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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Imagine if Meng Shi begged and bargained and collected favors till she was able to send her A-Yao to education with the Lan Sect, perhaps even become a cultivator with them. Would he take that change? Would he become a rogue cultivator? Would the strict rules help curb his inner muderimpuls or enrage him or teach him to hide better?

A Good Fit - ao3

“The…Lan sect?” Meng Yao said doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure,” his mother said, her mouth tight. She looked upset, the way she always did these days when he referenced, intentionally or otherwise, the original plan that she had had to send him to join his father, sect leader of Lanling Jin. She’d raised Meng Yao on a steady diet of stories of what his life would be like when his father finally took him back the way he’d promised her he would, stories that had filled his days and nights for years and years and years, and then just last year she’d suddenly stopped talking about it entirely. It was as if the person who’d told those stories had nothing to do with her.

Meng Yao didn’t know what had happened, but he assumed it must have been pretty bad.

“It'll be a good fit,” she added.

“Then I’ll go to the Lan sect,” he said, and pretended not see the way his mother relaxed a little, relieved that he wasn’t asking too many questions. “I’ve heard they are gentlemen there, righteous but gentle; it will be the best match for my personality, I’m sure.”

A lie, of course. ‘Gentlemen’ were just as likely to come to the brothel as brutes, and they were all the same once they had a cup of wine and a beauty in their arms – Meng Yao tried not to have any illusions.

“Can we afford it?” he asked instead, since that was something he was sure his mother would have thought of, would have expected him to ask. “Gusu is so far away…”

“I have obtained a letter from the local sect recommending you to their sect leader, Lan Qiren,” she said. “He’s the one that teaches the classes – the one that sent out the summons asking the subsidiary sects to look for individuals with raw talent to join his classes and offering them an extra seat for their sects for each nameless orphan they find that lives up to Lan sect standards. Only the Heavens know why he’s doing something like that…I assume they’re trying to expand.”

That seemed like the most reasonable explanation. Meng Yao nodded. “So I’ll be traveling with the local sect?”

“That’s right,” his mother said, and raised her chin a little. “At least this much, your mother was able to do for you.”

She’d begged and bargained and traded favors for it, then, Meng Yao thought, and yet taking him along was to their own benefit: if they were looking for inherited cultivation talent sufficient for the Lan sect, then the bastard son of another Great Sect leader would be a better bet than some random nobody. She’d probably humiliated herself for nothing.

“Will you come with me?” he asked, more concerned with that – it was too easy for women of ill repute to disappear into the depths of the city if they didn’t have someone to watch out for them.

Even someone as young as he was. He wished he was older.

“You can come back to visit me during the Spring Festival,” she said, which meant no. “I’ll be all right, A-Yao.”

Meng Yao wasn’t so sure.

Still, not having him around would at least remove a visible reminder of his mother’s age – she’d been kicked out of the better brothels because of him, because no one wanted a woman who was a mother. Leaving would at least do that for her.

“I’ll write,” he finally said. “I’ll write as often as they let me.”

“And I’ll write back,” she promised him, kissing his cheek. “I promise.”

With that, Meng Yao supposed he had to be satisfied.

The Lan sect was both exactly like what Meng Yao expected and absolutely nothing at all like anything he could have dreamt.

For the first, his cynicism was almost immediately confirmed: the boys raised there were snobby as anything, looking down at the rest of them as little better than barbarians, and many of the adults were the same way. It was clear that this whole business of recruiting talented nobodies was a project of the sect leader’s – the interim sect leader, no less, not even the real thing – and nobody else’s; they were only just barely going along with it. Adding to that the fact that there were dozens if not hundreds of rules, and Meng Yao could glumly foresee a future of having his lack of knowledge held over his head as a fault, even with his marvelous memory to act as his backing.

For the second…

Well, there was Lan Xichen, who was – as unbelievable as it seemed – to actually embody all those things that people said about gentlemen, all kindness and gentleness and fierce upright pride, except only for real. There was Lan Wangji, who was basically perfect in every way and kinder than he gave the impression he was, willing to help tutor anyone who asked if only they dared disturb his solitude long enough to do so. There was the boy Meng Yao shared a room with, Su She, who’d punched the boy from the Yunping cultivator clan in the mouth for calling Meng Yao a son of a whore and pretended it was because they weren’t allowed to talk about that sort of thing, when actually it’d been because he hadn’t wanted rumors to get around that might make Meng Yao’s life harder in the future.

There was Lan Qiren, who was strict and a little boring but fair, painfully fair, handing out punishments with an equitable hand no matter that it meant that he was punishing the locals as often if not more often. It’d been his idea to bring people like Meng Yao into the Lan sect, and defending the idea was the only time he truly seemed moved to passion. Now that they’d passed the initial examination and been judged to match Lan sect standards, Lan Qiren announced, as far as he was concerned, they were Lan sect just as if they were born there, as if they’d been children of his own.

And he even seemed to really believe it, too.

Today, Meng Yao’s head was still warm from when the stern Teacher Lan had put his hand there, gentle and approving, and his ears still burning from the murmured “Well done, Meng Yao, as expected.”

“I think I would kill someone for him,” Meng Yao said dreamily to Su She, who snorted.

“You’ve got such father issues,” he said disdainfully, as if he didn’t have entire family issues. That was just Su She’s way, though – he bitched and moaned and complained without end, and he’d probably kill someone for Meng Yao if Meng Yao so much as hinted it was something he’d want. They’d made friends for a reason. “You know the bit about the poor kids being his own children is a lie, right?”

“I know which sect’s leader is my father, thanks,” Meng Yao said, rolling his eyes. “I’m well aware it’s not Teacher Lan. Like he’d ever have kids of his own, anyway.”

“That’d require noticing when someone’s flirting with him,” Su She agreed, all solemn for just a moment, and then he dissolved into sniggering giggles. Meng Yao couldn’t blame him: it was, in fact, extremely funny when women (and sometimes men) tried to flirt with Teacher Lan, mostly because of the way that he very genuinely and completely missed that that was what was happening each and every time.

“Laugh all you like,” Meng Yao said peaceably. “You’d kill for him, too.”

“Probably,” Su She agreed. “But only because of you.”

That was fair enough. After getting the lay of the land, Meng Yao had arranged for them to ‘accidentally’ be overheard by Teacher Lan while talking about the misconduct of one of the teachers who was the most biased against guest disciples, one of the ones that had been harassing Su She in particular for over a year before Meng Yao had arrived, and despite Su She’s initial nervousness about the plan, it had all gone splendidly. Sure, they’d been punished to do five copies of a treatise on upright conduct because they’d breached Talking behind the backs of others is prohibited, but the teacher in question had been sentenced to two hundred strikes with the discipline rod for abusing his position and three months of enforced seclusion to contemplate his misbehavior, and then, Teacher Lan had said, his expression dark and threatening, they could discuss what role would be the best fit in the future.

The other teachers had taken notice and shaped up very quickly, after that.

Comparatively, those five copies made in the nice cool Library Pavilion instead of having to do chores on the hottest days of summer? Practically a pat on the back for bringing it to his attention.

Su She would never have dared to raise anything if it was just him, Meng Yao thought; he had a strange fear of authority figures that combined envy and misery in an explosive combination – he would have just suffered and suffered and suffered until he’d been pushed too far and then it would have all burst out at once. He wasn’t like Meng Yao, who was unwilling to keep to his “proper” place and was more than willing to use his greater-than-average share of brains to get what he wanted, no matter what rules he broke in the process. He was the sort of person who was willing to do whatever it took to obtain his desires – no matter what it took.

Well, maybe not no matter what. He wouldn’t want to disappoint Lan Qiren too much.

(Okay, so maybe Su She was right and he had some unresolved father issues. So what if he did? Whose business was it but his?)

It’d taken Meng Yao a while to fully adjust to the Cloud Recesses.

Some parts he’d figured out right away – the way they all flattered themselves as gentlemen even if they were actually little more than hypocrites (Teacher Lan and his personally taught nephews exempted, of course), which of course meant that Meng Yao’s ability to act pitiful at the drop of a hat and cleverly turn black into white made him a teacher’s pet at once. The vegetarian meals were easy enough to adapt to, given that his mother hadn’t had the money for meat all that often, and the training and cultivation and all that wasn’t any challenge for his excellent powers of retention – he had ambitions of becoming one of Teacher Lan’s aides one day, and worked assiduously towards that goal. Even waking and sleeping early, which was practically the opposite of his schedule at home, was something he could adjust to, given time and incentive.

It was his mentality that took some time to adjust.

Meng Yao had perhaps grown up with too many of his mother’s stories, painting an image of a matchless paradise – at the start, he looked at everything around him, serene and elegant but not quite as rich and shining and thought that it would do, for now. When he’d first arrived, he had had every intention of making a good reputation for himself and using that reputation to get his real father’s attention – he’d liked Teacher Lan from the beginning, despite his best attempts to not let his heart be swayed, but he’d reasoned that if a teacher was like this, then a blood-related father would be even better.

And so, for the first half-year, he’d treated his time at the Cloud Recesses…not lightly, no. He was extremely serious about making sure to get the maximum benefit he could. And yet, at the same time, he still was not really committing himself to the place.

This wasn’t where he was going to live his whole life, he reasoned; it was just a stepping stone to a better future. That meant he would exert himself to point out things that made him look good, to eliminate obstacles in his path, to win himself allies, but not bother with those longer-term problems, the ones that really ought to be fixed but which would take a great deal of effort with little reward other than annoying people.

His feeling of superiority and emotional distance lasted right up until the first discussion conference.

From a distance, Jin Guangshan was everything Meng Yao could have imagined – perhaps a little too similar to the clients that his mother often saw, a little dissolute to pull off the air of a refined scholar he affected, but wearing more gold than Meng Yao had ever seen in his life, with a retinue of servants that dwarfed the other sect’s. Each of those servants were dressed more finely than even main clan cultivators in some of the smaller sects, and though Meng Yao’s Lan sect guest disciple clothing was of such quality that he didn’t need to fear their disdain, he couldn’t help but be secretly impressed.

He'd exerted himself more than usual to trade away all of his chores and duties, freeing himself up to take on patrol duty near the Jin sect. He’d perhaps daydreamed about some sort of encounter – nothing active on his part, of course, but he couldn’t quite resist playing through some fantasy of catching someone’s eye by chance, getting called over, a “You have a familiar set to your chin, who’s your father?”, a shy halting admission, recognition, a joyous reunion…

Instead, his father spent the entire night getting drunk and cursing the Lan sect’s hospitality for not providing him with girls to go with his liquor, calling Lan Qiren a miserable prude with a stick up his ass right in front of the Lan sect disciples that clenched their fists in barely concealed rage. He’d seen Meng Yao all right, ordered him to come forward, but it’d only been to mock him in front of all of his servants – and not even for being his bastard son, no, that would involve bothering to pick him out from the crowd or to ask who he was. No, he’d mocked him simply for being one of the poor disciples that Lan Qiren had taken in, all because his accent was marked with the distinct tones of Yunping rather than the sweetness of Gusu.

“Tell me, boy,” he said, breathing fumes into Meng Yao’s face and making him feel suddenly as if he’d never left the brothel – that the Cloud Recesses had all been a vague dream, and now he’d woken up and lost it all. “How does that old fart Qiren expect you to pay him back for all he’s done for you? I heard the Lan sect includes a pretty face as one of its standard requirements…”

Meng Yao put his gaze above his father’s head and pretended to be deaf.

“It seems like rather a lot of effort,” one of his father’s attendants remarked. “Even if Second Master Lan wanted a boy to warm his bed, couldn’t he just buy one like any normal person?”

“Bah, boys,” his father said, and leaned back, waving his hands in dismissal. “Why would anyone bother with a boy when you could have a soft woman instead? Just as long as they’re stupid enough – you know, there’s nothing worse than a woman who’s talented and knows it, too smart, always trying to get above their station…”

“You’re thinking about that whore in Yunping again, aren’t you? The one that interrupted your dinner and made a scene, claiming you’d promised to take in the son she bore you?” the attendant said, laughing. “I told you, you should’ve just killed her for her impudence rather than just having her beaten and thrown out. That way the matter wouldn’t still be bothering you…”

“Go away, boy,” another servant said to Meng Yao, who was frozen stiff in belated terror, nausea churning in his stomach as he realized his mother could’ve gone out one day and never come back, and he would never have known why – or maybe it was that he’d been spending his considerable time and brain on pleasing someone who would have done that, who nearly had done that. “Your accent’s brought back bad memories, don’t you see?”

Meng Yao left.

No, to be more blunt: he fled. He ran away, hot tears filling his eyes until he couldn’t see – belly full of regret and disappointment, crushed dreams feeling like broken shards of glass in his mouth and throat.

He tried to tell himself that it was better to find out now, when they were still distant, before he'd sold his soul for the futile chance to get that horrible man's affection, but he couldn't quite throw off the shame of knowing that if he hadn't heard such a thing up front, he probably would have done that. Would have humiliated himself like that, and for what? A man who regretted not murdering his mother?

He ran right into Lan Wangji, who was also on patrol.

Lan Wangji took one look at him and grabbed his wrist, dragging him away from the main pathway and all the way to his uncle’s rooms.

Lan Qiren was still awake despite the late hour, writing something at his desk, but he set aside his brush at once. “What’s going on?” he asked, frowning. “Wangji – Meng Yao – one of you report.”

“Meng Yao was on patrol by the Jin sect,” Lan Wangji explained as Meng Yao furiously tried to dash away his tears using his sleeve.

“Who permitted that? First year disciples aren’t permitted to patrol during discussion conferences,” Lan Qiren asked, his frown deepening. “It wouldn’t be proper – ah, but no, I recall now. I suppose it was inevitable. Wangji, well done, and thank you. You are dismissed.”

After Lan Wangji left, he turned his eyes on Meng Yao.

“You volunteered, didn’t you?” he asked.

Meng Yao felt his back go cold: Lan Qiren knew, then. It had never been said out loud by anyone as far as he knew, and yet it was clear that Lan Qiren knew who his father was – and probably his mother, too.

He knew that Meng Yao was – that he wasn’t anything more than –

“You are one of my most promising disciples, Meng Yao,” Lan Qiren told him, and poured him a cup of tea from his own pot, pressing it into his hands. It was finer tea than Meng Yao had ever had in his life, full of smoke and flavor. “The rules say Be loyal and filial, but they also praise reciprocity. You have not been recognized, and have not received your forefathers’ grace. You can fulfill your obligations to chivalry through your respect for the parent that raised you.”

Meng Yao stared down at the teacup. Lan Qiren had completely misunderstood the nature of Meng Yao’s concern – he was disappointed in what his father was, not worried about not living up to his obligations of being a filial child. And yet it was a little nice to hear that as far as Lan Qiren was concerned, the rules said that he could tell his father go hang for all he cared…

And that he ought to honor his mother, which was something no one who knew her had ever said to him.

“Even if she –” His voice stuttered. “Even if she’s a…”

He couldn’t say the word.

“Appreciate the good people is not qualified by class or profession,” Lan Qiren said, and his monotone voice was blissfully without emotion, as if this were just another lesson in class, and not the deepest hurt of Meng Yao’s life. “I have never met your mother, Meng Yao, but you are a good child – diligent, organized, sincere, with good judgment, and you clearly adore her. That tells me everything I need to know.”

Meng Yao burst into tears.

Meng Yao liked Lan Xichen a lot, but he also had to admit that sometimes, the older boy was, well…

“Dumb as a pile of rocks,” Su She announced.

“Do not criticize other people,” Meng Yao said piously, but then chuckled, shaking his head. “Say, rather, that he’s naïve and sheltered, and overly inclined to believe the best in people.”

“Like I said: dumb as rocks. How many times is going to get himself swindled into being someone’s sword or shield before he figures out that the problem is him?”

“Some people don’t have the capacity to understand the depths of humanity’s foulness –”

“Yeah, dumb ones.”

“Su She, please.” Su She held up his hands in surrendered. “At any rate, if Lan-gongzi is going to keep falling for people’s tricks, it’s beholden on us to help protect him.”

“You just don’t want Teacher Lan to be sad about something serious happening to his nephew,” Su She said knowingly, but he was already nodding. “All right, what are we going to do about it? He outranks us. We can’t exactly tell him to his face that he’s being…”

He paused.

Dumb as rocks went unsaid, but then, it didn’t need to be said out loud for the meaning to be clear.

Meng Yao sighed.

“You can only trick someone so many times,” he said. “If we want to keep him from getting tricked by other people, then we have to trick him first. And better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lan-gongzi likes to save people,” Meng Yao explained. “He really sees himself as a chivalrous gentleman – he puts chivalry first, even though Teacher Lan says Learning comes first. That’s why he always sides with whoever he perceives to be the underdog in a given situation, no matter how wrong that impression is. That’s how most of the people who’ve been tricking him have gone for it: playing the victim, appealing to his sense of righteousness, pulling the curtains over his eyes to obscure what’s actually happening.”

“Okay. So?”

“So, we’ve both got miserable backstories – you being taken from your family at a young age and then bullied, me with my mother and, even worse, father. If we get him on our side, early on, he’ll side with us over anyone else – that way we can keep him from getting roped into other people’s private grudges.”

Su She frowned. “That seems a little manipulative.”

“It’s for his own good, and that’s what’s important,” Meng Yao said, and smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lan-er-gongzi?”

Su She jumped, turning around just in time to see Lan Wangji, who had been standing in the shadow of a nearby tree, step out.

He had a serious expression, as always, but a thoughtful one.

Meng Yao waited patiently.

“You cannot take advantage,” Lan Wangji finally said, and Meng Yao knew he’d won the most important ally in the battle to save Lan Xichen from himself. “That would change it from a virtuous act to a selfish one.”

“Like we need anything from him,” Su She said haughtily. “Maintain your own discipline.”

“Arrogance is forbidden.”

“It’s not arrogance if it’s justified! It’s just self-confidence!”

“Do not argue with family,” Meng Yao quoted, and was pleased to see both of them drop it at once. “Listen, we all share the same goal, and we have to start somewhere, don’t we? We’re stronger together than apart. Together, we can do anything, even protect Lan-gongzi.”

That and more, he thought as the other boys nodded, following his lead. Lan Xichen is just the start.

“The Wen sect will make trouble sooner rather than later,” Meng Yao said thoughtfully, one day. His friends turned to look at him. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Lan Wangji nodded, serious as always, but Su She scoffed.

“You can’t even convince that Wei Wuxian boy to leave poor Lan-er-gongzi alone,” he said snidely. “How exactly are you expecting to bring down the Wen sect?”

“I don’t convince Wei Wuxian to leave Lan-er-gongzi alone because Lan-er-gongzi doesn’t want to be left alone,” Meng Yao said. “Obviously. Isn’t that right?”

“You should call me by name,” Lan Wangji said, which wasn’t answering the question and definitely wasn’t denying anything. “You were saying, about the Wen sect?”

Meng Yao smiled.

“What brings one of Teacher Lan’s most promising disciples to the Unclean Realm?” Nie Mingjue said, peering at him thoughtfully. “You’re at the wrong time to be one of the usual messengers.”

Meng Yao smiled at him.

“I think you’ll find that we have similar goals, Sect Leader Nie,” he said. “When it comes to making sure that certain people in our lives don’t get hurt by the bad decisions of others, I mean. In your case, it’s your younger brother, who’s a friend of mine –”

Friend, source of information, it was all about the same thing in the end. Meng Yao didn’t have real friends outside the Lan sect, but he’d been very careful to cultivate good relationships with all his most important peers.

“- and for me, well. A teacher for day, a father for a lifetime. I’m sure Sect Leader Nie can understand the importance of protecting one’s father – right?”

“You don’t need to use any sophistry on me,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes. “If you have an idea on what we can do to stop the Wen sect before they go and burn someone’s house down, I’m all ears.”

By chance, Meng Yao did.

It was a good plan, too, daring and brave in equal measure. If it worked the way he hoped it would, he’d win enough fame to get Jin Guangshan to beg for him to join the Jin sect – not that he would, of course.

Meng Yao knew what he wanted, and he knew how he was going to get it, too.

“This is a lovely house, A-Yao,” Meng Shi said, running her hand along one of the soft tapestries on the wall. “Truly lovely. Whoever you rented it from has good taste.”

Meng Yao bowed. “Thank you for the compliment, Mother. I put a lot of thought into it.”

“You own it?” she asked, surprised. “But don’t you live up the mountain, with the sect?”

“I do. This is for you.”

“For – me? A-Yao! This is too much – how much must it have cost–”

“I saved the Lan sect’s core texts from being destroyed,” Meng Yao said. “I’m an inner sect disciple now – I could ask for a dozen houses like this, and they’d grant them to me without blinking twice. Teacher Lan would insist on it.”

“Teacher Lan,” his mother murmured. “That’s the one you’ve taken to treating as your own father, isn’t it? You’ve spoken so much of him, in your letters…”

“There’s no need to scheme,” he told her. “He wouldn’t notice your flirtations, anyway.”

His mother arched her eyebrows at him.

“He’s really oblivious.”

“Still…”

“Really no need,” Meng Yao said, and couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Lan Qiren pulling him into a hug when he realized that the books – and Lan Xichen – were all safe from the Wen sect’s attempt to burn down the Cloud Recesses, and, later, again, that Wen Ruohan was dead. He may have deliberately schemed for that second hug, and he might or might not have plans for more. “He already takes me as a son.”

His mother relaxed.

“Good,” she said, and smiled herself. “So, A-Yao, was I right, all those years ago? Was the Lan sect a good fit for you?”

“Yes, Mother,” Meng Yao said. “Yes, it was.”

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #lan qiren #su she #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #a good fit

338 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 3 years

Text

“i’m here”

NSFW (minors dni)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

word count: ~2.2k

keigo comes home and you’ve both got old wounds on the surface

warnings: sex-based breakdown/panic, depictions of ptsd, safe-wording, trauma (😎), vague descriptions of dissociation

a/n: hey folks, mind the tags! this is some vulnerable, self-indulgent hurt/comfort. i’m a bit shy posting this one BUT all the same enjoy <3

Keigo cared.

You could tell, so easily. It radiated around him when you were together, this aura that he never carried publicly. It was saved for you, a different type of adoration and tenderness that solely belonged between the two of your souls.

It was never acknowledged, but felt, and that quiet recognition was enough.

There were things you couldn’t tell him, not yet and fuck, maybe you never would. Everyone has their demons, and you knew Keigo had plenty of secrets he kept to him.

(How many times did you help him pluck and preen feathers still wet with blood? He assured you it was never his, but that didn’t ease the knot in your gut.)

It was just boundaries, maybe. Maybe. The things you couldn’t, wouldn’t tell each other. Little lines drawn to keep the two of you safe from your pains. Better to lock them up than share them, right?

Except, things are never that simple and ills hate staying hidden for too long.

...

He’d been gone for a while. A mission far off and secret.

By proxy, Keigo had come home haggard and hungry.

For you.

He entered your home and without pause, he was on you.

He tossed you into bed. His wings flared out wide and ruffled. It made him look bigger than he was, and the light in his eyes had a starved gleam that sent your heart racing.

You tried to ignore his new, plentiful bruises and bumps. The colors bloomed over his skin, even in the near dark of the bedroom.

What does he do when he’s away?

It was better to not ask questions.

He ravaged you, naturally. How could he not? He’d been gone for weeks, sending you the nastiest, most yearning texts. Nothing too long, but little notes that communicated how much he missed you, how much he fucking needed you.

And he was certainly showing you.

His lips were over yours, nipping and sucking and devouring you in every sense of the word. Hands tugged and ripped your clothes off, his nails long and unmanicured with his mission. They weren’t quite pointed, but they were still too sharp to be scratching down your ribs.

It was all a bit too much, a bit too fast, but you tried to catch up the best you could.

“Keigo—” You sputtered as he bit his way down to your breasts, tugging on a nipple with his teeth.

“Hush,” His voice sounded far too low and it made your stomach flip (in the worst way oh my god). “I’ll take care of you. Doesn’t that sound nice, dove?”

The pet name should’ve soothed you.

(‘Should’ve’.)

Your inside did flips as he trailed lower.

Your mind was going lower too.

Mentally, you scrambled, clawing for a ledge to ground yourself on. Sensation whirled, pleasure and fear mixing into some fucked up cocktail in the front of your psyche.

Why are you so scared?

Your heart pounded, nearly ached in your chest as Keigo played with your clit over your panties.

It should’ve felt good.

His tousled hair was so fucking pretty. Keigo was gorgeous in every way, the wings were just a part of his visage. You were so lucky, so privileged to have him looking at your cunt so hungrily.

You’re so scared.

Why are you scared?

(You knew why, you just didn’t want to remember any more than you needed to. But that wasn’t really in your control, was it?)

You felt like you were falling as Keigo cleanly licks your cunt through your panties, soaking the cotton with his drool.

No, no, no.

Tears pricked your eyes as he pulled aside your panties, just enough to get a look, going in for a taste—

NO, NO, NO—

“N-no. Stop.” You gasped the words, cringing at how they broke in your throat. “Keigo, s-stop.”

Keigo froze immediatly, gaze flickering up to your face before his expression fell hard and fast.

No, no, no, you made him upset.

Dumbass.

He shot up, wings folding tight to his back. You scrambled up on the bed, arms wrapping around your shoulders. They shook in your grasp, you shook in your own hold as you tried to comfort yourself. Your breath was coming too fast and hard, but that was another issue entirely. You tucked into yourself tighter and let your vision go blurry in the ripples of the sheets.

Keigo sat in front of you, eyes wide and lips parted in terror and unsure words.

“I’m so s-sorry,” His hands folded in his lap. So tense they looked painful.

You shook your head, laughing, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You just couldn’t do this right now.

“Can I help?”

You didn’t reply for a moment, trying to reign in your racing mind.

Truly, Keigo didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe moved a bit too fast, but nothing out of the ordinary. You’d done this song and dance so many times, you loved it. Most of the time.

Sometimes, someone with your secrets had bad days that made you scared of the people that love you the most.

A thick sludge burrowed in the back of your throat as you shook your head.

Thinking felt too hard.

“Not yet,” you choked out rubbing at your cheeks. The tears smeared over your cheeks, turning them hot and angry as the rabbit’s heart buried in your chest. .

Keigo hovered, unsure.

It wasn’t like him not to know what to do. He was intuitive and saw through people easily, even if he didn’t say it. And he knew you particularly well. Very well. Little details about you and your being were tucked away in his mind, always brought out in key moments.

“Dovey?” He asked softly, like trying not to startle a terrified animal (isn’t that what you were?) “Do you want me to go?”

“N-no,” The words burst from your lips as your chest squeezed so tight, you could’ve checked. “No, no, no, please don’t go.”

You gagged on air and slammed back into the headboard.

Sure, the odd mix of emotions and very unwelcome memories was rawing your mind and body from the inside out. Sure, Keigo knew nothing of what you were experiencing. This was private, all of this part of you held far away from him. This was your burden. You had therapy, and self-help books, and deep breathing.

But, none of that was working. Instead, you were staring down your lover, helpless.

Your eyes flickered to the nightstand.

“Water?”

Keigo was already sending off a flurry of feathers to freshen up the liquid in the glass.

Good start.

Keigo’s hands twitched, wings restless as he regarded you. His breaths were even and solid, counted and practiced to keep himself calm in the face of your panic.

A chilled glass was delivered to you by a bundle of feathers. You snatched it, holding it to your cheeks before taking a few fat gulps.

Slow down.

You’re going too fast.

“Little sips,” Keigo reminded you, voice soft.

You pulled back, looking at him in your hazy vision, “Little sips?”

You tried again, taking a smaller sip, swishing the water in your mouth before swallowing.

“Was that good?” You looked at him, inching closer to him

He nodded, golden and glowing, “Very good.”

The praise was a little bit of salve for a much larger wound, but it felt wonderful nonetheless.

Keigo wasn’t the issue.

He wasn’t, truly. You knew that, despite all the swirling fear.

The only issue with Keigo was that he suddenly felt too far away.

You gave him a desperate little look, hands itching across the covers.

He noticed because of course he fucking did.

(Thank fucking god.)

“I’m here.”

It was a reminder, a needed one.

Keigo, your kind, sweet partner was not the memories swirling his mind. He didn’t hurt you, he didn’t harm you.

“... Yeah?” You sniffled.

“I am.” His face was soft, softer than you’d ever seen. The pre-mature wrinkles looked too deep in the moonlight. His eyes looked too old, too worn, as he silently acknowledged those goddamn demons without a word. A little, rumbling coo broke from the back of his throat and felt yourself relax with the sound.

And, fuck, bless him—

Keigo gave you a soft smile that felt like warm honey in spiced tea that seeps into the cracks between your ribs.

“Hold me?” You finally asked, words shaking but not hesitant.

He nodded, and before you could comprehend, he was tugging you down into the sheets, pulling you to his chest and squeezing. It wasn’t rough treatment, but it was firm, grounding at the very fucking least. His arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you to his chest and holding you there. Your cheek squished against the chill of the cooling sweat over his sternum, a shaking breath finally coming slow enough to give you a bit of ease.

“Is this okay?” Keigo asked, one of his wings adjusted to barely ghost over your bodies.

You pressed closer, greedy and scared, “More. Tighter. Please.”

Keigo wasn’t one to deny you.

His grip got firmer, fingers stroking up and down your spine in time with his own slow breathing. The wing over you relaxed, bearing down just enough to be comfortable. It was maybe a little too much. You dealt with it, let the weight of Keigo be next to you and over you because he was good. You were good or going to be. You clung to the thought.

“You’re safe, I promise.”

You clung to that thought too. Keigo was good and safe. You believed him if only a little bit.

You hoped Keigo knew that this wasn’t about him. That the poisonous memories and awful thoughts weren’t about him, rather than he’d caught their thin, nearly invisible tripwire.

You’re safe, why are you panicking?

Because sometimes this just happens.

You pressed your nose between his pecs, tucking a hand between the roots of his wings. It made him startle; the area was sensitive. He quickly relaxed and went back to petting your back and taking deep breaths.

The two of you laid for a long time, surrounded by each other's breathing and grounding in the heat of the sheets and the white noise of the world. You remained in some sort of a daze for most of it, the memories fading, but just leaving you numb and out of it.

“More water?” Keigo asked, tentatively kissing your clammy forehead.

You nodded, sitting up slowly and rubbing a hand over your cheeks. The air felt less suffocating, your mind calmer, but you still felt like shit—

“Drink,” Keigo brought the glass to your lips with a combination of his hands and feathers.

You gulped down half of the freshened water, letting a bit dribble past the corner of your lips. The leftovers were swept away by your thumb and rubbed in your hot cheeks. The cold was a grounding, and the world was finally stilling as you needed it to.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” You met Keigo’s gaze from where he sat across from you. He sat upright and on his knees, hands and wings folded to his center. The posture made him look smaller as he watched you. His bright eyes took you in as well as they could, but you could sense he was still a little on edge.

Your words made his brows shoot up.

“I should be telling you that, not the other way around,” Keigo bit his lip and frowned.

You snatched his hands in yours, “We both need it. I need you to know I’m not upset.”

“You... should be. At least a little.”

You gave a little shake of your head, thick in your resolve.

Keigo stayed silent before taking a deep breath, wings readjusting with thought, “I suppose you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I... I don’t,” Maybe sometime, but not now. “But, I still need you to know you didn’t do anything wrong. It just moved too fast for me and I got...”

You lost your words and your vision went hazy at the bedsheets once more.

“Overwhelmed?” He finished your sentence with a squeeze of your hands.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s the word,” You shook your head. “I’m still not feeling great.”

“That’s okay, “ Keigo assured you with another squeeze. “Can I help at all?”

You shook your head once more.

Not right now, not more than you’ve already done.

“Just be here, if that’s okay? Like you have been.” You fully intertwined your fingers, noticing the remnants of something dark under his fingernails. More than likely dirt, but it was still a reminder. “It’s just nice to have you close.”

Everyone has their demons.

“Can I still kiss you?” Keigo asked as you dragged him under the covers.

You mussed on it, wondering if it would bring back the thick fog and panic.

“Only a little,” You told him, once again burying yourself in him. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

It was more than enough for the two of you.

Keigo tilted your jaw up with his palm, giving you the gentlest kiss he could. His touch remained firm everywhere else, but he was tentative in giving you the space you needed.

He pulled away and you tuck yourself under his chin.

“Thank you.”

Keigo’s wing stretched over you, blocking out whatever thoughts and ills clawed toward you. In a wordless squeeze, he said all that needed to.

‘Of course.’

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #tw ptsd #tw trauma #if y'all read and think there should be other warnings added #please shoot me an ask or a message #i wasn't sure i was gonna post this one but #here we are #enjoy lovies <3

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albertasunrise · 3 years

Text

Just Another Conquest - Part 2

Masterlist

Warnings: You were sweet, innocent and completely infatuated with Javier Peña. After an incident at the Christmas party, you become the talk of the secretary's at the embassy and everything starts falling around you.

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of abortions, Mentions of Miscarriage.

Notes: Still a few touchy subjects in this chapter.

Part 1

You lay there waiting for the procedure to start, heart in your throat as you desperately tried to avoid his gaze. You weren’t sure why Javier wanted to be there for it, why he’d refused to leave your side since he’d found out you were in the hospital. You guessed he felt guilty, after all, he was the one that had gotten you into this mess so you had tolerated him. Had been civil. He had saved you from possible jail time, after all, flashing his badge and convincing the doctors not to report what you’d tried to do to your unborn child.

‘Right you ready?” The doctor asked in Spanish and you nodded, mixed feelings engulfing you at what was about to happen.

You nodded and she placed the probe on your exposed stomach, so you shut your eyes and waited, praying for it to be over. Javier watched you, his heart twisting as he watched the conflict you were suffering saturate your features. You had said you wanted this baby. That you were going to raise it alone and that he had an out. So why did it look like you didn’t?

Then he heard it and all thoughts disappeared like a puff of smoke.

The rhythmic thump of his child’s heartbeat filled the air and his own heart seemed to expand in his chest. He turned to look at the screen, the doctor pointing out the baby he’d helped create and he sobbed. He cried openly and you opened your eyes to see him staring at that small shape, hand over his mouth as he let his emotions flow freely. So you allowed yourself to look.

It was instant.

The feeling of love you had for this tiny being that you were growing inside of you. This tiny life that the doctor informed you were currently around the size of an olive. She then left the imaging on screen as she started to clean the jelly from your stomach and as soon as she was done, Javier placed a soft kiss there.

“Hello, little one.” He whispered and you swooned “I’m your Papi and I look forward to meeting you.” He finished before he looked up at you “If you’ll let me?”

You were at a loss for words. You’d not expected him to be so welcoming of this baby and a pang of guilt struck you. What if you had succeeded? You would have taken this away from him. You’d never stopped to consider that he might actually want this. Want to be a father.

You’d been too scared to consider it.

You were discharged later that day and Javier took you home, helped you get comfortable before putting away the medications and vitamins you’d been given. You weren’t sure when you dozed off but you’d been surprised to find that he was still there when you woke up later that day, carrying a tray of food with him as he set himself down on the bed beside you.

“Made you some soup.” He said softly as he placed the spoon in the bowl and handed it to you “Wasn’t sure whether you’d be up for anything bigger.”

“Why are you doing this Javier?” You asked, your brows furrowed as you gave him a questioning look.

“Doctor said you were going to be weak for a few more days and that you’d probably need a little extra help.” He replied, placing the bowl down when you didn’t take it.

“I know all of that I was there.” You grumbled, “I mean why are you helping me?”

“Because I care about you.”

“If you cared about me we wouldn’t be in this mess.” You spat and he flinched at the statement.

“You’re right I’m sorry.” He fumbled as he pushed the tray closer to you and stood “You don’t want me here... Fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Not you… I’m a fucking idiot. Thinking that you’d accept help from me.” He elaborated “Or that you’d be willing to let me be a part of this baby’s life. I have no right.” He finished as he shook his head and made his way towards the door “I’ll get Connie to come and help you. She's more qualified anyway.’ He threw over his shoulder as stepped through the doorway, only to be stopped when you called his name.

“You have every right to be a part of this baby’s life.” You started, expression softening a little “I just… I just don’t want you to feel like you are obligated to take care of me just because I’m carrying your child.”

“But that’s exactly what I am.” He turned to face you, tears pooling in those chocolate depths “It is my duty to care for the woman who’s to give me the greatest gift I’ve ever received. So I will do that however you’ll let me. Not because I need to.” He paused, locking eyes with yours “But because I want to.”

You nodded at him, giving him a weak smile before picking up the bowl of soup he left beside you and hummed in delight at the savoury flavours.

“Did you make this yourself?” You asked and he nodded shyly “This is really good. How did you learn to cook like this?”

“I nursed my mum through cancer.” He replied honestly and you looked up at him in shock “Kinda taught myself to cook so that I could take care of her and pops. He uh… Well, he didn’t cope well with her illness. Even worse when she passed.”

“Javier I-”

“I’m glad you like it Hermosa.” He interrupted with a smile, changing the subject “I’ll be just out here if you need anything.” He finished and you nodded, watching him leave whilst your heart ached for him.

3 months along…

“So the baby is around the size of a plumb now according to the baby book I got.” Exclaimed Javier excitedly and you smiled sweetly at him.

“You read a baby book?” Snorted Steve as he laughed at Javier’s statement, earning a smack on the arm from his wife.

“I think it’s sweet.” Announced Connie as she gave Javi’s arm a friendly squeeze.

“Have you told work yet?” Steve asked you, taking a swig of his beer.

“No.” You replied, shrugging as you spoke “We wanted to wait another month. Just to be sure everything’s… well you know.”

“Makes sense.” Connie replied as she placed a steaming mug of herbal tea in front of you “So there’s been no complications from…” She trailed off and you caught the hurt that flashed in Javier’s eyes.

“No.’ You replied simply, giving him a regretful look “We’re both very lucky.” You finished as you placed a hand on your slight bump.

“Still can’t believe you tried to get rid of it yourself.” Said Steve, not seeing the glares he then received from you and Connie.

Javier felt his stomach twist at the memory of it. Standing abruptly from his seat and making a b-line for the bathroom, Steve watched his partner leave with confusion etched into his features before finally turning his head to see the angry stares of you and his wife.

“You really do need to work on your mental filter Steve.” Connie growled as she turned to look at you “I’m sorry. You okay?”

“I am but Javi…”

“He’ll be okay,” Steve waved off but you shook your head.

“No… You don’t...” You paused a moment, remembering the conversation you and he had shared a few weeks back ‘It still hurts him to know I tried.”

…

2 weeks prior…

‘So I got this baby book.” Said Javier as he placed a large paper bag down on the table “And don’t be mad, but I got a few other things.”

“Javier I’m not even 3 months along.” You chuckled “There’s still a risk that-”

“That what?” Javier asked, his tone taking you by surprise.

“That I could lose it.” You said, voice cracking a little when you saw the expression that spread across his face “I just don’t want to jinx it.”

“You tried to get rid of it and it came through that. I’m sure-”

“Why are you still holding that over me?” You snapped “I made a mistake Javier. You need to move on.”

“Move on?” He growled, tears forming in his eyes “Move on from the fact you tried to kill our baby?”

“I was scared, Javier!” You yelled “I let you in, gave myself to you and you rejected me. Quite publicly I might add.” You paused as you tried to calm your breathing “I’m then forced to take two months off because I became the talk of the embassy and in that time I find out I’m pregnant. How was I supposed to feel about it all Javier?”

“You should have come and talked to me.” He said, tears streaming down his cheeks “I would have-”

“You would have what?” You pried “Welcomed me with open arms? Told me that we could be a happy family and that you’d made a mistake telling me I was nothing more than a stress relief exercise?”

“I never said that.”

“Oh no… we were just two friends comforting each other right.” You scoffed “Except I was in love with you...” You stopped yourself there, unable to believe that you’d just blurted that out. “I’m glad you want to be a part of this baby's life, Javier. It’s not exactly the sort of situation I’d ever expected to have a child but we have to play with the cards we’re dealt. So why don’t we just agree not to discuss the horrific thing I tried to do and just celebrate and enjoy this experience.” You paused as you took his hands in yours “I’m sorry I nearly took them from you. I know it hurts you and it pains me that I inflicted that on you but they’re here.” You placed his hand on your stomach “Growing inside me, safe and sound. We’re going to be okay.”

He'd simply nodded, unable to say anything else on the matter but he knew that he needed to try and move on as you said. It had all turned out for the best.

Right?

…

Steve sat there in shock, reeling from what you’d just told him. His partner hadn’t talked much about what had happened, it had been Connie in the end that had told him, after gaining your permission of course.

“I should go talk to him.” You said as you pushed yourself to your feet, only to be stopped by Steve.

“Let me.” He said as he stood from his seat “My fault he’s upset.” He finished as he made his way to where Javier had gone.

He found his partner staring down at a sleeping Olivia, shoulders shaking as he desperately tried to keep his internal struggle from slipping to the surface. He didn’t notice his partner step up behind him and tensed when the man's hand landed on his shoulder.

“What you doing in here partner?” He asked softly, glancing at his sleeping daughter before returning his attention to Javier.

“What if I’m no good?” He asked, taking Steve off guard.

“What do you mean brother?”

“What if I don’t make a good father?” He asked, letting out a shuddering breath “She tried to terminate the pregnancy because she didn’t think I’d want this.”

“Well, you did publicly humiliate her.”

“Fuck I know that Steve.” Javier growled as he fell back into the soft armchair beside Olivia’s cot “I made a mistake but something really wonderful has come out of that. I just… I dunno how this is going to work.”

“Do you love her?” He asked, perching on the changing table opposite his companion.

“No.” He replied, shaking his head “I mean she's attractive and we had a great time but no… I don’t love her. I’m not looking for anything more with her.”

“Well, I dunno how to advise you then man.” Steve sighed, scraping a hand over his mouth “All I can say is that you’re an idiot. She's an incredible woman and you’d be lucky to be with someone like her.”

“Trust me I know but… I don’t know I guess I just don’t know her well enough.”

“Well then make an effort to. See where that takes you and if you still don’t feel anything for her then fine but you owe it to her and your baby to at least try and see if there’s something there.” His partner finished as he got to his feet and placed a comforting hand over his shoulder “Just think about it Javi.”

…

“I should see what’s taking them so long.” You said, your nervousness getting the better of you “I’ll be right back.” You said over your shoulder to Connie before getting to your feet and making your way to where you knew Steve and Javier were, stopping when you heard their voices.

“Well, you did publicly humiliate her.”

“Fuck I know that Steve.” You let out a stuttered breath as you continued to listen “I made a mistake but something really wonderful has come out of that. I just… I dunno how this is going to work.”

“Do you love her?” Your breath caught in your throat as you awaited his answer.

“No.”

Your heart shattered.

“I mean she's attractive and we had a great time but no… I don’t love her. I’m not looking for anything more with her.”

You couldn’t listen a moment longer. You made your way back to the kitchen where Connie was finishing up with the dishes, grabbing your cardigan and purse.

“You off?” She asked, noting the change in your demeanour as you headed towards the front door.

“Yeah, I uh…” You paused, trying to keep yourself together but failing miserably “I’m tired. Say good night to Steve from me.” You choked before heading out the door, finally allowing yourself to fall apart the moment you were out of sight.

…

“She gone?” Asked Steve as he and Javier made their way back into the lounge.

“Yeah just a moment ago.” Connie stated as she looked at them both “She seemed pretty upset.” Her concern was evident in her features.

Javier’s stomach dropped. He said nothing, just sprinted out the door where he found you curled up on the ground as your tears fell freely. He was at your side in the blink of an eye, crouching down in front of you as he tried, desperately, to get you to look at him.

“Hermosa.” He pleaded and you finally look at him “What's wrong? Is it the baby?”

“Leave me alone Javier.” You growled, your sadness dissolving into anger.

“What is it?” He asked again and you scoffed at him.

“I think it would be best if we go our separate ways, Javier.” You said as you pushed him away and got to your feet “This isn’t going to work. I’m going to go and you can go back to screwing whoever takes your fancy. You aren’t cut out for this.” You finished as you cradled your small bump.

He recoiled at that, his own insecurities finally breaking free.

“I won’t stop you from seeing them. I’ll send you my address when I’m settled and if you want to come and see them then that's fine.”

“You’re leaving?”

“We both know I can’t stay here.” You growled.

“But the baby.” He sobs “I’ll miss everything.”

“You were going to miss that anyway.” You spat as you made your way over to the stairs “You’re a fool if you think you were actually going to see this through. We both know you can’t commit.”

With that, you left, stalking down the stairs and leaving a broken man in your wake. You were right. Of course, you were. He wasn’t cut out to be a father, he was deceiving himself and yet he'd wanted so desperately to try. Steve’s words floated around in his head. He should try to get to know you, to try and make a go of it but how could he when you wanted nothing to do with him. He wasn't against the idea of a relationship with one woman, he'd tried once before with Lorraine but that had crumbled to the ground.

Could things be different with you?

Sinking to the floor he allowed himself to weep. To mourn the loss of his child for he knew that you’d keep them from him, you were right to. The floor is where Connie found him a short time later and it was where she held him as he cried. When his tears dried up she pulled him inside, comforted him as he slowly turned into a shell of the man he once was and Steve knew this was his fault. He had to fix it. He just wasn’t sure how.

2 weeks later…

Steve had worked hard to try and bring the two of you together. You’d not mentioned leaving again but you’d also not spoken to his partner since that night. He had pleaded with you to try, told you how broken Javier had been since then but you struggled to believe the agent. You’d heard what Javier had said, he didn’t want to be with you and that he wasn’t sure how this was going to work. You knew what that meant. So you knew you had to take matters into your own hands.

You had to do right by your unborn child.

Steve continued to plead Javier’s case, however, telling you that the man was terrified to approach you for fear you would slam the door in his face you gave the blonde an opening. If Javier could come to you and make you believe that he was serious you would stay. If he couldn’t you would leave. Little did you know that the two DEA agents would be shipped off to Medellin for two weeks before he even got the chance.

Javier knocked on your door, flowers in hand and he nervously shifted from one foot to the other but when no answer came his brows furrowed in confusion and he knocked again. He'd had time in Medellin to think about things. To think about how he did want to try and make a go of things. Just because he wasn't in love with you now... Didn't mean that wouldn't come with time. He'd started to picture the family he could have with you and his heart had swelled at the idea. Knocking a third and final time he let out a frustrated sigh.

Still nothing.

Resigned to the fact you weren’t home, he sprinted upstairs and knocked on his partner's door, knowing his wife would be home with, hopefully, a little update on how you were. He’d read in the baby book that morning that now, at 14 weeks, the baby was around the size of a nectarine and that had excited him to no end. He had wondered if your bump had gotten any bigger and how you’d been coping with the morning sickness, something that had been a struggle when he’d last spoken to you.

“Javi.” Said Connie as she opened the door, Olivia in her arms “What are you doing here?” She asked as she bounced her fussy baby in her arms.

“Is she here?” He asked, saying your name when Connie gave him a bemused expression.

“You don’t know?” She questioned, her face crumpling at the realisation that he couldn't have.

“Know what?” He asked, his pulse racing as he watched Connie’s expression change to one he struggled to read “Connie where is she?”

“She left.”

Part 3

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #javier peña gif #javier peña fanfiction #narcos fanfiction x reader #narcos fanfiction x you #narcos x you #narcos x reader #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos gifs #narcos #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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queenmagnusao3 · 3 years

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AO3 Link (COMPLETE)

Lin had been in a bad mood all week.

Kya was leaving in a few days for the South Pole and she’d be gone for a whole month. She wasn’t upset with Kya, they had discussed the expectations of their relationship at length and Lin had said she was okay with the reality that Kya was going to have to be away for various periods of time.

But it didn’t mean she had to like it.

She was always in a foul mood right before Kya left… and while she was gone. She tried not to bring it to work with her but it was hard not to. She’d chew out some poor, unsuspecting subordinate before holing herself up in her office. She saw the knowing looks that passed between the select few who were a part of her inner circle.

It had been Mako who had made the connection between her bad moods and Kya’s trips away from the city. He had mentioned it to Saikhan who had grown a pair and said something to Lin directly. He had left her office pretty quickly, nobody speaking of it again.

But they knew. And she was honestly glad they knew.

Any friendly chatter in the bullpen died as she walked through the desks to her office, closing the door behind her without a word. She was halfway to her desk when her phone rang and she cursed loudly, crossing to the desk and yanking the phone up to her ear.

“What?!”

“Well that’s not a very friendly greeting.”

Lin relaxed a bit at the sound of Kya’s voice.

“I’m sorry. What is it?”

“I know how upset you are that I’m leaving for so long-“

“I’m not upset. I want you to go.”

Lin winced. That didn’t come out the way she meant it.

“Just let me finish Lin. Tenzin and Pema have some event tonight and they asked if I would keep an eye on the kids. And I was wondering if you would join me.”

“Kya, I”

“This will be one of our last nights together for a while. I know it’s not ideal but I just really want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

Oh, she was good. Most people had the wrong idea of Kya. She had somehow managed to give herself the image of being some wise and innocent master healer. But Lin knew better. Kya was much more complicated than that. And she had a rap sheet that put Su’s to shame. It wasn’t anything serious, mostly protests or defacing of property but Lin would wager most people didn’t know that about the master waterbender.

“That’s a low blow, Master Kya.”

“I know, but it’s true. And I know the kids would love to see you. Please, Lin.”

She didn’t know when she had gone so soft but before she could comprehend how it happened, she found herself agreeing to babysit Tenzin’s kids and was actively helping Kya put the four of them to bed.

Lin slipped out of Rohan and Meelo’s room as Kya quietly followed behind her, closing the door with a soft click.

“What-“

Kya silenced her by covering her mouth with a warm hand, bringing her index finger to her own mouth in a shushing motion. She walked past Lin towards the main living area, waving for her to follow. Once they were in the kitchen Kya spent just a moment listening.

“I think we’re safe.”

“What do you mean?”

“You always need to give it a few minutes of quiet before trusting the kids are actually asleep. If they hear anything that might indicate they’re missing out on something it’s all over and we’d have to start the nighttime routine all over again.”

Lin perched on the edge of one of the counters as Kya started clearing away dirty dishes. She watched as the waterbender made small movements with her hands, the water literally bending to her will as she made quick work of cleaning off the various bits of food stuck on them. Lin mused to herself that she wouldn’t mind cleaning so much if she could make the water do most of the work for her.

“I didn’t know you were so good with kids.”

Kya laughed and Lin felt her heartrate increase at how beautiful she looked when she smiled. She looked to Lin over a shoulder.

“Lin, I’m the oldest of three siblings. Spirits, I’m the oldest of all of you. Well, except Zumi. But she doesn’t count because she didn’t live in the city growing up. Listening to you all crying and whining all the time, being a full time, unpaid babysitter… best birth control there is. Well that and being a lesbian.”

A decent stack of clean dishes was piling up and Lin hopped down from the counter, grabbing a towel and getting to work drying them.

“You’re not so bad with kids yourself, you know.”

“Yes well, I practically raised Su when my mother wasn’t home. Which was pretty much all the time.”

Lin focused intently on the plate she was drying but she could feel Kya watching her. She was working on working through her childhood traumas but it was still a sore subject. And Lin really didn’t want to talk about it right now. She hoped Kya would pick up on that and steer the conversation away from Lin’s complicated upbringing. With a rare stroke of luck the phone rang, Kya flicking her hands quickly so the water returned to the sink before bolting for the phone.

“Hello. Yes, this is Kya. Right now? I’m kind of busy at the moment. Yes, I understand. No, it’s okay. Just give me a little time. Yes. Thank you.”

Kya hung up the receiver and turned slowly to Lin with a look Lin did not like at all.

“Kya…”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. One of my mother’s old students is very ill and asked for her personally. Obviously mom isn’t coming to the city right now so I’m the next best thing.”

“Kya, you can’t leave me alone with the kids.”

“They’re asleep. It’ll be fine.”

“And if they wake up?”

“Lin, I’m sorry but I have to go. If they wake up you’ll have to figure something out. Just think of what your mother used to do if you or Su got up after being put to bed.”

Lin snorted. Her and Su wouldn’t even make it to their bedroom door before Toph would bend a piece of earth in their path that would not so gently push them back towards the bed until they got the picture and accepted defeat. Once Lin had gotten a handle on earthbending it had become more of a game. For both her and Su. Trying to see who could get the closest to outsmarting their mother. The only time Lin had gotten the upper hand before the age of 12 was when Tenzin had helped her “float” above the floor with his airbending so Toph couldn’t sense her. It was one of the few times her mother had actually said she was proud of Lin, at least out loud.

Kya walked to Lin and took her hands, planting a gentle kissing on her cheek.

“I promise you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t guarantee.”

Kya rolled her eyes, moving to the door to slip on her shoes. Lin helped her with her bag and crossed her arms as Kya opened the door to leave.

“I’ll be back before the sun rises.”

“Be careful.”

“Always am, chief.”

She gave her a lazy salute and Lin rolled her eyes, watching her descend the stairs. Once she was out of visual sight Lin stomped her foot to the ground and used her seismic sense to follow Kya until she was completely out of range.

Lin let out a long sigh making to close the door. She froze as bright light flashed across the sky followed a few seconds later by a low rumble off in the distance. Her mouth got dry as she closed the door with a quiet click. Of course there would be a thunderstorm while she was on Air Temple Island alone.

She felt her chest tighten and tried to control her breathing, willing her thoughts to stop spiraling. But she couldn’t stop the memories that hit her. A darkening sky. The sound of rain as it pinged against her scorched armor. A masked face. A cold thumb pressed against her forehead…

Another loud boom of thunder sounded, close enough to make the house shudder and Lin jumped, closing her eyes tight. She felt something then. Light, barely there, footsteps running down the hall towards her.

Lin wiped her eyes quickly, just in time to relax her face as Rohan came running into the room. His heartbeat was pounding and his eyes wide with fear. At least she wasn’t the only one who didn’t care for the storm.

She softened her face into a smile and walked to him, holding her arms out. He didn’t hesitate at all before running to her and she picked him up easily, his tiny legs wrapping around her waist.

“It’s all right. It’s just a storm. I’ve got you.”

He buried his face in her chest and Lin smiled. She didn’t know why she had been so worried. She could handle this.

“Let’s get you back into bed.”

“No!”

“I’ll sit with you until the storm is gone, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

Lin carried him quietly down the hall to the room he shared with Meelo.

“Now we have to be quiet so we don’t wake up your brother, okay?”

Rohan lifted his head from her chest and nodded quickly. She pushed open the door and moved to the small bed in the farthest corner of the room. She glanced over at Meelo who was completely covered by his blankets but thankfully still sleeping. Lin sat on the edge of Rohan’s bed and he jumped from her arms, immediately pulling his own blanket over his head. Just as she started to coax him into laying down lightning flashed again and Lin closed her eyes in anticipation of what was to come.

The storm must be right over them now because the next boom of thunder shook the house so badly that the windows rattled. Lin heard a shrill scream from one of the rooms down the hall and she watched as Meelo shot 4 feet into the air on a gust of wind, startling awake.

Perfect.

Lin carefully uncovered Rohan, the young airbender not waiting for an invitation before jumping back into Lin’s arms. They stood and turned to where Meelo now sat with his eyes wide and staring.

“Come on, Meelo. You can ride on my back.”

Lin suspected that Meelo wasn’t actually all that frightened of the storm but wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to take full advantage of Lin’s offer. He jumped on her back and she felt it in her knees. When did the kid get so heavy? He got into a more comfortable position and Lin lead them all into the and down the hall towards Ikki’s room.

“Ikki?”

A small head popped out from under her blankets. Lin walked to the edge of the bed and started to sit, Meelo jumping from her back and perching on the corner of his sister’s bed while Rohan curled up against her chest. The rain was coming down hard now and the thunder and lightning was going off at regular intervals.

Rohan was still holding tightly to Lin and as she looked at Ikki’s nervous face she knew there was only one thing to do.

“Ikki, move over so I can lay down next to you.”

The young girl’s face lit up in apparent surprise but she moved over without a word. Lin pried Rohan from her arms and laid him on the bed next to Ikki before shuffling herself into the position next to him.

“Can, can you be in the middle? Just so I know you’re really here.”

Lin refrained from letting out a sigh before she shifted Rohan to her other side, inching herself closer to Ikki. She immediately nestled into Lin’s side and she could feel her heartbeat slow. Meelo was already asleep sitting up against the wall and Lin was hopeful she would be able to sneak away before long.

Of course, the universe had other plans as the loudest crack of thunder yet rang out across the sky. Even Lin herself jumped at the sound and Ikki let out another shriek. Meelo seemed a bit more concerned now as he moved closer to Lin, taking up the spot between the wall and Ikki.

“Are you guys okay?”

Lin started as she looked up to see Jinora standing in the doorway. That girl really was twinkletoes the third, she hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Everything is fine. It appears not everyone is a fan of the storm.”

“Oh, okay. I’m glad everyone is okay.”

Lin raised an eyebrow as Jinora still lingered in the doorway.

“Maybe you can come join us and help me keep an eye on these three?”

The teenager’s face relaxed as she climbed up to join them, curling up at the foot of the bed with her head against Lin’s legs. There was another flash of lightning and Lin decided she had had enough. Before the thunder could disturb them she wriggled her right hand free from under Ikki and made a quick, violent movement with her hand. Thick slabs of earth shot up from the floor to the ceiling, soundproofing their little room against the raging storm outside. She had left a small opening by the doorway so she could make her escape once they were asleep again.

It didn’t take long for the four tiny heartbeats to slow to a resting pace but it was then that Lin realized she was in the unfortunate situation of not being able to move without risking waking everyone up again. She took in a deep breath and weighed her options. She could move in one quick motion and hope for the best. But she was already so tired and didn’t want to deal with any more bedtime routines. She supposed she could just close her eyes for a bit, at least until the storm had passed. She shifted slightly, getting as comfortable as she could with the gaggle of airbenders she was surrounded by. She’d just close her eyes for a few minutes…

///////////

It had taken Kya longer than she expected to return to the island, the thunderstorm making it impossible for the ferry to make the trip across the bay. She hoped Lin was doing okay, last she knew Tenzin’s kids weren’t overly fond of storms.

What Kya didn’t expect was to find Lin completely passed out in a bed with her nieces and nephews draped all over her. Rohan had his head on Lin’s chest, her arm wrapped around him protectively as an impressive drool stain spread across Lin’s shirt. Ikki and Meelo were back to back on Lin’s other side, Ikki hugging Lin’s arm close to her as she rested her head on Lin’s shoulder. Jinora was curled on her side at the foot of the bed, her head resting in between Lin’s sprawled legs.

Lin’s face was more relaxed than Kya had seen it in a long while. Even in sleep, her partner was full of tension but right now she looked peaceful. Kya smiled as she backed out of the room, avoiding the large stone slabs Lin must have used to shelter the room from the loud sounds of the storm.

The house was quiet and Kya dragged herself to Tenzin and Pema’s empty bed, determined to get a little bit of sleep before the sun began to rise. She smiled again as the image of Lin and the kids snuggled together flashed in her mind. She laid her head down, sleep overtaking her as soon as her eyes had closed.

#legend of korra #kyalin #lin beifong #fanfic

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anonymous-swiftie · 3 years

Text

If you are on twitter, please retweet this:

https://twitter.com/ASwiftie00/status/1334245577933148164?s=19

Dear #Swifties,

I'm new on tumblr, and I really don't know how to use it.

I know you are the best supporters of the music industry and I'm here to ask your help.

I'm fighting with a crippling depression, that due this covid situation just got worse.

I'm at my lowest, I truly don't know if I will make it through this time.

I always dreamed to talk to Taylor, since I was a teenager. She is the only one that make me feel like I do fit in this world.

I've created this account because I know she is very active here, and I'm trying to reach her with this part of my story.

You can read everything below.

I didn't write any personal information because I don't want this to be seen by my family or somebody that can recognise me.

I don't want upset anyone.

I know that everyone hope to meet or chat with her, and so you are probably wondering why you have to share this here.

You're totally right, maybe it's a stupid idea to ask you this, but I haven't anything left in my pocket to fight this situation, and you're my only hope right now.

Thank you.

#taylor #swift

*******************************************

Dear Taylor,

I keep writing and deleting this, over and over again.

I feel so dumb to write my personal story here, but this truly is my last chance to feel better and try to overcome this giant monster called depression.

I genuinly don't know if I can make it through this year. It's the worst period of my entire life and i don't even know if it's worth living this hell anymore.

I know you have millions of supporters (that probably write you every single day, and they are all better fans than I am, that's for sure) but I know that you proved, time after time, to be so down to earth and to use your time to read your fans messages.. so, in this moment, I'm just trying to share a part of my story with you.

You are the one that make feel understood, since I was like 13teen.

I'm so sorry if my English isn't very good but I'll do my best.

I'm not very active on social media , because I'm very shy when I have to talk about myself.. but If this could work, I must do it.

I will try to send a letter, If I can find the strength to mark this feeling on paper.

**IF I'M WRITING TO SOMEBODY FROM HER STAFF, PLEASE JUST LET THIS MESSAGE REACH TAYLOR**

I'll try now to resume, because I don't want to bother you too much.

This has been a crazy year so far, and the all the time I spent by myself during the lockdown didn't help at all.

This situation brought me back to childhood.

I spent a lot of my days back and forth in hospitals, due to my allergies.

I had to wear a mask all the time I wanted to go outside to avoid severe allergic reaction (that's why this Covid thing awakened some hurting memories)

I didn't have real friends back then, 'cause I've spent most of the summers at home, watching other kids playing around, from my window, or from the windows of my classroom.

It was so hard to make new friends, because the only thing that other kids saw was my mask.

I was the masked kid.

I was the strange kid.

I couldn't play with them.

Everytime I tried to play with them, the only thing I heard was "oh you are ill , I don't wanna be like you so stay away".

This situation made me start to write things in my personal diary.

I wrote small sentences, as a kid, and that was the only thing I could do alone inside an empty classroom during all summer.

This situation continued for many years.

I wasn't the cool kid before, I wasn't the cool guy after.

The only things that let me enjoy those days were writing and listening to your songs.

I started to listen to your music thanks to my English teacher. She was a fan of folk and country music and she gave me a pic in which you were singing near a lake (I still have that photo somewhere, I strongly remember the white banner with your name written in red on it) and told me to listen to the cd she gave me that day.

I immediately fell in love (I think I still have a crush on you, I'm sorry).

I loved your album. I loved your voice. I loved the lyrics.

I remember having a "test" in school: each one of the class had to write their favourite lyrics and let the others guess the song.

If the someone guessed It, We could play the cd.

I chose Love Story and I translated it in Italian.

The class guessed the song, and I played it.

After the lunch break I went back to my desk and I saw some bullies that were breaking my cd-album and they started to laugh at me because I loved your music an I loved writing poems.

I was a boy so I was a loser because I enjoyed those things.

That felt terrible, but I continued to love your songs even more .

Those were my inspiration to write and to study english.

I felt so good when I listened to your album and this still happens.

Then I went to a private high-school.

Nothing changed, I still was the nerd guy that always got good grades and I have to say that the first year was quite good, but the second year was the start of the apocalypse.

I choose that school because two girls that I knew from childhood went there.

One of the cool new guys started to spread a fake "news" about me.

He said to everyone that I was the boyfriend of one of the two girls that I mentioned before.

So he was the cool guy and one of the girls believed him and told me to f*** myself.

The other girl was her best friend, so you could imagine by what happened next.

After 14 year spent together, I was nobody.

I didn't have "friends" in that class anymore.

I didn't say hello to anybody for 4 years, and nobody would say anything to me.

Nobody to talked with me.

That's great when you're a teenager.

I hated to wake up every morning.

I had an eating disorder, I lost like 22pounds in less than a month. Got hospitalized twice. I kept vomiting for 3 years, every single morning before school.

During that time I only talked with one of my cousins, who lived like 2 hours by car from me.

He was older than me but he always tried to help.

He knew that I loved to write poems so he started to give me guitar lessons.

I made it through a lot of things thanks to him.

I'm sorry, It's hard for me to write this part of the story.

I still get emotional when I think about this.

On the 10TH of December 2013 (some days after his birthday) we received a phone call from his mother: She warned us that he didn't return home after the last working shift.

I wrote a message to him like 3 hours prior to that phone call.

Never had the opportunity to get a reply again.

This year is the seventh year that he is missing.

That destroyed me.

I felt empty.

I felt like nothing couldn't help me.

I still feel that everytime I care about someone in my life, it will disappear someday.

This have happened several other times.

You know when ignorants say that men don't cry, is real bullshit. Men cry. I cried a lot.

I wrote so many poems , lyrics, thoughts in that period of time, that I destroyed my hands.

That was the only way to close my eyes and let me reach another reality because the real one was way too much for me.

Be a sensible man in this world is somehow a curse.

All these things made me afraid even to hug someone 'cause I feel I'm too ugly or just to scared to be refused.

I will stop here my story, but there's so much more to tell.

I make it through all of these things and memories because I keep dreaming that one day I could meet you and we could talk together.

Dreaming about the fact I could spend a day with you made me find the power to battle my depression.

I'm 25 now and this year I'm not dreaming anymore.

I was going to start again university, I wanted to get a degree in marketing and have the chance to live in the us.

For years I believed that I would make it and hopefully be part of your marketing team.

I'm so stupid. All these years I kept dreaming to avoid pain.

I wanted to pursue my passion and continue to write lyrics but all I was doing was putting myself in unrealistic realities.

This covid situation made everything clear.

When everyone had someone to facetime (or video call) I was alone.

When everyone had someone asking them "how are you?" I only had myself looking in the mirror saying: "Will I ever feel better?"

I've never been the one for anybody, and I think I'll never be.

I won't be the one among all your fans to realize his dream.

Nobody likes me, and I'm exposing myself once again just because I want the opportunity to smile at something that could happen to me.

I'm tired to smile only for others best moments.

I've always seen the sun through a window.

I want to feel happy.

I want to burn my face with the sun.

I'm so sick of hiding my pain,

sick to cry when I'm alone in my car before going to work,

sick to let my eyes rain on my pillow every night.

I'm sick to say to my mother that I'm fine, just because I don't want to make her feel bad.

It's not her fault.

She is battling with a degenerative autoimmune disease, why I should put other weight on her shoulders?

I didn't give up to my weakness before because I don't want to hurt her.

I always say to her that soon she will feel better, that's why your song It's stuck in my head.

But when she won't be here anymore, how I can go through all of that?

I don't even know if will ever get better for me.

Will this pain ever stop?

Sometimes it's so hard to live and so easy to die.

Hope that my dream to spend some time with you can become true.

Thank you for everything, you gave me the strength to go on for many years.. But this time is so hard to put on my armor and continue this battle.

But is this even worth if thy I try to surround myself with people and I always feel lonely?

@taylorswift @taylornation @jackleopards-thedolphinclub

#swifties #taylor swift #folkore #music #ts spoilers #lover taylor swift #taylornation #swiftified13 #day 13 #pop music #books and libraries #writers #history #musicians #quotes #loneliest #love taylor #hopes and dreams

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gwynrielendgame · 3 years

Text

Nyx and Tamlin’s daughter part 2

Again no one really read the first part, but I don’t care! I have been inspired to write again, so I am just going with the flow. Also, I read somewhere that instead of describing accents you should just write how the accent sounds when the character speaks, but idk. If you think it’s annoying comment and I might change it for the other parts I’ve written.

"I apologize for my parents. They mean well, but I think my mother secretly still harbors negative feelings for your father."

Nyx felt it was necessary to apologize for his parents behavior. They have been less than diplomatic tonight and it must have been because of their pasts with Tamlin. Nevertheless, they invited Tamlin here tonight for peace and instead, offered spiteful exchanges. He glanced at Isa from the corner of his eye as they strolled down the garden path. It was beautiful especially at night. His aunt Elain tended to it often which made the flowers more beautiful than any other garden he had seen. He liked looking at her. Not necessarily for her beauty, although he could say with confidence that she was beautiful. She was not beautiful in the way that Elain or Mor were, but in the way that someone obviously powerful was. It was more about her essence. Everything about her was enticingly unique.

"That is strange, is it not?" She quirked a single eyebrow at him with a smirk lifting the edge of her mouth. He placed his hands in his pockets to avoid awkwardly fidgeting in the way his mother often did.

"What is strange?"

"That your mother left him for another man who zhe iz happily married to with three children, yet zhe haz ill will for him? Zeemz a bit backward, no?"

Nyx gave her a strange look. She had been hiding how heavy her accent truly was at dinner. Perhaps she had dropped her guard now that they were alone or perhaps she was tired of hiding it. Either way Nyx liked listening to it.

"Tamlin was awful to my mother when they were together. She's allowed to feel angry at him."

"Zo the story goez."

Isa stopped to pluck a particularly beautiful rose. Nyx took it from her hands gently. Only to stick it behind her ear. She gave him a small smile before they continued on their walk.

"How have I never heard of you?" Nyx asked the question that had been burning at the back of his mind since Tamlin introduced her. "You must be Pyrinthian's best kept secret."

Again, she sent him a small secretive smile while twirling down the path. Her dress made large swooping motions around her body as she seemed to dance to a song only found in her head.

"It iz tradition that young witchez are raised in their coven, completely izolated from other fae. It iz dangerous for young witchlings when their powers are not yet controlled. 'Unnatural' magic as your kin like to call it, does not lizten to the influence of the witch when their mind iz not strong."

"What can happen?"

"There are stories of young children killing their peers on accident when trying to show off."

"Is that why Fae fear your kind? Because it is unpredictable?"

"All witch magic has a price. The spirits aid us when we call onto them and they seek a price. There iz a method to the price but it iz subject to change depending on the spirit that answers. Your father was not wrong when he said blood magic brings chaos. The reason blood magic iz so feared iz because it can attract all zorts of evil spirits and monsters, which can be part of the appeal." She chuckled as she said this and shook her head. "How many times have your parents required the azzistance from a monster?"

"More than I would like to admit."

"Despite that, not all witch magic iz blood magic. Your father's ignorance iz thinking they are one in the same." Isa took a seat at one of the benches and Nyx followed suit. He sat a bit closer than newly acquainted fae should, but he hardly cared.

"So you were raised amongst your kind? Did you get to see your father much?" Nyx was curious about this secretive female. He wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

"He caused havoc and mayhem in order to zee me. They refused until my first shape shift when I was two and they realized they did not know how to help that. My mother had been zecretly sneaking me to see him before then though."

"Fascinating."

"How do you know zo much about witches?" She asked while pushing her short hair behind her ear. Nyx reached out and clasped her hand in his. He started to trace a small tattoo on the outside of her pointer finger.

"Honestly? I do not know much. A few of them have given some information over idle pillow talk though." He admitted with a shrug.

"Charming. Speak of your past conquests to your new one." She said it with a wide smile, so Nyx was not concerned that he had actually upset her.

"I would not call you my new conquest." He gave her a cheeky smile that she shook her head to with a chuckle.

"No? Zo you escort me out here to win my heart or from the goodness of your own?"

"Perhaps I escort you out here as a gentleman."

"That iz not what your reputation would suggest." She lifted her eyebrows at him.

"I have a reputation?" Nyx was wholly unaware of any reputation that might precede him unless it had something to do with his parents. Isa pulled her hand back into her own lap.

"Nyx, prince of the night court, zon of Feyre 'cursebreaker' Archeron, high lady of the night court and Rhyzand high lord of the night court. Intelligent and agile. Mediocre combat training, excellent spy potential, enjoys the attention of any and all females, and zuccezzfully gains the attention with uave charm and dashing good looks."

"You definitely did your research." He leaned back on the bench and crossed his arms over his chest as she leaned in a bit more.

"Believe it or not, those words were straight from Lucien before we winnowed here." She mock whispered.

"That seems a bit unfair. He gave me no information on you. I'd also argue I am much better than mediocre at hand-to-hand combat." Nyx felt a bit miffed that he had been described as mediocre at anything, but begrudgingly he knew Lucien was right.

"Be careful, I might be tempted to challenge you." She gave a wickedly mischievous smile before turning her head up to look at the stars. She plucked the rose from behind her ear and began twirling it between her fingers.

"What would we be wagering for?"

"The title of best fighter. Might give our parents zomething to boast about." She continued to look at the sky instead of him.

"Hmm. Not appealing enough. Perhaps for a kiss though?" He jested. Although, he imagined a kiss from her would be amazing.

"I zuppose. If you think winning a kizz will be easier than charming one from me, then you have severely misjudged me."

"Oh I know," he sent a wide, goofy smile her way. "I would need you to kiss the pain away after you kick my ass."

"Relentlezz." A genuine smile finally lit her face up. It made her even more beautiful.

"You are a mind reader, right? Can you tell me what I am thinking of?" She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and rubbed her temples with her pointer and middle fingers. It was the epitome of concentration but it only caused him to laugh and shake his head.

"You mean my daemati powers?" He attempted to infiltrate her mind only to be met with steel mind barriers. He did not think his father would even be able to get past those.

"Daemati?" She drug out the word as if she was testing how it sounded on her lips. "How does it work?"

"For some people, I can slip into their mind and hear their thoughts and experience their memories. Your mind, however," he poked her forehead right between her eyebrows. "Is too guarded. I supposed I will have to get to know you the old fashioned way."

She pushed her bottom lip out in a pout.

"That iz not fun." He laughed loudly at her expression. She seemed truly gutted that he could not read her mind. It was such an opposite reaction to how most people felt of the ability. It seemed like the deepest of privacy invasions to most. It was why he tried to limit using it as much as possible.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Mediocre damn-ti can be added to your list." She stood up and placed the rose that was in her lap behind Nyx’s ear. He laughed but left it there anyhow. They started back towards the house.

"Daemati. And I would say my inability to infiltrate your mind speaks more to the strength of your power than a lack of mine."

She sent him a mischievous smile before grabbing his hand and twirling herself under his arm as she hummed a tune. She amused him with her peculiar behavior.

"Are you nervous to be High lady some day?" He figured she of all people would understand the anxiety he has been feeling lately to fill his parents footsteps. What if he messed up? What if he failed?

"Have not thought of it much."

"Truly?" She gave a simple nod before responding.

"I worry more about my father's death than the power I would have after it. He iz all I have left."

"I always imagined my parents voluntarily stepping down to give me the title. They seem so invincible. Perhaps that is the child in me." He did not like to imagine their deaths, but even so at least he would have a plethora of help. He had so many mentors that could show him the way. He felt bad that Isa only had Tamlin. Lucien too, probably.

"It iz sweet that you feel that way. I have zeen too much to believe that anyone is invincible."

"I just worry that I will fail. Or that I won't live up to their standards." Nyx had many a nightmares about this specific situation.

"That iz a lot of prezzure considering you are not yet High Lord." She bumped his shoulder with hers. He stumbled a step from surprise, but bumped her back.

"I will be one day though."

"What if one of you zisters get the throne instead of you? And then you wasted all dis time for nothing."

"Neither want it. Even if the power transfers to them, they have both said they will leave the title to me."

"You will probably fail and ruin your parents hard work." She said in a serious tone with a grave look on her face.

"Thanks." He deadpanned.

"But you will have me as an ally, no? And I will be ready dig you out of whatever hole you have dug. I am quite wise and known for my generosity." He could sense a hint of sarcasm with her last sentence, but felt honored that she was so freely giving her support anyways.

"Be careful, you might be underestimating how much trouble I could get us into."

#nyx acotar #acotar #tamlins daughter #tamlin #feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand

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jenonctcity · 4 years

Text

Shadows In The Snow

Lee Jeno – Smut/Fluff/Angst

Prince!Au, Royalty!Au

Warnings: Mentions of Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Explicit Sex, Mild Violence, Mentions of Character Death, Mentions of Illness.

Word Count: 20k

(This is NOT part of the Charia Kingdom Series. This is a completely different story and is not related to that series at all.)

An arranged marriage between the Prince of the Northern Kingdom and the Princess of the Southern Kingdom came as a surprise to both of them. Neither of them had wanted the forced marriage, but being under the thumbs of their parents, they both had no choice. The Princess is sent to the Northern Kingdom to live alongside her future husband but is met by a reluctant and cold Prince. Not wanting to know his bride, he’s distant and mean, not caring if she gets offended or upset by his actions. How does he react after a severe turn of events happen? Love or Hatred? Prince Jeno questions everything in his head and comes to a final conclusion about his future.

You could remember the first time you stepped foot into the castle of the Northern Kingdom. The air was warm despite the cold bite of the weather outside, the rooms lit up brightly making the place feel welcoming, and the entrance hall so pristine it was almost glowing. Of course, the palace you grew up in was just as lavish as the palace the Lee family lived in, but it felt like you were stepping into a whole new world. Whereas your home was filled with warm colours to match the humidity and setting of your Southern Kingdom, the interior of the palace in the Northern Kingdom matched the snow that fell from the sky and laid thick on the ground. The only warm colour was that of the candles lit inside lanterns that lined the walls, and the gold that mixed in amongst the white. Not much natural light came through the windows from the flurry of snow that fell from the sky blocking the sun. That was five years ago, and it still felt exactly the same to you, apart from this time you had a gut wrenching feeling of anxiety from the lack of comfort you felt. Before you had been surrounded by royals you didn’t even know the name of, lords and ladies, and people who had a stupid amount of money. This time you only had Mark, a royal servant, as your company. From what you could gather, he was a kind man, and you could only assume he was Prince Jeno’s personal assistant. He was dressed in typical servant attire, his black suit being quite the contrast to the white interior of the halls he walked you down. Before you had been in the palace for a ball. One that would mix the future heirs of the Kingdoms together in hopes of possible alliances and marriages. Now you were walking down the halls of the Kingdom to meet your future husband.

When your father had graced the news upon you that you, the Princess of the South, would be marrying Jeno, the Prince of the North, you’d actually been rather excited. You’d met the Prince once before at a ball his family held in their castle. He’d asked you to dance and before you knew it, he was whisking you around the dance floor at the age of fifteen with his hand in your own. He was very sweet from what you could remember. His boyishly handsome face and adorable eye smile being imprinted in your memory as a crush on him bloomed in your stomach. After the dance, he’d bowed to you and pressed a kiss to the back of your gloved hand. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and now you were nervous for your reunion with the blond Prince. The people of the Northern Kingdom were known to have black hair that stood out amongst the bright snow, however, the royal family all had light coloured hair, it running in the family for generations. You knew this from all the portraits on the walls that had golden plaques highlighting the names of each royal family member. You were brought out of your thoughts by the muffled sound of shouting coming from behind a closed door. Your eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as Mark stopped in front of the door. This led you to believe the aggressive voice behind the oak door was that belonging to Prince Jeno. Mark hesitated, the voice as clear as day, and he didn’t know whether to take you away or to follow the strict instructions he had of taking you to meet the Prince. Your palms started to sweat as you listened to the deep voice.

“I won’t do it. You can’t force me to marry some random girl I’ve never even met!” His voice echoed around the room and into the hall where you stood. You felt a hot flush run through you, and you doubted it was from the warmer clothes you’d been stuffed into upon arriving in the cold kingdom.

“I can and I am.” A softer voice retorted, not sounding at all phased by the argument at hand. “You have met her.”

“Well obviously she isn’t that special since I can’t remember her.” The voice growled before a thud of wood hitting the marble floor sounded.

“Stop acting like a child and take on the responsibilities of a Prince. You’re an adult now Jeno and you better start acting like it.” You looked down at your feet, refusing to look up at Mark as you felt embarrassed from hearing all of this. Sadness flooded your body; all the excitement having been drained from you upon hearing the argument between the Prince and what you could only assume was the King.

“Fuck. You.” The deep voice growled before the sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the room, a dead silence followed that. Mark was frozen on the spot, not wanting to interrupt but feeling guilty for listening in. You felt bad for the young servant. He was clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Don’t you dare speak to your father like that ever again Jeno.” A soft but stern voice of a woman piped up.

“I’m sorry Princess, I didn’t mean for you to hear that.” Mark whispered and when no one spoke from behind the door, Mark used this as an opportunity to knock on the door. You bowed your head to him and tried your best to plaster on a fake smile despite the heartache you were feeling beneath.

“Come in.” The woman’s voice spoke, and Mark opened the door.

“Your majesties,” He bowed to the King and Queen, then turned to Prince Jeno. “Your highness,” He bowed to him and then cleared his throat. “Princess (Y/N) of the Southern Kingdom has arrived.” He stepped out of the way to reveal your nervous figure. You bowed to them and continued to keep your fake smile on your face. You glanced over at Prince Jeno timidly. The first thing you noticed was the bright red mark on his cheek from where he’d been struck by the Queen. Then you noticed the hard look on his face. He looked at you like he wanted you to tumble to your death off of a cliff, like you meant absolutely nothing to him. You also noticed how handsome he’d grown to be. He had deep eyes that you wanted to get lost in but stopped yourself from doing, his strong jaw making his cold expression look even more severe and his pink lips forming a hard line. He was wearing his white and gold uniform, you thought he probably had to be forced into it due to his reluctance to fulfil his Princely duty of marrying you. He had also grown a lot since the last time you saw him, his now tall frame looking daunting to you as his broad shoulders were clearly tensed up. His blond hair was parted off of his forehead and he had a crown perched on top of his head. Your smile faltered and you averted your gaze quickly, then noticing the chair that was upturned on the floor. That must have been the wooden noise you’d heard clattering from behind the door.

“Welcome my dear!” The Queen smiled a wide smile quickly, approaching you with her arms out. When she got to you, she cupped your cheeks and looked into your eyes. She didn’t say anything, but she could tell by the wateriness of them that you’d heard everything that had just been said. “Did you have a safe journey?” She tried to distract you and lift your spirits, her stomach fluttering in guilt at her son’s behaviour. She looked at your long-sleeved dress that went down to your feet. The thick, red material being a symbol of your Kingdom’s red flag. “Are you warm enough? I know how much different it must be from the heat of your Kingdom.”

“Yes, your majesty.” You spoke quietly and gave her a weak smile. She let go of your cheeks and instead took your hand into one of her own.

“Let me introduce you to my family.” You’d never met the King and Queen before, but you’d seen them from afar those many years ago when you’d attended the ball they held at their palace. They both hadn’t aged a day from what you could remember, their faces looking youthful with slight age marks around their eyes. The Queen was probably one of the most beautiful women you’d ever laid eyes on. You felt like dirt compared to her and tried to push back the self-conscious feeling you felt. She had long blonde hair that was dead straight and stopped at her waist, two braids met in the middle of her head to keep her hair out of her face and the golden crown she had on top of her head gave her an ethereal look. You knew that she was too in your position once, but you doubted it went down the same way as it was in that moment. You wondered if she was chosen to marry the King because of her blonde hair, assuming the Royal family wanted to keep up the gene of them all being light haired. Gazing at the Queen made you long for your own mother, the Queen of the Southern Kingdom. You gulped back the lump in your throat and looked at the King as she introduced him.

“This is my husband, the King of the Northern Kingdom.” He bowed his head to you and gave you a genuine smile that reached his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice how much his son looked like him, they had the same face shape and nose, but the Prince had his mother’s lips and eyes. Together the two had made the most beautiful offspring.

“It’s a pleasure to have you in our home, I hope you feel welcome here and I’m happy to welcome you into the family.” His words felt sincere, but you didn’t feel welcome at all, at least not from the Prince. The King and Queen were doing a good job at making you feel comfortable though and it made you wonder how to lovely people such as themselves produced such a cold son.

“And this is our son, Prince Jeno.” She smiled, giving him a wide-eyed look that told him he was going to regret acting up in front of you. He let out a long sigh and bowed to you even though he looked reluctant to do so. “I wish you both good health and fortune in your upcoming marriage.” They both bowed once more before leaving you alone with the Prince in the sitting room you’d been brought to. Jeno let out a sigh and looked at Mark.

“Take the Princess to her chambers.” When Mark hesitated for a moment, clearly having been instructed by someone else to do something different, Jeno raised his voice. “Now!”

“Right this way your highness.” Mark exited the room quickly. You gave Jeno one last look, your heart pounding in disappointment as you looked at him. He turned his back to you and his shoulders stayed rigid until he heard the door shut behind him. You trailed after Mark through the daunting halls of the unfamiliar palace, feeling nauseous for your next meeting with the hostile Prince.

---

You tried to think of many ways to get out of going to dinner with your fiancé. However, as you sat on your larger than needed bed, you couldn’t think of any good excuses that would excuse you from meeting with the Prince. A maid had knocked on your door, waiting for your response before letting herself in. She told you it was time for you to get ready for your dinner, and she’d presented you with a baby blue and gold dress. The baby blue material was made from the finest of silk, with gold coloured lace adorning the top portion of the long-sleeved garment. The skirt came down to your ankles, and you’d been given a pair of matching blue heels to wear. The maid had then brushed out your long hair and plaited it, so the thick plait fell over your right shoulder. When you looked into the gold framed body length mirror, you couldn’t help but think about how innocent you looked. Your eyes were no longer red from the sobbing you’d done after Mark had left you alone in your new bedroom, but they still felt heavy and itchy.

“The Prince will be so shocked when he sees how beautiful you look your highness.” The sweet maid smiled at you from where she stood behind you. You caught her eye in the mirror and gave her a weak smile.

“What’s your name?” You asked in a quiet voice, feeling the comfort of her voice seep into you.

“My name is Nayeon, Princess (Y/N).” She kept up formalities as she bowed her head to you, the grandfather clock in the corner of your room chimed, signifying the turn of the hour. “Oh, it’s time to head down to dinner. You’ll be dining with Prince Jeno in his private dining area.”

“Will it just be the two of us?” You asked meekly, your hands clasped together as you played with your fingers in nervousness.

“Yes, your highness, now if you’d like to follow me.” You hesitated for a second before you followed her. She took you down the wide hall and you noticed that the temperature had dropped since the sun had gone down, making a light chill cascade up your spine, with the only light available coming from the lit lanterns flickering on the wall. She guided you around a corner and down one more hall before stopping in front of an open door. “Just through there, your dinner will be served soon.” She smiled and motioned for you to enter the room with your hand. You timidly took a step into the room, it looking like a typical dining room for a royal with a dark oak table in the centre, two chairs opposite each other on either side. A lit candle was on the middle of the table, in between two beautifully decorated plates. You then noticed Prince Jeno stood beside the table, he stood up straighter as you entered the room and bowed to you. You returned the bow, opening your mouth to speak but not really knowing what to say to him.

“Sit.” He pulled out one of the chairs and motioned with his head for you to sit. You hurried to take a seat, not wanting him to get mad at you like he had previously shown earlier on in the day.

“Thank you.” You spoke quietly, placing your hands in your lap and keeping your posture straight as you watched him sit in the chair opposite you. You let out a gentle sigh, averting your eyes and glancing around the room at the décor. He made no effort to start up a conversation with you, and you had no idea what you could possibly say to the Prince that would make him want to talk to you. Dinner was served and Jeno barely even looked at you. The silence made you feel sick and you hardly touched your food. He noticed, but he didn’t care. If you wanted to starve yourself then that was your problem, not his.

You left the dining room feeling dejected and sad. Nayeon took you back to your room and pretended as if she didn’t know that the Prince had hardly spoken with you, keeping a gentle smile on her face. She helped you get ready for bed, and then left you on your own with nothing but the light of the moon shining through the gap in the curtains. You sat on your bed, looking up at the ceiling as tears flooded your vision. You let out a long sigh, trying to contain your emotions as a wave of homesickness came over you. It was no use, because tears streamed from your eyes the second you thought about your parents. In a way you knew you should feel resentful of them for sending you away to a kingdom you didn’t really know to marry someone you’d only met once, but you knew they only did it because they had to. Your kingdom had been met by a financial crisis, and the first thing the royal advisors told your parents to do was to marry you off to a Prince from a financially stable kingdom. Obviously, your parents went to the richest kingdom out of the four kingdoms in your country. The Northern kingdom was best known for cold weather and its army, it had a reputation of being the saviour when it comes to wars with other countries across the sea. During wars, all four kingdoms banded together, and it was always after the army from the North got to the battle that it would end up being won. The Eastern kingdom was known for its rainy weather and the luscious fruit and vegetables that it produced. Food from the Eastern kingdom could be found in any of the four kingdoms as it was a highly traded good. The Western kingdom best known for its fishing and fashion; those being traded amongst the kingdoms for such a low price that the demand for the products kept the economy running. And your kingdom, the Southern kingdom, was known for its high population and poverty. It’s not something you were proud of, but the people in control were trying their hardest to get rid of the people living on the streets and give them a roof over their heads. Especially as your country had blistering heat almost all year round. You didn’t even want to think of the people who died from the exposure to the sun. But due to the financial crisis, this wasn’t achievable, so when your parents came to you about the arranged marriage, you didn’t kick up a fuss about it and instead decided to think of the positives, which led to you actually being excited about the marriage. Now though, you just wanted to go home.

---

A whole week of being ignored by the Prince had done nothing to lift your spirits. Well he hadn’t ignored you, but you wouldn’t class irritated looks of disgust over dinner every night to be polite. It really seemed to you like he hated you, and it felt like a knife being twisted in your stomach every time Nayeon would come to your room to collect you for a meal with your future spouse. The only time you could remember smiling and feeling genuinely happy was when the Queen had summoned you for lunch one afternoon. She’d made you feel welcome and tried her hardest not to talk about her son, instead asking you about your life and recommending things for you to do in the palace in your free time. Apart from that, you just counted down the days until your marriage whilst you strolled around the palace absentmindedly.

On Friday, you’d been dressed up in a pale pink gown. You’d gotten used to the long sleeves and heavy materials over the past week, nearly all of your new clothes being suited for the cold weather outside. You were glad though, because you still found yourself getting cold even under all the cloth you had draped over your body. Your hair had been pinned in a half up, half down style, the section that was up having been plaited into a bun. You felt pretty, which gave you a small burning of positivity in your gut. At midday, you’d been taken to the main dining hall. It was much larger than the intimate one you’d been eating with the Prince in, and you’d much prefer to have dinner with him in there from now on. Your eyes laid on a young man. He had a wide smile and black hair, his navy blue and white uniform telling you that he was of royal blood. You recognised the crest on his badge to be that of the Western kingdom. Sat at the table and not moving was Prince Jeno, he watched as the other handsome man approached you.

“Princess (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Prince Jaemin of the Western kingdom.” He bowed to you, holding his hand out for you to place yours in kiss. When you did, he brought your hand up and placed a soft kiss to the back of it. Your heart fluttered and a small smile rose on your lips. You’d known Prince Jaemin for a total of 30 seconds and he’d already shown you more affection and kindness than your own fiancé. You glanced at Jeno to see if he’d reacted to seeing another man kiss his fiancées hand, but he just watched you both with a blank look on his face. You bowed back and he didn’t let go of your hand, gently pulling you over to the table. He pulled your chair out for you and you sat down, sitting directly opposite to Jeno. Jaemin sat beside you and cleared his throat. “So, are you enjoying the North (Y/N)?” He asked, looking at you with a cute smile on his face. Where Jeno looked intimidatingly handsome, Jaemin looked the kind of handsome that had all the girls cooing over him, his smile being his killer feature.

“Oh, yes I am.” You lied with a fake smile on your face. “I can’t say that I love the weather, but everyone has made me feel so welcome.” You put emphasis on the word ‘everyone’, shooting Jeno a smile as you directed that at him. He narrowed his eyes at you and smirked in retaliation. His smirk put a horrid feeling in your stomach, because that confirmed to you that Jeno knew exactly how he was acting towards you, and that he couldn’t find it within him to care.

“That’s great!” As you spoke with Jaemin, the servants brought out the food, setting down steaming plates in front of all three of you. You sipped at your wine and listened to Jaemin as he went off on a tangent about marriage. You noticed that throughout the meal Jeno had flagged down the nearest maid multiple times to refill his glass of wine.

“May I ask what brought you here today Jaemin?” You asked when he’d finally taken a moment to stop talking and to eat instead. He swallowed his food and looked at Jeno before looking back at you. He was about to answer when Jeno spoke up first.

“He visits once a month.” His voice was deep and held little emotion.

“Oh, may I ask why?” You asked Jaemin despite it having been Jeno that gave you an answer.

“Our mothers are sisters, when his mother comes to visit my mother, she brings him with her.” Jeno was the one to answer you yet again. This is the most conversation you’d gotten out of him since you arrived, and it was a bittersweet moment for you. On one hand you were happy that he was actually talking to you, and on the other hand you were devastated that he sounded so emotionless.

“So basically, we’re cousins.” Jaemin nodded and smiled, taking a sip of his own wine. “He’s older by a few months.”

“That’s lovely.” You gave Jaemin a genuine smile and you could see that he really looks up to Jeno, despite the small age gap.

“Not as lovely as you Princess.” Jaemin winked at you and sipped at his wine again. You felt your cheeks flush and you shot a glance to Jeno who had one eyebrow raised, but apart from that, he didn’t look like he cared. “I must say, I am rather envious of my cousin for being the one to marry you, but I wish you happiness.” You almost begged Jaemin to take you away from this kingdom and to take you home with him, but you knew it wouldn’t make much difference and would only make things worse for you in the long run. “But you know where the Western kingdom is.” He winked at you. Jeno cleared his throat as a warning but Jaemin didn’t seem phased at all.

---

Jaemin’s visit two weeks ago had seemed like a lifetime ago, and you wished the handsome boy would come more often so you had something to look forward to. Jeno hadn’t spoken to you much, which you were getting used to. It made you wonder if this is how he was going to treat you even after you were married and with children. You hoped not, that was enough to make anyone go insane. It became too much for you one morning, and after sitting through breakfast on your own in the large dining room, you decided to make an effort with the Prince. Walking down the east wing of the palace that would take you straight to the Prince’s chambers, you passed Mark who had a smile on his face the moment he saw you.

“Good morning your Highness.” He bowed to you, expecting you to just bow and continue walking but you stopped, holding your hand out to him to stop him too.

“Good morning, do you happen to know where the Prince is?”

“Oh yes, I believe he’s just finished his breakfast and he’s relaxing in his bedroom. Would you like me to take you to him?”

“No that won’t be necessary, thank you Mark.” You bowed your head to him. He bowed in return and bid you goodbye. You walked towards the Prince’s bedroom and stopped in front of his door. You took in a deep breath and gingerly knocked on the door, regretting it almost immediately as all your courage drained from you.

“Come in.” The Prince’s voice called through the door. You noticed that his tone was light and airy, not like anything you’d ever heard from him since every time you’re in his presence he’s hostile and blunt. As you entered the room, you saw him look up to see who it was. His face fell when he saw you stood timidly in the doorway; his eyes boring into yours for a moment before he turned to look away once more. “What do you want?” his voice was no longer airy and light, his tone more resembling daggers stabbing at you with the intent to harm.

“I wish to get to know you better. We are going to marry after all.” You tried to hold a tone of confidence, but you were afraid you sounded like a nervous child about to tell their mother they’d wet the bed.

“I’m busy.” He grunted, not even sparing you a glance.

“Doing what might I ask?” You walked into his room, nerves flooding your body with such unease that you could feel it in your toes and fingertips. He slowly turned to look at you and narrowed his eyes, clearly not liking how you questioned him.

“Fine. Let’s spend time together.” He stood up, his chair skidding across the marble floor with an ear tingling screech. He snatched your wrist into his hand and pulled you harshly out of the room. The grip he had on you was hurting, but you decided not to say anything as he dragged you through the castle. You struggled to keep up with him, having to alternate between jogging and walking fast so that you didn’t fall. He pulled you outside into the freezing wind and let go of you. Your arms automatically wrapped around your body, goose bumps rising on your body as the long-sleeved dress you wore did nothing to protect you from the wind. Flurries of snow hit you as the sky coughed out the snow in sparse gusts. “Go stand over there by that tree.” He commanded you, pointing at a tree that had a large trunk. You gulped but obeyed him, not wanting to make him mad, but you were very confused as to why he had instructed you to do so. You trudged through the snow and stood with your back to the tree, your body shivering from the chill. He went over to a small wooden shed nearby and pulled out a bow. Your eyes widened as he grabbed 3 arrows and stood parallel to you, about 20 feet away.

“What are you doing?” You questioned as he loaded the bow with an arrow, standing with two feet apart and his left side facing you.

“Spending quality time with my fiancée! You’re helping me practice my archery!” He gave you a wide smile, but you could see the sinister look behind his eyes even from far away. “Now stand very still, don’t worry my love, I am very good at this.” He winked at you and your stomach plummeted through the snow.

‘He’s going to kill me so he doesn’t have to marry me.’ You thought to yourself as he pulled back the string, closing one of his eyes as he aimed at you. You didn’t think that the shivers you were experiencing were from the cold anymore, but from the paralysing fright you were undergoing. You couldn’t move, your feet feeling anchored to the floor like a one of the criminals they locked away in the dungeons. Jeno smirked to himself when he saw you squeeze your eyes shut, letting go of the string and sending an arrow flying towards you. It hit where he had aimed it for perfectly, and it stuck into the bark of the tree an inch above your head. You let out a whimper and flinched as you heard the ear-splitting crack of the wood above you, your heart pounding in your chest and your breathing becoming too quick for you to control.

You were having a panic attack. Something you hadn’t had in a long time. As a child you were riddled with anxiety after one of your nanny’s had told you a story of a princess being kidnapped from her home. You lived under the constant fear that bad people were going to break into your chambers and steal you in the dead of night, using the guise of the dark to get away with it. Needless to say, once your mother and father found out why you were suffering from constant anxiety attacks and would flinch whenever anyone approached you, they had banished that nanny from the castle. After months of therapy, you had found your life much easier to cope with and your parents had assigned guards to be with you and stationed outside of your door every night. You grew out of it by the time you were a teenager. But this was bringing back all the feelings you’d been able to push aside for so long, and you felt like a child once more, cowering at the thought of being killed by a stranger. Jeno loaded another arrow into his bow and aimed it at you, pausing once he saw you let out a sob, your frame hunched over and arms wrapped around yourself.

“Shit.” He mumbled, knowing he’d taken his little joke too far. He was one of the best archers in the kingdom, so he knew his arrow wouldn’t hit you. But you didn’t know that, and in your mind, he had every reason to want you dead. He lowered his bow and gulped, throwing it to the floor and running through the snow to you. “Open your eyes.” He grunted, placing his big hands on your shoulders and giving you a firm shake. You couldn’t breathe. It felt like his arrow had hit you in the throat and punctured your windpipe, the air not successfully inflating your lungs and your head feeling like someone was crushing it with their hands. “Hey!”

“D-don’t k-k-kill me.” You stuttered out, your lungs gasping for air as your throat gave it restricted access to small puffs of oxygen. Jeno was taken aback by your words. Standing frozen in the snow with his eyes watching you have a meltdown in front of him. He snapped out of his daze and gulped down his guilt, sighing like you were a nuisance as he scooped you up into his arms. You whimpered as he touched you, your body going completely stiff in his grasp as he trudged through the snow, carrying you like you weighed nothing.

“I won’t hurt you.” He mumbled, taking you inside and setting you down on a lavish chair that was in the corner of the hallway beside a small round table that held fresh flowers in a beautifully painted white and blue vase. He kneeled down on one knee so that he was facing you. “Breathe…” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, and he took one of your hands into both of his. You looked at him, your eyes bloodshot and your cheeks freezing cold from where the winter air had hit the tear tracks on your skin. You hadn’t seen him this close since you were fifteen and had been dancing with him at the ball. He was beautiful. His straight nose, his deep brown eyes, his very slightly plump but very pink lips and his strong jawline had you distracted from the internal panic you felt. Your breathing slowly steadied as he kept his stare on you, looking you dead in the eyes as he studied you. His thumb stroked the back of your hand, and you gulped down the lump in your throat as you looked at him. You bottom lip wobbled and one tear fell from your eye as your brain came back around to its normal state. “Are you alright?” He asked, slowly withdrawing his hands from your own. You nodded in response, not trusting your vocal cords to answer him. He stood up, and with a curt nod of his head he hurried off down the hall of the castle, leaving you alone in the chair he’d sat you in. Not long after Jeno’s retreat, Mark came running down the hallway with a panicked look on his face.

“Princess!” You knew that Jeno had recruited Mark to go see if you were okay. It hurt you that Jeno couldn’t even bare to be with you that much that he couldn’t stick around and be with you himself, instead he sent his servant. Mark kept asking you questions and trying to gain your attention, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about what he was saying. He timidly helped you up to your feet and took you to your bedroom, checking on your every hour to make sure you were feeling okay. You weren’t.

---

It had been three and a half weeks of your dearly beloved Prince Jeno doing his finest effort to avoid you. You had briefly seen him during a dinner that the King and Queen both required your attendance for. You sat opposite each other and he refused to meet your eye, his attention on his mother most of the night and it seemed as though he was ignoring his own father as well. Although you had no idea why he would do that to the King. But you didn’t want to ask to find out. He spoke to his mother and even sat beside her, seeming almost as if he was being clingy with her like you’d expect a 5-year-old mummy’s boy to be. She played up to his whims and always responded to him like a loving mother, even going as far to pat his cheek at one point when he shot her a small pout at something his father had said. The whole scene didn’t look very Queen and Prince like, more mother and son like. But because the dinner wasn’t official business you assumed that they didn’t care. It was now obvious to you that the slap she’d struck Jeno with on your first day in the castle was a very rare occurrence.

You had spent a few afternoons with the Queen, getting to know her and learning how to do your official duties as the upcoming Princess and Queen of the Northern Kingdom. She was a very gentle soul and you always felt comfortable around her. As for the King, you didn’t really see him much unless it was in passing or that one time during your dinner with the royal family. Nayeon went missing for a week, and Mark had told you that she was on leave for those 7 days just to visit her family, but that she would be back again in no time. So for that week you had no one to keep you company, which saddened you deeply and left you wallowing in your loneliness as if you were being punished like a criminal on trial for manslaughter.

When Nayeon came back she made sure to spend a lot of time with you to make up for her absence. She made you tea every night before you slept, and she would tell you stories that her family had embarked on. Your favourite story of hers was the one about her father going into war when she was a child. Her father had been in the Northern army and had fought along many men, old and young, in an attempt to stop the four Kingdoms being invaded by the Country of Hacin across the seas. You remembered being very young when armies from all four Kingdoms banded together to fight off the incoming threat. The war had started after your parents refused to set you up for an arranged marriage with Prince Renjun of Hacin. They didn’t want you to be in a different country, so they refused the offer presented to them. Which the King and Queen of Hacin didn’t like. Causing them to declare war. It was mostly the Western Kingdom that got the brunt of the war, as they were the Kingdom parallel to Hacin across the sea. The troops made their way to the Western Kingdom and fought against the threat, but it wasn’t until the Northern Kingdom joined that the war finally came to an end. You had heard that thousands of men had lost their lives in battle, and you were eternally grateful to them all. Nayeon’s father was one of the men who never made it home to their families, and that’s the reason why it was your favourite story of hers. Because you could see the pain in her eyes and her strained tone in her voice as she tried to hold back her tears, and it made you feel grateful for the life you’d been given. You had made sure that Nayeon knew how you felt towards the war and she could tell that you were grateful for her father’s sacrifice.

A few days ago you started to feel really hot, despite the chill drifting in like a haze into your room through the open window. The curtains billowing from the slight breeze the cold winters air presented the Kingdom with. You shouldn’t shake the burning feeling that you had sitting inside of you like a furnace with an unlimited supply of coal. It caused unwanted sweat to bead on your skin and your lungs to speed up in attempt to cool yourself down. It was night-time so you knew most of the staff would be asleep or busy doing their own chores. You gripped onto the sheets of your bed and squeezed your eyes shut as a wave of nausea flushed through you and made you feel on the verge of throwing up. You gritted your teeth and stood up, involuntarily bending and gripping at your stomach as the unbearable sense of sickness stabbed at your gut. You whimpered, a sob falling from your lips as your knees buckled, your body hitting the floor with a dull thud. Externally you felt numb, the tips of your fingertips having no feeling and your body crashing to the floor didn’t bother you. Internally though you felt like you were going to die a slow death. You tried to steady you breathing, but you couldn’t, nothing but choked sobs falling from your lips as you gently blacked out.

---

The sun shining on the white snow was causing Jeno to squint as he drank his morning tea. His mother was accompanying him during breakfast, and they sat peacefully inside of her personal dining room. The floor to ceiling length windows allowing the hot sun to hit his skin and leave behind a warm feeling. It was a rare day of no clouds or falling snow, which always had Jeno waking up in a good mood.

“Jeno, my dear…” The Queen sipped at her tea and delicately dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “You should be having breakfast with (Y/N), not with me.” She gave him a soft smile and let out a laugh when he sighed, immediately popping food into his mouth with his fork in an attempt to delay his response. “She is a lovely girl, and I know you don’t want to marry her. But avoiding her isn’t going to do either of you any good in the long run.” Jeno chewed his food slowly and gulped it down, sighing once more before nodding.

“I know mother.”

“Is that all you have to say?” She tilted her head, furrowing her eyebrows and rolling her eyes.

“No, I-” He was interrupted by the doors to the room flying open, Mark stood in the doorway, out of breath from where he had been running.

“Your Majesty, your Highness, you have to come quickly!” He gulped watching as the mother and son both stared at him in confusion. The Queen slowly rose from her seat but Jeno stayed where he was sat.

“What is it Mark?” She asked, approaching him quickly.

“It’s Princess (Y/N), we found her on the floor of her room about ten minutes ago. She was breathing but she was unresponsive. The Doctor is looking at her now.” Mark spoke so quickly that Jeno almost couldn’t understand what he was saying. He widened his eyes and stood up quickly. He then paused, and slowly sat back down in his chair. He coughed awkwardly and bowed his head once to Mark.

“Make sure she gets the best care. Keep me updated.” His voice held no emotion, and Mark knew that the Prince wasn’t going to be following him anytime soon. The Queen frowned at her son, but instead of chastising him, she quickly followed Mark.

Jeno sat at the dining table and pushed his plate away from him. He felt sick with worry that something bad was going to happen to you, but he couldn’t bring himself to face you. He was still holding guilt from the stunt he had pulled with you but didn’t want it to seem like he cared too much about you. He let out a sigh and rubbed his hands over his face in frustration, unsure of what to do.

---

The anticipation had killed Jeno over the day that he avoided everyone in hopes of not having any updates about you. Every time he heard footsteps approaching his bedroom, he made himself busy and refused to let anybody in, acting as if his work was more important than you. He hadn’t had a chance to take a step back and gather up all of his thoughts and feelings towards you. He was conflicted. On one hand, you were probably one of the most beautiful humans he had ever laid eyes on, and you had a very sweet personality to go with your sweet looks. But on the other hand, he did not want to get married yet, he also didn’t know you that well and because of his stubborn nature, he didn’t want to get to know you purely out of spite at his forced marriage.

The next morning, Jeno went about his day as normal, eating breakfast and then making his way to the palace courtyard to practice his archery. When he made it to the doors without bumping into anyone of significance, he metaphorically gave himself a pat on the back. Until Mark approached him from behind.

“Your Highness,” Mark spoke up, causing Jeno to jolt in surprise at the sudden chirp of Mark’s voice. Mark had always been silently stealthy and was almost a professional at silently making his way around the palace. “Sorry to interrupt, but you told me to keep you updated on Princess (Y/N).” Jeno turned around and let out an irritated sigh, nodding his head at Mark.

“Go on.” His voice was gruff, and he rolled his eyes. Mark took a deep breath, giving Jeno eyes that were full of pity.

“The Doctor has diagnosed her with the Macetipis Virus…” Jeno felt like a surge of heat rush through him at Mark’s words. His throat created a lump of emotion that made him feel uncomfortable and he had to look away from Mark to keep his cool. “She has all the symptoms, a high temperature, she keeps floating in and out of consciousness, and she keeps throwing up a yellow liquid.”

“I know the symptoms Mark.” He growled, storming off down the hall without giving Mark another look. He made his way to your bedroom, not bothering with knocking as he let himself straight into the room. Nayeon looked up at him with a wide-eyed look as she set down a steaming cup of tea on your bedside table. She immediately bowed and cleared her throat awkwardly. “Out.” Jeno grunted. She complied immediately and left the room without another word. Jeno gulped when he saw you tucked up in your bed, your eyes closed, and head lolled slightly to the side. Tears gathered in his eyes as he looked at you, feeling a horrid guilt at how he’d treated you as he stared at your limp body.

He sat down on your bed, taking one of your cold hands into both of his. He lifted it up to his lips and laid a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, a tear falling down his cheek as in that moment, he absolutely hated himself. You were going to die. He was sure of it. The last person he saw with the Macetipis Virus didn’t last longer than a week before she took her final breath and died peacefully in her sleep. He was sure his sister was going to live, but she didn’t. And at the age of thirteen he watched her slowly wither away before him even though the doctor had told the family that it was possible to overcome the disease. She was only ten years old, and she had her whole life ahead of her. Jeno had always promised her that when he became King that no one would ever harm her, and she could live her life as a beautiful Princess wherever she wanted to be, without having to worry about an arranged marriage. Now he couldn’t fulfil that promise because her little life was cut short, all because of the virus that was unavoidable. It wasn’t contagious, and so far, no one had figured out how people became ill with it. There had been no cases of males having the virus, so it was assumed that only females could contract it. Jeno knew this, that’s why he wasn’t worried about being by your side during this even if it wasn’t supposed to be contagious.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You didn’t deserve how I’ve been treating you…I should have realised that you’re in the same boat as me and you’re going through an unwanted marriage as well.” He gulped, keeping his voice in a low whisper so that no one outside of your room could hear you. “Now you’re probably going to die, and you’ll have died unhappy and I am so sorry Princess.” The lump in his throat started to burn, but he didn’t care. He sat by your side all day, ordering anyone that entered your room to leave. He left around mid-evening to eat some dinner. You hadn’t woken up at all throughout the day, much to Jeno’s dismay. He wanted nothing more than for you to open your eyes so he could voice to you how sorry he was with you actually being able to hear him.

---

“What the fuck do you mean the wedding is being pushed back?” Jeno growled in a low tone, his teeth gritted, and his fists clenched. He had a surge of anger flush through him and he could feel his hands start to shake in aggression.

“Well Your Highness, Princess (Y/N) is very s-”

“I know that she’s sick.” He snapped; the poor servant stood opposite him flinching in fear. “Who made this decision? Tell me!”

“T-the King and Queen.” The servant gulped but visibly relaxed when Jeno stormed off down the hall, making his way to the throne room where he knew his mother and father were. He wasn’t subtle as he burst through the wooden doors to the throne room, completely ignoring the small crowd of people and storming up the royal red carpet to his parents who were both sat on their respected thrones.

“You pushed back our wedding?!” He shouted, his legs moving fast in his haste. He stopped in front of his parents, a scowl marred on his face and his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. “She’s going to fucking die any day now and you want her to die an unmarried woman?!” Jeno’s voice got louder, his anger evident to the people who brought him into the world. Everyone in the room was dead silent as they listened to the distressed Prince. The King frowned at him, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Jeno calm down.” His father spoke with a stern voice, sitting up straighter on his golden throne and looking down his nose at his son.

“NO!” Jeno stepped closer, running a hand through his thick blond hair in frustration. “You know how frowned up it is to die an unmarried woman, and you want that to happen to her?!” He gulped, tears filling his eyes as he flicked his eyes over to his mother. “Mother…she doesn’t deserve this…” He knew the Queen would be the one to pity him and end up giving him what he wanted, like she had most of his life. “Please.”

“Jeno, she can hardly hold her own head up. She can’t marry someone in the state that she’s in.” Her voice was soft, and she gave him a look that shows how much pity she felt for him.

“It’s been three days and they’ve told me that the keeps waking up, she can do it!”

“No.” The King spoke again, shutting Jeno off and causing the young Prince to let his emotions get the best of him. His face crinkled up as he started to sob. He felt embarrassed at his crying so he covered his face with his hands. The King rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. “Don’t even try to turn the water works on, your mother isn’t going to give in.” They were both used to Jeno turning on his emotions to make his mother give him what he wanted, and the King assumed that what he was doing this time. This made Jeno angry again, ripping his hands away from his face and staring at his father once more.

“Go to hell.” He turned around and ran out of the room, not bothering to look back as his mother called for him. He ran until he reached his own room, knowing he needed to gather his thoughts and calm himself down before he visited you for the day.

He left it an hour before he collected a small bunch of bright yellow flowers from the palaces inside garden, letting himself into your room and coming to a dead stop when he saw your eyes staring back at him. This was the first time he’d been around to witness your consciousness, only having heard about it from Nayeon.

“Jeno?” Your voice was raspy and barely audible from where you laid in your bed. Jeno gulped, approaching you slowly with a slight hesitance in his heart. He felt like your eyes were piercing through him, making his insides tighten and his throat close up.

“How are you feeling?” He asked the first thing that came to his mind as he gently set the bunch of flowers into an empty vase on your bedside table.

“Bad.” You whispered out, unsure of how to communicate with the man who had only ever shown hostility towards you. If you didn’t have the horrible sense of nausea swimming inside of your stomach, you probably would have felt butterflies of anxiety take flight. He timidly sat on the edge of your bed, awkwardly grasping his own hands before letting out a sigh.

“I want to apologise to you for how I treated you.” You watched him from where you laid, your eyes nervously darting around the room when he stared you dead in the eye. “You’re a Princess, and you didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my immaturity.” He reached out and took your hand in his own, lifting it to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss to your cold skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“Jeno.” You used all the strength you had to try and sit up, but you couldn’t quite muster it. Jeno let go of your hand when he saw that you wanted to be more upright, placing his hands underneath you to lift you up against the pillows. He grabbed the cup of tea that was still lukewarm to the touch and raised it to your lips. You sipped the tea and cleared your throat, feeling a sort of relief at the liquid at it slid down your throat. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” You spoke in a soft manor, shocked at the sight of the hard-headed Prince being apologetic to you. You’d never seen this warm-hearted side of the Prince, and you wanted to cry your heart out at how sweet he was being.

“They pushed our wedding back…but I promise you, when you recover, we will have the biggest wedding in all of history.” His encouraging smile made you let out a whimper of a giggle, your throat still feeling groggy and not allowing you to make all the noises you wanted to. “And I will be the best husband I can be. But until then, you need to get better, so that I can take you on some dates.” He chuckled, ignoring the tears that came to his eyes as he had it in his mind that you weren’t going to survive.

“Tell me about the dates.” You closed your eyes when a burning sensation ran down your oesophagus, causing you to wince as a rush of nausea hit you in the gut once more.

“Okay well I don’t know if you’ve been to the inside gardens yet, but I want to have afternoon tea there with you. It’s beautiful, there’s an array of so many colours and smells, and it’s so quiet in there. The walls are made entirely of glass, so it gets rather hot when the sun hits it, but the white of the snow outside is such a contrast to the colours inside that it-” He paused as you started to cough, your chest jolting as the uncontrollable coughs left your mouth. Jeno immediately jumped to his feet, pulling you forward so you were sat completely upright. He patted your back firmly, then rubbed his hand in circles on your back. “It’s okay, cough it up.” He grabbed the nearby bowl that had been set aside for when you needed to throw up, holding it in front of your mouth as he patted your back with his other hand. You felt embarrassed as you coughed, eventually puking into the bowl and letting out a whimper from the mortification you felt at throwing up in front of your fiancé. “Good girl, it’s okay.” He put the bowl down, grabbing a handkerchief from your drawer and wiping your mouth with it. He gently kissed your forehead without thinking about it, laying you down again and stroking your hair gently.

“Thank you.” You whispered out, your cheeks burning and the sick feeling sitting heavy on your stomach still.

“My sister was ill with the same illness you have.” He looked down at the floor, a heavy sinking feeling washing over him as he thought back to watching his sister die. You didn’t even know that Jeno had a sister, and you were intrigued to find out more. No one had ever told you about the Princess of the Northern Kingdom, so you had no idea she even existed. You wanted to ask him about her, but you didn’t know if he would respond to you with hostility, and you also found it hard to speak after the onslaught of pain you felt in your throat from throwing up. Jeno continued speaking without having to be prompted, feeling a slight weight lifted off of his shoulders at finally talking about his sister after being silent about it for so many years. “I spent all day every day by her side, I wouldn’t even let the maids help her, it had to be me. I was her older brother and I felt the need to protect her.” He cleared his throat as a lump arose inside of it, all his emotions pilling up and making tears well up in his beautiful eyes. “She died 4 days after being diagnosed.” You reached out and took his hand in your own, giving it a weak squeeze just to show him that you were listening, and you felt empathy towards him. “I won’t let that happen to you.” His eyes bore into your own, and you could see how broken the Prince was, all of his bad attitude making sense, but not excusing it.

He sat by your side all evening, talking to you for about ten more minutes before you drifted back into unconsciousness, but he still stayed by you. He asked Mark to fetch him a book so that he could keep himself entertained whilst keeping watch over you. At around 7 o’clock the door to the room opened slowly. Jeno looked up and smiled softly when he saw his Mother entering the room. She looked slightly surprised to see him sat there, her eyebrows raising on her beautiful face.

“Jeno I didn’t know you were here.” She closed the door with a gentle push, not wanting to make too much noise as she saw that you were sleeping.

“You shouldn’t be here; you could catch it mother!” His eyes widened with worry, not wanting his own mother to catch the disease that took his sisters life. He knew it wasn’t contagious but he couldn’t risk it.

“Jeno I will be fine; I’m only stopping by for a few minutes.” She smiled softly to him, giving him a small bout of reassurance. “You’re a good man Jeno, you being here for her when she’s in this condition is a good thing for you to do.”

“I don’t want her to wake up alone,” He closed his book and set it aside, moving to stroke your lifeless hand that laid on the bed. “I owe her so much; she can’t die alone.”

“Oh sweetheart.” The Queen sighed, approaching her son and leaning down to place a kiss on his head. She felt a sudden rush of pride at his confession, glad he was finally acting like the fiancé that you deserved. She was finally seeing the young man that she’d raised to be a compassionate, loving Prince. “I’m glad you’ve finally come around to marrying her…may I ask what changed your mind?”

Jeno thought for a moment, before taking a deep breath and letting out a long sigh. “Miyah never got to have her happy ever after and seeing (Y/N) like this broke my heart. I want her to have her happy ending.”

“You know you have to apologise to your father. The way y-” She was cut off as you started to cough in your sleep, your eyes suddenly blinking open as you couldn’t cough up what was stuck in your throat. Jeno jumped up from his spot and lifted you up so you were sitting upright, patting your back hard to stop you from choking. The Queen watched with wide eyes as you coughed up blood, it staining the sheets over you and dripping down your chin. Jeno gasps loudly, frowning in confusion at the sight of the blood. He rubbed your back as you started to sob from seeing the blood, his stomach dropping as he looked over at his mother. “Miyah never coughed up blood! It isn’t one of the symptoms, she may not have Macetipis!” He propped up the pillows against the headboard and laid you against them, not sparing any moment before sprinting out of the door towards the palace’s doctor’s room.

You looked at the Queen and whimpered, fear rushing through you and your stomach twisting in anxiety. “I don’t want to die!” Your voice was hoarse, and you shuddered before spewing more blood onto the sheets. The Queen stroked your head as your breathing picked up, your chest rising and falling fast in your panic. She opened her mouth, but you couldn’t hear anything she was saying, everything sounding muffled and cloudy as your vision blurred. The world went dark as your eyes closed, your consciousness slipping away once more.

---

The sound of birds singing is the only sound you heard when your body brought itself out of the slumber of sleep that you’d been in more than 24 hours. The last thing you remembered was the sight of your sheets being spoiled by the sight of your own blood, but as you stared down at the sheets placed delicately over your body, you saw nothing but pristine white. You laid there for what felt like ages, feeling thirsty but not having the energy to reach for your glass of water that you could see sitting on your nightstand looking appetizing and delicious. You felt better than you had felt since you’d come down with your sickness, and you prayed that you didn’t get any worse. Jeno entered the room half an hour later, surprise written across his face when he saw you staring back at him.

“You’re awake!” He rushed to your side and took your hand straight into his. He had a soft smile playing on his lips, but you could tell he was being suspicious about something. “How are you feeling?” You cleared your throat as he helped you sit up, propping your thick pillows up behind you to keep you steady.

“Better.” He passed you the glass of water when he heard how croaky your voice was, it sounding like you had a thousand swords lodged inside of your throat.

“I have something to tell you, and I don’t want you to panic. Just know before I tell you this, that everything has been sorted out, and you will be getting better okay?” His fingers traced soft circles on your skin that left a tickling sensation in their wake. You nodded, not wanting to use your voice if you didn’t have to as your throat felt stiff. “You didn’t have Macetipis, after you started coughing up blood, I knew something wasn’t right. I got the doctor, and he knew immediately that you’d been poisoned.” Your stomach flipped and you felt queasy at the thought of someone trying to kill you. “It didn’t make sense at first, no one from the outside had access to your room. So I knew it must have been someone who had been coming into your room. I’ve been here most of the time, and the only people who were allowed in this room were my mother, my father, Mark, the doctor, Nayeon, and myself. The doctor tried his best to save you, so it wouldn’t make sense that he was trying to kill you. My mother, father, and I would never do such a thing. If we wanted you dead, you’d be dead.” His words made your eyes widen in surprise that he’d say something that dramatic in such a calm manner. “I trust Mark with my life, and when questioned he said he knew nothing about it, and I could tell he wasn’t lying to me. Which left dear, sweet, Nayeon.” He growled her name, his fists clenching around your hand but not hard enough to hurt you. “When questioned, she confessed almost immediately. She’d been putting poison in the tea she’d been serving you.” Your heart dropped as you thought of the sweet maid who’d made you feel welcomed. You had no idea she could even do something like that. “The poison was a weak one that would take at least two weeks to finish you off. It was meant to give you a slow, painful death. But you have to take all doses of it for it to work. She said she’d gotten if when she was visiting her family. She blames you for her father’s death in the war.” Your heart ached as Jeno told you that. You had trusted Nayeon, and you felt tears fill your eyes as you thought it all over inside of your head.

“What’s her punishment?” You closed your eyes, willing the tears not to fall as your throat hurt even more with the rising lump inside of it.

“Death.” He sneered, his body tense with hatred and anger. He couldn’t believe that someone had the nerve to try and take his Princess away from him, right underneath his nose too. You gasped, your eyes opening quickly.

“No! Please don’t kill her Jeno!” Your tone was desperate, and Jeno knitted his eyebrow together in confusion at your plea.

“She tried to kill you (Y/N)!”

“You shot an arrow at my head.” You deadpanned at him, showing him you weren’t afraid to speak against him if you had to. His face immediately fell, and his mouth opened and closed as he tried to conjure the right words to say.

“I didn’t ever intend on hurting you though…” His voice was soft, and he glanced down at his hands.

“You could have. Prince Jeno, please…spare her life.”

“No. The punishment stands, and I don’t want to hear you ask for me to change it again. Am I clear?” You shuddered at his dominant tone, immediately losing all the courage you previously had to speak against him and just simply nodded. He sighed and momentarily closed his eyes. “They’ve set a date for out wedding. It’s a month away.” You didn’t reply to him, sipping your water slowly and keeping your eyes anywhere but on him. “Princess…don’t ignore me.” You looked at him and gave him a blank stare, only giving him the silent treatment to show him that you were displeased with his choice. He frowned at you and took the glass of water out of your hands. “When you’re better, we are going to spend a lot of time together, because I am determined to make this work between us. So you’ll have to talk to me eventually.” When you didn’t reply to him, he started to get frustrated, not used to people pulling this kind of thing with him. “Fine.” He stood up and before you could say anything, he’d stormed out of the room so he could throw his tantrum without you seeing.

You let out a sigh and snuggled back down into your bed, feeling a wave of fatigue hit you as you got comfortable. You flinched when the door flung back open and Jeno was stood in the doorway with a scowl on his face.

“You win! She’ll have her life spared. But you are forbidden to speak with her, and she will be sent to live in the Western Kingdom as a slave. Happy?” The smile that you gave him after hearing his defeat made his heart flutter, and he knew in that moment that if all if took for you to smile like that at him was him giving you your own way, then he’d have to start getting used to not having things go his way.

---

It had been two weeks since Nayeon’s confession. You were up and about on your feet and finally enjoying your time in the Northern Kingdom now that you had a fiancé who cared for you. It made you slightly sad that you had to be on deaths doorstep for him to come to his senses and make an effort with you, but since spending most of your days with the Prince, you were overjoyed that he’d changed his mind about you. Your first official date with Prince Jeno was a simple walk around the castle the day after you’d found out about Nayeon poisoning you. You were still rather tired, and Jeno didn’t want to tire you out completely, so he took you on a slow walk around the castle and told you all the stories he had about growing up in the castle. He held your hand tightly, keeping you close to him and enjoying every second he spent with you, just talking about sharing stories. It wasn’t an extravagant date, but it meant the world to you, and your opinion on the cold-hearted, hot head-headed Prince had completely changed. He’d taken time everyday to see you, whether it was to take you out and about on walks, or just to have breakfast, lunch, or dinner with you. Which you really appreciated, considering how busy the Prince was with his duties as the heir to the throne. He had told you that your parents had been exchanging letters with his own parents, but they had decided not to visit you during your illness, instead hoping to see you next on your wedding day. It hurt you that they couldn’t be bothered to make the trip to see you, but you pinned it down to it being such a long journey and you knew just how hard it was to sleep in a horse drawn carriage for the two day long journey.

The flickering candlelight sent shadows dancing on the spines of the thousands of books that lined the walls. Books that told stories, real and fiction, of wars, love, and of creatures of the night you knew didn’t exist. The library felt warm, the large fireplace lit with simmering flames to keep the Prince and his Princess warm in the late hours of the night. You watched Jeno’s lips as he read from the book opened in front of him, his eyes darting back and forth as they trailed across the words written on the paper. Your cheek was resting against the palm of your hand with your elbow keeping it steady on the table, and you couldn’t help the small smile on your lips as your listened to Jeno read about a Prince and a Princess falling in love. It was him who picked the book off of the shelf, and to be honest you had zoned out when he was reading some parts of the story, your brain focusing on his beautiful face more than the poetic words that tumbled from his mouth.

“He grasped her hands in his own, the softness of her fingertips causing riptides in the ocean of love he held deep within his soul, riptides he was ready to dive headfirst into, wanting nothing more than to drown from the assault of her love. The moonlight hit her rosy cheeks, if he wasn’t already blinded from her beauty then that would have ended his eyesight in that moment. Her lips were inviting, like a poison apple begging him to take a bite, but he knew in his heart that the poison she was offering with her plush, angel like lips, was one that would do him more good than bad.” He suddenly closed the book, glancing up at you with slightly reddened cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows, moving your hand from your cheek to rest it on the table.

“I was enjoying that…” You pouted at him, wanting to know what happened next with the Prince and Princess. “What happens next?”

“Come with me.” He stood up abruptly, hoping that you couldn’t see how his hands were shaking as he snatched your hand into his own.

“Where are we going?” He started to walk so fast that you had to use your free hand to raise your flowing dress up off of the floor before you tripped over the loose material. He failed to respond to you as he steered the both of you through the dimly lit palace. He took you down three flights of stairs until you were on the ground floor, and he didn’t stop until he was stood outside of an arched wooden door. He pushed open the door and held it open for you to enter, smiling sweetly at you wondered past him. The first thing you noticed was the smell. The fresh, crisp smell of flowers and dirt was a welcoming smell, and one that you loved because it reminded you of the springtime in the Southern Kingdom. You couldn’t see much because of the looming darkness, but the full, bright moon shone through the glass ceiling and walls, lighting all the beautiful flowers giving them all a dim colour. You just knew that in the bright sunlight this place would be absolutely stunning.

Jeno gently guided you through the gap between the large flowers and leaves, following the trail that was purposely left and bringing you to an opening where a small table and two chairs resided. You then noticed a small indoor pond off to the side, surrounded by an array of different coloured roses. He pulled you into the clearing, the moonlight beating down on your both and causing shadows to fall on Jeno’s perfectly sculpted face. Your breath hitched in your throat when his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your hot cheek and his other hand lacing your fingers together. He smiled softly at you, his eyes memorizing every detail on your face that the moon bestowed upon him.

“You wanted to know what happened next in the story.” He whispered, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip causing your heart to almost skip a beat in anticipation. “I’ll show you.” He gulped as he leaned in, both of your eyes drawing to a close as his cool lips settled timidly on top of yours. You breathed in sharply through your nose, shock sinking into your nervous system as you realised that you were finally kissing your future. Of course you’d felt his lips on your forehead before, but that felt like nothing compared to the feeling of his lips slotted between yours. He drew away, his lips lingering on your own as his thumb started to sweep across your cheek again. You felt your lips automatically pulling into a shy smile, your eyes blinking open with the surprise of seeing his piercing brown eyes gazing at your face. “This is our story…”

---

The wedding came and went faster than you’d wanted it to. The build up to the wedding only days before had felt like they’d dragged. Your wedding dress fitting, seeing how the grand hall was decorated with the most beautiful and expensive décor that the staff of the palace could find, and finally seeing it all come to be. Your parent’s arrival the day before the wedding had you in floods of tears just from how overwhelmed you felt. You had been on deaths door just a month ago, and there you were, watching your parent’s carriage be pulled by horses with fur as black as night into the grounds of the castle the day before your marriage. Jeno had very busy, so you’d only seen him in passing in which he had looked slightly stressed and had barely given you a rushed kiss on your lips. He had to go to the town hall and give a speech in front of the civilians of the Kingdom about his marriage to you and what it meant for the Kingdoms future. You’d been there at his side, dressed up beautiful in his Kingdom’s colours and looking regal and stunning in the glowing sunshine. The snow had melted away, giving you a view of the Kingdom in a different light, but you knew that it would probably be back soon as the weather in the Northern kingdom was unpredictable.

On the day of your wedding you’d been whisked out of bed, hurried through your breakfast, and immediately taken to be dressed. Your hair had been pinned up and had beautiful white snowbell flowers woven into it. Your face had been subjected to a light dusting of makeup to accentuate your naturally stunning features. You felt like a Princess. You also felt sick with nerves, the familiar feeling of anxiety swimming around like a shark inside of your stomach. But you couldn’t let yourself be taken over by the panic, especially as you stared in the full-length mirror at yourself. Your wedding dress had long sleeves, the entirety of the dress having a layer of snow-white lace over the top of it. The body of the dress coming up over your chest and covering the corset you’d been stuffed into, the tightness of it making your anxiety worse as it felt like a constricting snake wrapping itself around your body. The skirt was a typical Princess skirt that would drag across the floor as your walked despite the beautiful white and gold heels you wore. Your lace veil was so long that it dragged along behind you as you walked. On top of your head you wore a heavy, solid gold crown that was fit perfectly for a Princess.

Once you’d arrived at the Kingdom’s church in your beautiful white carriage pulled by white horses, you waved timidly at the crowd of hundreds of civilians waiting outside the church to give you their well wishes. You noted that Jeno wore a similar crown to your own that sat on top his white blond hair when you finally got to see him as your father, the King of the Southern Kingdom, walked you down the aisle. Seeing Jeno stood at the end of the long aisle made your heart flutter. All of the past worries you had washing away like the melted snow as he stood in his white and gold royal uniform, the same one he’d been wearing on the day you’d arrived at the castle. You’d forgotten about how he’d treated you upon your arrival, but you didn’t care as you took a deep breath, your feet carrying you slowly walked down the aisle. Jeno knew he wasn’t supposed to turn around and look at you, but he couldn’t help himself. He turned around and felt his breath hitch in his throat, tears pooling in his eyes when he was how stunning you looked. After you fell ill, he never thought he’d get to see the sight of you looking like an ethereal angel as you walked down the aisle to marry him. So the sight overjoyed him, his heart bursting with the love he’d found within himself for you. He hated himself for how he treated you, especially now that he knew he was head over heels in love with you.

The ceremony flew by, your hands connected and his lips feeling warm on your own after you’d exchanged vows and rings. The gold ring felt heavy on your finger, but not from the physical weight of it, more from the emotional meaning it had. You were tied to Jeno for life now, and it had your heart beating in joy. You caught sight of Prince Jaemin wearing his own royal uniform in the front line of the crowd, his smile so wide that you couldn’t help but smile just as wide as him. Jeno bit his bottom lip, contemplating his next move, but in his head, he thought ‘fuck it’, and he swept you up into his arms. You squealed in surprise and held onto your husband tightly, the bouquet of red roses in your hand falling to the floor from your shock. Carrying you bridal style out of the church made Jeno feel a sense of pride in himself, and he ignored the heavy feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach about what was to come later. You both climbed into the awaiting carriage, Jeno’s lips finding your cheek as soon as the carriage door closed.

“I love you.” He whispered, lacing his hands with yours and causing you to almost combust on the spot. It was the first time he’d uttered those words to you, and it had your eyes filling with tears of happiness and love.

“I love you too.” You whispered back just as gently as he had. The two of you waved at the people who lined the streets of his Kingdom, your Kingdom. It dawned on you that you were no longer the Princess of the Southern Kingdom, and instead, the Princess and future Queen of the Northern Kingdom.

The wedding ceremony was followed by all the guests of the wedding going to the castle to celebrate with a banquet, soon followed by lots of dancing and mingling. You sat by your husbands side the entire time, greeting your guests with a smile and bow. The two of you held each other close when it was time for the two of you to have your first dance as husband and wife. The entire room going silent apart from the echoing music of the large orchestra as you moved around slowly with him. Soon after everyone else was able to join in, and the room was filled with joy of the festivities.

You were ushered away from Jeno by one of the maids and Mark when it hit 11pm and the guests were starting to dwindle. Your stomach hit the floor as you knew exactly what you were being taken away for. Mark’s voice echoed around your head, but you didn’t take in any of his words as he spoke to you about what was about to happen, despite you already knowing exactly how things were about to go down. You were taken to your new bedroom that you were going to be sharing with your new husband. The décor was beautiful, and it was very similar to the bedroom you’d previously had in the castle. You had a feeling Jeno had requested it to be that way to bring you more comfort. Mark excused himself and left you with two maids. They stripped you down from your wedding gown, leaving you in the white, lace lingerie that you’d been told to wear earlier on in the day. The brassiere came down to an inch above your belly button, the wire in the bra pushing your breasts up and making them look very appealing to the eye. It was paired with a matching pair of panties that did nothing to hide your ass. You wore white, thigh high stockings that were clipped onto the white suspender belt wrapped around your waist. They touched up on your makeup, pulled your hair from the pins to let it fall at your shoulders, tousled from being up all day, and finally left you on your own to await Jeno’s arrival.

It was Kingdom tradition to consummate the marriage on the day of the matrimony in order to create an heir. You were very nervous, especially as you had been dolled up to look sexy, which is something you had never had to be before in your entire life. But you supposed if it pleased your Prince, then it was worth it. You waited for Jeno, nervously pacing around the room in your heels before ultimately deciding that you felt uncomfortable and slipped them off, padding around the room in your stockings instead. You bit at your red painted bottom lip, deciding to sit on the bed to wait for your husband. You sat in the centre of the large bed, the silk bedding feeling like clouds on your bare skin as you leaned on one arm. The doorknob turning had your stomach erupting in the butterflies that had chilled out momentarily. Jeno entered the room and quickly closed the door behind him, leaving his hand on the doorknob as he looked at you with a shocked expression. He wasn’t expecting to see you like that, and his cheeks went bright red with heat from his sudden embarrassment. He hated that they’d undressed you like that, having would have preferred to undress you himself from your beautiful wedding dress. You watched him with shy eyes, wanting to cover yourself up from how he was just stood by the door, dead still, with his eyes on you. Eventually his eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. You looked like the epitome of innocence and grace, and he hated it. He hated that he was expected to ruin you in that way by taking your innocence.

“I can’t do this.” He spoke lowly, your stomach falling through the floor at his words. “No I can’t do this.” He shook his head, his eyes moving around the room to look at everything apart from you.

“What do you mean?” Your voice was soft and fragile, mirroring how you felt in that moment.

“This was a mistake!” He shouted at you, his face looking hard, his eyebrows scrunched up and his eyes seemingly darker than what they had been when he entered the room. You flinched, gulping in fright at his sudden outburst. You didn’t think you’d ever seen this Jeno again after how sweetly he’d been treating you since you fell ill. But maybe that was all an act. An act he couldn’t keep up any longer.

“Jeno…” Your eyes filled with tears as you watched him grab the vase of flowers on the dresser beside the door. The vase hit the wall on the other side of the room with a deafening smash, the flowers and shards of porcelain hitting the floor and making you squeal in surprise. He was angry, and he had never learnt how to control his anger. So he did was he always did when he couldn’t cope with his emotions. He acted on them and ended up getting aggressive.

“This was a huge fucking mistake; I don’t love you. How could I love you when I hardly fucking know you? I was forced into this and I can’t do this anymore!” His shouts echoed around the room, causing a sob to fall from your lips at his confession. The vein in his neck was prominent from how hard his shouts were and his strong jaw was tensed. His eyes held so mush hostility you wanted to cower away. “It would have been better if Nayeon had succeeded. Then neither of us would be here.” With that final blow to you, he pulled the door open and stormed out of the room, slamming it shut behind him with a loud thud that felt like it set a crack in your heart. He’d just told you that it would be better if you were dead. And it hurt. Nothing had ever hurt you more in your life than those words he’d just thrown at you on what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. You sobbed harder than you ever had before, your throat burning and face wet from the tears that tracked down your cheeks. Eventually after you’d calmed down some maids entered the room to clean up and comfort you. But you just ignored their presence, feeling numb and staring at the broken vase across the room. Picturing your heart to be just as shattered as the vase.

---

You hadn’t seen your new husband since he’d ran out on you. It had been five days, but it felt like five months. You felt a longing in your heart, which surprised you because your heart felt so broken and your mind felt so numb. Every member of the palaces staff was either avoiding you, or treating you like you’d break if they spoke in any other way that didn’t sound patronizing. So it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together and figure out that the word had spread about your husband running out on you on your wedding night. Humiliation was a good way of describing how you felt, on top of the sadness and longing, it sat at the edge of your heart, ready to dive off into the pit of your stomach and bring back the butterflies that felt like daggers hitting the walls of your gut. You’d asked Mark where Jeno was, but he just told you that he couldn’t tell you as he was instructed not to. He seemed deeply apologetic though, and you couldn’t blame him for staying loyal to the family he worked for.

The last thing you wanted to do was meet with Prince Jaemin for lunch. But you found yourself being forced to because apparently he wouldn’t take no for an answer and he was prepared to go to extreme lengths to get you smiling again. You soon found out what those extreme lengths were when he let himself into your bedroom with a few maids in tow. The maids were each pushing a metal cart that had steaming hot plates of food you wished you had the appetite to want. Jaemin gave you somewhat of a sad smile, going to the table and chairs inside of your bedroom and pulling a chair out.

“Take a seat Princess.” He nodded down to the chair in his grasp, waiting for you to move from your seat on the bed. You let out a soft sigh, standing up and taking a seat at the table. Jaemin sat opposite you and cleared his throat. “This is probably a silly question, but how are you feeling?” You wanted to laugh at his question, giving him a strained smile as you picked up the mug of hot tea placed in front of you.

“I’ve felt better…have you seen him?” You sipped at the liquid slowly, keeping your eyes on the dark head Prince of the Western Kingdom as he started to pick at his food. He nodded, giving you another sad smile.

“I have. He’s…” He sighed as he thought about what to say, his eyes narrowing as his brain ticked over his words. “Jeno. He’s just Jeno.” The maids left the room as Jaemin dismissed them with a curt wave of his hand.

“He told me he loved me, then hours later he told me that he never loved me… He also said it would be better if I was dead.” You looked down at your fingertips that were clasping the handle on the mug tightly, trying to will the tears that flooded your eyes away.

“He’s stupid.” Jaemin’s words caused Jeno’s ears to prick up as he stood outside of the door, listening in on your conversation as they door had been left open by the maids when they left. He gripped the bouquet of roses in his hands tighter and his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re such a beautiful woman, and he doesn’t deserve you. You’re kind, he’s not.” You glanced up at Jaemin, feeling like a knife had been twisted in your gut as you listened to Jaemin’s heavy words. “I can only regret that Jeno’s parents beat my own to asking your parents for your hand in marriage.” He let out a sigh, continuing to eat as if he hadn’t just told you that he wished he was your husband and not his own cousin. Jeno felt his blood boiling, and he wanted nothing more than to hit his cousin around the head with the flowers in his grip. But instead he let out a sigh and stomped off, pushing back his plans to apologise to you as he didn’t want Jaemin to hear what he had to say to you.

“Prince Jaemin…I’m a married woman, you shouldn’t be speaking to me like that.” You wanted to sound assertive, but instead your voice was shaky and showed how nervous the conversation was making you.

“I do apologise, I didn’t mean to make you think about what could have been.” He gave you a slanted smile, clearing his throat awkwardly. “You need to eat, you look awful.” This had you letting out a curt laugh, your eyebrows raised as you looked at the cheeky Prince.

“That’s no way to speak to a Princess!”

“I’m just telling you the truth! Please, eat.” Jaemin pushed the bowl of soup in the middle of the table towards you, holding a spoon out for you to take. You let out a gentle sigh and took the spoon, sipping at the warm soup in hopes it shut Jaemin up.

---

Jeno had spent the rest of the day boiling over what he’d heard Jaemin say to you. He paced around his room and had made a complete mess of his normally neat hair from tugging at it in frustration. The sun had long gone down and he groaned as he laid on his bed staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. He had yet to prepare for sleep, still wearing the loose white shirt tucked into his tight dress trousers. His mind wondered to thoughts of you. He heart was breaking just as much as yours was. He hated himself for the things he’d said to you, and the reasons why he said them to you. The Prince could no longer bare it and came to the decision to put an end to his distress.

He pushed himself up from the bed and didn’t think much of it as he left his room. He let his legs carry him across the castle to where you had been staying in what was supposed to be your shared bedroom. Without even thinking to do the polite thing by knocking on the door, he swung open the bedroom door, his words caught in his throat as he saw you sat by the large window, staring out at the moonlit night wearing a silk robe, your bare legs stretched out on the floor in front of you. You turned to see who had just rudely let themselves into your bedroom and your breath hitched at your eyes fell on your husband, stood with his lips parted and his hand still gripping the door handle as he stared at you. He pushed the door closed and took a few steps into the room, not really knowing what he was expecting your reaction to be. But he knew for sure he wasn’t expecting the reaction he got.

You stood up, pulling the robe tighter over your pyjama clad body, the cotton tank top and shorts not doing much to hide your body, but you weren’t expecting anyone to burst into your room unannounced. Without a word you walked up to the blond Prince stood in the middle of the room, his eyes trained on you as you moved. Your palm hitting his cheek let out a slapping sound echo off the walls, his mouth popping open as his head snapped to the side from the surprising strength you had put into the attack. He was shocked, he had no idea the meek, timid, placid Princess who he’d grown to love had it in her to lay her hands on her husband like that. But he found a fire burning inside of his stomach that made him love you more for doing that.

“Are you proud of yourself?” He slowly turned his head to see the fire behind your teary eyes. A fire that looked like it was about to be put out by the water begging to fall from the waterline of your eyes. “You made me think you loved me, and then on our wedding night you told me you wished I was dead. Now I have to be married to someone who doesn’t love me and be in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life!” He looked down at his feet, letting out a short sigh and trying to ignore how pained your voice was. “Get out.” You turned to walk back to the window, wanting to watch the falling snow in the moonlight in hopes it would calm down your racing heart. You were stopped by a strong grip on your wrist that pulled you against a firm chest, your free hand coming up to land against it in your surprise. The hand on your wrist loosened and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your body, keeping you pressed to Jeno’s torso. The feel of his grip and his familiar scent is everything you’d been dreaming about for the five days that you’d been apart from him. It was almost overwhelming being so close to him, the tears finally breaking past their barrier and streaming down your face as your heart felt like it was slowly mending itself. He pulled his arms away from your waist and moved them to cup your face in both of his hands. Tilting your head up so that your gazes were locked, he poked his tongue out to wet his lips as he took a deep breath.

“I love you so much that it physically pains me to watch the tears as they fall from your bewitching eyes. Being away from you for the past five days knowing how my words would have affected you made me want to throw myself from the tallest tower to my own demise because I knew how hard it would be to coax you into trusting me again. After the wedding, my father took me aside and reminded me of my duty as a Prince, and that I was expected to produce an heir. So that was swimming around in my head like a poison fusing with water and turning all my thoughts damaging. When I opened the door to see you poised like an angel with no wings, I felt like I was doing the world a disservice by tainting your innocence and I don’t know where my mind took me but it was an unpleasant place that left a bitter taste in my mouth and a tear in your heart.” Your eyes glistened with tears as Jeno never once glanced away during the poetic words he spilled to you. He sounded like the Prince in the book that he was reading to you in the library on the night of your first kiss. “I would never wish you dead, nor would I want to ever live in a world that you didn’t exist in. I love you, and I can spend the rest of my life telling you so and apologising if I have to. If it means that you will love me the way you did before I let my mouth talk without my hearts consent. Forgive me Princess.” He stared into your eyes, his own swimming with sincerity leading you to know that he meant the words he spoke.

“I forgive you.” You whispered, letting out a soft sigh as you gazed as his facial features, falling more in love with him as your mind went over his speech.

“Thank you, from this moment on, I will be the husband that you deserve.” He leaned in and placed his lips to your own, the kiss being soft and long as his arms moved from your cheeks to your hips. You moved one of your hands to his jaw and the other to his shoulder, feeling lost in the kiss as he slowly moved his lips against yours. This was everything you’d been dreaming about since your wedding night, and you couldn’t describe the joy and relief you felt at finally having your husband by your side. He licked at your bottom lip, pushing his tongue past your lips when you gave him entrance and letting it explore your mouth as he slowly backed you up to your now shared bed. You’d finally get to share the too big bed with the man you love instead of sleeping alone. That thought alone send sparks across your body that gave you a tingling warm feeling you’d never experienced before.

He moved his lips to your jaw, placing tender kisses to your warm skin before trailing them down your neck. He sucked gentle bruises on your neck as quiet mewls and gasps left your parted lips. His hands tugged at the silk tie of your robe and let the silk slide open. He pushed it from your body and let it fall to the floor, leaving you scantily clad in your pyjamas. His hands scaled up and down your sides as his fingertips got used to the feeling of your body, the silk bunching up as he let his hands wonder underneath your pyjama top. Pulling away from your neck, he gently lifted you onto the bed, crawling over the top of you and diving back in to kiss your lips with vigour. His hands framed your head, holding his body up as his tongue trailed your bottom lip. His body rested against yours, slotted between your legs with his crotch pressed to your own.

You knew the basics of sex. You’d been taught by a very red-faced Mark a few days before your wedding and he’d assured you that Jeno had also received the same embarrassing talk. But you still felt a bundle of nerves wind itself up inside of your stomach and the thought of having the Prince on top of you without any clothes on. But at the same time, you felt a spark of excitement travel to your core that you’d only ever felt before when you’d gotten curious and let your fingers wonder. All the orgasms you’d had were self-inflicted by the use of rubbing your clit late in the night when there was no one around to hear your quiet whimpers. So the feel of Jeno hardening against you through his clothes and your thin pyjamas was causing that familiar feeling to build, spurring you on to want more.

You turned your head and let his lips kiss at your cheek leaving faint marks of spit against your warm skin as his tongue darted out to taste you. Your chest was rising and falling fast as you tried to catch your breath, Jeno’s lips never stopped as you opened your mouth and spoke. “Have you ever…?” You felt your cheeks flare up as you blurted out the question, unable to finish it and hoping he would catch your drift. He paused and his silence piqued your curiosity, so you turned your head to look up at him. His mouth was parted, and his eyebrows were furrowed, almost as if he was annoyed at your question, and you could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

“No of course I’ve never had sex…have you?” His eyes widened slightly, and he pulled back slightly. You had a feeling if your answer was yes then he was going to cause a scene that would wake up everyone in the castle. It was expected of a Prince or Princess to stay a virgin until their marriage to another Prince or Princess. So you would feel the same way if you found out that Jeno wasn’t a virgin, and you could understand why he had pulled such an annoyed face now you knew he thought you were asking about having sex.

“No! Oh no I didn’t mean, er…I didn’t mean that. I meant have you ever…touched yourself?” Your cheeks were boiling as your embarrassment set in, your voice almost a whisper as you asked him. Jeno visibly relaxed and a small smirk arose on his face.

“Yes, I have. Have you?” He lowered his head and laid gentle kisses to your neck that left a heavy feeling in your stomach. “Have you been a dirty girl and used your fingers to do the job your Prince should be doing?” His voice dropped an octave and your stomach fluttered as his lewd words, your hips bucking up into his as you wished for him to copy what you did late into the night. “Do you want me to do the same to you?” His fingertips trailed down your side, sending shivers up your spine and a small whine to leave your chest.

“Yes.” You whispered breathlessly as he sat back on his knees, staring down at you like a predator staring at its prey. He smirked; his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tugged your pyjama shorts down your legs slowly. You suddenly felt shy, automatically closing your legs to block his view of your heat but he gripped at your knees and forced them apart.

“Be a good girl.” He gazed down at your glistening pussy, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes darkened. He tried to push down his own nerves, wanting you to think he was confident even though you knew he’d never seen a vagina before. He paused, taking a deep breath as he trailed a tentative finger over your folds from your clit to your dripping hole. “Wow…” He breathed out, shuffling back on the bed and laying so that he was at the right angle to lean out and lick at your centre with his slow tongue. You let your head fall back against the pillow as his tongue flicked up and down slowly, circling your clit and forcing a loud moan to erupt from your lips. Your moan provoked him to take your clit between his lips and suck on it softly, his finger trailing down to your waiting entrance. He slid it in very hesitantly, remembering the words Mark said about it being very painful for a woman if they aren’t prepped properly.

“Jeno…” You whined and lifted your head to watch him as he started to devour your pussy, his enthusiasm making you almost see stars as your toes curled and back arched, the ball of pleasure in the pit of stomach flaring up as if it was going to explode at any moment. “Oh!” You squeaked, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from screaming as he brought you to the edge that you’d sat on many times before from your own doing. Only this time it felt a hundred times better. He stopped abruptly, removing his mouth and stopping his finger. As he pulled his face back you noticed his lips and chin glistening with your juices, causing your stomach to do a flip at obscene sight.

“I want you to finish on my cock baby girl.” His words almost shoved you over the edge, but you nodded and gulped down the saliva that had built in your mouth as you watched him. You nodded eagerly and licked your lips, gasping slightly as he pushed another finger inside of you. The slight stretch made you wince at first, but after a minute of him pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly the pain dulled, and you could feel the pleasure pouring through.

He pulled his fingers out and sat up again, popping open the three buttons at the top of his shirt before pulling the loose shirt over his head. You propped yourself up on your elbows, staring at his defined body with hearts in your eyes. His blond hair was fluffy from the friction of pulling his shirt over his head and you wanted nothing more than to tangle your hands in the light strands and trail your tongue down his chest. He threw the shirt to the floor and paused as he took the button of his trousers between his fingers and thumbs. He visibly gulped and looked up at you with hooded eyes. You could see that all his confidence had flown out of the window as he stared at you. You smiled softly, sitting yourself up and pulling your own top off, throwing it to the floor with his and leaving you completely naked in front of him. His eyes went wider than you’d ever seen as his sight dropped from your face to rest on your breasts.

“Shit.” He gulped again, his mouth almost watering at the sight of your chest. It was the first time he’d ever seen a pair of boobs in the flesh from what he could remember, and he wasn’t disappointed. He hurried to pop open the buttons on his trousers and he discarded of them, leaving him completely naked. You didn’t get much of a chance to look at his penis as he hurried to lay over you, taking on of your nipples into his mouth and cupping your other breast with his big hand. You wrapped your legs around his waist and could feel his hard cock brushing against your core, making you want more.

“Jeno, I want you now.” You whispered, his eyes glancing up to look you in the eyes as his tongue swirled around your sensitive bud.

“Hang on.” He mumbled against it, taking it between his lips once again and sucking hard. You giggled softly, reaching up and running a hand through his hair and pushing it away from his forehead.

“You like that don’t you?” You bit at your bottom lip as you watched his lips suckle on your nipple. He closed his eyes and nodded, pulling his lips back and letting your nipple go with a pop.

“Are you ready?” He moved a hand down sitting back slightly and taking his cock in his right hand, pumping it a few times. You finally got to see it, your eyes zoning in on the large member he held tightly in his hand. You’d never seen a man’s privates parts either so you had nothing to compare it to, but it definitely didn’t look small, and had a vein running up the underside, the head a pink colour with a milky bead of pre-cum leaking out from the top.

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, settling your head against the pillow and trying to relax. He smiled softly at you, leaning over you and placing a tender and lingering kiss to your lips as he started to push his cock into you. You gasped, the pain a lot worse than the pain you’d felt from his fingers. Your back arched and tears pooled in your eyes as you tried to cope with the pain, not wanting him to stop as this was the most intimate you’d ever been with anyone, and it being your husband that you loved with all your heart meaning you’d be crushed if he stopped. He went slowly, pulling out a few times only to push in again in an attempt to fit inside of you better. He stopped once he was fully inside of you, laying kisses on your cheek and stroking your side affectionately to calm you down.

“Tell me if it gets too much Princess.” He spoke quietly into your ear, pulling his hips back and rolling them into you again. He was laying over you so that his forearms were pressed to the pillow on either side of your head, wanting to be as close to you as he could be but still so he could control the situation. He repeated this slowly, letting his head drop into the crook of your neck as his eyes squeezed shut from the immense pleasure shooting up his cock into the pit of his stomach at how tightly your walls were sucking him in. It took at least a minute of Jeno pushing his cock in and out of you for you to feel the pleasure that you’d felt when he’d used his fingers. The pain died down and you focused more on how his strong figure loomed over you, his breath panting against your neck and the sound of skin slapping against skin as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” His voice was deep and gruff, but the words held so much meaning to you that you let out a loud moan, gripping at his back, leaving red marks on his skin as your nails dragged across it.

“I love you too.” You whimpered, your back arching and thighs starting to shake as euphoria fluttered down onto you like the snow that fell from the sky outside of the window. His thrusts got faster, and he let out little grunts and moans, his tongue darting out to lick at your neck before his teeth bit your skin, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. Your senses felt heightened and you felt like sobbing as the burning in your stomach roared like a fire about to explode. You couldn’t hold on any longer, and as Jeno’s lips met your own in a sloppy kiss, the ball of fire in your stomach finally burst and sent the best feeling you’d ever felt across your system. The orgasm Jeno gave you felt so much better than any you’d been able to bring upon yourself, and you felt yourself wanting to cling onto the man above you as he continued to make love to you.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, his eyes tightly shut as his rhythm faltered and he tensed up. His biceps on either side of your head became more defined as he tensed, his hips slamming into you one final time as he came inside of you, his hot seed spilling into your velvety walls. He lifted his head up and slowly opened his eyes, gazing at you with half open eyes. He let out a dazed smile, his hips rolling into yours a few times as he rode out his orgasm. He leaned in and laid his lips on yours, kissing you sweetly and full of love before attempting to pull back from you. You whined and gripped at his body, shaking your head as non-verbal sign that you didn’t want him to get up yet. He let out a soft chuckle and wrapped his arms around your body, rolling you both over so that you were laying on top of him. You laid your head against his chest and let out a sleepy slightly smile. “Thank you.” His chest vibrated against your head and you looked up at him, stroking at his skin with your fingernails as you raised an eyebrow.

“What for?” You asked, pressing your ear to his chest once more to listen to his heart as it started to beat slower.

“For being such a forgiving, and loving person. What I did was inexcusable, and you had every right to ignore me and tell me to back off. But you didn’t and I am so thankful for that, because I love you, and I’ll love you until my dying breath.” His words tugged at your heartstrings and made you feel a sense of elation. It helped that you were basking in the bliss of sex and his cock was still tucked inside of you, so you hadn’t yet felt the soreness you were sure to feel.

“You’re my Prince,” You pressed a kiss to his chest and smiled at him. “And I am your Princess. I wouldn’t change that for the world.” His arms wound around your body tighter and he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was quiet for a few minutes before his voice broke the silence.

“Can we do that again? Now?”

“Jeno!” You gasped, using your hands to push up on his chest to give him an amused, but shocked expression. “…Okay!”

---

The castle felt like a much happier place to you now that you could walk around without worrying about whether you’d end up pissing off the angry Prince if you came across him. Instead you now walked around actively trying to find him, wanting to spend as much time with him as you possibly could. The first night you’d spent together those five months ago had been the kickstart to the happy ever after that you’d read about in the books. And ever since that night, Jeno had stuck to his words and had been the best husband you could have asked for. When he wasn’t doing his Prince duties, he was by your side. Keeping you company, reading to you, trying his best to bed you, or talking to the ever-growing bump you had that held the future Prince or Princess of the Northern Kingdom. It didn’t come to a surprise to either of you when you’d found out about your pregnancy a month after you consummated your marriage. And the King and Queen were thrilled once you announced it to the Kingdom. The Queen had been spending a lot more time with you too, ecstatic that her son had finally seen the light and started his life with you. You had exchanged a few letters with your own parents, and they were happy for you and promised to visit you soon. Prince Jaemin had given you a wide smile and a friendly hug, before turning away and letting his face fall at the news of your pregnancy. He couldn’t ignore the thudding in his heart as it longed for you, but he had to pretend everything was fine and that he was happy for his cousin and yourself. You hadn’t heard anything about Nayeon, but you wished her well and decided to let go of all the negative feelings you felt towards her, giving her your forgiveness despite her attempted murder.

“Will you read to our little Prince or Princess when they’re born?” You sat in the library, opposite your husband at the table in front of the large window, watching the snow as it calmly settled on the ground of the Kingdom. Jeno looked up from the book in his hands and gave you a bright smile.

“Of course I will.” He laid the book down on the table and followed your gaze out of the window.

“They’ll love the fairy-tale books, especially the one about the brooding Prince who fell in love with the kind Princess.” Your smile widened as you talked about the book he’d read to you on the night of your first kiss. You turned to look at him and let out a soft chuckle, licking his bottom lip.

“Yes, it sounds rather familiar doesn’t it?” He tone was teasing, and he glanced out of the window again before letting his eyes fall on your prominent baby bump.

“How did the story end again?” You rested a hand on your bump as Jeno stood up. He helped you to your feet and stood in front of the glass with you, looking out at the Kingdom from the high window as he wound his arms around your frame. You placed your hands on his chest and gazed up at him, a soft smile playing on both of yours lips.

“They lived happily ever after.” He leaned down, capturing your lips with his own, pouring all the love and affection into the exchange. Thanking you in his mind for how you took his cold heart and heated it with your own love.

----

Hey, it’s finally out! This took me over a month to write and it’s brought me stress, joy, and finally a sense of achievement at writing something 20k words long. I would appreciate it dearly if you took a moment to tell me your thoughts and feelings about this piece. I’d love some feedback! I hope you enjoyed it x

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 3 years

Text

Gibbous Chapter 9

Chapter Title: The Thought of Fresh Meat Is Making Me Ill

Summary: It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

Pairings: platonic lamp & platonic sleepxiety

Chapter Word-Count: 5503

Warnings: Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Paranoia, Arguing, Disassociation, Sensory Overload (Yeah this one isn't gonna be a particularly happy one, Virgil Is Spiraling Mentally Big Time)

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Surprise b*tch, bet you thought you saw the last of me! I'm back for my yearly update--this chapter is dedicated to all the lovely comments people have left on previous chapter! Also!! I rewrote a significant amount of Crescent Chapter 3 and added onto Gibbous Chapter 5, the latter you might want to reread as it adds a bit to the opening scene of this chapter.

Chapter title taken from "I know I'm a Wolf" from the Young Heretics!

In books, there was always a perfect, logical sense of progression. Stories were generally told in a three-act structure. The setup, the midpoint and the resolution. The beginning of a story established the protagonist to the reader. It gave you details about their personality, their way of living, their wants and desires. Then the protagonist found themselves upended by an inciting incident.

Something that caused their way of living to never again be the same. Tension grew and grew as they sought to come about a way to continue living. Until it reached a climax, one where after which, they either thrived or withered away. In which case, the story ended as the protagonist returned to a new sense of normalcy.

One that would last until the next inciting incident came along to shake up their world once again.

Once one found this pattern, it was hard to ever see stories the same way again. There were certain things to always expect—things you could decipher before the story’s end. Real life, however, wasn’t quite like that.

Or at least this was what Logan had come to find. Sure, in many ways events in life played out like stories. There was an inciting incident, something that arose tension as one sought to solve the dilemma. It just wasn’t as neatly bound together like a story or even a math equation. Life was messy, complicated—it threw in plot twists or details that critics would claim lazy and unbelievable.

Logan was harshly reminded of this in the case of one Virgil Raine. He couldn’t understand—he was doing everything right, remaining patient and giving Virgil a chance to open up to Logan on his own time. Yet the human shied further and further away, all development he made since working at the library immediately erased. Virgil even shut out all notions of spending time outside work without explanation. It’d been weeks at this point with no result despite the attempts of Logan, Patton and even Remy, who was arguably the closet with Virgil.

Perhaps this was something that should be expected. Virgil rarely spoke about his past, but what little he shared, he had to fend mostly for his own from a young age. Whoever hurt Virgil caused him to believe again he couldn't rely on anyone but himself.

Logan was not a particularly violent person. He'd been ignorantly cruel once upon a time, yes, but even back then he wasn't one to have the urge to kill people. The wolfish part of him begged to differ, as always. His instincts howled at him to find that person and tear them limb to limb. Better yet, they demanded he snatch Virgil away and bring him against his will to the pack, to safety. As much as Logan wanted this, logically he knew Virgil might never fully trust Patton or himself ever again despite their good intentions. Illogically, he couldn’t bring himself to do the one thing he swore he’d never do again, even if it was for Virgil's safety.

He pondered this, sitting in front of a mountain of paperwork. It was late, too late for him to still be at the library. He couldn’t bring himself to move from his desk, not until he figured something out. He gnashed sharpened teeth in agitation, gripping his hair with claw-like fingernails. It didn't help that normally this time of the month, his cognitive thinking skills were usually in a different state of being. If he wasn't careful, the cleaning staff might find a wolf rampant in the library the next morning.

His phone rang just then, some meme-related ringtone Roman picked out that he’d found funny. Logan snatched it up and answered it.

“Patton, listen, I will be home soon I am just finishing up—”

“I’m not Patton,” The person on the other line cut in, “It’s me, Remy.”

“Oh,” Logan cleared his throat, thrown off by this revelation, “is something the matter?”

“Yeah, something’s the matter alright,” Remy said, his voice hoarse, “I fucked up big time with Virgil.”

It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

He supposed it had something to do with how September slipped from his fingers much in the way that his phone slipped from Jerad’s fingers. Falling all the way down, down, down, breaking upon the asphalt below into a million tiny pieces. Tried as he might, the memory haunted him in the waking world as well as his dreams.

Only, in his dreams, sometimes it was him that fell to the ground. Like a shoddy version of Humpty Dumpty. Remy, Patton and Logan would try to fix him to no avail. They’d always leave, scoffing that it wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t cry or reach out towards them, begging for them to return. He could only lay there, broken and bleeding, watching as they abandoned him. Sometimes Roman showed up to gloat, mocking him for thinking they ever cared for him.

The worst thing about it? He knew it was going to happen in real life. It was only a matter of time. Even Jerad knew this.

“C’mon, you really want to hang out with them and not me, your friend?” Jerad scoffed, “what have they done for you? Have they helped out you when you couldn’t pay rent? Replaced your shitty phone for the best smartphone out there?”

“Well no but—”

“Face it, V-Man, they’re using you. They set you up with a new job, making you beholden to them and it’s sickening! They don’t actually care about you. Once they’ve had their fun jerking you around, they’ll just throw you out with the garbage. And I don’t want you coming to me, bawling like a baby, when it happens!”

As much as Jerad was a jerk, Virgil knew deep down he was right. He’d been so ecstatic at their displays of friendship, he didn’t even stop to consider it was all a façade. Maybe they themselves thought it was real, that they actually cared for him. But eventually they’ll realize the truth. That he’s a loser and nothing more.

Or maybe they already knew the truth and were merely toying with him. Virgil was just a human, mortal through and through. Remy, Patton and Logan were all near-immortal, unkillable save a well-placed piece of silver and a stake of wood in Remy’s case. At least with Jerad, he was honest. He knew Virgil was a loser and made it clear he only hung out with Virgil because it was better than nothing.

Jerad had been nice to Virgil lately—or nice as Jerad could be at least. He’d insisted on occasionally giving Virgil rides to and from work. An offer Virgil couldn’t refuse—no matter how hard his heart thudded against his chest with Jerad’s sharp swerves and his blaring car radio. He taken to asking about Virgil’s day even, asking where he’d been and what he’d been doing. He even took Virgil out to bars and clubs in an attempt to get him to loosen up.

Virgil wanted to tell him he’d rather set himself on fire than willingly enter a noisy nightclub. However every time his lips went to form those words, he found himself saying yes always. So that was how he found himself dissociating in a noisy nightclub, holding onto a pink-colored alcoholic beverage he faked taking a sip from.

A hand knocked jokingly against his forehead. “Yo, Virgin!”

Virgil blinked, his gaze blearily onto Jerad. It was hard to concentrate with all the flashing lights and loud music. He wanted to crawl underneath his beloved purple fleece blanket in his dark, silent bedroom and never leave. But he couldn’t leave just yet. Jerad had been nice to take him along to the club. If he’d asked leave now, he’d get upset. He knew eventually Jerad would get upset at him for something, but he preferred to delay that as long as possible.

“Yeah?” Virgil mumbled, curling his fingers tighter around the alcoholic drink that had been hoisted upon him. Jerad knew he didn’t like alcohol—it was something he ridiculed Virgil about constantly. He always insisted on Virgil drinking, saying he’d stop being a pussy and man up eventually about it.

“Are you high or something? You looked like you were seeing into the third dimension or something.”

Virgil shrugged. Jerad laughed at that, patting him on the back. Virgil tensed from each thud of Jerad’s hand, but he did not flinch or move away. It was a friendly gesture on Jerad’s part. If he wanted to really hurt Virgil, he would’ve put more force behind it.

“Probably not! You’re too much of an anxious wimp,” Jerad said, downing the contents of his drink, “but let me know if you ever get man enough to try it—your good friend Jerad has connections.”

“Okay.” Virgil said, his voice sounding far off in the distance to his own ears.

Jerad laughed again, and then started rambling about something probably among the lines of his most recent hookup, his parents being jerks for not giving him a new sports car or the latest college professor he deemed a complete idiot. Virgil stared at him, nodding all the right moments yet barely processed any of the words being directed his way.

Even with lungs filled with air and a warm beating heart, Virgil felt nothing. He was nothing. A worthless sentient waste of space. Like an ugly mutt nobody wanted that should be euthanized to end its miserable existence.

His phone—the replacement one Jerad gave him—vibrated in his pocket. A text, no doubt from one of the others. The fourth one this night. Virgil’s hand twitched, refraining from looking at it in the presence of Jerad. Virgil didn’t feel like losing a second phone within a month of the first.

“Um, hey,” Virgil interrupted, wincing, “I gotta go use the bathroom, is that alright?”

“’Is that alright?’” Jerad mimicked in a high pitch tone, “Dude, is this elementary school or something? You want a hall pass? Me to hold your hand the whole way there?”

Virgil stared at him.

Jerad rolled his eyes, “Go ahead, whatever. I don’t care if you take a dump, just be quick with it.”

“Thanks.” Virgil bit out, running off before Jerad could change his mind.

He twisted and pivoted around the crowd of sweaty, glistening bodies wearing skimpy clothing. The bright neon lights and loud music warped around him like something out of a nightmare. Eventually he made it to the restrooms and locked himself in the nearest stall. The pulse of his heart roaring in his ears, he drew the phone of his pocket.

Four New Text Notifications from Patton

Patton: [Image of a black cat that looked approximately a year old. It appeared to be nestled close to Patton’s chest, staring up at the camera in wide-eyed stare.]

Patton: Look at what I found on my evening walk! Isn’t she the cutest??

Patton: I’m trying to convince Logan to let me keep her. Maybe you can come visit tomorrow and meet her??

Patton: It’s ok if not! I know you’ve been busy and I want to let you know I’m here for you, you can come to me about anything okay?

Virgil’s vision blurred a bit. He didn’t understand it. Why hadn’t Patton given up already? It’s been weeks since he’s sent Patton a text. He’d been terrified, too, really. And in the few times he ran into Patton at the library, he made excuses and scurried the other way.

Logan was at least kind enough to exchange a few pleasantries and keep their verbal interactions work-oriented. And Remy? They still delved deep into discussions about their taste in music but there was an awkward unspoken agreement not to bring up what happened that one morning. Virgil also shied from hanging outside of work, hoping Remy would eventually forget about him. It seemed to be working; Remy hadn’t offered to hang out in about a week or so.

But Patton? Patton seemed determined to stay in contact with Virgil, sending his dumb silly memes and cute animal videos. He sent good morning and good night texts, while making sure Virgil knew he could respond to them on his own time. On one hand, it made sense—this was the same Patton who saved a complete stranger’s life for literally no reason. On the other hand, he wished Patton would give up. It would made things easier, make it hurt less for everyone.

His phone buzzed with a new text notification.

Jerad: Dude, did you fall in or something?

Virgil swallowed, wiping away any stupid tears running down his face. As he typed a response to Jerad with shaky hands, the bathroom door slammed open, banging against the wall. He almost dropped his phone in the process, silently cursing at how close he’d been to breaking yet another phone.

Several loud booming voices filled the bathroom, peppered with obnoxious laughter every half second. Virgil shut his eyes, resisting the urge to cover his ears also in the process. The noise was too much. It was too much in the club outside, but all those voices echoing off the small crammed walls of the bathroom made Virgil want to scream.

The door creaked open yet again, the voices venturing away from Virgil. Good, they were leaving so Virgil could finally self-destruct in peace. Or so he thought, as a set of footsteps stopped abruptly, wavering. The club music blasted from the doorway, drowning out whatever discussion took place.

Then the door swung shut, the roaring club music muted once more. Virgil waited, breath catching in his throat as the single set of footsteps took a couple strides towards him. Oh god, this was how he was going to die, wasn’t he? This was probably some serial killer with an obsession of killing people in night club restrooms.

This was, of course, the moment his phone started vibrating in his hand. A call. Someone was calling him in the final moments of his life. Virgil looked down at the caller id; Remy. His heartrate spiked, dancing so painfully close to what a heart attack must feel like. Why was Remy calling him? Was he at last going to tell him he was done with Virgil forever?

Virgil almost wanted to ignore the call. But then he glanced at the black boots hovering near his stall and gave it a second thought. If this was going to be how his life ended, it’d probably be best to say goodbye to someone at least. Sucking a breath in, he pressed the green phone icon and held the phone to his ears.

“Hi?” He whispered.

“Hey Virgil,” Remy said, echoing oddly in Virgil’s ears, “what are you up to tonight?”

Virgil glanced down at the black boots menacingly close to his stall, “Umm, I’m just home, chilling.”

“That’s a lie, Hon. I know you’re hiding in a stall of this bathroom.”

“W-what are you talking about?” Virgil couldn’t breathe.

Remy sighed, sounding so similar to the person outside the stall, “Please, let’s talk face to face, alright?”

This was some sort of trick to lure him out of the stall, wasn’t it? Still, with the hand not clutching tightly to his phone, he reached out and unlatched the stall door.

Remy stood there, expression hidden under his black shades. His hair was slicked back with gel, shimmering with a glitter of some sort. He wore his iconic black leather jacket with a black crop top underneath. His whole outfit was black, in fact, down to his ripped jeans and the ankle-length boots. Virgil had seen him wear something similar before to a college event he’d taken Virgil to.

“W-what are you doing here?” Virgil demanded.

“I could ask you the same,” Remy responded, eyebrows raised above his shades, “this isn’t your scene, Virge. What are you doing here?”

“I’m not answering unless you answer.” Virgil said, trying to ignore how much he sounded like a toddler.

“A few of my homies from the art program wanted to celebrate the end of mid-terms. This is the night club most of the college body hangs at.” Remy crossed his arms.

“And how did you know I was in here?”

“A few keen observations,” Remy mustered a thin smile. He tapped his nose for emphasis before drawing his finger close to his lips. Virgil’s eyes widened in understanding. Vampire senses, then. “But mostly, I’d recognize those faded converse of yours anywhere.”

“O-oh.”

“I answered your question, now it’s your turn, Virge.”

“I…” Virgil said, the rest of his words strangled in his throat. His phone buzzed in his hand; another impatient text from Jerad no doubt. He didn’t bother to look at it, choosing to focus on taking a breath in rather than going unconscious from a lack of oxygen.

He could tell Remy the truth. That he’d gone with Jerad—his roommate whom he used to complain to Remy about all the time. But then Remy would ask why he was with Jerad and then—well. Then Virgil would have tell him what happened the time he found him the night his phone broke and well, Virgil wasn’t ready for that. He couldn’t tell Remy about his humiliating mistake.

“I…went here to have a good time completely by myself.” Virgil withheld himself from wincing because wow that didn’t sound weird or suspicious in the slightest, “So you can go catch up with your friends or whatever, I’m good hanging out right here.”

“Right here, in the restroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Honey,” Remy said, his voice washed with some emotion Virgil couldn’t identify, “Let’s ditch this shithole and go somewhere else.”

“W-what—but your friends—” Virgil stammered.

“—will be fine without me. N-G-L they’ll probably too trying to give themselves alcohol poison even realize I’m gone,” Remy shrugged his shoulders, “besides, you don’t seem as gucci as you say you are in here and it’s been a while since we really hung out hung out, y’know?”

Virgil stubbornly directed his gaze away from Remy, jaw tightening. It had to be okay, didn’t it? Jerad was most likely to get too drunk to even coherent colors, let alone that Virgil slipped off without him. Maybe he wouldn’t be mad. Maybe he wouldn’t fly into a rage and come close to hanging him off a balcony. Besides Remy would be even more suspicious if he said no.

Virgil sighed, holding the home button on the phone until it shut off completely. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with Jerad calling him, demanding to know where he’d disappear off to, despite ditching Virgil all the time without warning.

“Alright, fine.”

Remy smiled, his teeth looking a little too sharp for Virgil’s liking. Wordlessly he turned aside and reached for the bathroom door.

Virgil swallowed, shoving the phone in his pocket to be forgotten about. Tried as he might, he still flinched as lively blare of the club’s music and flashing lights greeted him with full force. He froze, cowering before the threshold of the door. A hand landed on his shoulder, soft and gentle.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, his brows furrowing together.

Molten lava settled in the pit of Virgil’s stomach—pity. That was the expression on Remy’s face he couldn’t identify at first. He didn’t want pity; Virgil knew what pity meant. He didn’t want pity of any kind, it reminded him too much of the foster parents that looked at him like he was some feral dog that could be whipped into obedience. And sure, Remy had never hurt him but it didn’t mean Virgil forgotten about that morning spent at Remy’s dorm a month back.

Eyes lit up with a burning, controlled fire. Words hissed through a clenching jaw, “Tell me their name and I’ll beat them up for you.”

If Remy was willing to hurt who he deemed as threats to Virgil, who’s to say he wouldn’t be willing to hurt Virgil? To reprimand Virgil, to let him know how much of an idiot he was being? It sounded absurd, even now, because he’d known Remy for almost a year. Remy had plenty opportunities up to now to do something and hadn’t. Yet he was a vampire; years were nothing to him. He had plenty of time to wait for Virgil to slip up in some way and make his irritation known.

And Virgil knew by now to expect the other shoe to drop in a relationship—it was why he distanced himself, isolated himself to solely to work and his cramped little room at the apartment. He was foolish to believe Remy, Patton and Logan were different. Logan and Patton especially—what was he thinking? Patton saved him, sure, but Logan had been hellbent on locking him in their basement for the eternity of time. Why had ever he allowed himself to accept their apologies, to believe something was going right in his life for once?

“I’m fine.” Virgil snarled, shoving himself forward. It was like marching into a warzone, the music assaulted his ears and rattled uncomfortably against his chest cavity. He grimaced, keeping his eyes towards the floor, away from the flashing lights. He stopped a bit before the ocean of bodies that stood between them and the entrance.

He knew if he looked up, he could make out the back of Jerad’s shirt from his spot at the bar. Stupid, this was so stupid. Why had he allowed himself to get talk into this by Remy? There was no doubt in his mind that Jerad would catch him trying to leave and rightfully demand why he was ditching him for Remy. It was a shit thing to do, after all.

Friends don’t ditch one another without explanation. Jerad left him, sure, but he always had an explanation after the fact. Virgil didn’t think Jerad would like his explanation very much. Especially when it involved Remy, one of the people Jerad had been trying to warn him about.

A hand gracefully looped itself around one of his own, tugging him off to the side rather than through the crowd. Virgil looked to see Remy guiding them towards a set of doors, ones clearly marked for employees only.

“Remy—”

“Shhh, this is a faster way outta here, trust me.” He said, flashing a smile. Perhaps it was meant to be comforting but for Virgil it only caused his stomach to churn.

Right before they made it to the doors, an employee materialized in front of them. “Excuse me, sirs, you’re not allowed back here—”

“Cindy, gurl, remember me, Lansing? Worked here last summer? Do you remember, yeah?” Remy lowered his shades to take a look at her. Virgil peered behind him, unable to view Remy’s face. He could see Cindy’s face, however. Her face pinched up in confusion, frowning, before abruptly smoothening out with a wide grin stretched from ear-to-ear. She looked right at Remy, her gaze shifting entirely off of Virgil as if he no longer existed.

“Lansing, oh! Oh yes, I remember.” Cindy said, with a high-pitched laugh. Virgil shrunk further back into Remy’s shadow, squeezing Remy’s hand tightly. Something was wrong and he didn’t like it. Remy never mentioned working as a bartender—and that wasn’t quite something Remy would be quiet about. Virgil could just picture the outrageous bartending stories he’d have if that was the case.

Remy laughed along with her, light and airy.

“Good, then can ya do a fellow former co-bartender a favor and let us slip through, just this once?”

“Gurl, of course, just if you caught don’t let Gregory know I was the one that let you pass.” She leaned in conspiratorially, face twitching a bit.

“Oh don’t worry, you won’t see us again, in fact forget that you even saw us. I’d love to stay and catch up, but I bet you have things to do.”

She laughed again at that. “Yes, of course. It was nice seeing you, Lansing, but I have to go.”

Cindy hurried off, quickly dissipating through the crowd. Virgil blinked; what the fuck? What the fuck was that—

He didn’t even have time to process the encounter before Remy led them into the dimly lit back hallway of the nightclub. Whether it was a faster way out of the nightclub was debatable. For all his talk about previously working there, Remy seemed just as lost as Virgil in the winding hallway. He led them one direction, only to immediately pivot down the other way.

Remy wasn’t talking. Remy was always talking endlessly, as if speaking was as vital as oxygen to him. He was terrible at whispering too—something Logan would get on him about at the library. That was why he was usually stuck on front desk duty to speak with patrons, helping out at events or doing organizational work in the back office. For Remy to be this silent, like the brooding calm before a storm, well. Virgil’s lungs wanted to seize up right then and there.

Eventually, they made to a door that opened out to an alleyway, right where the night club kept its dumpster. The moon gleamed from her perch in the sky, nearly full but not quite. Like a cookie with a bite taken out of it. Virgil knew there was terms for the different phases of the moon. His mother loved taking him out to see the night sky. She’d point out the constellations and tell him what phase the moon that night was.

He wished he could remember, for her sake, what they were. Considering he knew actual werewolves, you’d think he pay better attention to it. But it was a topic Virgil never felt brave enough to venture and one that neither Patton nor Logan opened up much on their own about.

He stared at the moon, transfixed, that he almost forgotten the reason he was outside in the first place. Not until Remy murmured something before attempting to lead him off somewhere. The gaping dread from moments prior seized hold of him once more.

“No!” Virgil snapped, yanking his hand out of Remy’s grip. He stumbled backwards a few steps, slamming himself into a wall of the building in the process.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, frowning as he took a step forward.

“What the hell was that back there?”

“What do you mean—”

“Don’t act stupid!” Virgil demanded, taking a shaky breath, “That lady—Cindy—you did something, I—I don’t know, she was acting weird! And—and you were acting weird! So I’m asking again; What. The Hell. Was. That?”

Remy stared at him, his breath hitching, “Virgil, I was just trying to get you to a quiet place ASAP before you—”

“You’re still not answering the question.” Virgil cut in, his intestines tightening themselves into knots over it. Because maybe this was just a classic case of Virgil paranoia striking again. Maybe he really was driving himself into a panic attack over nothing. Maybe he was accusing Remy unjustly.

Yet, if that was the case why would Remy flinch if Virgil struck him physically with his words?

“Virgil,” Remy said slowly, “I need you not to panic and hear me out, ok?”

Virgil’s heartrate accelerated. Not panic, not panic?! What did Remy expect but for him to panic at those words?

“Okay.” Virgil said, definitely panicking.

“What have you’ve heard about vamps?”

“That they—you drink blood. And your reflection doesn’t show up in mirrors—and—and if you get bitten by a vampire, you’ll either turn into one or get mind controlled.”

“All technically true, well I mean—there’s a fuck-ton more to the turning process than that—” Remy cut himself off, “That’s beside the point. The point is, what you call mind-control, we call ‘enthralling.’ Enthralling is…”

“Is what?”

“Enthralling is, well. It’s a form of hypnosis. Anyone enthralled by a vampire is mostly aware of it and the least likely they are to follow a vampire’s suggestions, the more likely they are to fight against the hypnosis. And it can be activated through eye-contact which is what I did to Cindy.”

Virgil couldn’t breathe. Suddenly pieces were slotted together in mind, forming a picture Virgil never wanted to envision. That faint but visceral memory of Remy with red eyes, the natural charisma Remy held with anyone he met, how Remy managed to steal confidential information from Virgil’s employee file in the back office of Kirby’s Burgers—all of it. He thought Remy, out of anybody, was safe. Past his sassy, laidback exterior, Remy was honest, willing to speak his mind about anything and everything.

If Remy enthralled a complete stranger without blinking an eye—who’s to say he wasn’t above doing it to Virgil? Who’s to say he hadn’t enthralled Virgil into being his friend? Who’s to say Virgil wasn’t an oblivious mouse in a game of cat and mouse? Oh gods, this had just confirmed all of Virgil’s worst fears and more.

“Virgil—” Remy said, reaching out, his eyes hidden beneath his shades. He continued speaking, a mumble jumbo string of excuses probably. Virgil couldn’t stand to stay around and listen to it.

“Stop—just don’t—” Virgil stuttered, taking one step and then another towards the open sidewalk. What was just a few steps then became a few hundred until he found himself leaning against the door to the apartment, hands shaking to slot the key to unlock it.

A few more steps he was inside, the usual musty smell an unexpected comfort. He sat on the couch, seconds stretching into eternity. He half-expected Remy to have chased after him, demanding Virgil to listen, why couldn’t you just listen, you’re so stupid no wonder you’re pathetic—

Virgil blinked a few times, his eyes burning with some sort of irritation. For some reason, Remy let him go. He couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. His head ached and so did his ears for some reason.

Jerad entered the apartment a few millennia later. Virgil froze at the rattling doorknob, his hand clutching onto his phone in his pocket.

“There you are, you fucker!” Jerad drawled, stumbling over in a drunken stupor. His hand moved towards Virgil, but not with a closed fist. Instead he patted him on the back like earlier, “I can’t believe you did it! You finally got the balls to go and hook up with somebody! I guess I can’t call you Virgin, now huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Virgil murmured, not correcting him on that assumption. He sat there, a bit of tension draining from him. Jerad wasn’t mad for abandoning him. Jerad was still a jerk, but at least Virgil mostly knew what to expect of him. It wasn’t ideal, but that was life. It was better to deal with the devil you knew, then the devil you didn’t know. Virgil was stupid to have ever thought otherwise.

“My parents are being such dicks at the moment,” Jerad said, precipitously changing topics as per usual of him, “sometimes I wish I didn’t have to wait until they were dead to take my inheritance and do what I want to do, y’know?”

Virgil didn’t really know. Did his parents leave him money? They had to have had some sort of savings stashed away. A life insurance of some sort, right? It wasn’t like they were poor. He never thought about inquiring into that. Jerad accidentally slapped Virgil across the arm with a huge hand gesture, still ranting about something. Maybe it wasn’t an accidental hit.

Virgil didn’t know. His tether on reality felt weak, like a balloon close to floating away into the stratosphere. He almost wished he could float away, but the weight in his chest said otherwise. Jerad passed out not long after his rant, slumped half on the floor and half on the sofa. Virgil took this opportunity to slip into the comfort of his bedroom and turn on his cellphone once more.

Seventeen new text notifications and five missed calls from Jerad greeted him, along with one new text notification from Logan. He clicked on Logan’s and his conversation, staring at Logan’s text at the bottom of it.

Logan: Virgil, Remy wanted me to inform you that he is taking a leave of absence from work. Please let me know if you need to take a leave of absence as well or need to confide in somebody as a friend, Patton or I would be happy to listen.

Virgil stared at it some more. Then he tapped out a short response, set the phone on the stool that was his makeshift nightstand and collapsed headfirst into his mattress.

Virgil: K thanks, I’m fine

A/N: Hope everyone is doing well, if you enjoyed the chapter please consider leaving a comment--it's completely free and helps me out as a fanfic writer a ton! I'm technically not in the Sanders Sides fandom anymore, but I still have a lotta fondness for this fic and I will finish it, even if takes me ten years to do so :') -Kat

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #kat writes #werewolf au #long post

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mspufflehuff · 3 years

Text

It’s Too Late For That

Pairings: Steve Rogers x plus size!reader (past relationship), Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Prompt: “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, hm?” This prompt is from @just-one-ordinary-fangirl 1000 follower challenge.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Implied smut, cheating, lots of angst (for the most part)

Masterlist!!

Author’s Note: This is for my entry in @just-one-ordinary-fangirl challenge. I hope this turned out good as this is my first time writing angst. It has a happy ending for a few people in this fanfic and you can probably guess who for. I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it and checks out my other fanfics that aren’t this angsty. Love y’all!!

"Dearest, didn't you say this was going to be a Christmas party with everyone?" You asked your husband as you picked up some steaks from the front of the deli counter. "I did, doll. Why? Do you think something is wrong?" Your husband asked you, coming up from behind you and setting a hand on your waist. "No. No. I just wasn't sure if we should get steaks or we should bring a dessert for everyone." You thought to yourself, giggling as you felt stubble rub against your cheek.

"Bucky, that tickles. You need to start using that beard conditioner I got you from my trip to Italy." You kissed his stubbly cheek, smiling happily at him. "Whatever my beautiful wife says." He purred softly and kissed the crown of your head. "Well, if you think we should bring a dessert, you can make that delicious carrot cake you make for me for my birthday," Bucky tells you as he walks over to the shopping cart, a babbling toddler sitting inside the cart. "Ba ba ba!!" The little girl cooed at Bucky as he got closer. "I know, sweetheart!" He leaned down and kissed her nose, agreeing with her babbling.

"She's a charmer just like her father." You teased Bucky, putting the steaks back on their counter you picked them up from. "Well, let's go get more carrots since I'm gonna make that carrot cake. You have to promise me, Barnes, that you won't eat it before the party." You pointed your finger out to him, giving him a teasing look. "That's gonna be hard, doll. You know how much I love your baking." Bucky smiled, following you with the cart over to the produce section of the store.

Like you and Bucky, a man in a hoodie, jeans, and sunglasses made his way over to the produce section. You soon reached the carrots and started picking out the larger of the carrots you could find. As you were pulling away to look at the other produce, you heard a soft raspy voice. "Y/N?" You lifted your head up and looked towards the voice. It was the man with the sunglasses you didn't see earlier. "Yes? Is there something I can help you with?" You asked in a questioning tone. The man pulled off his sunglasses and moved the hood off his head. It was Steve. Steve Rogers. Your ex-boyfriend.

You blinked a few times and looked at him. "Oh… hi Steve. It's been a long time since we've seen each other, hm?" You asked him, tightening your hand around the bag of carrots you held. "Uh… yeah, I guess it has. It's been a few years, right? How have you been? Are you still working with kids?" He asked nervously, watching your face in desperation. "It has. I think about 5 or 6 years. I am still working with kids. I'm actually gonna be moving after Christmas. I got an offer in France to teach children." You gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I actually have a kid of my own. Her name is Winnifred. She is turning one before New Year's."

"Wow… you have a kid… You always talked about having one." Steve smiled softly at the memories of talking about having children together. "What are you doing nowadays?" You asked, tilting your head softly. "I'm drawing and doing art commissions when I'm not on missions." He rubbed the back of his neck, watching your eyes move across his face. "Oh, that's good. I'm glad you got back into drawing-" "Hey doll, I grabbed the powdered sugar since I know you ran out-" Bucky stopped when he saw Steve. "Hey, Steve… long time no see, huh?" Steve looked at Bucky, then you, then at your daughter, who was babbling and reaching for Bucky.

"Yeah, Buck. So, you two got together?" Steve asked, a little color draining from his face. He couldn't believe his best friend and his ex-girlfriend had gotten together after you two broke up. He talked with Bucky every so often, but Bucky never mentioned who his wife was. It was making sense to Steve now. You were married to Bucky. That's why he slowly stopped going on missions and eventually left the Avengers. "Yeah. We met about a year after we broke up." You told Steve, picking up Winnifred and bouncing her on your hip. "After we hit it off on our first date, we started seeing each other a lot. After about 3 years of dating, he asked me to marry him. I said yes, and then after a year, I found out I was pregnant. Then I had this little angel." You explained to Steve, kissing Winni's nose.

Bucky came up behind you and rubbed your back. Bucky knew it was hard to talk with Steve after your breakup. "But enough about me. Are you with Janice? Do you have someone waiting for you at home?" You asked, tearing stinging eyes as you looked at Steve.

*6 years ago*

"Answer me, Steve!!" You cried out to Steve, tears falling down your face. "Was it worth it? Was she worth it?" You asked softly, falling to your knees on the floor of your shared apartment with Steve. Steve said nothing. He stood there, looking at you. Steve watched you, regretting everything he did to hurt you. He hurt you by sleeping with one of your best friends. You had been gone on a business trip, and while you were gone, your now ex-best friend came over to your house and slept with Steve. You found out after finding clothes and lingerie that was definitely not yours in your closet.

This was a week after coming back from your business trip. You then asked your best friend, at the time, if she had left some of her underwear at your apartment. She then spilled everything to you over the phone while Steve was gone on a mission. You cried after finding out. You were upset, pissed, confused, and obviously hurt at Steve's actions. So when Steve got back, you let him walk into your shared apartment before you showed him the lingerie. After getting no answer from Steve, you packed all of your stuff and left the apartment, leaving your key with him. You stayed with your mom until you got back on your feet.

*Now*

"Uh… no... I don't have anyone waiting for me. I didn't talk to Janice after what we did. After you left, I stopped talking to her. I couldn't see her again after hurting you." He told you, keeping strong so he wouldn't break into tears in front of you. "Ah… well… I hope you find someone, Steve. Well, we need to be going. I have to get dinner cooked and give Winni a bath. It was good seeing you, Steve. Have a nice life." You gave him a tiny smile, putting the carrots you had in your hand in the cart. Bucky told Steve a bye and good seeing him before following you to the checkout counters.

Steve stood there while you, Bucky, and Winnifred checked out and left the grocery store. He couldn't hold his tears in after you left. You, on the other hand, felt calm and free. You had been trying to find the words to tell Steve for years. So seeing Steve in the store, having the life you've always dreamed of, you were happy. You loved Bucky and Winnifred and thanked whatever god could hear you for giving you this amazing life you had been blessed with.

You thank Steve for cheating on you. If he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have gotten the life you had now. Even if it took a heartbreak and some healing, you found your true love and had a beautiful angel as your child.

Hi everyone! So I know I already put an author’s note, but I wanted to start adding a taglist for people who wanted it. So if you are someone who wants to be on my taglist, message me and Ill start putting you on my taglist for my fanfics. Thanks everyone! ❤

Taglist:

@velvetcardiganbucky

#JOOF1000challenge #Steve Rogers x plus size reader #I hope I did good #plus size reader #fanfic for a challenge #bucky barnes x plus size reader #marvel fanfic #sorry Steve but you did reader wrong

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mldrgrl · 3 years

Text

Broken Things 23/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall (THIS CHAPTER RATED R) See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

“Go on,” Melvin says to Mulder. “Take care of your wife. I’ve got the horses.”

Mulder holds Katherine close and takes her out of the stables. She’s weeping, hiding her face in his neck and clutching at his shirt. He can feel her tears against his skin and her trembling against his chest. Her choked little cries are tearing him apart.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs to her, over and over again. “You’re alright, I’ve got you.”

He brings her into the washroom and kicks the laundry washtub over so he can set her down on something. He’s able to keep an arm around her as he lights the furnace and then shifts her from one side to the other so he can work the pump and fill the bathing tub. He finds a bottle of bathing oil in the cabinet and pours a bit in. The room suddenly smells of roses.

“We’re gonna get you warm,” he tells her. “And clean.”

“I’ll never be clean,” she whispers, and drops her head into her hands and cries harder.

“Yes, you will.”

When the bathing tub is full and the water is warm enough, he undoes the knot holding Katherine’s robe closed and pushes the ruined garment off her shoulders. Her nightgown has a few stains on it and can probably be salvaged, but he’ll throw them both out anyway. He’ll buy her a dozen new nightgowns and robes, ones that aren’t soiled or hold any terrible memories in them.

“My hair will get wet,” she says to him, when he tries to get her into the bathing tub. He runs to their room and gets the box of hairpins for her. He takes a cloth and wipes her hands clean and then she winds her braid up high on her head and even with no looking glass and shaking fingers, manages to pin it into place and off her neck.

“Okay?” he asks.

Katherine nods and then takes the hand that Mulder offers and climbs into the bathing tub. She folds up almost immediately with her legs bent and her back hunched and her head resting on her knees. Mulder takes up the rag, soaks it in the bathwater and then washes her back.

“I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me,” Katherine murmurs, her voice slightly muffled by her legs.

“I think the world of you,” he answers. “That will never change.”

She turns her face towards him and rests her cheek on her knees. He just keeps washing her back and shoulders, rubbing soft circles into her skin with the cloth. She blinks slowly at him and in her eyes he can see the pain and exhaustion of a heavy burden she’s been carrying.

“I’ve loved you from the day I met you,” he says. “And loved you even more every day since. Whatever it is, Kate, I promise you without a shadow of a doubt that I’ll still love you even more tomorrow.”

She breathes deep, ribs contracting under his hand, and then exhales swiftly. “My father is a Navy captain,” she says. “He’s highly respected and very strict. And my mother is very pious. They’re both very set in their ways. The only person I fear more than my father, or my mother, is God.”

“Mmhm.”

“I have an older brother named Bill. Bill Jr. And I have two younger sisters, Melissa and Charlotte. I was very close with Melissa. I miss her terribly.”

“Did something happen to them?”

“No.” She blinks without really closing her eyes and her head sways slightly. “My father didn’t believe much in education for girls, I think I’ve told you as much, but I begged him to stay in school. He told me I could stay until I turned sixteen and then I would have to prepare to be married. I agreed, even though I wanted so badly to be a doctor that I secretly applied to medical colleges, hoping that if one said yes, he would have to let me go. Well, there was one college that accepted me, but my father still wouldn’t let me go.”

“You were accepted to medical college?”

Katherine nods and sniffles quietly. “I told him that if he refused to let me go, then I would refuse to marry any man he tried to match me with. He said that it was my duty to marry well and that if I refused to do so, he’d put me out on the street. I said I would go happily if it meant I would no longer be under his tyrannical thumb. It’s the only time I’ve ever defied my father and I did think then he would turn me out, but instead he struck a compromise with me and said I was allowed to go to a nurse’s training school that was nearby, but that once I’d complete the training, I should have to find a husband.”

Katherine turns her face back into her knees and sighs heavily. Mulder drops the cloth into the bathing tub and massages the back of her neck. He waits for her to continue, wanting her to alleviate herself of this load, but not wanting to push her too far. The balance between encouragement and pressure is delicate.

“There was a doctor there,” she says. “Doctor Waterston. Everyone revered him, including me. Listening to him lecture, you knew right away he was brilliant. When I had my placement interview, I told him that I hoped to be a doctor one day and he seemed to take an interest in helping me. He allowed me to attend his surgeries and even permitted me to perform a few minor ones of my own, instructing me every step of the way.”

“You’ve performed surgeries?”

She turns to look at him again and nods a little. “I’ve removed a bullet from a shoulder and closed the wound and amputated a foot.”

“Incredible.”

Katherine swallows and her body weaves slightly as she closes her eyes. “Doctor Waterston invited me to dinner one night and told me he’d just received a new medical text that he thought I’d be interested in and took me to his personal office to look at it. He told me he saw a lot of potential in me and knew I could be as brilliant of a doctor as he was, one day.”

A feeling of dread creeps up Mulder’s spine. There is something about the monotone change in Katherine’s voice leads him to expect something sinister to come up.

“He…” Her voice hitches slightly and pinches off.

“You don’t have to say it, Kate, if you can’t.”

“I need to.” She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “He offered me a glass of brandy, which I did not accept, and then he offered me a glass of water and...and he sat beside me on the sofa as I tried to review the text. I remember thinking that I felt a bit uncomfortable because he was sitting so close. And then...and then I couldn’t focus and I felt very tired and my limbs felt paralyzed. I told him that I felt strange and he said it was nothing to worry about. But...then he was holding me down and I did not know why and I told him he was hurting me and he got very angry and told me to stop talking and he put his hand over my mouth. I remember that there was some kind of stain on the ceiling and I stared at it. I don’t know how long I stared at it.”

Mulder feels like he’s going to vomit. He breathes in and out through his nose and rubs Katherine’s back, but he thinks he might be coming out of his skin. He would like to find this Doctor Waterston and rip him apart with his bare hands.

“I don’t remember getting home,” she says. “I remember waking the next morning and feeling ill and...and very sore between my legs. After that night, he behaved as though I was a stranger. He didn’t call on me in class, didn’t offer to allow me to observe any surgeries, and didn’t seem to acknowledge I existed at all. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong and I was sick over it.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I must have let him believe he could touch me.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought he was being kind and he took advantage of you.”

“My father had told me that no good would come of me going to school and he was right. God has been punishing for my ambition.”

“I don’t believe that. I don’t believe that at all.”

“I was so sick about the whole thing that I went to see a specialist about the constant nausea and body aches I was experiencing. He told me I was with child and I told him I didn’t know how that was possible because I wasn’t married. He must have thought I was so ignorant. I was ignorant, though. I’d...I’d read about pregnancy and childbirth in my medical texts, but nothing told me how it happened. My mother told me only married women could have babies. I know now how ill-informed I was.”

Katherine pauses there and then lifts her head. She tilts her face up and Mulder can see the slow tears that run down her cheeks and drip from her chin. He wipes them away, but they keep coming.

“I tried to tell Doctor Waterston about my condition, but he told me would publicly accuse me of blackmail and have me expelled from the program. He said that no one would believe me if I said the baby was his and that the word of a respected doctor meant more than that of a fallen woman. And then he gave me a five dollar note and the name of another doctor that he said would get rid of the problem.”

“Oh, Kate.”

“I didn’t. I couldn’t. That would be a sin.” She shakes her head. “I left school. I told my mother what had happened and she was very upset with me. She didn’t know how I could do such a vile and wicked thing and bring such shame to the family. She didn’t know where she went wrong to raise such a common whore of a daughter and said the devil had to have taken hold of me and the best I could do now was repent for my sins and pray that He would forgive me.”

“You did not do anything wrong,” Mulder says, emphatically. “I am sorry that your mother said those things to you, but you have to believe me when I tell you that none of that is true.”

“I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

Mulder does not know how to soothe her. He was not raised religious and until now has held no real opinions on the church, but his blood is boiling. He will forever hold malice in his heart for the ideology that would make the most wonderful woman he’s ever met feel so worthless and wicked.

“Believe me,” he says. “Trust in me when I tell you that you are not sinful.”

Katherine sighs. She sniffles and wipes a wet hand down her face. “Then why was I punished so harshly?” she whispers.

His mouth goes dry and his heart feels like it drops into his gut. Her sorrow pains him. He remembers once that he happened upon his aunt in her study while she was reviewing correspondences and she seemed very angry over a letter she had received. When he asked her what was wrong, she told him that women were always suffering for the whims of men. And then she’d stared at him hard and told him to never, ever trifle with a lady unless he intended to be a husband or a father. He was eight years old at the time, but he’d never forgotten it. And he vowed then and there to never, ever have a whim, whatever that might be.

He looks at his wife and he knows she has suffered, more than he even first suspected. He wishes he’d known her sooner. Wishes he could have had occasion to bump into her one day before anything bad had happened to her. Because he knows deep in his heart that he would have known right then and there that he would marry her, just as he knew a few months ago. At the very least, maybe if he’d gotten to her first, she would not have married Jack Willis. But, how did that happen?

“How did you come to marry Jack Willis?” he asks.

“My father knew of him and knew he had some sort of trouble with a debt. He offered to pay the debt if he would marry me. Jack agreed, but I don’t think that either of us knew that even though I now had a husband, my parents told me I had to leave and never to come back. They said I was a bad influence over my sisters. They said I could ruin their chances for a good marriage. They thought that if anyone were to ever find out the truth about the baby...”

Katherine trails off and then turns her face up again. Tears leak so constantly down her cheeks he’s afraid she may never stop crying, but she’s silent and her gaze becomes utterly vacant.

“Kate, what...what happened to the baby?”

“Jack had people in Kentucky and so he took me there. A lot of that time is...I have a hard time remembering some of it.” Katherine wrinkles her forehead and closes her eyes. She touches her face with her fingertips like her head is aching. “They weren’t very kind to me, or to Jack. An Aunt or a cousin of his said she was a midwife and said she’d see to me when the time came. It wasn’t that long before I started having pains one night and bleeding, but I had barely let out my skirts by then and I knew it was much too soon. To answer your question, I don’t know what happened to the baby. They wouldn’t let me see it. I’d lost a lot of blood and was too weak to protest. Jack said it was just as well since he didn’t want to raise a bastard anyhow.”

“That sonofabitch,” Mulder mutters, before he can stop himself. He grits his teeth in anger. Jack Willis is lucky he’s already dead.

“There were three more babies that came and went after that. I think they must have known what kind of world they might be coming into and it was a blessing that they decided not to stay. I wanted each one of them, I truly did, but I didn’t know how I would protect them when I couldn’t even protect myself.”

Kate breathes out a huge sigh after that and drops her head to her knees once more. Her shoulders start to shake and Mulder feels his throat constrict and his eyes burn with his own tears. He cries with her and for her, resting his head against the back of her shoulder as he wraps his arms around her.

↭

She’s never felt so exhausted in all her life. She wants to lay down, curl up, and sleep for days. Her eyes burn with four years worth of tears. She’s cried herself dizzy and it takes her some time to realize that Mulder is crying as well. She reaches up to run her fingers through his hair. He turns his face and kisses her shoulder.

“I’ll understand if you want me to go,” she says.

“Not a chance in hell, honey.” He lifts his head and cups her cheek. “I knew you were strong, I knew you were brave, I just didn’t know how strong and how brave.”

“I don’t feel very strong. Or brave.”

“You are.”

“I’m so tired.”

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

Mulder helps her out of the bathing tub and wraps her in a towel. He lifts her easily and carries her to bed. He gets her into fresh nightclothes and undresses down to his drawers and then climbs into bed with her and pulls her tight into his arms. They’re face to face, nearly nose to nose.

“I am terribly sorry that I lied to you,” she says.

“You never lied, you just needed time.”

“I was just so afraid that...I didn’t want you to know how low I really was.”

“It never would have mattered to me. It doesn’t matter to me now.”

“I believe that you mean that.”

“I do.” He shifts and holds her cheek, stroking her brow with his thumb. “There’s something that I should tell you too. Something about my family as well.”

“Alright.”

“Are you familiar with Fawkes Publishing House?”

“I think so. Maybe.”

“Do you know the writer, E. M. Abbott?”

“Of course. I read all his books. They call him the Charles Dickens of the Americas.”

“Mm.” Mulder chuckles. “E. M. Abbott is my aunt.”

“Your aunt?” Katherine pulls back a bit from Mulder and opens her mouth, aghast. “E. M. Abbott is your aunt? The aunt that raised you?”

“Yes, great aunt Emeline. My grandmother and Auntie were the daughters of William Fawkes, who started Fawkes Publishing House. When my aunt began writing at a young age, her father told her no one would buy books written by women, but he still thought she was extraordinarily talented and of course he wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity. He told her he would publish her works under a pseudonym. Everyone called her Em since she was a young girl and she liked Abbott because it was the first name she could think of that came first, alphabetically. And so Emeline Beatrice Fawkes became E. M. Abbott.”

“That’s extraordinary.”

“And a well-guarded secret in publishing.”

“How sad though, that she could never get the recognition she deserved.”

“Oh, Auntie actually enjoyed that she’d so thoroughly pulled the wool over the literary community’s eyes. She took great delight in reviews that particularly focused on her unique perspective that was like ‘no other man.’ I would tend to get angry on her behalf though. I found it very unfair, very unjust.”

“It is.”

Mulder nods. “I have done my best to try to change things though. Fawkes Publishing puts out more novels by women than any other major house out there.”

“What?” Katherine raises her brow slightly. “When you said that sometimes you conduct business in Boston, what did you mean by that?”

“I sit on a board representing the family’s remaining interests in the company. We don’t necessarily handle any of the day-to-day anymore, but we own a significant share, which gives us, or me, rather, a fair amount of control. Let me tell you, publishing women writers has proved to be profitable over the years. Extremely profitable, actually.”

She ducks her head a little and snorts softly. “I was a little worried at how freely you spent your money.”

“I can assure you that money is not something you’ll ever have to worry about.”

“I think you could have absolutely nothing and I would still love you.”

Mulder lifts his head from the pillow and leans up on his elbow. “You love me?” he asks.

“I do.”

He smiles and then lays back down and pulls her against him with a sigh. She tucks her head down under his chin and wraps her arm around his back. A strip of moonlight shimmers on his arm and she gazes at it with heavy eyelids. She must be very tired or her imagination is playing tricks on her, but his skin seems to radiate a brilliant blue hue mixed with a bit of red.

#i wrote this #broken things #chapter 23 #MSR #AU #rated R #upsetting content warning

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notanacousticsetcal · 3 years

Text

speak now - luke hemmings

summary - based off of the song speak now by taylor swift -- highly recommend listening before reading for the full experience.

warnings - none? nerves and kind of public speaking

word count - 1.6k - lyrics not included this time, lemme know if you guys prefer that

a/n - im SO sorry ive been MIA, i have had absolutely zero motivation. this is some trash i wrote a while ago and i thought i would post it while im trying to find inspiration to write something better. its the 5th installment of the song series so you can go check those out as well if you want! also, like i said in the word count, i did not include the lyrics this time around. i think i prefer that but im not sure, let me know if you guys want me to include the lyrics next time and i will! thank you for reading, i missed yall.

***

Your mom’s old pale yellow dress didn’t fit as well as you had hoped but you had no other options, formal events were not a common occurrence in your life. The wedges pinched at your toes and the thin dress straps dug into your shoulders but the soft yellow complimented your skin and you liked the ribbon around the waist so it wasn’t a total loss.

You sucked in a sharp breath, adjusting the dress once more in the mirror before grabbing your purse and hustling out the door.

This wasn’t happening. You weren’t actually doing this. The girl who feels like she has to throw up before public speaking and stutters over small talk and avoids eye contact at all costs is supposed to stand up in front of 100 people and declare her love for the boy getting married to someone else? You felt nauseous thinking about it.

But you couldn’t sit idly by and watch the love of your life say “I do,” to the snobby girl that put gum in your hair in middle school. If there was ever a time that you would stand in front of a crowd voluntarily and speak, it would be now.

The venue was beautiful. The church had vaulted ceilings and large stained glass windows that cast colorful shadows on the hardwood flooring. There were cascading white curtains and pale pink tablecloths with little white doilies. It was pretty but humble and you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest.

Concealing yourself in the crowd wasn’t difficult considering she’d invited the county and all its neighbors. Everyone was in the pews standing and mingling and you noticed the only group sitting quietly was the family of the bride herself, all looking around carefully like the normal folk were unevolved cavemen. They wore coordinating lavender outfits with done up hair and hats with little feathers -- something straight out of a period piece.

You rolled your eyes at their judgmental nature and apparent superiority complex before your attention was drawn to the boys in the front row talking seriously among themselves, dread written clearly on their faces.

Calum, Ashton and Michael wore similar black tuxes, looking uncomfortable in the formal getup. You only watched for a few moments before you caught Ashton’s attention. He first looked shocked but his expression quickly became sincere. He gave you an apologetic smile which you returned before heading to the back to avoid any more curious eyes. His family would surely recognize you if they saw you and you didn’t want any extra attention on you until you were subjecting yourself to it.

As you waited for the ceremony to start, you stared fondly out the window at the snowy trees and calm serenity of nature before allowing yourself to be whisked away in a vivid daydream about what it might be like to tell him how you truly feel.

You jumped, pulled from your daydream by dark, heavy chords coming from the church organ. You cringed a little as the horribly ill fitting song continued, but readied yourself for the ceremony to begin.

The silk purple curtains concealed your figure enough in the back of the church and your heart rate began to rise. This was happening. You were about to profess your love to a man who might turn you down in front of everyone and their mother. But it would be worth it. You couldn’t live your whole life wondering “what if?”

You heard a squeak of door hinges from your right and held still. Any sudden movements might give you away.

A young girl came running through with a wicker basket in hand, poorly distributing rose petals along the aisle. Something caught your eye in the front of the room.

Luke stepped out, front and center, and straightened his tie. Your breath caught in your throat. He looked just the same as the last time you’d seen him on that warm summer night. You had expected some drastic change, to not even recognize him. But it was Luke. The same one that picked flowers with you at recess and stopped to wait for you whenever you needed to tie your shoe. The same one that was always there to dry your tears and to watch dumb romantic comedies with you without complaining. He stood there quietly, clean shaven and rosy cheeked, the same Luke you knew and loved.

You pushed away the more upsetting memories, like the one from that warm, sticky night. The image of his tear stained cheeks and pleading eyes.

Moments later, your eyes were pulled from Luke. Courtney came strutting through the open Mahogany doors, waving like she was fucking Queen Elizabeth.

You rolled your eyes at her bedazzled ball gown and fake pageant smile. She didn’t care about Luke, she cared about image and reputation. Which is why you were really about to piss her off.

You looked back towards Luke and tried to read his expression but it was stoic, unmoved. You wish that was me, don’t you?

Courtney reached Luke and shot him a wide smile, to which he returned. Except Luke's was empty, not sincere. Luke had always thought Courtney was beautiful and smart and made the decision from there that marrying her wouldn’t be so bad. After you had turned him down in the glow of the firelight on that July night. It broke him and you hated yourself every day because of it. You weren’t ready to love him then. But you were most certainly ready now.

Ready to risk everything for that blue eyed boy.

The ceremony progressed and the preacher neared the end of the formalities. You felt your time was nearing. Your knees were weak and knocky, your hands shaking.

The preacher paused, and with his booming voice said “if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He looked down, preparing to move on and read the next portion, assuming no one would protest. No sane person ever protested.

Your breath hitched in your throat. It was now or never. If you didn’t find it in you to step forward at this moment, the person you love most in this world might be gone forever.

The room fell silent and you closed your eyes, pushing the sheer curtain aside and taking a shaky step forward. You heard heads turn and a few audible gasps.

When you opened your eyes, everyone had turned to you. Every familiar face, every friend, every stranger.

You caught Courtney’s eye and she looked as if every fiber of her being was on fire. If someone reached out and touched her in that moment, they’d get a 3rd degree burn. She looked like she was trying to strangle you with her eyes.

You flattened your dress once more and looked up, bracing yourself for the look on Luke’s face.

He didn’t look angry or upset, just… confused. And surprised.

You took that as a sign to continue. You softly cleared your throat, speaking directly to the man in front of you. “I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion but you are not the kind of boy… who should be marrying the wrong girl.” There were some shocked whispers and appalled gasps but you ignored them.

You walked forward down the aisle to get a clearer look at Luke and stopped at the stairs. You felt like you were alone with him now and it made it easier. “So don’t say yes, let’s run away now. I’ll meet you when you’re out of the church at the back door. Don’t wait or say a single vow, you need to hear me out.” You looked at him with pleading eyes and for the first time, his facade fell. You saw the glint of relief in his eyes and the slump of his once tense shoulders.

Luke looked around once more at all of the people that had gathered there today for him and knew he needed to make a decision. He turned to look at his friends stationed behind him, and to no surprise, their faces were lit up with pure happiness and relief. He couldn’t help but smile back at them. Calum threw him a thumbs up and Michael mouthed “go with her, dumbass.”

Luke turned back to the audience and spotted his mother in the crowd. He tried to read her expression but when she gave him a soft, curt nod, he knew what he had to do.

He quickly grabbed Courtney’s hands and your face immediately fell. He was going to choose her after all.

Then, he whispered something you didn’t expect. “I'm sorry, Court. This is a mistake, you don’t love me and I don’t love you — you and I both know that. We can’t do this. I have to go.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek quickly as she stood, frozen.

You felt a pang of guilt. But then you remembered that she would get over it and be marrying someone filthy rich by the time she was 25 and didn’t feel so bad anymore.

Luke then turned back to you. He jogged down the steps and pulled you into a hug. It was so silent in the church now, you could hear a pin drop.

He grabbed your shoulders and kissed your forehead. “Let’s run away now, I’ll meet you when I’m out of my tux at the back door.”

You nodded, tears in your eyes, and ran towards the double doors of the church. This was the best decision you had ever made.

You stood in the crisp, chilly air, waiting for Luke to come out of the door on the side of the church. Snow fell on your hair and eyelashes and you reached out a hand to catch some flakes.

In only three minutes he’d managed to change back into his black skinny jeans, looking like himself again. You could’ve cried at the sight.

“Hi,” you said. What else do you say to someone when you just got them to call off a marriage at the alter?

His smile grew and he ran forward, nearly tackling you in a giant hug. His hands found the back of your head and his eyes searched your face, memorizing every feature, worried that at any second, he might wake up from this amazing dream. “So glad you were around when they said speak now.”

taglist (dm or ask to be added!): @theshyspy

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years

Text

Lonely Hearts Club

Seokmin: Chapter 3 (I Wanna Know)

Characters: Seokmin x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, fluff, genocide mentions, runaways, mental illness (depression implied), sexual mentions, crying, mentions of death, mentions of violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: Your girl is in some serious fucking pain but she managed to get another chapter out because she couldn’t sleep! So low and behold, I give you a decent chapter for DK

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀 & ☁️

Lonely Hearts Club Master List

Chapter 3: I Wanna Know

You were in heat for a few more days. Seokmin stayed with you the whole time and took care of… your every need. Though he looked worn out, he didn’t complain once. He liked that you let him help you. And he was hoping now that your heat was over, you’d let him in a bit more.

Your legs felt like jello, your hair looked like a birds nest, your skin was covered in variously healed bruises. You were a mess. But it was still time to go back to the pack. You made a promise and you always followed through with your promises, even if you were in a horny induced daze when you made it. You were just hoping they wouldn’t know, or at least, wouldn’t make a big deal out of what had happened.

Seokmin helped get you back to your feet and get dressed, putting your arms through your tank top and putting you in your shorts one leg at a time. He had already managed to get himself together as he had woken up earlier than you had. He figured you’d be in worse shape than him after everything… everything you’d been through and he wanted to be sure you were as okay as possible before you started your journey back home.

“There we go, all done!” He chirped after finally buttoning the last button on your jean shorts.

He took a step back to look at you. Aside from the bruises, you physically looked pretty normal now that he had helped you tame your ridiculously tangled hair. But he knew the pack was gonna smell you. You smelled like him from the week of animalistic sex sessions you two had been having due to your heat. It was unavoidable. He knew they’d all know you two slept together the second you walked through the door. He just wasn’t sure how you’d react to their inevitable and unavoidable teasing.

You quickly looked down after you had seen your reflection in one of your buckets of water, “I look like a walking disaster.” You muttered.

“It’s not THAT bad…,” He failed miserably at reassuring you, “But it doesn’t matter anyways, we’re mates. It doesn’t matter if we slept together or not. We would have eventually anyways” Seokmin tried to reason, bringing himself to walk up to you and hold your small hands in his large ones hesitantly.

“They’re all gonna make fun of me.” You pouted at him, looking down at your feet and smiling a bit in embarrassment.

You had never really taken the time to look at him before your whole mating fiasco happened. You had done literally everything in your power to avoid him at all costs so you wouldn’t catch feelings for him. But now that you had spent a good portion of time alone with him, you realized just how much bigger than you Seokmin was. He always seemed so… subservient around the pack that you never really gave his physical appearance much thought when it came to size. He must’ve been almost a foot taller than you, and now that you had seen him shirtless and naked, you also knew just how much muscle he actually had. He was MUCH larger than you had thought. Even his feet looked like they could crush yours with one fast stomp.

He held back a giggle at your cuteness before he spoke up, “They won’t make fun of yoooou. Especially because you could EASILY beat most of them to a bloody pulp with your special wolfie powers and all.”

“Aya! They’re not special ‘wolfie powers.’ They’re just my normal powers. And it’s not my fault you guys are more diluted forms than me.” You chuckled, playfully smacking his toned chest with your hand.

He cocked his head to the side at your statement, “Is that how it works? The longer the line the less of a wolf you are?” He asked curiously while bringing the back of your hand up to his lips and giving it a chaste kiss.

You almost laughed out loud at his question before you remembered that he didn’t grow up with other werewolves. He was a bitten wolf, not genetically a wolf. You remembered that Seungcheol had told you that no one in his family had ever been a wolf before him. He probably had no clue how it all worked, especially since his pack wasn’t always the best help when it came to educating each other on important matters. You felt a little guilty for thinking he was just being sort of dumb. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know anything about it. So you held back your little outburst and nodded instead.

“Yeah basically. I mean, most genetic lines now can still obviously transform, but they’re still not…” You tapped your chin with your index finger for a moment while thinking of the correct words to explain what you meant, “As much of a wolf as me.” You decided.

Your mate was watching you intensely, listening to every word you said closely, as if he was learning the most important information he’d ever need to know,“I’m honestly probably more wolf than I am human. But most modern day wolves are more human than wolf, that’s why it’s relatively easy for them to assimilate into human societies and blend in.” You informed him, the both of you gathering the rest of your things and making your way out the cave to the path leading back to the forest.

“But hiding our eyes isn’t always easy!” He interjected with enthusiasm you found oddly cute, “If we get too emotional, the potions disintegrate and our real eye color shows. So it’s not really SUPER simple with us.” Seokmin responded, grabbing your hand closest to him and interlocking your fingers.

For a moment, you wanted to pull away from him and push him for initiating the sudden contact. But you also promised him that you’d give him a chance and that you’d try to be the best mate to him that you could be. Plus, the warmth of his hand felt… kind of nice on yours. So you kept your hands together, giving his fingers an involuntary squeeze that made Seokmin’s face light up.

“I suppose you’re right. But really, as long as a wolf can keep their shit together, they can seem very human. When my people were still around, we were very obviously NOT human. We couldn’t be even if we had tried.” You casually let out, skipping over a large rock in your way.

“What were your people like?” He questioned, genuinely wanting to know what your life was like before you lost everything. His pack had tried to ask you before, but you’d always clam up and make up some excuse to leave the conversations. He was hoping with it just being the two of you, you might actually be okay with sharing some more personal information with him.

You waited a moment before you spoke up. What WERE your people like? It had been so long that you hardly even remembered anythings about them. You usually tried to push away all the thoughts of them because remembering all you lost hurt too much. But when he asked you the question, it was like everything came rushing back to you all at once.

Your family, your tribe, your traditions. You remembered how the tribal elders used to let you sit in on council meetings because your father insisted you needed to know everything there was to know about running the tribe. It made you feel so important when he did that, like you were his pride and joy. You thought about all the times you had sat next to your mom as she cooked up potions and remedies in her old stone cauldron for the healer to use on the sick and injured. She always cared so much about everything and everyone around her, you always loved to help her help people. And you could all but see your 11 big goofball brothers running up to you holding their latest hunting prizes with the most giant toothy grins they could muster. Those dumbasses, they always made the most of life. You missed them so fucking much.

Everything started swirling around your head and it made a huge smile appear on your face with watery eyes at the thought of your early life. Seokmin took notice and felt a bit proud of himself that he had made you that happy, you had never beamed a smile that big before in front of him or his pack.

“My people… they were… they were just-” You paused, “They were just the most amazing family a person could ever ask for.” You started, wiping away a sudden tear that had fallen down the side of your face from the memory of them, hopefully before your mate could notice. Of course, he still saw, but he said nothing because he knew it would upset you.

“They were always just sooooo happy. I remember every night was basically like a huge party. We’d all dance and sing around the campfire, there’d be elders telling stories and offering the young words of wisdom while the parents would scold us for interrupting anytime anything got cool or surprising.” You sadly laughed, “We were all just… one big happy family. Even if I wasn’t actually related to all of them. I can’t really explain the connection I felt to them… it was just as strong as the one I had to my biological family.” You sighed, finally reaching the edge of the forest and finding the proper trail for the both of you to set towards home.

He could hear the pain in your voice as you spoke of your past life. You must’ve really missed them. But there were so many questions he still had. What about your actual family? Did you have brothers or sisters? What kind of life did you have? How did you sleep or eat? Where did you come from? But he knew he shouldn’t ask so many at once, he didn’t want to overwhelm you or hound you with his thoughts all at once. So instead, he asked just one question he knew he should probably know the answer to: “What- What happened to them?”

His words made you halt your movements for a second. Remembering that day wasn’t something you liked to do. In fact, you went to great lengths to avoid the memory. It haunted everything you did. Every minute of everyday was plagued with the thought of their demise. You had nightmares every night. You saw their hallowed faces in every person you met. You smelt ash and burnt flesh more than you smelt anything else. Their screams were still stuck to your mind like gum on the bottom of a shoe. It tore you apart to think of it. But still, you knew he deserved to know. You’d want to know if you were him.

“They were… they were massacred.” You sadly shrugged, biting your lip to keep yourself from letting sobs out. He stroked your hand in his in an effort to soothe your sad soul. You took comfort in his small affectionate touch, it grounded you and pulled your tortured mind back down to the conversation you were having.

You took in a deep breath, “It was just any other day, at least, to me it was,” you gulped before you continued, “I was helping my mom with some new herbal remedies for some of our sick warriors when suddenly we heard this loud BANG. My mom wasn’t a wolf, in fact, back then no female was. Well, no female but me that is, but that’s beside the point,” you shook your head and tried to get yourself back on the topic at hand.

“I could feel the vibration under my feet. It was a cannon, but we didn’t know that then. They weren’t really used in our part of the world, they’d freeze in the cold weather and couldn’t always light at the altitude that my village was set on. But somehow, the Cossacks found a way to make them work… they always found a way…” you stated flatly, looking up to the sky out of respect for your fallen family.

“They were upset that my pack had killed some of their soldiers that had hurt a group of women in a neighboring tribe. So they punished us the only way they knew how: by brutally murdering everyone and setting everything they could on fire. Fire’s one of the few ways Icyan wolves can actually be killed. They killed almost everybody. As far as I know, Cyrus and me were the only ones who got out.” You swallowed back the lump stuck in your throat as you and Seokmin continued onward to your destination.

Now this question really worried him, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted answers to it. But he, again, wanted to know more about you and how you got to him. He’d figure it out eventually, might as well try to get it out of you today while he had you going already.

“Can you- can you tell me a bit about him…?” He almost whispered, afraid to say it any louder as he didn’t want to upset you.

“W-What?” You asked for clarification.

“I- I Wanna Know more about… him… Can you tell me about him?” Seokmin stuttered out. He was still unsure if he should’ve said it to begin with, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know more about the man who had you crying constantly over him.

You turned your head to look at him, “About who? Cyrus?” A bit of fear crossed your face as you attempted to confirm what he asked.

“Y-Yeah. He was your mate. And Jun kind of explained what you told him had happened to him the other day, but I don’t know much about him. Like how you two got out. Or why he died…” He looked you in the eyes and say that tears and immense sadness had began to pool in them, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to! I just figured… that it would be better to get it out in the open now…” Seokmin bit his lip as he waited for your reaction/response.

“Cyrus was… Cyrus. He is- was… my best friend.” You sighed defeatedly out loud before you continued, “He always took care of me. He imprinted on me right after I was born, so he was always there for me.” You started, still trying to find the right words to emphasize what he meant to you. But it was hard, you weren’t very touchy feely like Seokmin was. Feelings were all new to you, so you weren’t sure how to share them aloud.

You didn’t want to upset Seokmin by speaking too fondly about your past mate, but you also couldn’t help the pang in your heart you felt Everytime you heard Cyrus’s name. Part of you wanted to never speak of him again, another part of you wanted to never shut up about him. Your mind was full of conflict but your heart was full of sorrow. How could you possibly ever forget Cyrus enough to have a new mate? How could you ever emphasize how important he was to you when Seokmin, your current lover, was holding your hand? How were you supposed to pick and choose such things when your heart was pleading for a break?

“Wait- he imprinted on you right when you were born? I didn’t know that was possible…” he lost steam towards the end of his sentence and started to mumble while rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Oh no! It wasn’t like that!” You stopped him before he could get any further, “See, Icyan wolves start to shift really soon after birth, like only a month or two after. So it basically means that we’re able to phase our entire life. Cyrus was only five years older than me. He acted like an older brother to me until I hit 16 ish. But that’s when it all went wrong…” You held back a whimper that was threatening to spill past your lips.

“But the day everyone was killed, my dad and the other wolves came to defend out den. I was hiding in the hut while my mom was trying to do a protection spell. But they had killed most of our warriors already when they tried to save their families. We’re very protective of the ones we love” you sniffled slightly, still trying to hold your emotions back but obviously failing miserably.

“Cyrus came to find me after his family was killed. It was his instinct to protect me first, even though he loved his parents, they had each other still. And I was his mate, that’s how we work, mates and children before anyone else. He came into our home and tried to comfort me. We all thought we were gonna die. They had already killed my brothers by the river bank, it broke my parents. They saw red. But they knew I was still alive. So, before the Russians stormed our hut, my dad told Cyrus to take me and run as far as possible for as long as possible, so he did. After that, we were alone, but we had each other. It was like that for a few years. But then… I turned 16 and everything went to hell.” Your lip trembled and quivered with guilt.

Your current mate whined at your sadness, he wanted to help you, but he knew there was nothing he could say or do to make you feel better. So he just kept rubbing the back of your petite hand and giving you his full undivided attention. You had heard his whine, but you knew it was just because you were upset, so you gave him a small depressed smile before you kept speaking.

“Well you know that he- well that he’s obviously dead. Otherwise we couldn’t have imprinted on each other. But I’m sure you want to know… why he died” you mustered up all the courage you could before finally explaining it all to him, “He saved me. I fucked up. I was spotted by some towns people and he took the fall so they wouldn’t take me instead. Our wolf forms were similar. All Icyan wolves are white, we can just have different patterns to us. The villager that spotted me didn’t see the black spot on my head, he just saw a huge white wolf. They followed me back to our den and they were met with him. He refused to let me go. He was a telepath and he was an alpha. He ordered me to hide and he told me he loved me before he gave himself up to the angry mob.” You stopped walking and let the tears brimming your eyes freely fall.

Seokmin stood in front of you playing with your hair sweetly, trying to give you something to ground yourself and distract you from your heartache. It killed him to see you that way.

“I couldn’t- I couldn’t refuse his order. He was- he was my alpha. So I had to stay and watch them take him back to their town. I left after that to try and find him, he never told me that I couldn’t. But by the time I got there- they- they-” you sobbed out while bringing your shakey hands to your face, “They had already started torturing him. There had been reports of two huge wolves in the area and they thought he would lead them to me if they hurt him enough. But he never did.” Seokmin pulled you into his chest as you cried, barely able to breathe as you convulsed into loud whimpers and wails.

“I- I felt everything. Every cut they made, every punch, every hit. Because I’m of my shaman bloodline, I felt everything he felt, I- I’m an empath. He figured out I was in the crowd and just kept telling me that he loved me telepathically. That it wasn’t my fault. But- But how could it not be- be my fault?” You stuttered as you gripped onto Seokmin’s shirt for dear life, “I got him killed!” You all but screamed, crying into your mate’s chest so hard he was worried you’d pass out.

Seokmin just let you cry. He couldn’t imagine the guilt and pain you must have been feeling. He just held you and shushed you and told you that everything would be okay. But how could you be okay? You lost everyone in the most awful ways possible. No wonder you didn’t want him around before. If he were you, he wouldn’t either. He wouldn’t have wanted to risk losing MORE people.

He knew you thought it was your fault, but it wasn’t. If the roles were reversed, he knew you would’ve done the same thing as Cyrus. Just like he always knew that if push came to shove, he’d do the same exact thing your past mate had done to save you. You were his whole world, he’d never let anything or anybody hurt you if he could help it. He’d defend you with his very last breath if it meant you got even a second longer to live.

After a while, your breathing evened out and your sobs became just tears. Seokmin pulled you back up from his torso to look you in the glistening eyes. He quickly wiped away any water that had streamed down your face in the process. He really wanted to just kiss all your tears away, but now wasn’t the time for that.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N). I wish I could take away your pain. But I can’t. The best I can do is promise you that I’ll always be here for you.” He assured you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears.

“Even if I start crying over my dead mate?” You tried to sound sarcastic, but you honestly felt too weak to. It probably came out as more of a whine to him.

“Even if you start crying over him. Or if you miss him. Or even if you just want to talk about him. Or any of them. It’s okay. I understand and I’m here for you, no matter what.” He pecked your nose softly and gave you the most loving eyes you had ever seen.

You couldn’t help but pull him into a sweet, thankful kiss, attempting to show him how grateful you were for him with your actions rather than your words that always seemed to fail you. Once you pulled back, you realized just how tired you were. Seokmin seemed to pick up on it to because, suddenly, you were in his arms being carried through the woods bridal style. You gave him a look of uncertainty, he just nodded at you and gave you a loving smile, signaling that he would be okay to walk back the rest of the way to the house with you in his arms.

You wanted to protest it all for his sake, but your eyelids felt too heavy. So instead, you just snuggled your now swollen face into his chest and let the darkness take over, feeling safe in his arms and knowing he would never let anything bad happen to you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe everything would be okay.

(Updated 9/17)

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