#extremely cursed terror posting

[horror-aesthete]

#horror aesthetic #personal #francis crozier #james fitzjames #fitzier #amc the terror #the terror #extremely cursed terror posting #horror movie memes #hi i made myself sad

[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin || KTH || Masterpost

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: Of Ruin

Status: complete - all chapters now posted

WC: 85k total, 16 chapters

Rating: NSFW - minors DNI

Pairing: KTH x reader || platonic Namjoon x reader friendship!

Genre: supernatural!au royalty!au magic!au || s2l || angst fluff smut trifecta 

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

Warnings: language, casual drinking, lots of vampire warnings such as scary situations, vampires hunting/biting/feeding/killing, magic and magical fighting, magical world politics, eventual smut but not a lot dont expect too much, EXTREMELY slow burn even for me DONT SAY I DIDNT WARN YOU, chapters will have individual warnings

Author’s Note: Although the worlds, rules, characterizations, and plot are very extremely different, I have to say that I was inspired to write this after reading @/kth1fics Black Ravens series. Thank you to Maggie for being so gracious when I asked if she’d be okay with me trying a vamp!tae fic of my own.

Big thank you to @sailoryooons for the quick, thorough, and masterful beta job, and for letting me ask questions, shout and scream, and send endless screenshots as I worked on this for the last six months! Thank you also to @eoieopda, @jeonqkooks, and @yoongiphoria for accepting an ungodly number of screenshots as well. There would be no fic without y'all, I mean it!

Series Teaser:

He’s on you in an instant, so quickly you don’t see him move. Your back hits the wall behind you and you let out an audible grunt.

He sniffs at you, fangs displayed and ready. Your heart pounds desperately, and beneath his inhumanly strong hold, your muscles shake. Your body knows you are about to die, even if your mind still wants to lie to you about it.

He laves at a spot near the base of your neck, giving a happy hum as your pulse thunders against his tongue. You close your eyes, feeling your whole body shudder in terror.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, eyelids fluttering.

Chapter 1 || wc: 5.7k

Chapter 2 || wc: 5.9k

Chapter 3 || wc: 5.1k

Chapter 4 || wc: 5.5k

Chapter 5 || wc: 4.6

Chapter 6 || wc: 6k

Chapter 7 || wc: 5k

Chapter 8 || wc: 4.8k

Chapter 9 || wc: 4.3k

Chapter 10 || wc: 5.2k

Chapter 11 || wc: 4.7k

Chapter 12 || wc: 4.8k

Chapter 13 || wc: 6k

Chapter 14 || wc: 6.3k

Chapter 15 || wc: 5k

Chapter 16 || wc: 5.1k

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts supernatural au #bts royal au #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #kim taehyung fic #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung angst #supernatural au #royal au #fic: of ruin #s2l #magic au

[bvidzsoo]

Darkness prevails

᯽ Author: bvidzsoo

᯽ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

᯽ Warning: suggestive, cursing, violence (lots of it), maiming/marking, extreme possessiveness, manhandling, blood, beheading, death, dubious consent, morally grey subjects (you'll see what I mean, but I promise nothing like that actually happens), let me know if I forgot something cries

᯽ Word count: 25.6k

᯽ Genre: Fantasy, Royal, Dark Romance, Gore

᯽ Summary: King Jeong Yunho, first of his name, was a ruler everybody feared and nobody dared mess with. Anyone who didn't oblige to his laws, suffered the consequences. Perhaps stealing an apple seemed like a misstep that many would've overlooked, but not Jeong Yunho. Go against the laws: get punished, branded, humiliated, forever outcasted by society, and the King himself. Unfortunately, you were way too familiar with the King's tyranny, having been the subject of his torture more than once. But what happens, when once and for all, Prince San, his brother, finally decides to get rid of the cruel monarch? Will you succeed with your mission? Will you kill King Jeong Yunho? Or will he wrap you up even deeper in his sick web of lies and threats.

᯽ A/N: My wrists are about to fall off and my eyes are dry despite the eye drops I'm using, but here it is my lovelies, the first part of the Beyond the Obscure series! Guys...it's dark, I'm sorry, so yeah, take the warnings seriously, I promise I haven't written them very in detail (imo) but they are there. I think this is my darkest work so far (even worse than San's part in my pirate series) and y'all have no idea what I have planned for Seonghwa and Yeosang's part (clawing at the wall because that one will be even worse NAUR). I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading:

∞ Yunho is continuously mentioned as the King in the story or Your Grace

∞ perhaps keeping in mind the interaction between Mingi and the redhead will come in handy for future purposes *wink wonk*

∞ I hope I did a good job with this story, and I'm sorry if it sucks, I really tried to tackle this beast of a piece...and sorry for any mistakes, I always proofread but some just slip past me *sighs*

Enjoy the story and let me know what you thought of it, I'm always so grateful to all the feedback I get!! Taglist is open, so just comment on the post if you're interested in the future parts (check out the series' masterlist too to understand how the series works, thank you!) (divider)

᯽ Taglist: @seonghwaddict @thunderous-wolf @simpforyunsangho @kitten4sannie

─═☆Series M.list☆═─

            At such an ungodly hour no lady was supposed to be roaming the streets alone, unguarded, exposed to the horrors of the slums. But some ladies had no other choice but to do so if they wanted to survive, to see tomorrow’s sunrise. Not that there was anything to anticipate or love in the Kingdom of the Fallen, ruled by a ruthless and malicious King, who slayed his people left and right whenever he pleased to do so. And perhaps that’s what ebbed me on to keep on walking, made me straighten my back to the point my muscles were straining as I made sure to become one with the shadows as I passed by the long fallen asleep households, headed towards the outskirts of our well-guarded burgh of Aurora. Don’t let it fool you, despite its name, there was nothing beautiful nor welcoming to this place, only terror, fear, and darkness. Our King made sure of that.

I tried to ignore the trembling of my fingers, but it became harder and harder to do so the closer I got to the well-concealed mansion. Large trees loomed over the gravel pathway that led to its enormous marble stairs, not one light was on inside. One would think the mansion was abandoned, but as soon as you stepped foot inside, its well-maintained state gave away the truth. Perspiration had started gathering on my brows, and I realized that underneath my pricey leather glove the skin of my right hand had started itching, begging to be scratched, but I knew doing so would cause my freshly healed wound to open up again. That wound was something I would have to live with forever, maimed, tainted for life. Marked for a wrong doing that cost the life of my little brother. It was hard not to blame or hate yourself when your sickly brother died in his sleep after you failed showing up for three days, begging and screaming to be let out of the dungeons of the wretched Castle, but my pleas fell to deaf ears, unsurprisingly.

King Jeong Yunho didn’t care about his people, and he never would. Famish and crime were at its peak despite the harsh punishments and executions. Despite the King having ears and eyes everywhere, some people managed to get away, escape unscathed, and one of those people just so happened to be Choi San, the crown prince. He fled the night his brother killed King Choi, aware that he would be next to suffer the same faith as their beloved father if he stood in his older brother’s way. Nobody really knew where Prince San went, but upon seeing his most trusted servant and Royal Guard, Sir Jung Wooyoung, around town, it became obvious that Prince San and Sir Jung were still lurking around. And despite what it seemed like, despite King Jeong being awful and vicious, Prince Choi wasn’t like him. He loved his people, he mourned with his people, he laughed with his people, and he lived for his people. Many hated him for disappearing, thinking he had abandoned us and was letting his older brother do however he wished, but many failed to understand that Prince San was powerless if it came down to a war between the brothers. Prince San didn’t have enough men to fight back against King Jeong’s tyranny. And that’s when I was summoned. Barely a day ago, a black envelope with a crown stamp on it had been slipped in my pouch without me noticing. Having opened it, I was rather surprised to find myself being summoned to the abandoned mansion, which belonged to the Royal family, on the outskirts of the burgh.

And when a royalty summoned you, you showed up without asking questions or making them wait too long. The roads were drenched in darkness, mist surrounding the narrow cobblestone streets, and smog escaped my mouth as little puffs left through my lips, heart beating even faster now that I stood in front of the dark mansion. I never fully showed my face in public, but being well past midnight without another soul out on the streets of Aurora, I offered myself the luxury of breathing in the chilly air of the night.  The moon was in waxing crescent, and averting my eyes from it, I stared up at the massive mansion and steeled my nerves, pushing away all the swirling thoughts threatening to turn me back around just to run off in the night, far away from Aurora. But even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. And even if I ran, the King’s men would find me and bring me back. I never had a choice, nor the freedom to indulge in my dreams and wishes. So, I took a deep breath, fixed the sheer scarf around the lower half of my face, and ascended the marble stairs with chills running down my spine due to the biting cold. It felt like it had seeped through my clothes, nagging at my skin, injected straight into my bones. But if I dwelled more on this feeling, I knew it was mostly the fear spreading through my blood system that made me react so strongly. And there was no place for fear tonight.

When I reached my hand out to push the front door of the mansion open, I found it already slightly ajar, beckoning me inside. My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I cautiously ventured inside, closing the heavy door behind myself, needing a second to take in the majesty of the interior of the mansion. The floor and walls alike were covered in white marble, glinting under the moonlight as the large windows had no curtains in the large entrance hall. A sturdy round table sat in the middle of the chamber, a large vase filled to the brim with flowers of all kinds sat on top of the table, in the center of it. There was a sweet scent wafting through the air, and as I ventured further inside, the cold chill present in the entrance hall slowly turned into blush inducing warmth, making me shiver as I finally started feeling my frozen limbs.

I was wandering around mindlessly, having no idea where I was supposed to go as nobody seemed to be waiting for me, my eyes straying to the walls, admiring all the expensive paintings. They were brought from lands far from ours, from a land where life was easier and happier. The Kingdom of Light, much like its name, was ruled by a Queen that loved her nation and thrived to unite the two Kingdoms. However, as long as King Jeong was our monarch, that would never happen. Faint whispers caught my attention as I came towards the end of the hall, a large door separating me from the next room. A huge painting was hung up on the wall to the left of the black door, and my jaw clenched as my eyes fixated on the family portrait, more specifically, on King Jeong Yunho. Despite him looking a lot younger in the photo, the evil glint was still present in his sharp stare, and suddenly the skin of my right hand itched again, prompting me to mindlessly try and scrape at it through the leather glove. But the whispers coming to a sudden halt from inside the room, and the faint yellow glow coming to life through the little gap under the door ripped my attention away from the young King and made me tense up as footsteps neared the door. And then, there was a click and the door was pulled open, an emotionless man, with asymmetrical eyes, stood in front of me, taking me in just as closely as I took him in.

“Sir Jung Wooyoung.” I bowed my head, keeping my eyes on the marble floor until the man made a sound of approval.

“You have arrived,” He said, voice sharp and impassive, “Come inside.”

The door was further pulled open and as Jung Wooyoung stepped aside, I stepped forward, hands clenching into fists as I tried to fight the desperate need to turn around and just run. Far away from here, from the crown prince and his loyal guard, far from Aurora. But the King would always find me, and he’d bring me back, matter not if dead or alive, he’d bring me back.

As the door slammed heavily shut behind me, I fought the need to jump at the loud sound, and instead made eye contact with the crown prince. He sat in a large chair, straight across from me, at a round table. The table was massive and could fit at least twenty men if gathered around it, but now, it was just Prince Choi, Sir Jung, and myself in the room. The blackout curtains were drawn together, its color a blood red, shutting out the gentle moonlight, masking whatever would go down in this room from the celestial. Nobody had to know what would conspire in this room soon.

“Your Highness,” I bowed forward, keeping my eyes on the carpeted floor as a low hum traveled through the otherwise quiet room, “you have called for me.”

“I have, yes.” Prince San’s voice was low, and quiet, his sharp eyes narrowed as I straightened back up. We made eye contact as there was movement behind me, Sir Jung walked past me and came to a stop behind Prince San, placing a hand on the chair’s back, grip tightening instantly, “Do you have any idea why?”

“I do not have the power to assume anything.” I answered, eyes quickly seizing the room I was in. It wasn’t awfully big, like the rest of the mansion, and it was a lot less warm in here. Bookshelves aligned the tall walls behind the prince and his guard, and a comfortable sofa was pushed up against the left wall, drenched in shadows as the candlelight didn’t reach there.

“You may speak freely with me, Miss Hong, I am not my brother.” Prince San said, teeth gritting at the mention of King Jeong, “And I do not wish to be ever like that, which is why I have called you here.”

“Don’t you deem it dangerous, Your Highness, calling me here?” I quirked an eyebrow and walked further inside, approaching the table, “King Jeong knows you are still residing in Aurora, and now you’ve given your location away to a mere civilian.”

“Are you threating the crown prince right now?” Jung Wooyoung’s voice was rough and words biting as he leashed out, vein close to popping on his forehead, eyes ablaze. He looked menacing, especially with the long sword sheathed at his hip, handle hidden by the red wool jacket decorated with golden accents falling over it.

“Wooyoung,” It was strange how soft the prince’s voice became, eyes finding the guard’s, “she’s not the enemy. You don’t have to be so on edge.”

“How do you know?” Sir Jung hissed back, eyes still on me, glaring me down. I gulped, but didn’t look away. I didn’t want them to think I was scared, even if I was.

“Miss Hong,” The prince’s attention was back on me, expression losing its coldness for a second, “May I ask you show us your hand?”

My jaw clenched as I remained silent, heart thumping fast. I wanted to tell him no, that he had no right asking such thing of me, but I couldn’t deny the crown prince’s request. And despite detesting what I had to do, with shaky fingers, I still ripped the leather glove off my hand, breathing hard as I threw the piece of fabric on the table, letting my arms fall limply next to my body. Nobody said anything nor moved for a few seconds, Sir Jung’s gaze hurriedly falling onto my exposed right hand. The room was poorly lit, yet it wasn’t hard to miss the discoloration on the top of my right hand, the skin raw and burgundy despite the long-healed wound. It was just a scar now, yet it remained fresh looking, forever a reminder of who I belonged to.

“You don’t have to trust me,” I found my voice, and perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear myself sounding so cold and harsh, “but you can trust one thing. I, in no universe, serve King Jeong Yunho. And I never will. If the scar isn’t proof enough, send me out to kill him, and I will do it with a smile on my face.”

I didn’t expect any reaction from the two males across from me, and so it surprised me when the two held matching smirks, sharing a quick look before Jung Wooyoung slowly approached me again. My eyes stayed on him, and I flinched as he gingerly grasped my right hand, raising it up. I couldn’t bear looking at the skin, so I looked at Prince San instead.

“I’m sorry for what my brother has done to you.” And his words were sincere, there was pain in Prince San’s eyes, and I knew he was sincere. I don’t know why, but despite Jung Wooyoung’s calloused hands, the way he traced my scar with the tip of his finger gingerly, made me relax a little. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me the second I approached the front door of the mansion.

“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s out of your control, Your Highness.” I muttered, looking at Wooyoung alarmed when he pressed his lips against my scar, the warm and plush skin lingering against mine for a second. Nobody has every touched my scar, let alone kissed it. When Sir Jung looked at me, he held the same guilt and pain in his eyes as Prince San. It was overwhelming, and so I ripped my hand out of Sir Jung’s gentle hold, and scurried to wear my glove again. I didn’t need their pity, what’s done is done.

“How many times has that devil seen you?” It was Sir Jung asking this time as he slowly stalked back towards Prince San, stopping next to his chair this time. I didn’t fail to notice the way the crown prince grabbed onto the back of his royal guard’s thigh, thick fingers digging into Sir Jung’s skin. They seemed used to the contact, both unphased, so I averted my gaze from it.

“Twice.” I answered, lowering the sheer black scarf from the lower half of my face, “I always wear my scarf in public.”

“And do you think he’d recognize you if he were to see you again?” Prince San asked, his hand slowly sneaking up towards Sir Jung’s ass. My eyebrows furrowed before I shook my head.

“No, he never got a good look at my face the second time, and I was branded three years ago.” I answered truthfully, “There’s not a world in which the King remembers the faces of those he torments.”

“You’re underestimating my brother,” Prince San’s lips pulled into a sneer, “he’s a sadistic man, Miss Hong, you’d be horrified to find out just how much he remembers and gets off to.”

I gulped, but remained silent as Sir Jung bit his lower lip when Prince San’s hand traveled even further up. There was movement to my left, but when I looked over to the sofa, I couldn’t see anything, so I focused on the males again.

“Are you willing to kill him?” Jung Wooyoung seemed to have gotten tired of going around and not getting to the point as he spat, eyes watching me closely. I didn’t hesitate with my answer.

“Yes.” I hissed, eyes turning steely as Sir Jung just smirked, leaning forward as he placed his hands on the sturdy table.

“Then I, Jung Wooyoung, Royal Guard of the Crown Prince Choi San, third of his name, task you with killing King Jeong Yunho, and ridding this Kingdom of his cruelty and horrors.” Sir Jung’s voice was laced with passion, eyes burning with an insatiable fire as Prince San rose from his seat, his strong physique making Jung Wooyoung look small for the first time.

“I promise you immunity and a respectable life once you’re done with your task. You won’t be suffering any consequences, and I will fulfill your biggest wish.” I chuckled, but it lacked humor as my eyes bore into the prince’s.

“I doubt you can bring back the dead, Your Highness.” Tense silence fell upon us, both looking like they understood what it meant losing someone dear. And if Prince San was being honest, then this would be my way out of Aurora, out of the Kingdom of the Fallen, “I shall proceed with the task, Your Highness, Sir Jung. Give me at least a month.”

“You can take even a year as long as you do your task.” Prince San said with a chuckle, looking like a stone had been lifted off his chest.

“Don’t fail us, Miss Hong.” Sir Jung didn’t let his guard down as easily as the prince, however, and the subtle look he sent my way was threatening. I understood. Failing meant death. But I wouldn’t let that happen.

“I won’t.” My voice was strong and I bowed, out of respect and a way of letting them know that I would be leaving now, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.

“Take care, and send us a letter if you need anything,” Prince San smiled, just barely, “I will be keeping an eye on you still, just to make sure you’re safe and everything is working out.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” I bowed my head again, and was slightly startled when a girl, who was smaller than myself and frail looking, emerged from the sofa. How did she manage to conceal herself so well? She looked shy as she avoided looking at me, eyes fixated on Sir Jung as she hurried towards him, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Safe travels.” The prince’s voice carried over the faint whispers of Sir Jung as I turned and stalked towards the door, intrigued by the gasp I heard. I gripped the heavy door and as I went to push it open, I dared a glance backwards, finding the girl seated where Prince San had been previously sat, her eyes round as she stared up at a smirking Jung Wooyoung. And Choi San sported the same expression as he walked behind her, hands slowly slipping over her shoulders, towards her chest. I didn’t want to witness something that wasn’t for my eyes, so I hurriedly fled the room and then the mansion altogether, mind a mess as I tried to work out the best plan to approach the King, and kill him. The waxing crescent moon witness to my new turmoil.

            The streets of the burgh of Aurora in the daytime were a big contrast compared to its nighttime shenanigans. It was lively and filled with people going on and about their day, trying to catch the last paper at the printing house, buying resources or selling their best products at the market. Despite the wind being harsh today, it didn’t deter people from coming out to bargain, with the occasional fight breaking out in the square, rowdy men desperate to showcase who was most domineering. I remained inconspicuous as I stood behind the stand of a herbal stall, the vendor a very lovely old lady that would let me work for her while my brother was still alive. I rarely came to the market anymore, having found different ways for survival. Perhaps I was dumb for testing my luck day after day, but three years ago, I lost the reason I had been living for. And on that same day I was branded, forever belonging to King Jeong Yunho. I wasn’t afraid of death anymore; it was only a matter of time until it would catch up to me. Stealing and getting caught only resulted in a severed hand, I would still have my other one if King Jeong felt generous that day. But in order to observe the King and follow through with the task Prince San had tasked me with, I needed to be in the most populated areas, areas which the King often frequented. And the market and square were those places. The King would parade around every day with his Royal Guards, surveying the place and taking anything he liked without as much as a ‘thank you’. Everything belonged to him, he could take whatever he pleased without any consequence. It was something we had grown familiar with quite soon after he proclaimed himself the new King of the Kingdom of the Fallen. It was no secret that Jeong Yunho killed his own father to become King much faster, to assert a regime that his father, the late King Choi, would have absolutely hated and refuted. But as long as Prince Choi San was alive, there would always be a glimmer of hope for better times. Times that would perhaps come sooner than expected if I was successful with my mission.

I had been arranging the spearmint when an old lady stopped in front of the stand, leaning on a cane, face wrinkly, her sniffing loud as she stared at all the herbs displayed on the wooden table. It was cold today, yet the old lady lacked a coat that would protect her from the harsh wind. My eyebrows furrowed, and after checking that my black shawl was in place and covering the lower half of my face, I stepped forward.

“Good morning,” I greeted the lady with an easy smile, “How may I help you?”

Her eyes slowly travelled up to my face, and I was greeted with an unfortunate sight. Her eyes were clouded with cataracts, yet they fell perfectly on my own eyes, “Dear one, please help me out a little.”

Her voice was raspy and airy, so I nodded and went around the stand to approach her, the cacophony of the market too loud for her to properly hear me.

“What would you like to buy?” I asked once I have stopped next to the lady, her grey eyes focused on the herbs.

“I’m too old for my own good,” The old lady muttered with a sad chuckle, “my joints aren’t in their best shape. Do you have something to soothe the ache? Something strong and efficient.”

I hummed and glanced at the wooden table, knowing very well what would help ease the old lady’s pain a little, “Nettle will be great for your painful joints, ma’am. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.” She nodded, eyes falling on me again, “Could you give me five leaves? That wouldn’t be more than two shillings, right?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” I reassured her with a smile as I walked back behind the stand and crouched down to grab a smaller brown parchment roll. I stood and grabbed five leaves as the loudness of the market seemed to get even louder at once, until it slowly started turning into a low murmur, becoming a mere hum. I paid it no mind as I carefully packed the nettle leaves the old lady asked for, slipping in three more without anyone noticing, before I wrapped the parchment up, making sure the leaves wouldn’t slip out, “It’ll be one shilling, ma’am.”

Despite speaking softly, my voice sounded almost too loud in the sinister silence falling upon the market, and it took me a little to realize what was happening. The old lady seemed unfocused as she had turned around, stepping back to the point she was almost pressed up fully against the wooden table of the stand. Nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. My hands clenched into fists and my leather gloves crunched at the motion, almost too loud in the deafening silence. The hooves of the horses were loud against the cobblestones and the crowd parted in the middle, scurrying to make way for the King and his Royal Guards. Despite not wanting to see them, I couldn’t help but turn my head and watch like the rest of the market, as the tall black horse rode at the front, a Friesian, carrying the King proudly on his back. Nobody would’ve been able to guess the horrors caused by the soft featured King, whose cheeks were full and tinged red due to the cold air, lips full and a dark red, eyes rather round than sharp. And yet, the emotionless expression on his face and the constant leer present on his features would make anyone reconsider their perception of the King, cowering in fear as his dark eyes would settle on you, lips pulling up in pleased smugness at the blatant fear displayed by his people. Everybody hated him, yet nobody was brave enough to finally stand up to him.

Four guards followed after him, a man with silver blonde hair and a towering height that matched the King’s following close behind with his own horse on the King’s right side, with his left side being claimed by a long-haired redhead, with eyes so haunting that they always stared right into your soul. Those two were the King’s Royal Guards, always by his side, his right hands. The King went nowhere without the two, and the silver blonde haired man was like a hound, always breathing down the King’s neck, possessive and murderous at the slightest hint of threat. One would think his obsessive behavior was concerning, but he took his job too seriously, having vowed his life to the King a long time ago. The woman wasn’t much better, but she at least was sly and coy about it, always surveying everyone and everything, sensing danger before it would happen.

The King and his guards passed by the herbal stall, and the poor old lady jumped and covered her eyes as she hung her head low, making sure she didn’t look at the King for too long. Nobody dared look at him for more than a few seconds, afraid that he’d misunderstand their curious stare and sentence them to a painful death. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But I wasn’t scared of death nor the King, and I allowed my eyes to follow his form as he came to a halt just a few stands down, where a loose-mouthed man sold jewelry. They were one of the finest you could find at the market, pricey too if you weren’t on good terms with him. I watched as the silver blonde haired guard got off his horse the second the King’s stopped, and hurried to stand next to the tall Friesian as King Jeong released the reigns, turning his head left and right slowly. The redhead followed close behind, stopping mere millimeters behind the tall guard, the two sharing a sharp glance as the male extended his hand to help the King down. The other two older guards remained on their horses, eyes surveying the market as their faces remained emotionless. I glared at the back of the King’s head sharply, his blood red gown decorated with golden accents too bright and contrasting against his otherwise black attire. His black riding breeches were tucked inside his tall riding boots, covering and protecting the King’s calves, reaching almost up to his knees, the fabric of the pants no doubt worth more than everything I’ve ever owned altogether. A thick looking black shirt clung to his broad body tightly, top buttons threatening to pop as the King rolled his shoulders a few times backwards, patting the silver blonde haired man on the back a little forcefully. The guard adorned a coat that reached mid-thigh, colors similar to the King’s, however his was rather black than red and it was adorned with red and golden accents showing his rank, and that he belonged to the Jeong Royal Court. The redhead’s coat reached down to her ankles and had intricate designs of red and golden down the back of the fabric, hair tucked under the coat.

The King moved, and I found my eyes fixating on him again, sneering to myself as he walked towards the vendor with the gemstones and jewelry. My body reacted instantly at the sight of his right hand, memory burned into my skin, quite literally, for the rest of my counted days. The King’s left hand was protected from the cold with a glove that looked like it was a soft material, however, his right hand was bare of such protection. Instead, his right hand was adorned by rings, claws, that I still could feel in my worst nightmares pressing into my skin. They were made of steel, and they were sharp, the jewelry on his fore- and middle finger sharp to the point they could cut your flesh. The ornaments clung to his long fingers like they were his second skin, part of him. The ring on his middle finger adorned a huge ruby, an addition to the piece made by King Jeong himself. His ring finger was decorated by a ring that curved to the side, caging his pinky finger in as well, which was decorated by a piece that could be compared to a miniature spear. The King’s right hand was a weapon in its own, easily able to stab and kill you just with his bare fingers. The ornaments were a family heirloom, one that only the King was allowed to wear, yet they haven’t been this sharp until they fell into the claws of Jeong Yunho. Their intricate design made them beautiful, but they carried too much terror with them for one to appreciate their beauty.

My eyes snapped up from his hand upon hearing his voice, a sound I still had nightmares about, “Chwe, did the gems arrive?”

“Your Grace,” The vendor called Chwe Hansol quickly bowed his head deeply, “yes, the gems have arrived this morning.”

“Perfect.” The King’s lips pulled to the side, the smirk making his whole demeanor more predatory. Despite only being able to see the side of his face, I knew he had a hungry glint in his eyes as the vendor grabbed a small wooden chest and opened it for the King. The redhead had started walking around while still remaining close to the King, inspecting the items the neighboring vendors of Mr. Chwe had. Everyone was tense as the King wordlessly grabbed the gemstones and inspected them from close, face becoming devoid of emotion again, eyebrows pulling into a frown slowly. I was sneering before he spoke up, well-aware that nothing would please the King, no matter how high quality it was.

“You call this a gem?” The King scoffed, irritation lacing his voice as he threw the gemstones back inside the little wooden chest harshly. Nobody would’ve handled the pricey gems like that, but when you had all the power and money in the world, one wouldn’t care, Jeong Yunho certainly didn’t. I couldn’t help the dark expression that crossed my face, eyes boring into the side of the King’s face, wondering suddenly that if I were to throw my dagger straight into his neck, how many more seconds I’d have left on this Earth before his loyal dogs would murder me in cold blood. Scarily, almost as if the silver blonde haired man was a mind reader, his head whipped around and his sharp eyes found mine, small eyes narrowing and making them appear even smaller. His impassive expression would’ve been nerve wrecking to one that appreciated their life, but I didn’t care for my safety. I had nothing left for me in this world anymore. The redhead was still roaming around, commenting at times about the quality of products, and she took a scarf without dropping any shillings to the poor vendor, her face twisting for a second before she fixed it and thanked the redhead for appreciating her merch.

“Your Grace,” Mr. Chwe found his voice, yet it sounded terrified, “These are from the Kingdom of Light, finest of its kind and most sought after—”

“Are you saying that I am stupid and can’t recognize real gemstones?” The King spat, leaning over the stand, his glaring eyes boring into the vendor’s. The man started to shake, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from interfering. If I got killed right now, I would fail the crown prince, and I couldn’t do that.

“No—no, Your Grace!” The vendor exclaimed, shaking his head furiously, “Your Grace knows better than I will ever know! I was merely say—saying what has been relayed to myself as well, Your Grace. I am ashamed of ever suggesting such thing, and I will never show my face around—”

“Now, now,” The King snickered, lips pulled into an amused, yet irritated, smirk, “don’t be a yapping little boy, are you going to cry?”

My jaw clenched and I found myself gripping onto my skirt tightly, breaths coming out shallow as the silver blonde haired man was still staring into my soul, watching my every move. His lips were pulled into a sneer, and I didn’t fail to notice his hand tightening around the handle of his sword.

“N—no, Your Grace.” Mr. Chwe lowered his eyes and shook his head, lips pulled into a thin line as his whole being shook, “Unless it’s what Your Grace wants me to do—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” The King threw his head back and laughed, yet it lacked amusement and was laced with sheer craze, the sound sending shivers down my spine, “You’d cry for your King?”

Mr. Chwe’s head was shaking as he nodded, still staring at the ground. The King suddenly hissed and I almost took off towards the two as his right hand sprung forward, gripping the vendor’s jaw so hard his claws practically tore into his skin. The man’s face contorted in pain, yet he made no sound except the quiet gasp he accidentally let out, “Then cry for me, you pathetic fool.”

The King leered in the vendor’s face, tone laced with venom, eyes wide as Mr. Chwe watched the King stunned. I bit my lower lip as my eyes switched between the King and his royal guard, whose stare would have long killed me if that were possible. I knew what my eyes conveyed, they were laced with pure hatred and disdain, boring into the King’s profile as my hands shook in anger, threatening to bubble over any time. I was playing a dangerous game; I knew the shawl did little to nothing to conceal my raw emotions pulsating through my eyes.

“Bastards like yourself shouldn’t handle gemstones.” The King hissed just as the silver blonde haired man took off, jaw clenched and eyes set on me, ablaze. I have run out of luck, so it seems. But before he could even come close to the stall I was at, the King’s venomous tone turned to a light and almost airy tone.

“Song Mingi.” It wasn’t a question, nor a chastising, yet the guard froze instantly. His eyes never left my face as the King lazily tuned his head, dark eyes falling on his tall guard. The redhead was by the King’s side instantly, probably thinking that her fellow guardian sensed danger, ready to protect her King. The market seemed frozen in time as nobody spoke or moved, wide eyes now switching between the royal guard, Song Mingi, and myself. For a second, my heart skipped a beat thinking that I have been discovered, recognized, my right hand burning under the leather glove. But as the King’s eyes slowly trailed from his guard onto me, there was no sign of recognition on his face. I gulped, not due to nervousness, but because my throat suddenly felt dry, lungs tightening as the King’s dark eyes burned my skin, tearing me apart. The memory was too vivid in my mind despite it happening three years ago, and I realized that even if I tried my best, I wouldn’t be able to mask my hatred towards Jeong Yunho. But perhaps he was so used to that reaction that he didn’t care anymore as a sinister smile suddenly tugged at his red lips, hastily releasing Mr. Chwe, who fell back with a loud gasp. The King slowly stalked towards his loyal guard, yet his eyes never once left my face, amused smirk tugging at his lips. He was amused at the blatant hatred in my eyes, and I had to steel myself to stop the shaking of my hands at the sudden flare of anger I felt coursing through my veins.

“Stand down.” The King hissed in the guard’s ear as he walked past him, sharp claws grazing against the other tall man’s neck, but he didn’t flinch nor react at the contact. My eyes remained on the King as he neared the stand I stood at, the poor old lady gasping and stepping away with a low bow, probably bad for her already hurting and crooked back. I dared say nothing as Jeong Yunho stopped right across me, the table suddenly not enough to put the much-needed space between us. It felt like he had invaded my personal space, dark eyes boring into mine, narrowing into a blazing glare when I didn’t back down. Everyone cowered before the King, and just last minute, to try to make myself seem less suspicious, I finally lowered my eyes at the various herbs on the table, but I refused to bow. The King chuckled, but it sounded more vexed than amused. I didn’t care.

“Mingi,” He called out, voice low and dark, “grab those gemstones for me, will you?”

I didn’t glance up as I heard Mr. Chwe whimper and mutter apologies, a sharp cry leaving his lips. I could only hope the wound the King’s royal guard left wouldn’t be fatal. The King’s gloved hand suddenly entered my vision as he started touching the herbs displayed on the table, humming lowly in the back of the throat. I followed his hand with my eyes, jaw clenching when he scoffed, probably not satisfied by the scarce display of herbs. Of course, it couldn’t be compared to what he was aided with at the Castle, yet that was a thought Jeong Yunho wouldn’t be able to wrap his mind around.

“You’re running low on spearmint, little dove.” His velvety voice was mocking, and I felt his sharp gaze on my face as I gulped down the retort I had in mind, and slowly looked up.

“I will stock up on them today, Your Grace.” I couldn’t help but allow my tone to turn venomous when saying his title, “Had I known you were visiting our humble market, I would’ve brought out a wider range of herbs.”

The King chuckled, incredulity crossing his features at the blatant mockery and sarcasm dripping with every word I said, “Can you afford a wider range of herbs?”

“Yes, if those who are taking pay me for my services.” It was dangerous saying such things to the King and so openly, and I couldn’t help but glance at his royal guard as his jaw was clenched, the redhead next to him also throwing daggers my way. But surprisingly, the King just laughed, however, it didn’t sound genuine at all.

“Tell me, little dove, if I really hate a person, would this herb help with getting rid of them?” He cocked an eyebrow as he traced his gloved fingers delicately against a green leaf, slightly bigger than most. It was tucked almost underneath another plant, and I had missed that we had it displayed. It shouldn’t even be there; the plant was dangerous and poisonous even at the softest touch.

“Using a Dieffenbachia would lead to a painful and slow death, Your Grace.” I answered as the King grabbed the leaves with his gloved hand, a crazed grin decorating his lips.

“Nothing more entertaining than a slow and painful death, little dove.” The King whispered, dark eyes boring into mine as a harsh gust of wind blew through the market, pushing the shawl off my head, exposing my dark curls. Thankfully it was tied around my nape and it didn’t fall off my face as well, yet I didn’t miss the way the King’s eyes quickly racked over my newly exposed features.

“If you want them to choke to death, you can let them drink the tea ground from its leaves.” I found myself saying, my tone challenging, wondering where this conversation was leading to. The King bit his lower as he looked down at the leaves, chuckling to himself before placing them back down and holding only one still as he raised his hand up, directing it towards my face. I didn’t flinch away, I didn’t even blink as my eyes bore into Jeong Yunho’s, an intrigued glint in his.

“Would you eat it if your King asked you to?” His tone dropped to a low baritone as he tilted his head to the left, features becoming cold. My jaw clenched, and I fought my instincts of turning around and running away as a chuckle left my lips.

“I would like to know how I have wronged you, Your Grace, that you seem to hate me so much you want my dismay.” I raised an eyebrow, the King’s lips slowly pulling into an amused smirk, eyes widening as he tapped the leaf against the tip of my nose, making my palms ball up into fists at my sides. My heartrate had picked up, but I forced myself to remain calm. He could force it down my throat, of course, and then the whole mission would fail because of me.

“Killing people doesn’t always need to have a reason,” Everything in my screamed to break his face in half, but I just bit my lower lip underneath my shawl and tried to regulate my breaths, “I’ll spare you today, little dove. You could be a green witch instead of wasting your life away here, behind a stand, selling herbs to useless people that have no idea how to use them.”

The King placed the Dieffenbachia leaf back to where it initially was and leaned just slightly forward, his eyes searching mine. I huffed, smiling underneath my shawl sarcastically, tilting my head as I raised my eyebrows at him, “So that you’ll have a reason to kill me because I’m a green witch?”

Not that the King needed an actual reason to kill someone.

“No, I wouldn’t kill you if you were my little green witch, little dove.” His voice darkened just as his face did, eyes turning cold and lips turning into a hungry leer as his eyes took in my face, traveling lower, all over my body. I hated the possessiveness he displayed, even more so because I was his, he just didn’t know it. The scar burned on my hand, and it felt so hot that I almost subconsciously yanked my leather glove off my hand. But if I did that, he’d know, and I’d rather die than let the King know.

Just as I opened my mouth to refute such scenario, his royal guard stepped in, looking completely fed up with the exchange between the two of us as his expression was dark, very clearly fuming while the redhead stood a little behind, smirking at the silver blonde man. We made eye contact for a second, and she subtly nodded her head towards me, prompting me to avert my eyes and look at the King again.

“My King, we should get moving.” Song Mingi’s voice was gruff, low, and raspy as his sharp eyes pierced my skull, “We have what we came for.”

“No need to rush, my Mingi,” The King chuckled, grinning at his guard, “I think we should look around today, make sure everything is as it should be. That everyone respects their duties, and King.”

I smirked as the King threw me a glare, for some obscure reason letting me off the hook despite disrespecting him so clearly and constantly.

“Keep your eyes wide open, little dove,” He sneered, jaw clenching, “you might just fall prey to a big, bad, terrifying hunter.”

I bowed my head deeply in plain mockery as the King hissed, turning around and stalking towards his Friesian. To my surprise, and everyone else’s, the redhead walked up to me and tossed a pouch filled with shillings at my chest, smirking in amusement before she was headed for her own horse. Song Mingi seemed displeased and mad, his shoulder knocked against the redhead’s when they crossed paths, and as he mounted his horse, he threw me such a murderous look that it easily rivalled the King’s. And before anyone could even digest the fact that I just got paid by the King despite him not buying anything from me, the King and his royal guards took off, horses neighing and hoofs loud as they galloped away.

            Despite the sun settling high up in the sky blazing down on Aurora, the mist settled upon the market never quite went away, the mood of people rather gloomy to after the King’s visit. It had been only a few hours since he had waltzed in with his royal guards, yet it felt like mere minutes. The King’s presence was everlasting and blood-curdling, you couldn’t escape it even if he wasn’t there anymore. It shouldn’t have been surprising, upon one glance, he could make anyone cower in fear, even the bravest and strongest soldier. I had gone about my day, selling and conversing amicably with other vendors while making sure I paid attention to the smallest shift in the atmosphere, so, I wasn’t too surprised to hear a spine-chilling scream cut off the conversation I was having with Mr. Chwe. After the King had left, I rushed to his side and patched him up, the cut on his cheek the only damage done to him, thankfully, and it wasn’t too deep either. Song Mingi had been lenient this time, it was rare. But I suppose the King needs its gemstone supplier alive if he plans on importing more treasures at a low, and illegal, price. What the King wanted, he got, no matter whether it was just or wrong.

Everyone froze as more shouting came from the square, and as the horns were blown, my muscles tensed and my stomach dropped. An execution would take place. The air was charged with suspense as everyone seemed to be at a standstill for a second before they started rushing towards the square, vendors leaving their stands unattended, civilians pushing each other aside to reach the square faster. I wasn’t in a rush, but when the King’s royal guards started shouting at everyone to move to the square while shoving people forward, I knew I had no choice but to actually attend the execution. Not that I had a choice, everyone had to attend these shenanigans of the King. My heart started racing as a man stood on the raised platform in the middle of the square, held by none other than Song Mingi and another guard, who was gruff and angry looking. I gulped as I made sure my shawl covered my face and hair, adjusting my leather gloves as suddenly they felt like they were slipping off my hands. My scar was itching, I knew it was just my brain making me believe that the wound was fresh again, but I couldn’t force myself to stop when my eyes fell on the King, the malicious smirk on his lips morbid. He stood at the side of the platform, looking like he had never been more entertained in his life before as the man his guards held on to was wriggling around frantically, whatever he was shouting didn’t make sense anymore.

I gulped hard as the King’s eyes surveyed the crowd, but when they moved past me, I felt myself relaxing just slightly. The crowd that had gathered around was murmuring lowly, everyone wondering the reason for this execution as there were some people pushing around others in order to get to the front. I did not understand the morbid need of humans to see such gruesome scenes that were to follow in a few minutes, but I couldn’t fight against the wave as I was shoved to the front. My jaw clenched and my hands turned into fists as a man was mumbling to himself behind me, urging the King on to kill the poor civilian.

“Residents of Aurora!” The King’s deep voice boomed over the masses, crazed eyes setting on the crowd. His cheeks were tainted red still, lips redder than they were in the morning, and his black hair seemed dishevelled, “We have gathered here to teach you a lesson, again.”

The crowd froze as the King leered at everyone, stepping up onto the platform, making the civilian scream that he wasn’t guilty, that he didn’t do anything wrong. The King walked past him, but turned sharply and threw such a hard blow against the man’s jaw that I heard something crack. The crowd gasped loudly and I exhaled sharply, trying to calm the rage that was slowly bubbling up in my bloodstream. I couldn’t act out right now, it would bring my dismay, the mission would be over before I could have even started it.

“This man here,” Jeong Yunho’s gloved hands slipped through the strands of the man’s matted hair, and he yanked the man’s head back harshly as he faced the crowd, the King’s neck and ears red from rage, “tried to take something that doesn’t belong to him.”

“Your Grace, I—”

“Silence!” Song Mingi hissed and threw a blow to the man’s gut. He would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the two guards holding him up. The redhead had sat on the raised platform, shoulders hunched forward as her eyes watched the crowd closely, uncomfortably settling on me for a second too long. I ignored her haunting gaze, and instead looked at the King.

“Will you try and lie your way out of this, peasant?” The King hissed as his ablaze eyes snapped towards the man, who had started whimpering and shaking his head, “You tried to take my riches, peasant. The King’s possessions, more specifically.”

“I—I wasn’t, I swear—” Jeong Yunho’s face twisted into something dark and sinister as he leaned down and got all up in the poor man’s face.

“Were you really not?” The King’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with calmness. It was frightening, the whole square went silent as the wind howled between the buildings and abandoned stands. The redhead was swinging her legs back and forth, Song Mingi’s face twisted in disgust as the man he was holding had tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” He averted his eyes to the ground, lips shaking. It was foolish of him trying to take the King’s ornaments, but I could understand him. He was probably so hungry that he was desperate enough to do something like this. Unfortunately, it would bring his end…or perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way out of Aurora forever.

“Shame your apology means nothing to me.” The King whispered, releasing the man as he walked forward to the edge of the platform, the redhead’s back straightened and she stopped swinging her legs. The King briefly glanced at her and she got off hastily, standing to the side as Song Mingi directed the smallest of smirks at her, visibly pissing the redhead off. It was slightly frightening how her height almost matched the King’s and Song Mingi’s, barely a few inches shorter than the two men. She was a powerful warrior and a strong soldier of the Royal Guard.

“There’s order in this world,” The King started, voice eerily steady as a slow grin stretched over his features, “There’s laws in this world, and they have to be respected. They will be respected as long as you all are under my watch, bevans. It’s hilarious how dumb you all are to think that you could touch something that belongs to your King, let alone try and steal it. Such behaviour will not be forgiven, and thus it will be punished accordingly.”

The King paused, licking his lips, right hand settling on the handle of the sword he had sheathed around his hips. My body was tense and my heart was beating loudly, almost so loud that I couldn’t hear the King’s words anymore. Goosebumps covered my skin everywhere, and suddenly the shawl around the lower half of my face made it hard to breathe, it felt like panic was overtaking my whole being. I felt like Jeong Yunho could see through me and I’d be the next one executed today. What if he somehow just knew that his brother sent me to assassinate him? What if the redhead and Song Mingi also knew and were only waiting for the right moment to snatch me away and kill me in the most antagonizing and slow way? My breath stuttered in my throat when the King’s eyes suddenly fell on me, as if he remembered who I was after all those years.

“Usually, severing the hand you had stolen with would do the deed,” The King tsked, dark eyes boring into mine as my right hand was burning up, “But this time it won’t be no good. I have been too lenient with my people lately; I fear you are forgetting the rules.”

The crowd muttered in discomfort as everyone hung their heads low, not wanting to be the next targeted by the King. But I couldn’t look away as Jeong Yunho smirked, narrowing his eyes challengingly at me. I would be next if I didn’t succumb to him, so, I gritted my teeth and lowered my head until the cobblestones were the only thing I could see. The King chuckled as I heard his sword being drawn.

“Good,” He leered, tapping his sword against the wooden platform, “Now, watch.”

Almost at an instant, the crowd whipped their heads up as the King walked towards his two guards, nodding once at Song Mingi as the poor man started frantically begging the King to let him off this time, that he’d serve him for the rest of his life, that he could take both hands if he wanted to. Song Mingi and the other guard holding him down suddenly forced him forward, pushing his head down onto the long table, his chin hitting the table loudly.

“No, please!” The man started shouting, trashing around, but the redhead was up on the platform in an instant, pushing his back flush against the table so that he wouldn’t move around so much, “No—no! I swear! I swear I will do anything! Please, please, be merciful Your Grace, I regret what I had done, I really do! Spear me this one time! Your Grace!”

But the King stood by the edge of the table, next to the man’s head, staring down at him with dead eyes, expression soulless. Because he didn’t have a soul, because Jeong Yunho was the Devil himself, not even trying to disguise it anymore.

“You seem to have forgotten that you are my property, bevan, and I do whatever I want to you.” The King hissed, raising his sword up high, held by both hands. My heart was beating out of my chest, and there was a collective gasp as time seemed to slow down. It wasn’t my first time seeing a beheading, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last either, but the ear-piercing shrill scream the man let out before the King’s sword came harshly down on his neck, slashing his skin, was deafening, and it made my ears ring. The sound of skin splitting open, blood gushing out, the crunching of bones, and then the hard thud of something heavy made me so nauseous that I was afraid I would throw up right then and there. My eyes were glued to the headless body that now lay limply on the table, the three guards releasing it as they stepped back. My eyes were frozen on the stray head that fell onto the platform, slowly rolling forward. It brought blood in its wake, oozing out of it, out of the headless body, his once soulful eyes now wide and unblinking, and mouth open in a silent scream. The man’s eyes were now glossed over and empty, mouth making no noise anymore, yet I could still hear his scream. My body was shaking, my mind was numb, and my right hand felt like it was slowly melting off around the scar. There was someone crying in the crowd, loudly, then there were people who were gagging. Nobody was looking at the head, nobody but me. I couldn’t look away, the rage in my bloodstream forced me to keep looking at it, to lament at the feeling, to gather it deep inside myself and channel it into every particle of my body that wanted to kill the King.

I flinched as the head fell off the platform and continued rolling towards the crowd, towards me. And despite how gruesome it looked, I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to anymore. My body and brain weren’t working in sync anymore, my thoughts were a bit hazy as my leg raised and stepped on the left cheek of the man’s head, stopping it from rolling forward anymore. A woman next to me toppled over and threw up, everyone else gasping and rushing away from us. Everyone watched, yet nobody wanted to touch it. What was so different about it now? Weren’t we all partaking in the man’s ruthless death either way? A floorboard creaked and my head snapped up, greeted by the tall form of the King as he closed in on me, eyes burning and face covered in droplets of blood. It dripped off his chin rhythmically, soaking his black shirt underneath his gown covered in the Royal colours. The smell of iron flooded my nostrils at once, almost as if the King reeked of it himself, and a sudden dizziness hit my head. But I didn’t look away, I didn’t move. The square was dead silent as the King crouched down without breaking eye contact, he was breathing through his nose hard, jaw clenched. I kept my eyes on his as I looked down at him, left hand fisting my long skirt, brushing against the metal handle of my dagger hidden underneath my thick belt. It would’ve been so easy to kill him, but the risk of failure was too high.

Suddenly, something was yanked out from underneath my foot and it hit the ground harshly, rattling my ankle, making my eyebrows furrow as the King stood to its full height, looming over me. The smell of iron was strong, but something even stronger clashed with it, the smell of vetiver. The King’s lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth, tongue poking out to wet his lips, his chocolate brown eyes blown wide with a darkness I didn’t understand yet. He looked like a man who was crazy, ready to annihilate anything in its path. I was in his path, and he would get rid of me just for the fun of it. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until the King’s eyes finally left my face, he looked over my head at the shocked crowd, holding the dead man’s head up high.

“This,” His harsh voice boomed over the silent square, “is what happens to those disobeying their King!”

I felt eyes on me, I was aware of everything around myself, but I could only stare at the King’s face as everyone else looked somewhere else. Everything was too fresh in my mind, that day when he maimed me, the day I lost my brother…it was suffocating, it was eating me up. I couldn’t breathe anymore, I needed to get air despite being out in the open square. The harsh wind wasn’t cold anymore, my body had become numb to it. My figure was trembling so hard I could hear and feel my teeth clattering against each other, my lips quivering. Yet no tears clouded my eyes, heart too stale and dry to cry anymore. There was nothing except rage and fright left in my body, and the desperate yearning for freedom. The terror wouldn’t stop as long as Jeong Yunho was alive. And when I looked up at his face again, eyes shaking in blind rage, I was surprised to find the same expression on the King’s face. He was sneering, cheeks red and nose flaring as he glared me down, his hand holding the head shook. He wanted all of us dead, and all of us wanted him dead.

My hand tightened around the handle of the dagger, and if I closed my eyes, I could everything play out in front of me. All I had to do was yank the dagger out from underneath my belt, grab onto the King’s gown and yank him closer to myself, pull him down so that we’d be eye-level so that I’d stare into his eyes full of hatred while I plunge the dagger deep inside his neck, cutting his artery. Blood would gush out, spraying on me, coating me in his royal blood, one that was red instead of blue and tasted of iron, just like of the man’s he’s killed. I wanted to stare him in his dark eyes as the life left his, wanted to hear him gargle on his own warm blood, wanted to hear his gasp for air helplessly as everyone watched him fight for his stupidly mortal life. I wanted him to suffer, to feel like everyone he’s ever hurt or killed. I wanted him to shake in terror as his life slipped away from him without him being able to do anything about it. I wanted him to beg to be speared, to be saved, to be forgiven. I wanted him to crumble at my feet and clutch at my legs, grip loosening the harder he fought to stay alive. What a stupid mortal this King was.

Powerless, defenceless, helpless.

“Scatter around everyone!” Song Mingi’s harsh and raspy voice boomed through the square, sharp eyes frightening everyone away, “Go back to your stands!”

There was a promise in the King’s eyes before he turned and threw the head onto the platform, some men from the pub rushing over to clear the platform. And I was walking away stiffly, hand still clutching my dagger as I tried to ignore the painful itch of my scar. It felt like daggers were thrown towards me, and I didn’t have to look back to see the King, the redhead, and Song Mingi stare at my retreating form. I didn’t have to look back because I knew I had made myself the King’s target, a price on my head if I were to misbehave even in the slightest bit. And I didn’t have to see or hear the King as his lips moved, words hushed as he instructed his trusted royal guard to keep an eye on me, suspicious of my identity and intentions.

            Once the devil catches you, you can’t escape its clutches ever again. He holds you down, robs you of your soul and sucks the life out of you until you’re nothing but a shell of what you once used to be. He sucks you dry of your life essence; he robs you of the light in your eyes, of the love harboured inside of you, of all of your joy, of the will to continue living. And once he’s done with you, he leaves you alone in this world to rot away, to suffer, to cry, to hate, until your heart is nothing but a rotten fruit. A damned fruit.

Forbidden, tempting, dangerous.

If famish wasn’t such a strong state of mind, so strong that it consumes your thoughts in its entirety, the damned fruit would’ve remained untouched. But when famish mingles with fear and pain, it leaves you desperate enough to go to lengths that you know once caught would make you suffer.

There was nobody but myself to blame as I was veered inside the cold Throne Room, heart pounding and eyes tear filled as people moaned and groaned in pain, a line consisting of five people in front of me. The grip on my right arm was so painful and so tight that it probably had already cut off my blood flow, and I couldn’t fight it off. I was frail and small, a man twice my size and height could easily do whatever to me. And yet, despite knowing that I might not see another sunrise, all I could think about was my sickly brother laying in his bed, struggling to breathe while hungry. I had almost made it outside the market when I heard someone chase after me, shouting as they closed in on me. Somebody saw me take the damn apple, and they snitched to the Royal Guard, to Song Mingi. All I wanted was to feed my sick brother, to prolong his time in this world and fulfil one wish of his. He just wanted to eat an apple.

My body trembled as the lady at the front of the line wailed in pain, choking on her own screams as the smell of burnt skin was horrid in the room, bringing acid into my throat. I was nauseous, I felt like passing out. I tried to yank my arm free again and bolt out of the Throne Room, but the guard holding me just hissed and yanked me forward as the sobbing woman was dragged away, hand cradled to her chest. I couldn’t look, I was too afraid. I knew what would happen to me, everybody knew what would happen to them if they dared steal, but I didn’t want to accept it yet. I just couldn’t. If the King branded you, you were his for eternity.

The Devil would find you in his next life, and he would claim you again as his. He would make you suffer; he would torture you and laugh while you beg for forgiveness.

I jumped as a man at the front started begging loudly, falling to his knees as his arm was forced onto the marble table, the fireplace blazing the closer we got to it. There were only three more people in front of me. The man started crying, trying to free himself, but the King’s laughter echoed in the vast Throne Room, and then the man’s scream was so loud it made my ears ring. I fought against the grip on myself again, breathing getting shallow as my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would die from heart failure before the sizzling metal rod could even touch my skin.

“Stop whimpering, you stupid bitch.” The tall man holding me hissed, sharp eyes boring into mine as he loomed over me with his lanky form. He was frightening, he was the Devil’s right hand, he was his Beelzebub. It felt like the room was closing in on me despite its grandiose size, like it was about to swallow me whole as perspiration gathered on my brows, slowly dripping down my temples. I couldn’t breathe when another man was maimed, marked for life, screams echoing in the vast chamber. My captor just smirked as the fear I felt reflected off my face, pulling me closer towards my tormentor. I wanted to run away, I wanted to save myself, I needed to return to my brother, but I wasn’t strong enough.

The King’s face was twisted in a sick expression as he pressed the metal rod into another man’s hand, his victim having long fainted. The man lay limply on the floor when the guard holding him up released him, and the King kicked him, but the man didn’t budge. The King’s jaw clenched and he groaned, looking at the guard who had held the man as if he was exasperated by his incompetence.

“Take this scum away, you fool!” He hissed, dark eyes settling on his guard as he bared his teeth at him. The King was even scarier in person, from up close, in the Throne Room. His red cheeks and burgundy tainted lips could’ve fooled anyone who didn’t know him. Why did a Devil like him have such soft features when all he did was hurt and hurt others, terrorize them and make them wish they were never born? Why was someone with an Angel face a creature so dark everyone feared its name and existence? My body shook uncontrollably as I realized I was next in line. Time stood still for a second, everything disappearing around me as my ears rung and eyes saw white only. And then, as my captor tugged on my arm, everything hit me at full force.

My rapid heartbeat, the thumping of my head, the desperation crawling up my throat, the need to save myself, I had to get out. I had to return to my brother, he just wanted an apple. Why was life unfair? Almost as if awoken from a dormant sleep, adrenaline kicked hard through my system, flooding my whole being like I didn’t know it was even possible. My lungs expanded and muscles tensed, and when Song Mingi tugged on my arm again, barely three steps away from the marble table, I jumped. I jumped and I kicked at the man’s chest, scratching his neck and making him yelp in pain. Yet he never released me, but I wasn’t giving up. I had to save myself, nobody else would do it for me. And so, I kicked when I was hoisted up by my waist, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even punched whoever dared touch me. But as if I weighted nothing, I was thrown on the marble table, back hitting it hard, head crushing into the cold table. I gasped, vision fuzzy for a second, until a dark and sinister laugh snapped me back to reality. I froze when I realized I was being held down against the table by Song Mingi, expression so dark I would’ve recoiled if I could’ve. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was so sharp it could’ve cut me if it were possible. But the King, Jeong Yunho, he was calm. He looked the opposite of what his Royal Guard looked like, and something dropped deep in my stomach.

The King looked entertained by the fight I was putting up; he was enjoying it. My lower lip quivered as a hand decorated with rings, metal ornaments, reached out and lightly traced my bottom lip. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes were captivated by Jeong Yunho’s dark ones, pupils dilated as he sneered, a crazed look crossing his features as I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. The King gripped my jaw tightly, so tightly that I thought he’d break it in two, but what was even more painful were the sharp ends of his rings cutting into my skin. I whimpered as I tried to pull my head away, but I was immobilised by Song Mingi, who was smirking as he watched the exchange.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered as his eyebrows furrowed, mock concern crossing his features, “Look at how frightened she is, My Mingi.”

The royal guard’s eyes turned even darker, a predatory look crossing his features as he chuckled, hold on me tightening just a little more as my body started shaking more violently, breathing loud as I breathed through my nose. The King’s smirk matched his guard’s, and he released a long sigh, making me whimper when he dug his sharp claws more into my skin, something hot prickling down my jaw and my neck, disappearing underneath the neckline of my black dress. The King’s eyes followed the drop of blood, and he closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, a look so evil was present in his eyes that I shook my head at him involuntarily, begging him wordlessly to spare me, to let me go just this time.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered, pursing his blood red lips, suddenly releasing my jaw as he grabbed something. My heart raced faster than before, if that were even possible, and I shook my head as I felt sobs bubbling up my throat.

“Please, please, please,” My voice was hoarse and shaky, my mouth struggled to form the words I so desperately tried to speak, “My brother is sick, please.”

“You know the rules, little dove.” There was almost something like sadness tinging Jeong Yunho’s voice as his mouth pulled to the side, eyes staring off into the blazing fire. My jaw clenched as I looked at what he was holding, and my stomach coiled in even more fear. I couldn’t let this happen, I just couldn’t.

“Let me go, I promise I will never do it again, Your Grace.” I begged, hoping that I could get to him somehow, but the King just hummed as if he wasn’t truly listening to me. I was terrified, but I couldn’t help but feel wronged. If the King provided us with everything we needed, with sufficient food, then we wouldn’t have to go out and steal as a means of survival. He was the one forcing us into doing these things, and yet he was the one punishing us for something he would never change. It was unfair, and I couldn’t help but soak in the sudden anger that flared through my body, making me fight against the royal guard as he pinned my right against the marble table, holding me down by my shoulders with his other hand.

“Why should I pay for something I’m forced to do because you have never once helped your people, Your Grace?” I snapped, glaring at the side of the King’s head. He didn’t react, and I couldn’t remain silent anymore, “Why are you punishing me when you’re the one forcing us to live in poverty and famish, My King?”

I winced when Song Mingi’s elbow dug into my shoulder painfully, but I didn’t stop glaring up at the King as he looked borderline bored, uninterested in what I had to say.

“My brother is dying because of you!” I screamed, losing my sanity as the King didn’t react, only chuckled quietly, “My brother is dying because you took away everything from us and forced us into the slums. My brother is dying because you hold people in such terror that not even an apple can be gifted anymore. I stole that apple, because nobody would give it to me anymore out of kindness. While King Choi was alive, the Kingdom was flourishing. Everyone was happy and content, everyone enjoyed life. You—you are no King, Jeong Yunho—”

“Shut up, wench!” Song Mingi’s face was suddenly looming over mine as he screamed in my face, his whole face red and enraged as I stared back at him wide eyed. My heart was racing and I started trashing around violently, trying to fight the guard off again, but to no avail.

“My Mingi,” The King’s voice was light and soft, head turning to glance down at us, “don’t rile yourself up over the words of a poor peasant.”

“But—My King, she’s—” The guard looked shocked as he stared at the King wide eyed, seemingly confused.

“A stupid, confused, little girl,” The King chuckled, looking down at me with pity on his face that made me sick to my stomach, “she doesn’t know better. Perhaps this will teach her a lesson for once and for all.”

My eyes widened when the King’s hand moved, the sizzling hot rod pulled out of the fire, getting closer and closer to my body as the King moved agonizingly slow, taunting me by the large grin on his face. I whimpered and bit my lower lip, aware that Song Mingi was holding me even firmer than before, jaw set tight as his eyes were glued onto the King.

“No—” I stuttered, gasping for air as the King lightly grazed my hand with his gloved hand, “No! Don’t—don’t touch me!”

A serene smile appeared on his lips, looking into my eyes with a look that made me feel like a small child who had misbehaved and was now getting lectured for it. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to wriggle myself free, trashing my legs around and trying to push Song Mingi off myself, but his strength was incredible, and I was too frail to even as much as make him budge, “Let go of me! I didn’t do anything wrong! Don’t touch me!”

My throat hurt from my screams, but I wouldn’t give up. I would never, I had to get back to my brother. I couldn’t let that iron rod touch my skin; I’d be the King’s forever. I couldn’t let the Devil bound me to himself, I just couldn’t. I’d never be free again, I’d never be able to leave Aurora, “Now, if you stop throwing a fuss it’ll hurt less, little dove—”

The saliva that had gathered in my mouth landed on the King’s cheek as I spat at him, nose flared and eyes wide in rage and fear as my lungs heaved for air, “You’ll burn in the depths of Hell for—”

The iron grip around my throat rendered me speechless in seconds, before I could finish my curse. My eyes bulged as I clawed at the large hand wrapped around my neck with my left hand, Song Mingi’s grip the last thing I’d feel before I’d meet my death. The King just watched us, he didn’t blink, he didn’t react. His lips twitched, but he said nothing as my spit slowly dripped down his cheek, “My Mingi.”

And before I could even wrap my mind around the sudden oxygen rush in my lungs, a searing pain shot through the top of my right hand, so hot and so painful that a scream was instantly ripped from my hoarse throat. My back arched and fingers scraped at nothing as my right arm was still held down by the guard, the King’s eyes boring onto my face as he watched me frail around in excruciating pain. The smell of burnt flesh was disgusting and it made me gag knowing that it was my own flesh burning, branded by the Crown’s emblem for life. My vision went white for a second as the rod was still burning into my flesh, it felt like it would go through my hand at any given moment, creating a gaping hole in it. I heaved for air as I couldn’t scream anymore, body shaking in shock as suddenly the King smirked, yanking the rod off my hand. A loud sob ripped through my body, right hand shaking so badly that it felt like it was an alien limb, not controlled by my own body. The restricting hands were gone from my body, and I was afraid to look at the damage done. I was on the brink of passing out and throwing up at the same time, when suddenly the King’s gloved hand was in the air, and the next second it was connected to my cheek, sending my head flying to the side. The slap echoed in the vast room, and my sobs instantly stilled as my curly hair fell over my face, shielding it from the eyes of the two tyrants. My body stilled, yet my right hand never stopped shaking. The pain was searing, pulsing, traveling from my hand up to my wrist and my whole arm, making me grit my teeth as I tried not to cry out. It hurt so badly that it made me want to claw at the scorched skin.

“You’re mine, little dove,” The King’s dark words were whispered in my ear, voice deep, “and if you try to run, I will find you, and I will kill you with my own hands.”

“Burn in hell.” I managed to grit out through my teeth, throat feeling like sandpaper. The King chuckled; sound high pitched as I heard the metal rod being thrown onto the marble floor of the Throne Room.

“She’s a handful, My Mingi,” The King mused, and I felt a gloved hand grip my right thigh as I was veered off the table. I managed to sit up last minute and save myself from tumbling onto the floor, “Take her to the dungeons, let’s teach her another lesson for being disobedient and trying to curse her King.”

My eyes widened, desperation clawing at my bones as I tried to push the guard off, but he just grabbed my arms and tied them behind my back before I could even as much as protest. My head was spinning and it was a little hard to realize what exactly was happening, the pain coming from my hand the only thing I could focus on as Song Mingi made me walk, veering me towards some stone stairs at the back of the Throne Room. Yet, I was aware that I needed to go back to my brother.

“No, no, no—my brother—” A sob cut me off as I tried to plead with Song Mingi, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, expression stone cold as I cried harder, “He’ll die, please!”

I was yanked back by my hair and forced to stop as Song Mingi breathed hard through his nose, eyes burning as he glared at me sharply, “I do not understand why My King spared you, but if you won’t shut your fucking mouth, I will gut you right here and right now. Then, you’ll join your brother you keep wailing for in Eden.”

I gasped as I shoot up, clutching at my chest and right hand shaking from the dull ache coursing through it, sweat covering my face and neck. My heart was beating frantically as I gasped for air, eyes searching my surroundings wildly. It was dark around me, but the moonlight shone through the opened curtains. The little candle I had lit before going to bed had burned out, and the sturdy wood of my bed made my back ache. I was safe. I was in laying in my bed, in my pathetic excuse of a cottage, far away from the Castle and the Throne Room. I tried taking deep breaths, tried slowing my heartbeats, tried to reason with myself that all of that was just a dream. But it wasn’t, it was a reoccurring nightmare of that cursed day. It made me miss my brother even terribly more, and as my eyes shifted towards the small dresser I had across from my bed, my eyes landed on the sketch of the King given to me by Sir Jung. Fury flamed inside my chest as my left hand slipped underneath my cold pillow, and in a swift movement, I pulled my dagger out from underneath and flung it at the sketch as a scream ripped through my lips. Jeong Yunho will pay for everything he’s done.

            It had been two weeks since the beheading in the square, two weeks of me spying on the King to my best capacities. It wasn’t easy to remain unseen, but I managed to sneak by his Royal Guards just fine each time. Song Mingi and the redhead weren’t as attentive as they thought they were. Perhaps the King wouldn’t sleep so well at night knowing that his most trusted guards were incapable of sensing danger and noticing the littlest changes around themselves.

The King’s schedule was quite simple and easy. He left the Castle grounds early in the morning to go on a hunt in the forest surrounding his estate, then he’d go down to the market and parade down the wealthier parts of Aurora. It wasn’t too often that he went anywhere else but straight back to the Castle once he was done agonizing his people in the streets, however, he had gone once or twice dangerously close to the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhibited now. There was also a time when the King was headed to the slums, to a shop famous for its otherworldly businesses, meaning witchcraft. The King wasn’t opposed to it as long as the witches served him, and him alone. Anyone who dared use their knowledge against the King would be burned on a rug, in the square. There had been witch hunts before, they used to be more frequent while King Choi was the ruler as he was opposed to anything that dealt with darkness, however, Jeong Yunho wasn’t like that. He embraced the dark and he craved the power that came with it, a false sense of immortality laying within him. It only took me two days to realize that the King was plotting something, something that was kept hush-hush and a secret from even his two most trusted guards. The King had let them go back to the Castle one afternoon and then he galloped out of Aurora, only returning the next day. I couldn’t go after him, and curiosity ate me up when the next day the King had gone to the same witchcraft shop, staying in there for hours, looking pale and almost ghostly by the time he finally left the shop. If it weren’t for Song Mingi, who was at an instant by the King’s side, he would’ve crumbled to floor and fainted. The King was doing something very highly illicit, and I needed to find out just what. Both for my own sake, but also to help Prince Choi and Sir Jung in taking the Crown from Jeong Yunho.

Tonight hadn’t been different from the King’s daily shenanigans, however, for a change, the King had gone to a run-down pub, located a little bit too close to the slums. He was joined by his two loyal guards, Song Mingi and the redhead. They wore long black gowns to hide their identities as they slipped past the dark shadows coating the streets, the lamplighters not bothering to light the candles in this part of Aurora. Of course, that did not come as a surprise. The only adequately lit parts of our burgh were the market and square, where the royal guards would march around to check if the lamplighters were indeed doing their duties. Nobody cared about those suffering outside of the richer parts of Aurora, nobody cared about people like me.

I pressed closer against the cold brick wall of a rickety hut, barely holding itself up. Many houses looked like that in the area, and it was a truly saddening sight, especially when families with lots of children were forced to live in such conditions due to the King taking everything from them, leaving them to the rats. I tried not to think of those people, it made me remember my brother, and tonight I had to focus. I needed to get closer to the pub somehow, to gain more intel on whatever was going on inside, of what the King was up to once again. But by the time I gathered my courage and came up with a flawed plan, the door to the pub was kicked open and a drunk man stumbled outside, followed by two tall gowned figures. The drunk man was loudly whistling and he stumbled on a misplaced cobblestone, roughly crashing into the side of the pub. He howled in pain, but I paid him no mind as the tall figures turned the opposite way of the drunken man had started tumbling towards, and started walking. Their pace was fast, almost as if they were trying to get away from something.

I took a deep breath and remaining in the shadows, I crept after them, eyes fixated on their tall figures. I kept a few good meters between us, and I made sure to keep my footsteps light, so that they wouldn’t accidentally hear me. The sky was clear for once, and the moonlight was your only guide through the dark streets. For once, I was grateful that the lamplighters didn’t perform to their full capacity and left the slums unattended, making my job so much easier right now. I tried to decipher who was who, but the King and his Guard’s similarity in physique was a scary realization. Perhaps Song Mingi’s shoulders were wider and stance firmer, but I couldn’t say for sure. Especially when their strides seemingly were the same. I couldn’t tell the King and his Guard apart from behind, and I felt anxiety crawl up my throat as I prayed to God that the two wouldn’t separate.

The long street we had been walking down came to a crossroads soon. Going to the left would lead you back to the prettier and cleaner district of Aurora, however, turning right would take you towards the dense and haunting forest, towards the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhabited. As the two men took a left turn, I came to the alarming realization that the redhead was seemingly nowhere, and she had arrived with them to the pub. Could she have stayed back? Had the two men gotten rid of her? That sounded absurd, everybody knew those in the Royal Guard gave their lives to the King, and the redhead was one of his most devoted soldier, she surely wouldn’t have committed treason against someone she so blindly worshipped. But then where was she? My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as I had started glancing behind myself, paranoid that I was also being followed, probably by the redhead. If they were to catch me now, I would most certainly die as they outnumbered and outpowered me easily. I might have gotten stronger over the past years, but I still remained with a smaller built. And I was no warrior, I lacked the skills they have mastered a long time ago.

The streets turned narrow once again as we got closer and closer to the richer area, cottages in better conditions littering both sides of the street. There were very few candles still alight in the houses, and I had to be more careful as the candle lighting of the streets was better in this area. I pulled the shawl tighter around my face, and made myself smaller as the two men continued walking, but faster than before. I had to run, almost, to keep up with them. My breaths left my mouth in short puffs and as the two men rounded the corner, the main street leading them back to the Castle, I followed suit. However, I almost yelped as I crashed against a hard body, sending me backwards. I instantly panicked, eyes wide in fear as my left hand went to grab my dagger, but the man that I had stumbled into was neither the King nor Song Mingi. It was just a drunken civilian, looking borderline sick. His eyes were squinted and as he tried leaning closer to get a better look at my face, I grabbed his head and pushed him to the side, making him stumble. If I wouldn’t have caught his arm quickly, he would’ve stumbled to the hard cobblestone covered road. I have underestimated his state, and I took pity on him as he looked confused.

“Go home, old man, it isn’t safe out here.” I snapped at him; eyes boring into his. The man just blinked and then nodded once, clumsily taking off again, stumbling into every possible bench and bush he could. I shook my head and quickly rounded the corner, hoping that the distraction wasn’t long enough to make me lose my targets. But, to my misfortune, there was only one tall figure walking down the long street, their pace a lot slower this time. I gulped and pulled the neckline of my own gown tighter around my shoulders, heart beating fast as I hoped the man I was following was indeed the King himself, and not Song Mingi. But I couldn’t be sure, and I was helpless as I followed after him. He was a little ahead, a few good steps, and I refrained from closing the gap again, hesitant to give away my presence just yet. If it wasn’t the King, then I had no reason to follow his Guard, he was of no use to me. My eyebrows furrowed when the tall man took a right turn, going down a street that wasn’t leading towards the Castle anymore. What had they planned? Looking behind myself, left and right too, I made sure I wasn’t followed as I quickly ran down the rest of the street before rounding the same corner the man had, gripping the handle of my dagger. It was a narrow backstreet that connected to a dirt road which led down to a small field if you continued walking left, however, it met with another even shorter path, which was a dead-end behind a fancy Inn. The man continued walking, pace once again hurried, until suddenly a black shadow leaped from the side of a building, knocking the tall man into the narrow dead-end. My eyes widened as I froze in the middle of the street, heart pounding in my chest. What was happening? I should’ve turned around and left, but I had to know whether it was the King or Song Mingi getting attacked in the middle of the night. And so, I pressed myself against the brick wall of the Inn and crept to the edge of the building, peeking my head around the corner, just barely.

The unmistakable silver blonde hair was glinting underneath the moonlight as the hood of Song Mingi’s gown had fallen down, and I hissed in displeasure. I had been fooled. I wasn’t following the King, but Song Mingi. So where had the King gone then? What was he up to again? Or was Song Mingi just getting frisky behind an Inn after a night spent at a pub getting drunk? My question was quickly answered as a hard blow was thrown against the guard’s jaw, sending his head in the opposite direction. The guard hissed and suddenly sprung forward, hand wrapping around the throat of his attacker. But the attacker was quick to fight back, and the person’s nails dug into Song Mingi’s wrist until he was forced to release his attacker. The person grabbed the collar of his gown and pinned him against the wall, face leaning dangerously close to Song Mingi’s. The height difference was minimal between the two, and my eyes widened as the person’s hood slipped from her head, revealing her red hair. What were Jeong Yunho’s royal guards doing in a dead-end, mauling each other around?

“You complete scum!” The redhead’s voice was shaky, laced with venom, “How dare you go to our King and say such lies about me?!”

Song Mingi remained unmoving, finally having given up fighting the redhead. Instead, he leaned his head against the tall cement fence he was pressed up against, and smirked.

“I see My King has let you know about the little change that’s happened.” I watched as the redhead’s grip tightened even more around Song Mingi’s gown.

“I was supposed to go on that mission, Mingi.” The redhead pressed; tone hard.

“And now it’s me going, foxy.” Song Mingi chuckled in amusement, and I heard the redhead let out a frustrated yelp. I pressed myself against the brick wall, turning away from the scene. I could hear the two guards throwing insults at each other, their voices gradually getting louder, but I wasn’t interested in their quarrel. I was here for the King, and I had lost him. Now I wouldn’t know if he was headed back to the Castle or off to doing something unlawful again.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts and energy to head back to the slums, to my pathetic excuse of a hut. The air was chilly again, and I was thankful for the thick gown Prince Choi had sent me three days ago, a small note saying to ‘dress up well, it’s getting colder day by day’ placed on top of the heavy garment. I was thankful, and more than grateful for the gift sent by the Prince. I had nothing to repay him with, but perhaps getting rid of the King was the biggest treasure I could offer to the Prince right now.

I was headed down the short alleyway I had just followed Song Mingi down, meaning to go back onto the main street and then head back home. However, before I could even round the corner fully, gloved fingers curled into the fabric of my expensive gown and yanked me around the corner, throwing me against the bricked wall. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of my lungs, head hitting the wall loudly, making me groan as it shook my skull. As I tried to regain my bearings, I felt the gloved hand slip up towards my throat, long fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing. I froze, left hand shooting up to hold onto my attacker’s wrist as my eyes finally cleared and were able to focus on the one holding me. And it was none other than Jeong Yunho, the King himself. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were mere slits as he glared down at me, towering over me due to his great height. The pressure around my neck grew stronger and I gasped for air, eyes widening just a little, trying to control the panic raising in my whole being. Being immobilised by the King felt too familiar, I couldn’t help but respond with panic as memories of the day I had been marked by him tried to resurface, remind me of the pain I had felt under his hands.

“What do you want?” The King hissed, lowering his head until he was eye level with me. I tried to gulp, but it was hard. My grip tightened around the King’s wrist, nails digging into his leather glove. I didn’t answer him, and even if I would’ve tried to, the way his hold was tightening stopped me from doing so.

“Who are you, peasant?” The King snapped and leaned even closer; eyebrows furrowed as his eyes travelled all over my face. He wasn’t able to see much of my features, but I knew he could see my eyes just well, and so I glared at him. My heart was racing and I tried to push his hand off, but it only made him squeeze tighter. My lungs started burning, the King was slowly choking me, antagonizing me even now.

“Speak up, wench.” It seemed he had realized I was a woman, disgust coating his features as his hot breath fanned over my cheeks. I grit my teeth and tried to push the King backwards, but he wasn’t budging. Dark sports started covering my vision, and I tried not to gasp for air, refusing to show weakness in front of him again. But as his right hand raised, the sharp edges of his ornaments grazing against the little exposed skin I had, I knew I had to do something. His ring clad fingers gripped at the shawl and my eyes widened more as I realized he was about to yank it off my face. I couldn’t let him see me; it would compromise the whole mission. In my panicked state, I did the next best thing I could that came to mind. I turned my head and bit his exposed right hand, biting through the material of my shawl. It probably wasn’t as painful as it would have been if my shawl wasn’t in the way of my teeth, but the King still hissed and ripped his right hand back, looking surprised. It allowed me little momentum to shake his grip off my neck too as it had loosened, and I lived with the opportunity, grabbing his arm and yanking it off myself. Before the King could fight back, I sprung forward and pushed at his strong chest, making him stumble back a few steps as he didn’t expect my attack.

“Who sent you, little dove?” He leered, eyes ablaze as a smirk slowly slipped onto his lips, looking like he had no intention of holding me again. Yet, he took two steps towards me, watching me like a predator watches its prey. I gulped, suddenly feeling helpless, just like the day I had been held down against the marble table, marked and maimed. I felt like that little girl again as my hands started shaking and mind got clouded with memories, making it harder to breathe through the shawl. The pain I had felt that day suddenly felt too vivid, too real, as my right hand burned, the Crown’s emblem forever burned in my skin. All the King had to do was yank my glove down and see for himself. He would’ve taken me back to the Castle and killed me, or worse, tortured me until he became bored of me.

“If you don’t speak now, I’ll kill you.” The King said in a light tone, smile spreading into a wide grin as his eyes glossed over with darkness. I gulped and steeled my nerves, reminding myself that I wasn’t that defenceless little girl anymore. I wouldn’t sit around and mop as I wait for Death to take me away. I have become stronger, both physically and mentally, and I had a mission. A mission which placed the fate of the Kingdom of the Fallen in my hands.

“You’ll kill me even if I speak.” I hissed, glaring at the King as he started laughing. There was nothing amusing about what I said, it was the mere truth. And as he extended his ring decorated hand towards my face again, I pulled my right arm back and swung it towards the King’s cheek with all the force I could muster. I was breathing hard as my gloved hand made contact with the King’s cheek, and I’ve never felt anymore more satisfying than having the King’s head snap to the side as my fist connected with his red tinged cheek. The night was quiet and my punch was loud. My heart was racing as a huge grin spread onto my lips, a grin the King couldn’t see and wouldn’t see as I suddenly took off, sprinting away. I was fast, but I knew they would catch up with me sooner than later, so, upon spotting vines coming down the side of a smaller cottage, I gripped onto them and climbed the wall as fast as I could. My heart was racing as I took off running again, hopping from roof to roof, praying that it wouldn’t give out underneath me as some felt a little too loose. I was also praying that the roof tiles wouldn’t slip underneath my weight, sending me tumbling to the cold and dirty ground.

I could hear the King and his two loyal guards chase after me, but it seemed like neither could climb onto the cottages, offering me the little advantage I needed to get away tonight. And knowing that I managed to instill even a little pain in the King would help me sleep better tonight.

            Tonight had to have been the most nerve wrecking night of my whole life as I walked past the tall guards at the heavy front doors of the Castle. The air was warm as I stepped further inside the vast hallway, scenery way too familiar. I tried to remain calm and collected as a butler stepped closer, an inviting and warm smile on his lips, as he helped me slip out of my expensive fur coat. The dark brown fabric reached down to my ankles, shielding me completely from the biting chill the late autumn wind brought with itself. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest anytime now as I clutched the white envelope tightly in my hands, the stamp of the Crown a blood red, asking for attention against the snow-white paper. I forced a small smile onto my lips as I followed the crowd towards the ballroom, gut twisting as we were ushered past the Throne Room, a room that had witnessed so much horror ever since Jeong Yunho had become King.

Despite completely fitting in with the rich crowd surrounding me, curtesy of Prince Choi, I still felt like everyone could spot that I didn’t actually belong here. The fabric of my white dress was soft against my pale skin, the best I had ever had the chance to wear, and it fell loosely around my body. There wasn’t anything too eye catching or special about the dress Prince Choi had sent for this specific occasion, and that was the purpose. I was supposed to blend in with the rich crowd and lure the King away from the masses, where I would make sure he’d never again see tomorrow’s sunrise. It wasn’t an easy task, but tonight was the perfect timing. There wouldn’t be another one like this anytime soon as these balls were organized on full moon’s only by the King, whispers about a ritual practiced by him resurfacing every time the ball took place.

The top of my dress was low-cut and it made me feel uncomfortable for exposing so much of my skin, the tops of my breasts quite visible to anyone who looked my way, the slit in the ruffles of the skirt at least decent enough that it didn’t reach too high. The straps around my shoulders were puffy but delicate, the prettiest V line I had seen a dress have so far. Thankfully, the design of the expensive dress allowed to match gloves with it, and so, I was delighted when I saw the matching white silky gloves placed at the bottom of the box this dress had arrived in. The gloves were delicate and soft, a little cold when I have tried them on, and reached just above my elbows, the rest of my arms exposed. It was warm inside the ballroom; therefore, I didn’t worry that I would catch a cold accidentally. I have smoothed down my hair, the long curls reaching down the middle of my back, and kept it minimal when applying a little beauty enhancer to my face. The blush on my cheeks was artificial and so was the glitter on top of my eyelids, and the redness of my lips. I couldn’t do much about my pale complexion, and could only hope that the rich people wouldn’t think that I looked sick. The goal was to catch the King’s eye tonight.

When I had finally reached the top of the stairs that would lead down to the ballroom, further inside the lively chamber, a man dressed elegantly smiled widely and extended his hand towards me. I could only hope he wouldn’t pay enough attention to notice the nervousness on my face as I handed the envelope to him, watching as he delicately opened it. Inside it, there was a letter addressed to a respective Bae Joohyun, who happened to be fourth cousins with the King and the Prince. I found the idea crazy, to come to such an event under the pretence of being someone else and someone so close to the Royal family, but Prince San had assured me that they hadn’t seen their little cousin since they were five, and so, the King wouldn’t know what she looked like now. The pretence was perfect in the Prince’s head as he said my looks fit exactly that of their cousin: pale, petite, black haired, and dark eyed. Apparently, she was beautiful beyond comprehension, and I oozed a tenderness their cousin also had. I didn’t dare refute the Prince’s claims and just thanked him for helping me out once again. After all, if he wanted my mission to be a success, he had to play his part from the shadows.

“Miss Bae Joohyun, first of her name, eldest princess and head huntress of the burgh of La Rouge.” The man announced loudly to the ballroom as he read off my fake title from the invitation, and I tried to keep an amicable smile on my lips as a servant quickly rushed to my side, helping me down the marble set of stairs. It felt like everyone was staring at me in the room, which they were, and I tried to slow my heartbeat with deeps breaths in order to keep myself from fainting. I couldn’t even blame it on the restricting dress as I didn’t wear a corset, unlike many of the ladies present here tonight. It made me feel out of place, but trusting Prince San’s words, the actual Bae Joohyun wouldn’t have shown up in a restricting and puffed-up dress. She was a free spirit and often times went against the rules in order to live her life the way she wanted. Her parents weren’t too keen of her attitude and the choices she had made so far in her life, but they’d rather keep her close and not her younger sister, who apparently was a rascal and everyone’s nightmare in the burgh of La Rouge. The burgh resided on the other side of the Kingdom of the Fallen and was a lot more lenient compared to Aurora, that is, until King Jeong manages to expand his believes that far out, poisoning the innocent people of La Rouge, like he had done to us in Aurora.

And just like that, the night seemed to go on uneventfully, besides the unwanted attention men, and women alike, seemed to offer me. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s company, but I knew if I kept to myself, hidden in a corner, I would get nothing done tonight, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to raise attention onto myself if I wanted the King to find me appealing, and that was only achievable if I was surrounded by men who made me laugh loudly, even if it was forced often times. I had managed to come closer to the King more than once, but so it seemed he was too busy staring down the cleavage of the dress of whatever lady he had been talking to at the moment, clearly uninterested in whatever they had to say. His loyal dogs were around too, of course, both dressed to the nines as they surveyed the crowd, mingling with the people at times. Song Mingi remained close to the King, however, but wasn’t breathing down his neck like usual, his outfit a lot more casual than one was used to seeing him wear. His body was littered with accessories, and I accidentally had caught sight of the redhead ripping the silver chain off as it hung around the man’s narrow waist over the tight vest Song Mingi was wearing. A heated exchange between the two seemed to happen afterwards, with the taller guard backing the redhead against a pillar, sneering into her face, until the King showed up and merely tapped the two on the shoulder before walking away, beaming at a blonde woman with a dark look in his eyes.

The longer I watched the King, the angrier I became that nobody could see through his obvious fa��ade, of the fakeness in his laughter and smiles, that they couldn’t see his eyes darkening and a sick twist crossing his features any time someone said something he didn’t enjoy. Everyone remained oblivious to his so obvious show of dominance whenever a man managed to capture the attention of those around themselves. It was pathetic really, how badly the King needed to have all the attention in the big room on himself, yearning for the praises and ass-licking these rich people were doing. It was sickening and so infuriating as I watched him throw his head back in delight, laughter melodic but loud enough to have others glancing his way, flocking towards the small group, because it was the King. And if the King found something hilarious and worth his time, everyone else wanted to know what it was about, striving to capture his attention like that. My jaw was clenched as I watched another woman wander towards him, looking abashed when the King so much as glanced her way in passing, batting her eyelashes at him. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of wanting the King’s attention purposefully, not when so much blood lay on his hands, so much terror and horror committed under his reign, under his command.

I nursed a tall glass of champagne in my hands as I surveyed the crowd, searching for Song Mingi and the redhead, finding them in different parts of the ballroom, both seemingly busy with the people they were respectively talking to. The King, however, happened to be closer to me as he was talking to two gentlemen, face impassive as he only hummed and nodded at whatever they were saying. For a second, he glanced ahead, and our eyes connected. My breath hitched and I fought every fibre in my body wanting to look away, knowing that the King liked a good chase and a little provocation. If I looked away, I would admit defeat, and he didn’t like women who weren’t a little fiery, harder to break. The thought made me sick but I quickly disregarded it and hid my fake smile as I took the smallest sip I could of my champagne, knowing that my plan was working as the King’s eyes bore into mine, narrowing. It wasn’t the first time our eyes accidentally met during the night, and I was completely convinced that his curiosity was growing the more I seemed to be teasing him. Always around, yet never approaching him. Always around, yet never actively asking for his attention. I could see his fierce eyes on me every time I laughed a little too loudly, or anytime I playfully touched a gentleman’s bicep for a second too long. The King might’ve thought I wasn’t looking, but I was. And my plan was working just perfectly. The mission would finally turn out to be a success tonight.

“Miss Bae,” My attention was ripped away from the King as a moderately tall man stopped in front of me, lips heart shaped, and kind eyes sharper rather than rounder. The man’s voice was rather deep, yet soft, and he looked almost a little shy, “I did not know you would be attending tonight’s ball.”

I plastered on a soft smile and tried to act like I knew the man in front of me. Prince San didn’t really tell me who I was supposed to know tonight, and so I had to be creative when catching other people’s names, “It came as a surprise to me as well.”

The man chuckled as he covered his mouth with a soft looking hand, eyes glinting in amusement. He didn’t look like he had dubious reasons for talking to me, unlike many other men so far tonight, and his eyes had not even once fallen onto my cleavage, “Did your father send you in hopes of finding a suitor?”

“Perhaps that was the reason,” I mussed as I took a sip of my champagne, aware of the King’s eyes on me as I continued talking to the kind man, “it seems like he won’t accept the fact that I do not wish to marry.”

“Perhaps you haven’t met the right man yet.” Ah, the likeableness of this man just plummeted as my eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed alarmed as he realized what he had said, “Oh! I was not suggesting that you should marry or anything else, Miss Bae! It is completely alright to not want to marry, I do not wish to marry either.”

“Lovely,” I hummed, not interested in the conversation anymore. The King was moving away and I had to remain close to him, “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”

“Do Kyungsoo, Miss Bae, I see the passing of the years made you forget about me.” I gulped, nervous all of a sudden as Mr. Do chuckled. I had no idea who he was, but I was sure the real Bae Joohyun would know. So, I chuckled abashed, looking down in fake embarrassment.

“My apologies, I haven’t been to Aurora in so long…” Mr. Do nodded in understanding, downing the rest of his champagne in one go.

“Then I must leave you alone to mingle some more, right?” He sounded slightly disappointed, and I couldn’t help but think that the bond between Miss Bae and Mr. Do once had ran deeper than it seemed. I cleared my throat and excused myself with a bow of my head, looking for the King. The crowd was large and as the music had gotten louder, a dance floor had formed in the middle of the big room. Everyone was loud as more champagne and expensive wine was consumed, both men and women getting bolder and handsy with each other. I tried not to see the disappearing couples behind pillars and curtains as I walked past them, quiet moans or groans alarming to hear. I was no prude, but doing anything like that just felt wrong in a place like this. Besides, I wouldn’t have dared doing anything relatively inadequate in the house of the King, under his watchful eyes.

“Miss Bae.” I jumped as the velvety voice whispered in my ear, almost making me punch their gut as I whirled around, “You’ve been alone ever since I have left your side.”

Mr. Byun wasn’t exactly the man I wished to be around right now; eyes hazed over as his breath reeked of alcohol. He had set his eyes on me the second the servant had announced my name and title, lurking around me after presenting himself and talking to me.

“You are quite wrong,” I chuckled, trying not to glare at him as he reached out a hand and twirled a dark strand of my hair between his fingers, “I have been talking to others too, Mr. Byun.”

“None as promising and handsome as myself, right?” The man smirked, overly sure of himself, making my jaw clench as I forced a chuckle to leave my lips. All this unwanted attention certainly hadn’t been part of my plan, I thought nobody would give me even as much as a second glance, busy with others, with people they already knew. All these men were making this experience even less pleasant, as if being in the lion’s den was pleasant in the first place.

“What a confident man,” I smiled widely, placing my empty glass on a tray as a servant walked by us, “I bet the ladies love being around you, Mr. Byun.”

“Hopefully you are one of those ladies yourself, Miss Bae.” Mr. Byun winked and suddenly bowed, extending a hand towards me, “Would you offer me your first dance of the night, love?”

No, I would not like to offer you my first dance of the night, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t refuse a dance, whether I liked the idea or not. I had started thinking that my plan had been flawed from the very beginning and that I wouldn’t succeed in fulfilling my mission, that is, until I felt a gloved hand sneaking around my waist, firmly yanking me into the side of a body. My eyes widened as I gasped at the sudden feeling, head snapping up, dread filling my whole being. The King was glaring down at Mr. Byun as his hold tightened around my waist, and I almost flung myself out of his grip, skin burning through the fabric where the King had touched me. Despite my goal being exactly this, to find myself in the arms of the King, it felt wrong. Very wrong. I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I steeled my nerves and hushed the thoughts that were screaming to run far away from the tyrant, and managed to ease a soft smile on my lips.

“Mr. Byun,” The King grinned, however it didn’t reach his dark eyes, “already drunk and close to passing out? It’s been only two hours since the ball started, you fool.”

Mr. Byun’s jaw clenched, but he had no choice but to bow his head in respect, “My apologies, Your Grace, I might have gotten carried away.”

“Most certainly if you thought you could dance with such beautiful maiden.” It was my turn to clench my jaw at the King’s insinuation, but I willed my heartrate to calm down and muscles to relax as the King’s dark gaze was directed onto me now, “Shall we dance, gorgeous?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” I bowed my head and forced a timid smile onto my lips as the King’s ring, claw, decorated hand found my waist too, grip firm as he veered me in front of himself and made us walk towards the dance floor. My back straightened as I tried to calm down and not tense up when the King’s hands squeezed my waist just a little bit more, narrowly avoiding a couple as they were dancing around a little too wildly for the King’s liking as he leered at them. I closed my eyes when I felt ourselves stop in the middle of the dance floor, and took a deep breath. I could do this, for the future of the Fallen of the Kingdom, for our nation, and for Prince Choi San. I could do this, and I would do this.

When I blinked my eyes open, the King was stood in front of me, a dangerous smirk on his plush red lips, staring down with hunger in his eyes as they racked down my body. I gulped and gasped when I was forcefully yanked against his broad and strong body, ring decorated hand curling into my hips as his gloved hand took mine in his, holding it a lot gentler than I expected him to. As I looked up, making eye contact with the King, he took a step forward, slowly easing us into a waltz that matched the pace of the orchestra and of those dancing around us too.

The King wore fine garments, moulded for his body, almost like a second layer for his venomous skin. His black trousers with fine white stripes clung to his long legs perfectly, enunciating his proportions even more as they were tucked into shiny tall boots that reached just bellow the King’s knees. The brown belt was hidden by the black vest clinging onto his upper body, the same fabric of his trousers seemingly sewn together with the vest’s fabric on his left shoulder and the lower right side of it. However, the back of the vest was completely different, a white fabric with black swirls on it. A black necktie was tucked underneath the King’s vest, a fine necklace with beads and a silver cross sitting on top of it, with a matching rosary hanging on top of his vest and necktie altogether. There was nothing holy about the King, it was a mere display of mockery in the Lord’s name that even such dark creature could wear and touch something so holy. The white shirt’s right sleeve was rolled up to the King’s elbows, bracelets that matched his rosary hanging snugly against his thin wrist, his metal rings, claws, eye-catching and on display for everyone to see. The left sleeve of his white shirt was tucked underneath his black leather gloves, crunching quietly as the King’s fingers tightened around mine. I tried to remain calm as the prolonged eye contact put me on edge, and I fought to stay confident and repress all the nightmarish memories of the King.

“It’s been a while, cousin.” I couldn’t completely read the expression on the King’s face, and so I only gulped. Words seemed to have escaped me, and it only made my stomach clench more when the King’s eyes fell onto my cleavage again, all too aware of how exposed I was. But it was on purpose, Prince San knew the King’s vices, and he was using it to our advantage when he had gifted this dress to me, “I don’t remember you being this quiet, Joohyun, dear.”

I gulped and scoffed, irritation not so fake anymore, “People change, Your Grace, and I have too.”

“Did your daddy tell you to behave well tonight?” His question didn’t sit well with me, especially the tone he had said it with, but I just ignored it as I rolled my eyes at the King, “Did he think you’d be rewarded for it?”

My face flushed at the implication, and it took me everything to not rip myself away from the King right then and there as I felt the sharp ends of his ornaments dig into my skin through the thin fabric of my white dress, “I’m not looking for anything, Yunho, I’m merely here to socialize, see what my cousin is up to lately.”

“I’m doing just fine, dear, as you can see.” The King chuckled, and I felt him pulling me flushed against himself, making my heartbeat quicken as I had to crane my neck to look up at him, “The Kingdom is flourishing and Aurora is doing better than it had been under King Choi’s regiment.”

“You’ve certainly brought some changes to it, Your Grace.” I couldn’t contain the snarl in my tone as I averted my eyes, staring at the rosary instead while the King just chuckled. There was nothing hilarious about what I had said, but of course, it would’ve been alarming if the King thought the way he ruled wasn’t right, “Do you plan on ruining the Kingdom of the Fallen even more?”

The King’s eyes hardened as I looked back up in his eyes, jaw clenching as I felt his right hand slowly slip lower, pressing flat against the small of my back. The action made goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I tried not to shudder as the King merely smirked, no doubt noticing my reaction to his undesired touch.

“I see your passion for the wellbeing of my Kingdom hasn’t changed, dear Joohyun.” The King smiled, but it was far from genuine, he looked irritated, “Why don’t you become Queen and mould it to your own likes?”

“Is that what you are doing right now?” I cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, “Playing with your people as if you were playing chess? What’s next, a war against the Kingdom of Light? You know their Queen can’t wait to destroy you, Yunho.”

“How saddening she’ll never get the chance to do so.” The glint in the King’s eyes was scary, they held a secret so dark I probably didn’t want to know, but I was curious. He was planning something, something dangerous and big, and I needed to find out what. But that would take time, and if I managed to kill him tonight, that dark secret of his would die with him.

“Indeed,” I chuckled and tried to ignore the way the King’s hand slipped further down, fingers barely brushing against my ass. Why was he doing this? He surely could’ve found other ladies that weren’t related to him, since he was under the impression that I was his cousin, even if not a close relative, still blood-related to him, “I see your goons never leave your side, Your Grace.”

The King’s head fell backwards as he laughed, chest shaking with the motion, the first genuine reaction I had ever seen on him. It stunned me, but I tried not to gape. I glanced to the side, unsurprised as I found Song Mingi staring daggers our way, twirling a knife in his hands. The redhead was dancing, but her eyes were solely fixed on the King as well, probably deaf to whatever the man holding her was saying to her.

“My goons, are my most loyal guards, dear, of course they never leave my side.” The King finally seemed to get over my words as he had stopped laughing and was instead grinning, glancing to the side like I had done so. His eyes softened for a second as they fell on Song Mingi, and then his cold exterior was back on as his eyes fell down on me, “It’s their duty, after all.”

“It looks like a little bit more than just duty, Your Grace.” I smirked, heart stilling when I felt the King unashamedly squeeze my ass. I jumped and tried not to sputter as he flushed me fully against himself, a sickening smirk pulling at his lips.

“Perhaps it is more than just duty.” The King whispered, winking as he lowered his head just a little bit, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. I tensed, eyes wide as I continued staring at him slightly frightened, “You smell like fresh roses, so sweet.”

I tried not to show how disgusted I felt, and instead chuckled lightly, “Thank you, Your Grace. Tell me a little secret…do your loyal dogs follow you everywhere?”

The King quirked an eyebrow, prompting me to continue as his clawed fingers pressed a little harsher into my clothed ass, “Or do your guards offer you privacy when times call for desperate measures?”

The King chuckled, leaning down so that he’d be able to whisper in my ear. I tried to remain relaxed as his hot lips brushed against my ear, tone low and words dripping with allure, “They know when not to follow, dear, would you like to see for yourself?”

As the King pulled back, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes dropped to my cleavage again, I knew this was it. I wouldn’t get a better chance where the King and I were alone, “Since you offered so nicely, My King.”

The King’s eyes darkened significantly as he released his bottom lip and licked his lips, nodding once. Before I could change my mind about what I had agreed to and flee, the King took a step back and released my body, however still kept a firm grip on our intertwined fingers, our gloves a clash of colours against each other. The crowd seemed to part as the King walked through it, curious eyes watching closely as I followed after the King, struggling to keep up with his long strides, but he wouldn’t slow down for me. I gripped the skirt of my dress and raised it above my ankles in order to not trip, paying close attention to my surroundings for when I needed to escape. It wouldn’t be easy as we were on the third floor and all windows seemed to be locked in the long corridor, and I could only hope I would find a hidden door that would lead through a passageway, helping me escape once I had killed the King.

I didn’t expect us to stop so soon, and so I ran into the back of the King, making him chuckle. He wordlessly pushed the door open for us, and allowed me to walk in first, releasing my hand. I took a deep breath before I stepped through the threshold and tried not to gape at the size of the library I had just stepped foot inside. The walls were covered in nothing but endless shelves of books upon books, a room that had two floors, ladders pressed up against the tall bookshelves for when you needed something from a higher shelf. The room was beautiful, and something vexing like jealousy plunged deep in my gut, jealousy that the King had all of this beauty at his feet while others had to suffer out in the cold streets, begging for a shilling as nobody had much money to pay up. But before I could marvel at the beauty of the library even more, I felt myself yanked backwards. The wind was knocked out of my lungs as my back collided against the sturdy bookshelves, and I panicked thinking that my identity had been discovered, that the King finally had enough of me. I was ready to fight him, grab my hidden dagger and stab him in the heart, fight and flee afterwards, but what I didn’t expecting was to feel his blood-red lips pressing against mine. I froze, eyes wide in awestruck as the King’s lips were warmer than I thought they would be, and really soft. It was a crime that somebody like him had lips like that. Out of distress, I grabbed his biceps and went to push the King away, but I realized that would be a mistake. How else could I distract him if not like this? He’d have his guard down, offering me the perfect chance to stab him. And so, I swallowed the disgust bubbling up my throat and forced my eyes to close as my fingers dug into the King’s skin through the soft fabric of his white shirt.

His right hand grabbed my jaw to tilt my head up, making it easier for him to continue leaning down to kiss me, his rings not quite digging into my skin, but dangerously close to doing so. My heart was racing as the King’s lips started moving against mine, not soft at all, not careful nor patient as I forced myself to reciprocate it. It was hard, every fibre in my body was screaming at me to stop this, that I could distract him somehow else, but a more logical side of me knew that I just couldn’t. I was doing this for Aurora, for the Kingdom of the Fallen, and so I relaxed against the King’s strong body and forced my thoughts to silence. My arms raised and I wrapped them around the King’s shoulders, pressing up on my tip toes to kiss him better, opening my mouth for his lips to fit better against mine. The King didn’t waste time as his tongue slipped past my lips and lapped at my mouth furiously, a moan slipping past my lips as I fisted the black strands of hair sitting neatly on his nape. The King seemed to enjoy that as his claws suddenly dug into my skin, making me whine as his tongue brushed against mine, licking at it in a way I didn’t know was possible, my knees weakening involuntarily as the King’s body pinned me against the bookshelf, immobilising me, caging me between himself and the bookshelves. It was a little scary, but I didn’t dwell on it as the King sucked on my tongue, completely dirty and nothing like I have experienced before, my cheeks flaring as I felt his gloved hand settle at the base of my throat. My heart picked up thinking that he would try and choke me, rob me of my already waning air, but instead, it slowly slipped towards my breasts, cupping my right one harshly. I moaned and chased after his mouth as he pulled slightly back, slotting my upper lip between his, suckling on his bottom one as the King started massaging my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, groaning loudly into my mouth.

It was starting to get hot around me, our actions affecting my body in ways it long hadn’t been affected like, the touches of the King igniting a dormant fire deep in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t fair that he could elicit such a reaction out of me, not when I bore nothing but hatred towards him. It wasn’t fair that I had to go out of my way to do something I didn’t wish to do in order to get rid of the tyrant, and it only fuelled the fire in my veins as I latched onto the King’s lips furiously, setting a pace that was bruising to our already swollen lips. Low groans slipped past the King’s lips as our noses kept knocking against each other, his right hand leaving my face as it went behind my body, grasping my ass painfully. I gasped and tried not to recoil when the King suddenly licked at my bottom lip, humming lowly in the back of his throat as he flushed our lower bodies together, rutting into me. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I refused to open my eyes, scared that I would run away if we made eye contact. The King groaned as he massaged my flesh through my dress, and the hand still squeezing my breast finally disappeared and grabbed onto the other cheek of my ass before it slowly slipped back onto my lower back, fisting my dress. My chest was rising and falling quickly, and I tried to regulate my breaths and clear my mind, assess the situation in order to be able to proceed. But suddenly, I felt cold metal pressing into my skin, grabbing my jaw firmly.

“Open your eyes, little dove.” My heart did a somersault and I froze, thoughts running a million per hour, panicking. Had he finally realized who I really was? I felt teeth sinking into my bottom lip painfully and I whined as my eyes snapped open, freezing as the King’s dark eyes were right in front of mine. His neck, ears, and cheeks were flushed red, lips swollen and glistening with saliva. His pupils were dilated and he smirked as he massaged the small of my back, suddenly his thumb swiping across my lower lip. I couldn’t look away, it felt like he had bewitched me, locked me into place as I struggled to fill my lungs to the brim with air. I was scared, waiting for the predator’s next move, trying to anticipate what he’d do next. But I certainly didn’t think he’d slip the sharp metal ring inside my mouth, forefinger pressing against my tongue, “Suck.”

I gulped and maintained eye contact with the King as I licked his finger, trying to ignore the animalistic look on his face as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked on his ornament decorated finger slowly, swirling my tongue around it. The King leaned closer, lips hovering dangerously close to mine, brushing against his own knuckles. The King was panting hard as he slipped his middle finger too inside my mouth, and I tried to remain calm as I became aware of the ache in my right hand, the mark he had given me three years ago suddenly burning as if it were freshly made. I wouldn’t be able to handle this for much longer, gut twisting in sickness, yet my body was pressing harder against the King’s, aware of the neediness that had suddenly overcome it. I pushed my tongue between the King’s two fingers and sucked on them, making the King’s jaw clench until he suddenly pulled them out of my mouth, making saliva drip down my chin. I was embarrassed and my cheeks burned as he grabbed my left thigh, lifting it up and around his hips, pressing his body into mine, the hardness all too obvious in his trousers as he rubbed himself against me. My breath hitched in my throat at the friction, the King’s eyes glossed over as he released my thigh once he was sure I’d keep it there. My fingers tangled tighter into his locks as he allowed his metal decorated fingers to travel up my exposed thigh due to the slit in the skirt, only stopping when it reached my clothed core. I tried to stop the whimper from escaping my lips as I bit down on my bottom one, completely at the King’s mercy as he started rubbing small circles against my clothed clit, embarrassed of how reactive I was to his ministrations. I was aching, clenching around nothing, but I forced myself to stay level-headed as I fisted the collar of the King’s shirt and yanked him down, pressing our lips together once more, forcefully. I locked his hips against mine with my left leg and rolled my hip against the King’s hand, whining as he kept the slow, antagonizing, pace. I made sure he was busy with working me further up as I slowly slipped my left hand out of his hair, down his shoulders, stopping at his narrow waist to squeeze before I carefully removed it from his body, leaning a little forward and into the King in order to reach the top of my white boot.

My dagger was hidden just inside of it, the cold blade pressing against my shin all night long, waiting for this exact moment. I could feel the triumph in my bloodstream as I gripped the handle of the blade, moaning as the King cupped my clothed core, but stopped his ministrations altogether. I didn’t stop kissing him, however, as I raised my dagger high, ready to plunge it deep into the King’s back. But before I could even as much as move my arm, suddenly, my head was slammed to the side, making me hiss loudly at the dull ache in my jaw as it crashed into the bookshelf painfully, my left arm pinned to the bookshelf above myself. I froze, blood turning ice cold as I was afraid to even as much as breathe despite my lungs heaving for air. The King’s nose suddenly was pressing into my left cheek, his sweaty forehead resting against my temple as his breathing was loud and shallow. I didn’t dare move, frozen to the spot. I had been discovered, and now I would die. I would fail Prince San and bring shame to my name. I was nothing but a failure, soon about to meet my brother in Eden.

“Bae Joohyun, you say,” The King chuckled, sounding actually amused, “I didn’t know my own cousin hated me so much she wanted to kill me herself?”

I took quiet breaths, but didn’t speak up. It seemed like the King still had something to say, I didn’t dare interrupt his monologue, “I didn’t think your unrelenting support could turn into hatred in two weeks, cousin.”

Ah, so this is where Prince San had made a mistake. Bae Joohyun and Jeong Yunho had been in contact all this time, and apparently, she was on his side. Prince San should’ve known better, but so should have I. I should’ve trusted my gut feeling this time, and I didn’t, and now I would suffer the consequences. Because darkness always prevailed, no matter how much the good and kind fought for its disappearance.

“People change.” I managed to mutter, right side of my face digging painfully into the shelf. I wasn’t panting anymore, but my frantic heartbeat made it hard to actually breathe, and so I was still struggling to calm down.

“Not you, little dove.” The King whispered, and suddenly I felt lips pressing against my ear, making me jerk. The King was frighteningly strong, and I finally started pushing against him, trying to free myself, but it was futile…as always, “Stop fighting against me, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

“Burn in hell, Jeong Yunho.” I hissed, trying to look at him from the corner of my eyes. The King chuckled, trailing kisses from my temple down to my jaw. I tried to push him off again, but it did nothing.

“Still trying to curse me,” The King muttered, nuzzling his nose against my cheek again, “I suppose you didn’t change, my little dove. Did you think I’d forget? Was it worth that apple?”

My eyes widened to the point of falling out as the King suddenly released me, my head snapping forward as my heartbeat stilled. I went to throw a punch at his jaw, but he completely took me off guard as he grabbed my right thigh too and hiked me up, pressing me into the bookshelf again as he pinned my wrists above my head, the dagger clattering to the floor from my grip. Out of reflex, my legs wrapped around his hips tighter, knowing that I would slip down despite the force the King was pinning me down with.

“You killed my brother.” Was all I managed to whisper, eyes filling with tears. The King shushed me and leaned his head close, his soft features scary all of a sudden as his blank mask slipped back on.

“You killed your brother by stealing that apple and getting caught for it.” The King whispered, eyebrows furrowing, “If you wouldn’t have put up such a fight, I wouldn’t have thrown you in the dungeon, in fact, I would’ve allowed you to take the leftovers from the kitchen for your brother—”

“Screw you!” I screamed, fury lacing every part of my being, heart hammering in my ribcage, “Curse you! Burn in hell for everything you’ve done! You dare mock me to my face about my brother?! I promise you I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sunrise!”

“Bold words coming from such a frail dove like yourself,” The King mocked, pouting as my body started trembling, “I could behead you right in the middle of the ballroom, my little dove.”

I didn’t care anymore what he did to me. He could kill me right here or right in front of an audience, I didn’t care anymore as long as I was free of this miserable life.

“Do it.” I gritted through my teeth, leaning into his face, lips ghosting against his, “Do it, you fucking coward. You could’ve easily killed me in the alleyway that night or in the square, even now, yet all you do is run your mouth with empty threats.”

I knew they weren’t empty threats, that the King would actually kill me in the following minutes, but I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I have seen all grey colours of his, I knew who he was, what he was capable of.

“If I had killed you, where would be the fun in that?” The King raised his eyebrows, pressing a light kiss against my lips, making me jerk my head back, “You think I don’t know my brother and his pathetic of excuse of a guard sent you to kill me? Little dove, if they wanted me dead so bad, why didn’t they come after me? Why did they send you?”

I froze, eyebrows furrowing as the King continued with a small amused smile, “They sent a poor girl that is desperate to avenge her brother’s death, a girl that is so weak she can’t even free herself right now, yet all I’m doing is pin you against a bookshelf, little dove. My brother, Prince San, and his pest, Jung Wooyoung, merely sent a weak and poor girl to kill a King that holds twice the strength she does just because they wanted to use you, because they knew you hated me strong enough to actually do what they asked of you. They knew you had nothing to lose anymore, and they know you do not care for your safety or life anymore, my little dove.”

I was stunned listening to the King’s words, slowly shaking my head no, refusing to accept such words. No, that is not why Prince San and Sir Jung had chosen me to eliminate the King, it couldn’t be. That’s not who those two were, and I would’ve been a fool if I succumbed to the King’s words, letting his poisonous words infect my brain with lies.

“No, you’re wrong, My King,” I whispered, eyes boring into his with such hatred that it ricochetted off my whole being, “Prince Choi and Sir Jung aren’t like you. And if I’m just a means to an end in their grand plan, I do not care as long as they manage to rid the Kingdom and this world of you, Jeong Yunho.”

The King hissed, obviously displeased by my retaliation, by my fervorous belief in the Prince and his Royal Guard, “I see you refuse to see the truth just yet, my little dove, so let me give you two options.”

My eyebrows furrowed as the King leaned so close his breath fanned over my face, dark and piercing eyes boring into mine, his cheeks still tinged red, “The very obvious first option is death, but I don’t feel like getting rid of you just yet, my little dove, therefore, I have a second option for you.”

He paused, a sick smirk twisting his lips to the side, making my stomach drop in dread, “You become my good little obedient spy, my ears and eyes in Aurora, and in return, I shall reward you with immunity.”

“No—” I was shaking my head before he could even finish what he was saying, but the King’s sneering face quickly made me shut up.

“I wasn’t finished talking, Y/N.” My breath hitched, he even knew my name, “You will go back this instant to the pathetic mansion those two idiots are hiding in, and tell them, that if they even as much as dare to think to send someone to assassinate me again, I will dismember Jung Wooyoung in front of Choi San after I dissect their whore of a maid, leaving my dear brother for last, publicly executing him in the square, calling all of the Kingdom of the Fallen together to witness the fall of the Crown Prince. Understood?”

My lips quivered as my eyes filled with tears, my voice merely above a whisper, “No, Your Grace, I won’t—”

“I’m not giving you an option, my little dove,” The King suddenly released my arms, which fell limply next to my body as the King cupped my left cheek with his sharp metal rings, “I’m giving you an order that you will execute.”

I tried to blink the tears away, recoiling when one slipped down my cheek and the King kissed it away, “And once you have delivered my message, I expect you back at the Castle, my little dove.”

My breath stuttered in my throat, wide eyes looking into the King’s dark ones. Suddenly, he bucked his hips and I gasped as I realised he was still as hard as mere minutes ago, making my heart race, “Because little doves like you deserve a reward, and you’ve been awfully pliant tonight, so I will fuck you senseless and teach you a lesson afterwards.”

My blood froze, the colour leaving my face as the King snickered, pressing a soft kiss against the bridge of my nose as he suddenly stepped back, gently placing me back down against the floor. I felt abused, thrown around and mauled, skin burning everywhere the King had touched. I was disgusted, and yet I knew I had no choice but to do as I was told. I belonged to him, and even if I ran, he would find me. I gulped as the King’s gloved fingers danced up my gloved arm, slowly slipping the silky fabric down my hand, making me shiver. I clenched my jaw and refused to look down as the King raised my hand, staring at the damaged skin in awe. His lips were parted and he took a deep breath, slowly leaning down and kissing the maimed skin he had caused with his own hands three years ago. I closed my eyes shut tightly, trying to fight the tears that threatened to escape.

“So beautiful,” The King whispered, hot lips brushing feather-light against the skin of my right hand, “Mine, little dove, you’re all mine. You always have been.”

I gulped as I looked at the King, jaw clenching as I yanked my hand out of his and quickly wore my glove, hiding the atrocious scar that he had caused. The King seemed to be in a trance as he stared at me, making my heartbeat quicken even more when he didn’t say anything.

I needed to leave, I felt like I was suffocating.

“My Mingi will meet you in the back gardens, my little dove, ready with a horse.” My blood ran cold, hands turning into fists as the King turned away from me, walking towards the massive oak desk he had in the middle of the library, “I expect you back in an hour, my little dove, and if you don’t come back, I will burn down everything in my way to find you. Understood?”

I grit my teeth, staring daggers into the back of his head, “Understood, Your Grace.”

And if finding a different way to kill the King would be the cause of my last breath, I would still do it. This wasn’t the end, he hadn’t won yet, because I would always remain on Prince Choi and Sir Jung’s side, always. In fact, the King had made is easier for us to find out all of his weak points, easier to stab him in the back when he least expects it.

If I had to dedicate my whole life to bring down such evil, I would do it over and over again, because in the end, goodness always wins.

❱❱ Next part

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[shortpplfedup]

Ayan being a gremlin to Akk: accurate. Akk being pissy with Aye: also accurate. Getting together isn't a personality transplant operation; they just like kissing each other now they haven't become different people. And people also don't magically know how to be in a relationship, communication and compromise is required. We saw pretty much nothing of established-relationship-post-curse Akk and Ayan in the original series, they literally JUST got together. It's been what, a few weeks in-universe? Maybe a couple months max? Now that they're both starting to heal from their life traumas and out of the pressure cooker of the Suppalo situation and Ayan is reasonably confident that Akk isn't going to end it all, now we are seeing the part where they actually figure out how to be in a relationship with each other (well, some of the early calculus).

These two have ZERO clue how to navigate a relationship. Akk's repressed ass couldn't even acknowledge to himself that he had any kind of romantic inclinations towards anybody until basically moments ago. He is just starting to understand his needs in a relationship through his relationship with Ayan, a person he has never felt the need to people-please with, so yeah, he's salty and snapping. As for Ayan, he's learning that Akk isn't this way because of the circumstances or the environment, he's just like this. He cares about everything and everyone while Ayan cares about what and who he cares about and doesn't really give a rip about the rest of it. There is an intersection there, because what and who he cares about is Akk, but they haven't gotten to that intersection yet where they actually understand what the other person is REALLY asking for. Akk wants Ayan to care more and be less standoffish and more engaged. Ayan wants Akk to care less and be more self-protective and less self-sacrificing.

That general approach is also bleeding into the relationship. Akk wants Ayan to be softer with him (like he was when he was worried he was gonna hurt himself) and Ayan wants Akk to be tougher with him (like he was when he was worried he was gonna tear down everything). It's not an insurmountable problem, but it will require them to use their words, absorb the implications and deliberately alter their behaviours.

Akk's people-pleasing (Ayan's gripe is literally that Akk cares too much about others) and Ayan's self-centredness (Akk's gripe is that Ayan considers himself too much and others not enough) are canon. This is literally what brought them into each other's attention in the first place: Ayan doing whatever he wanted and Akk being pissed about it. Add in that Ayan enjoys riling Akk up for horny reasons and Akk softens whenever Ayan gets affectionate with him. Add in that Ayan has seen in 4k the extreme consequences of Akk's people-pleasing (the literal campaign of terror he rained on an entire school, lest we forget), just like Akk has seen the consequences of Ayan's self-centredness (Thua's anger at Ayan's hypocrisy of staying in while pushing others out).

They just like each other. They haven't become different people. And they now have to learn how to communicate and compromise because liking each other means they care about not hurting each other. Which is one of the themes of the special. One of the things @bengiyo says over and over again on @the-conversation-pod is DICK IS NOT MAGICAL IT DOES NOT FIX YOU. It's why we both bonded over loving drama about staying together more than drama about getting together. This is so intriguing to me, watching this play out, because this is the part romances tend to ignore, either because they end before they get here, or they gloss over here with a time skip. As somebody invested in the intricacies of long-term relationships and the compromises people make or don't make along the way, this is working all over for me.

#our skyy 2 #our skyy x the eclipse #the eclipse #the eclipse series

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Bubblegum Bait

Aaron Hotchner x undercoveragent!reader

Summary: Interpol, France HQ, asks the BAU team for assistance to retrieve their missing agent from a sex trafficking case that coincidentally landed on the BAU's radar. Turns out, as Hotch took the initiative to go undercover, you were already planning your escape.

Warning: use of Y/N and L/N (not a lot), curse words, violence, sexual advances and innuendos (and more, tell me if you spot them)

A/N: this is my first Aaron Hotchner post, have mercy lol.

Derek whistled, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Old money, hot daddy."

Emily bursted out laughing, throwing her head back against her seat. David gave his best—he really didn't—to fight the chuckle threatening to rattle out of him, settling for a tight-lipped smirk.

"I was going to say that!" Penelope argued, turning to Hotch with a huge grin on her face. "Them ladies are 'bout to get an extremely Hotch meal."

Aaron depressingly placed a hand over his forehead, weighing all his options, regretting all his decisions. His ears glowed bright pink.

It wasn't like he had never worn a suit before, but this suit wasn't particularly the same as the ones he wore everyday. This one smelled strong and sexual, radiating opulence and grandeur.

His hair was out of control, as if he was a rabid man. The cologne that laced on the sides of his neck were reminiscent of asshole and arrogance. It would've been fine if he was still in college, but he was four decades in his life time for pete's sake.

He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder, turning to find the culprit of his demise. "You don't have to do this, Agent Hotchner." The woman with salt and pepper hair gave him an apologetic look.

"We're still working on identifying the victim. It's like she never lived here." Penelope stated as she pressed a button on the remote control.

"That's because she didn't." They all turned to find a woman in her sixties, accompanied by a lot younger man. She stepped inside the conference room, "Jeanne Renaud, chief of the Lyon Interpol Headquarters."

Aaron stood up, reaching a hand out. "Aaron Hotchner." He gave her a curt nod. "I didn't get any notice about your arrival. We're unfornately about to work on a case."

A tight-lipped smile ran along her lips, motioning for the man behind her. The man began to distribute folders around the table. "The victim is Liliane Zairsev. She's from Paris and a suspected victim of sex trafficking. A month ago, we found out that this organization is moving here in America. One of us was tasked to work undercover. We haven't heard from agent in a week. Three days later, we hear news about dead women who had the same victimology as the ones in the file, Liam handed out." She breathed deeply, crossing her arms close to her chest.

"Thirty-two victims?" David raised an eyebrows. If three was a horrifying sign in their line of job, he couldn't imagine the terror of the number he just mentioned.

"We need our agent back, Agent Hotchner. We need your help." Jeanne pleaded, worry flickering in her eyes.

Aaron's eyebrows softened, "Hotch is fine." He said kindly, despite the sternness of his voice. He cleared his throat, turning to his team. "I go inside, find her, and then get us out when I give the order." He recapped, laying out the plan in brief detail.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

"The night starts with auctions. There are two types of categories, dine in or take out. We're not sure which one she's in. We don't even know if she really is there. No matter what, once you find her, fight for her worth." Liam explained, checking the wires that hung like vines around Aaron's body.

Aaron kept silent, running every possible outcomes in his head. He wasn't knew to auction events, but how would he show eagerness rather than desperation? How was he going to save you without everyone figuring out that he was a federal agent and possibly risk both of your lives?

Liam straightened himself, signaling Aaron that he was done. "Dine in or take out, as long as you choose an exclusive package deal, they will grant you a private room. That's where they would possibly prepare her for—" He paused, clenching his jaw. As your close friend, he wasn't comfortable talking about you in such disrepectful ways. But Liam knew how vital every single information he gave Aaron. "—your pleasure... She will likely be sedated, but she fights like a lion. Just calm her down and get her out of that hell hole."

It didn't take a whole team of profilers to know that Jeanne and Liam didn't merely take this mission as part of their job. It was personal. It was family. You were their family, and they wanted you back.

"I'll get her back." Aaron promised, earning a nod from the younger man. He plugged the earbud that Liam handed him.

Everyone waited for Aaron in front of the building. Some of them, Penelope and Derek, have yet to fade their teasing smiles.

But JJ was the one who had an encouraging smile, "You look good. Take her back home to her family." She fixed his tie, tapping his chest with a load of silent 'good luck.'

David threw a set of keys in his direction, "Don't hurt her. She's the only wife that stayed for more than ten years."

Aaron let out a small chuckle, eyeing a 1984 black Cadillac Eldorado biarritz convertible. "I'll bring her back by midnight." He got on the driver's seat, feeling the texture of the wheel. If only David had the kindness to whip his vintage cars out every case, Aaron would've loosen up the lines on his forehead.

"Always remember, we're inside your head." Emily pointed at her ear, creepily grinning at him

"We'll be following you too, of course. We're going to surround the place, so don't hesitate to call us in." Derek added, chuckling at Emily's words.

Aaron nodded, taking a deep breath. He started the engine and made his way to you.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

"Struggling will only make it hurt more." The man with sculpted arms growled, glowering at your smaller body compared to him.

Cuffs bit the skin around your wrists and ankles. Cold hovered all over your exposed skin. With the little amount of coverage on your body, naked was the closest you could describe yourself.

The man held you by the neck, treating you like an animal for exhibition. He was getting off your winces, how a small whimper would shiver out of your lips when he dragged you too fast. He thought he could do them to you because you were sedated.

If he only knew how much you wanted to smash his face on the wall. But you had to keep an act.

Besides that was all he could do. Watch. Because you were for other people to ogle at. For disgusting, coward men who couldn't make their wives cum, much less you even if you tried.

You were a new addition to their attraction. Tonight was your first night. And you planned for it to be the last.

A woman, who was trying her best to avoid eye contact with you, walked the opposite way of where you were headed. She carried a tray, where a small letter knife sat seductively.

Half of her face was lined by a scar, dragging diagonally across her left temple down to her right cheek. Although the scar was visible, you couldn't help but notice how beautiful her eyes were. They were of bright grey-blue.

Without missing your chance, you purposely bumped on her, falling on your feet. "Sorry," You weakly smirked, swiping the knife in a blink of an eye.

"You fucking bitch! Look where you're going, you ugly shit!" The man shouted at the woman, kicking the tray in the middle of her picking it up.

You drilled in your head how many times you would apologize to her when you managed to escape the place and watch it crumble down during your arrest.

"It was my fault," You defended timidly. Despite the mental promise and keeping an act of being sedated, you couldn't just stand there and let her take all the blame.

The man glared at you and swung his arm. You prepared for the harsh impact, but another guy called out his name.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you fucking stupid?!" The other man yelled, he had blonde hair and awful beard.

You took that chance to slip the knife on your back, strapped under your bra's band, hiding it beneath the cascade of your hair. You bit your bottom lip, your movement causing a slight sting to shoot down your spine. At least you were certain that the knife was sharp.

The blonde man yanked you to his side protectively, as if what he was about to do was going to be a god-like behavior. "She's a new attraction. No one would pay if she's damaged. A bruise would lose us thousands of dollars, you stupid fuck." He lectured the other, nudging you to move.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron immediately felt dirty just by standing amongst the men that impatiently waited for some tits to jiggle or ass to bounce across the one-way mirror.

Each of them either holding wads of cash or a glass of their chosen drinks. Most of them were wealthy nobodies, but Aaron recognized a few politicians from distant cities.

He lifted the glass of old-fashioned close to his lips. Aaron has been catering the drink for a good two hours now, sipping little drops to keep himself sober and alert.

So far he hasn't seen you. There just might be hope that you were simply in hiding, but safe regardless. He has seen fifteen women being shown off like antiques, the men screaming for their high prices. If he could only buy all of them to safety, he would. But Aaron was there for you and you only.

"Gentlemen! Here's our special and last beauty of the night! She's new! Fresh! And untouched! She is available for dine in to the highest bidder!"

Aaron's grip on his glass tightened.

Jeanne slid a picture of you towards Aaron. "Her name's Y/N L/N. She's a brave one." Her breath hitched, fighting the urge to cry in front of profilers.

Your hair was tied up away from your face, revealing all your beautiful facial features. You were no doubt a gorgeous woman.

But besides your attractive face, Aaron's eyes were drawn to the gold necklace that sat on your chest. It was a gladiolus flower. A hidden smile spread over his lips.

It symbolizes strength and power. He immediately knew you were someone who always put up a fight.

Your hair almost hid the beauty of your face, but Aaron recognized the necklace around your neck even from afar. It was you.

"$20,000!"

"$50,000!"

"50! Anyone want to top that? What? I heard $80,000!"

"100,000 dollars!"

Aaron stared at your dagger glaring eyes. He let a smirk twitched his lips.

You knew.

You knew where you were. You knew men were fighting for you. You knew. Which meant, you weren't sedated at all.

"Smart girl," He mumbled to himself before announcing, "Five billion."

The crowd went quiet. And if Aaron was being honest, he would've paid more, because you were worth more.

Sadly, the bureau had a budget. He had to limit himself at 500 thousand and could move to 1 million if needed, but he'd explain his actions in the privacy of his office later on.

In that moment, he only needed to rescue you.

The announcer grinned maniacally, hitting the gavel against the sounding block. "One night dine in with this beauty, sold!"

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

You weren't sure what type of man was unlucky enough to buy your time tonight. You bet he wouldn't expect a violent woman like you.

Contrary to your display earlier, you were now clothed with more fabric. Satin to be specific.

They made you change onto a black lace set. The bra pushed up every tits you could offer. A cheeky underwear that made your ass rounder. A garter around your waist that hooked on your black stockings that hugged your thighs deliciously.

You moved the letter knife on your right thigh. An easy access under the short black satin nightgown. You were prepared for battle.

The door swung open, came in the blonde man that seemed to keep his eyes on you. "Sit on the chair." He demanded.

You internally protested, but obliged. He placed back your handcuffs, but kept your ankles free. In his mind, there was no other way for you to escape but the door.

"This guy paid a lot for your time. Don't mess up. Or I'm going to make you regret it." He threatened before leaving the room.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

The payment process was crucial. Money was an immediate factor, Aaron mentally apologized to David for using his card, and for memorizing his bank account's information.

They led him down a hall filled with private rooms. Pornographic noise's echoed as they passed each door. Most from men. And if a voice of a woman managed to vibrate across the walls, they were of plea to be let go.

Aaron swore his ears were bleeding with disgust.

"This will be your room, Sir. Enjoy." The man excitedly said. He leaned a little, placing a hand on the side of his mouth to hide the words he was about to say, "I say you get the best out of this one. Everyone's dying to get a taste."

He managed to hold his fists back, urging a smug smirk to roll over his lips. "Then, I suggest you don't disturb us." Aaron stated before watching the man nod and walk away.

Aaron held the knob with hesitation. He wasn't sure of what he was going to be met with. He took a deep breath and twisted the knob, pushing the door open.

There you were, sat on a chair, patiently waiting for him.

The image was to be treasured, but Aaron had to remind himself that he wasn't the men that frequented that place.

A spark flickered in your eyes. Your lips slowly curved onto a smirk. "Hey, old man." You started in a teasing tone. "You can't just stand there and keep the door open."

Aaron's eyebrows knitted, but closed the door nonetheless after checking that the coast was clear from listening ears. "I'm Aaron Hotchner—" You cut him off.

"Strip." You casually ordered, taking him by surprise. "What are you? A cop? Fed? It's fine. It doesn't matter. Now, Aaron, strip. They're watching." Your head motioned towards the direction of the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

He took off his jacket, then began to undo his tie. "Fed. How did you know? We were thorough on my disguise." Aaron couldn't believe how amused he was. Thank god his microphone was off after Penelope begged him to turn it off due to the moans and asked to turn it back on when he found you.

You rolled your eyes, "A fine looking man like you doesn't look the type to wear a wrinkly shirt. You're obviously wired." Your voice echoed a matter-of-fact tone. "You took your first step with your left foot when you got inside the room, but it's clear to me that your dominant is your right. You have a gun on your foot. Which I think is pretty impractical. Come closer, you're here to fuck me, remember?" Your brows were raised, impatient for him to move.

Aaron would be lying if he said you words weren't affecting him. "You have a good eye." He stood before you, glowering down your face.

"Or you're just a bad undercover." You smirked, "What are you waiting for? Kiss me."

A silent huff escaped your lips when he froze. You stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt. "You're very quick to have cold feet, Agent Hotchner." The way his name rolled off your tongue was distracting.

"Hold my waist—" You swiftly grabbed his hands and placed them on your sides. "—once you have a character to play, you embody it. Because it'll get us both killed if you don't." You kissed little of his exposed chest and looked up at him with a hairpin stuck between your lips. "Now, kiss me." You repeated in a muffled sound.

Aaron finally caught up with your plans. He leaned down and owned your lips, kissing the pin from you. With one hand, he took the pin and reattached your lips together as he began to unlock your cuffs.

You pulled him closer, tugging his belt loops. You led the two of you on the corner of the room, under the vision of the camera. And just as your back made contact with the wall, you felt your hands free.

You pulled away with a gasp of relief, "Thank god, I thought I had to fuck your brains out before you could even understand." You heaved, rotating your wrist to let the blood circulate once again.

Aaron looked away, "Sorry. I was a bit taken aback." He couldn't help but notice your closeness.

"Mhm, must be that old-fashioned you've been sipping like coffee."

His gaze shifted back to you. The taste might've been lingering on his lips, but the action he took? How did you know he was taking his time with his drink? Aaron would think that you're a profiler if he didn't know any better.

"You owe me a bubblegum," You exclaimed, pulling him back from his trance. "I prefer a proper old fashioned. Whoever made your drink was pitiful."

Aaron raised a brow, "I'll pay you a box of bubblegum just for that statement." His eyes were drawn to your purple wrists. "Did they hurt you?" He asked, fanning his breath on your skin.

"They wouldn't even if they wanted to. My beauty has never failed to save my ass." You chuckled, getting a whiff of his scent. Your nose crinkled, "Who made you wear that nasty cologne?"

He chuckled at your expression, "Jeanne."

Your face softened, nodding. "Makes sense. She has bad taste in men."

Aaron was having too much fun, when a voice echoed in his head.

"Hotch, are you there? If you don't answer, we're going to barge in."

He pressed the microphone, "We're fine."

"We?" Derek questioned from the other line.

"I'm with Y/N. We're about to make our way out." Aaron conversed, still flushed against you, caging you in his build.

"Y/N? Earlier she was just a her and now you're on first name basis?" Emily teased, which Aaron rolled his eyes on.

Your brows knitted, confused by his expressions. While he busied himself chatting with whoever was speaking in his ear, you began climbing on him like he was a ladder.

You fished your knife and cut the wire of the camera. Aaron's height was a huge help for you to reach such a high place.

He helped you get down, gently holding your waist to guide you. "Don't tell me you were already planning to escape?" Aaron was filled with amusement.

"I was going to kill you if you weren't a fed." You shrugged, walking out of his body cage. You picked up his jacket, "Mind if I borrow this?"

"It doesn't suit me anyways," Aaron kidded, earning a soft smile from your still plumped lips.

"Oh, really?" Derek taunted in his ear.

You glanced back at Aaron, "Tell your friends we're on our way out. They should meet us halfway. The guys outside are not skilled in combat, but they have guns. We'd be dead before they can even shout 'hallelujah' if they don't move now." You slipped your arms inside the sleeves of the jacket.

The jacket could almost swallow your whole body. You rolled the sleeves up a little. Aaron couldn't take his eyes off you. He loved the way his clothes looked way better on you.

"Did you get that?" Aaron spoke to his ear, nodding when he got a confirmation. He glanced at you with a stern look, and you two would never admit the small tug on his lips. "Let's get you out of here."

You scoffed, "Your help is just a bonus. I'm saving myself out of this hell hole."

With silent agreement, you opened the door, immediately greeted by two men who were about to check on your state.

"Hey—" You didn't give one of them the chance to finish shouting when you kicked his adam's apple straight into the center of his throat.

Aaron's eyes widened. Did the France Interpol really need the BAU's help? You definitely didn't look like you did.

You took the two men all by yourself, stepping on someone's back as you placed a hand on your hip. You stared at Aaron with disbelief. "You just gonna stand there?"

Before he could even respond, Aaron saw a man about to attack you from behind. He pulled you by the waist with one hand and punched the man with the other.

"You okay?" Aaron twisted his neck to your direction, hand still on your waist.

A wide grin swiped over your lips, adrenaline pumping through your veins. And your body moved like it was dancing on an upbeat music.

The two of you fought your way out of that hallway alone. It made every second of waiting to escape worth it.

By the time the team met you, you and Aaron have beaten up about half of the men in the place, minus those who were merely guests.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Jeanne attacked you with a tight embrace, cutting your air supply. "I'm so glad you're safe! Oh, mon dieu!"

Next came Liam, punching your arm. He offered a welcoming smile. "I told you to always keep your tracker with you." He scolded lightly.

"I did!" You reasoned, a playful smile over your face. "I swallowed it, but I didn't expect to shit it out and flush it down the toilet." If you were lying it would've been way easier, but you weren't.

The BAU team introduced themselves one by one. You flashed them the same sweet smile you had on your picture.

"Behavioral analysis unit..." You nodded in thought. "Sounds legit." You added with a smile.

Their eyes couldn't help but notice how Aaron's jacket still sat around your shoulders. They weren't so slick as they thought, "It's collateral." You lifted your shoulders.

They looked at you with narrowed eyes. A chuckle coming out of your lips, you motioned your head in Aaron's direction where he was talking to Jeanne and a short-haired, dirty blonde woman.

"He owes me," You announced playfully.

Spencer was the first to furrow his brows closer than it already was. Why would their boss owe you? Aaron literally saved your ass.

"I can hear you judging me, Dr. Reid." You said without moving your gaze onto his. "Is that a side effect for being a genius?"

Emily's mouth flung open, "How'd you know he's a genius? He looks like one, right? Right?" She was friendlier than you had concluded.

You smiled, glancing at Spencer. "I've been an undercover for sixteen years. Reading someone became my second nature. I suspect it's the same for all of you, since you can't stop knitting your brows as if you're reading a difficult textbook."

"Sixteen? How old are you?" Derek had a great estimation of your age, everyone did.

"She's thirty-three. So old right?" Liam wrapped an arm around you, grinning.

"You started when you were seventeen?" Spencer curiously asked. An underlying question in his mind. How?

You pursed your lips, a small pop echoing between all of you. "You know those movies where the main character was raised to be an assassin?" They nodded simultaneously, like children eager for their mother's story. "My life was kind of like that. And when I was rescued, I didn't know how to do anything else." You explained carefully.

The others joined you, making short eye contact with Aaron. Jeanne stood next to you. "And we're sad that she's retiring." She announced lightly.

JJ looked at you in awe, you were only a few years older than her. It was inspiring to hear your story. "What are you gonna do after you retire?"

"Find a job that's less undercover work, but still occupies most of my days. Old habits die hard." In short, you didn't have a plan. All you knew was that after the case, you didn't want to work as undercover anymore.

"Come work with us!" Penelope blurted, earning everyone's attention. She glanced at Aaron, "We have an opening. Right, Hotch?" A sly smile decorated her cheery face.

Aaron raised his eyebrows, then met your gaze. He does still owe you a box of bubblegum, if he remembers clearly. And seeing your gorgeous face and watching you take down unsub more often didn't sound like such a horrible idea.

He bit the threatening smirk on his lips. "Yeah, I think we do."

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #cm #criminalminds #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 15

read on ao3 (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 2.5k

Chapter 15: 'Bloodstream'

Juliet's POV:

The floorboards creaked as Juliet stepped into the living room. She cringed and her eyes darted to Joel’s motionless body on the floor beside the couch, his head still cushioned by her jacket. 

A sharp sting of fear pierced her heart as Juliet waited for Joel’s chest to move. Her steps rushed towards him, darting around the furniture in the room. Eventually, as she staggered upon his resting form, she watched his chest rise and fall, a soft groan escaping his closed lips. Juliet’s breath rushed from her open mouth, her whole body sagged in relief as she bent down in front of him. 

The apology she had drafted inside her head, while standing outside in the cool night air, died on her tongue. Joel didn’t look angry, he didn’t look disgusted, instead, he looked almost peaceful. No doubt, his stab wound was still excruciatingly painful, but in sleep, that didn’t show. Juliet reached out her bloodstained hand, fingers trembling, towards his face. She wanted to smooth every line on his forehead, soothe every anxious thought from his mind, stroke the surprising softness of his lips. But she stopped herself, her hand halted only an inch from his face. Juliet could feel the heat from his breath caressing the tips of her fingers. She closed her eyes.

Joel was alive, Joel was okay, Joel was still with her… for now. Juliet repeated the words in her head as her fingers hovered over his face. She wouldn’t touch him again, she wouldn’t dare feel his rough skin against her smooth flesh. Juliet wouldn’t allow herself to submit to the desire that lurked under her skin. If she touched him again, she didn’t know what she’d do. Juliet couldn’t predict herself around Joel. He’d changed her, chipped away at her usual defences, allowed her to see a part of herself she didn't know existed. 

It was dangerous. He was dangerous. Juliet had known that since her first day in the Boston QZ.

She opened her eyes and stood up, moving to sit on the armchair opposite Joel. Juliet sank into the dust coated cushions, coughing softly when a cloud blew upwards into her face. As soon as her body touched the plush fabric, an intense tiredness attacked her mind and her eyes closed. 

Joel was alive, Joel was okay, Joel was still with her. Juliet let the words lull her to sleep, her breathing imitating the rise and fall of Joel’s chest as she let the terror of the day fade from her mind. 

……………………………………………..

Juliet woke to the sound of grunting. Her eyes fluttered open, sunlight invading her vision as she sat up. Her back ached from sleeping on those stiff cushions all night. Juliet rolled her neck, her mind was still fuzzy as she yawned. Then she heard another grunt, followed by a curse. 

“Joel?” Juliet groaned as her eyes finally focused on Joel’s struggling form. He was trying to stand but his body was too weak. That didn’t stop him from attempting to pull himself up using the coffee table, though.

Juliet leapt from the armchair and instantly broke her new rule: she touched him. Juliet grabbed his shoulders without thinking, her fingers gripping his soft flannel as she positioned her body behind him, taking his weight. 

“Leave me, I’m fine,” he growled, the sound vibrating right through to Juliet’s chest pressed against his back.

“You’re not ‘fine’... you were stabbed,” Juliet gasped out between rough breaths as she struggled to hold him upright. “Please stop moving,” she pleaded after she caught her breath. 

Joel came to his senses and stopped attempting to claw his way onto the couch, his body sagged against hers. 

“Okay I’m going to push you up on three…” Juliet croaked out. She could imagine Joel rolling his eyes at her shaky command.

“One, two…”

On “three”, Juliet pushed against Joel’s shoulders with all of her strength as he gripped the couch cushions, rolling himself onto the sofa with another loud groan. Juliet tilted backwards, just catching herself before hitting the floor. Reaching a hand behind her, Juliet pushed herself up, now standing over Joel as his body stretched out on the sofa. Her eyes darted to the gauze peaking through his rolled up shirt, checking for any fresh blood. There was none, thankfully. 

Juliet had to force her gaze up to Joel’s face, sweat coated his forehead and dampened his hairline. She wanted to look away, her mind screamed at her to look somewhere else, anywhere else, but it was like time had rolled backwards to the night before and she was still leaning over his body after painstakingly stitching his wound closed. She was locked in his gaze again, Joel’s dark eyes were an abyss she desperately wanted to lose herself in. 

After a moment, Joel’s stare drifted slowly down her body as though he was memorising every detail. He stopped at her stomach, his eyes hardening. Juliet’s forehead creased as she followed his stare, then she realised what had caught Joel’s intense attention: she was still covered in blood, his blood. It coated the bottom of her t-shirt and both of her hands. 

“Were you hurt?” he questioned in a harsh, demanding tone. 

Juliet shook her head, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“It’s your blood,” she whispered back, the horror of the memory kept her from speaking louder. She didn’t want her voice to crack as she answered. Joel was stained with it, too. Surely he noticed the dark red patches which soiled his shirt and the top beneath it. Joel wasn’t looking down, though, he was still staring at Juliet with an intensity she wanted to run from. 

Seconds later, Joel shifted, his whole body flinching as if he finally remembered what happened the night before. His head pulled back like he’d been slapped. 

Juliet wanted to scream. She wanted to grab him and pull him close again. She wanted to grip his shoulders just to push him away. Every look he’d thrown her way, every touch he’d grazed upon her skin crawled over her at once. Juliet was frozen, waiting for Joel to say something, anything, to dispel the tension, to allow her to breathe properly again. 

“Thanks,” was all he said, turning his head away from her, severing the eye contact. The action hit Juliet like a blow to the chest, she almost stumbled backwards. Last night she had armed herself to walk into the room and beg on her knees for Joel’s forgiveness, to tackle the consequences of that kiss head on. At the same time, a small part of her had hoped, selfishly wished, that Joel wasn’t horrified by the kiss, that his loud groans were actually signs that he enjoyed it. 

That part of her died when Joel turned his head away from her, dismissing her entirely. She had stitched him up, saved his life, but nothing more happened, and nothing more would ever happen. Juliet swallowed the lump crawling its way up her throat and stepped backwards, running her hand, still stained with his blood, over her face.

When she was far enough away from him, Juliet straightened her back and blew out a long breath. 

“I’m going to see if I can find us some clean clothes,” she muttered, hesitantly looking over at Joel again. He didn’t even turn to face her, just nodded his head in a sharp, dismissive movement. 

Juliet fled from the room on unsteady feet. She had gotten what she had wanted, there was no mention of the kiss between them. 

Juliet didn’t expect it to hurt this much. 

………………………………………..

Upstairs, Juliet searched each room for wearable clothes for her and Joel. Tears burned in her eyes but she kept looking, kept pretending that there wasn’t an ache in her heart again. In the first bedroom she found a tank top around her size and in the next bedroom she found a flannel. Armed with her new clothes, she rounded the corner and pushed through the door into what she assumed was the master bedroom. Everything looked untouched, just like downstairs. You would never have known the world had gone to hell unless you looked closer and noticed the layer of dust that covered every inch of the room. Juliet thought it was strange that the bed was still made, as if the owner would return to it later, pull back the covers and sink into the mattress after a long day. 

Juliet walked around the haunted room, her eyes gliding over every object, every decoration, every sign that there was once life here. Then her eyes closed and a hot tear escaped from the corner of her eyelid. Home was such a foreign concept to Juliet. Life with her father was a prison, life on the road was a nightmare, and life in the QZ never really felt like her own. Juliet struggled to think of a time when she closed her eyes to sleep and actually felt safe, like she would wake up the next morning without a care in the world. The tear burned against her skin as it rolled down her cheek and dropped onto the clothes tucked against her chest. 

Juliet blew out a breath and kept moving, searching for another closet. Thinking about what she didn’t have was never a good idea. 

Around fifteen minutes later, Juliet walked down the stairs, dressed in her new tank top and flannel with Joel’s new shirt gripped in her hands. She readied herself to see him again. Her heart rate increased with every step but she transformed her features into a neutral expression. 

Walking into the living room, Joel was still spread out on the couch, his eyes closed and his moving in a steady rhythm. Juliet inhaled a breath of silent relief. 

This time, she let the floorboards creak on purpose, waking Joel from his sleep. She needed his attention and wasn’t going to risk touching him again. He opened his eyes with a gasp, immediately searching for Juliet. His head fell back against the couch when he noticed her standing over him, a new shirt dangling from her fingers. Joel reached up and took it from her, stretching it out to see the navy material. He nodded his thanks. Juliet responded by turning around and dragging her backpack over to the armchair, then digging her hands in to pull out a can of food. 

Next, she grabbed her water canister and wet her hands, attempting to scrub off the reminder of Joel from her skin. She kept her head turned away from him, giving him privacy to get changed. Juliet heard him struggle with his wound but she knew he wouldn’t appreciate her help, so Juliet kept staring ahead, fiddling with the can opener in her hand. 

She couldn’t bear to see another look of contempt in Joel’s eyes.  

After a few minutes, Joel had gone silent and Juliet felt that it was safe to turn around. She grabbed her water canister and brought it over to Joel, who sat upright with his back against the couch. Joel, now dressed in his navy blue shirt, had missed the top buttons so Juliet was forced to look at the patch of chest hair it revealed. 

Juliet bit the inside of her lip, hard. 

Joel took the canister from her and drank the water in large gulps. Juliet had to look away when her gaze strayed to the muscles in his throat, swallowing down the water. Had it always been like this around Joel?Juliet wondered. Had she always felt such a magnetic pull towards him?It felt as though the kiss had awakened something in her, like she had touched him once and now her skin couldn’t forget how he felt. Longing pulsed through her as his dark eyes quickly grazed over her new outfit while his throat continued to move. 

Juliet tasted blood in her mouth. She looked away, clearing her throat. 

Joel stopped drinking and used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth before he sat the canister on his lap, his legs spread as he leaned back on the couch. 

“Just a couple hours to rest and we can be on our way,” Joel said, his fingers tapping against the metal canister.

“No.” 

His tapping stopped. 

“No?” he challenged, his head tilting to the side. 

Juliet crossed her arms over her chest. There was no way Joel would be ready to continue their journey in just a few hours. He couldn’t even sit up without extreme effort. If they left now, he’d hurt himself even more.

“I didn’t stitch you up just for you to burst it open the next day,” Juliet countered, raising her chin to help make her point. “We’ll stay here tonight and discuss this again tomorrow morning.”  

Joel was shocked, Juliet could see it all over his face. His lips parted as he struggled to formulate a response. Then something shifted, his eyes turned dangerous again. 

Juliet involuntarily took a step backwards.  

“So you make the rules now?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

Juliet ran her tongue over her dry lips. 

Joel’s eyes dropped to her mouth before flashing back up to her eyes, his jaw hardening as he waited for her reply. 

“I make the rules when you’re not thinking clearly,” she replied, shifting on her feet. 

Joel didn’t like that, his hand wrapped around the canister in a crushing grip. Juliet didn’t know how he managed it with his injury but he straightened on the couch, making him seem taller. Joel’s presence dominated her even though Juliet was the one towering over him. She had to stop herself from shivering in response to his wicked stare. 

“I’m not thinkin’ clearly,” he repeated, lengthening the words in his southern drawl. “How so?” he finished after a pause. His voice was lower than usual, darker almost. 

Juliet swallowed. Joel followed the movement. 

“You’re injured,” she whispered in response, losing her bravado every second Joel held her in his piercing gaze. 

“Is that all?” Joel questioned, tilting his head to the side as his stare shifted down her body again. 

Her skin started to flush. Juliet didn’t understand what was happening. One second she was in control, innocently insisting that Joel take a full day to rest his injury, and the next moment, she’s trembling under his gaze again as a hot, traitorous, desire spread through her bloodstream. 

Joel’s fingers began to unconsciously stroke the water canister up and down as he continued to watch her, waiting patiently for her answer. 

Juliet had to put a stop to this, slice the tension, get back to the matter at hand. She tightened her arms against her chest and sucked in a deep breath. 

“That’s all, Joel,” she replied, breaking eye contact as she whirled around and walked towards the half-open can sitting on the armchair. Juliet could feel Joel’s stare heating her back but she didn’t turn around. Surely he must still be delirious from his injury. Joel had never spoken to her like that before. Juliet gripped the can opener, twisting the cool metal with more force than necessary. 

How would she survive the rest of the journey with him acting like this?  

A thousand questions shot through Juliet’s mind, but she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t the only one affected by that kiss.

_____________________________

@amyispxnk @shotgun-shelby

#joel miller #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller hbo #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #ao3 fanfic #tlou #joel the last of us #the last of us #Spotify #pedro pascal

[flare-the-freak]

Made a fix it JJK au bc sillies! So here's some random silly things :3

I post more goofy stuff on my friend's and I's JJK server! I'll drop the invite below ;)

The only reason this somehow happens is because Toji gets paid MORE by Gojo, so he gets a salary by Gojo and ends up more in an uncle position with Megumi and Tsumaki! More in depth is Gojo helps Toji get back on his feet, and actually chooses to yoink Megumi and Tsumaki so they doesn't get stuck with the Zen'in

Suguru DOESN'T defect, but still hates non sorcerers, and sometimes rants to Gojo about how he wishes he could just- implode them! Non-sorcerers tend to avoid Suguru since he sometimes talks about this in public

Curses are actually integrated into society! There's two "types" of curses that you can encounter. The Normal curses we know (Animalistic, runs on fear as fuel, extremely dangerous and tend to kill a ton of people) or "Humanoid" curses, IE Jogo, Hanami, Mahito, etc! Non-sorcerers can see both breeds, however usually only interact with Humanoids!

Yuji, Sukuna, Choso, and Kenjaku (in Ms. Itadori's (does she have a name?) body) all live together. Kenjaku never gets in possession of Geto's body (since he doesn't die) and Sukuna is an elder brother to Yuji, but younger to Choso. Same abilities but toned down

Sukuna is a third year at Jujutsu Tech

Choso is in college, studying the fine arts

Kenjaku is a single mom. She's not the greatest in this, but damn it he's trying! (and genderfluid)

Gojo and Geto teach at JJK tech. Gojo even got Toji a job there!

Rainbow comes back! No one realized curses can reform and keep it's memories, or it's just a special case..but she's back! She found Gojo once when he was on a mission, she very clearly wasn't tethered to Geto anymore, but still clung to Gojo like a giant cat. She shrank herself down to the size of a big dog and followed him home

Gojo and Geto now have Rainbow in their house, Megumi was so mad (Curses don't need to eat though, thankfully. She keeps shredding his bed with her nails though.)

Speaking of Megumi, him and Sukuna have known each other awhile, and Sukuna tries to wing man him AND Yuji (He hates watching them pathetically flirt. It makes him so mad)

Sukuna came home with face tattoos (inspired by a JJK art piece I saw will tag once I find!) after being dared by his friends to get them while drunk. Kenjaku grounded him for 3 months. Anytime someone asks, now Sukuna says it's part of his cursed technique.

oh whoops! dropped some ocs in there! shout out to @notagremlim

for their sona Grem who I've traumatized beyond repair using Toji! GREMJI BRAINROT TIME! <3

Grem and Toji were married, until Toji got involved with some dumb shit and divorced his husband as Toji didn't want them involved. Grem was...not happy when Toji came back. Refused to talk to him for like- 3 months. Toji was like a pathetic cat, and Gojo was not great advice considering bro was a teen dad and still traumatized from getting mauled!

Speaking of getting mauled, Itadori meets Megumi through Sukuna, who had to come pack for a trip and Megumi (against his will) is forced to come with! Gojo wanted Megumi to have experience on the battlefield against the "feral curses" (Geto isn't happy.) And Itadori...man bro is GONE. Even Kenjaku is raising a brow. Megumi summoned the divine dogs to take care of some curses terrorizing some little kids, and Yuji is like "Oh shit! He's handsome and is a dog person?" Sukuna decides to take Yuji with, who then figures out his cursed technique is....well throwing hands. Pretty much canon stuff there but without Sukuna's abilities and the fingers.

Curses are extremely abundant, with humanoid ones actually helping to exorcise the feral ones. Mahito is a bit of a menace though and Jogo and Hanami are just there to keep him in check

Gojo sometimes works overtime to make sure Geto has time off in case he noticed Geto spiraling

(Suguru has to bring this up when Gojo was gone for a week, came home, and immediately collapsed all six eyes out. And yes. He has a legit six eyes here, it's just he hides it with cursed energy! But when he's super excited about something or REALLY tired they pop out, or if he just- is relaxing at home.)

Server join below ;)

#jjk #jjk au #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen au #jjk rambles #satosugu #itafushi #kenjaku is an okay mom #everyone lives au! #jjk oc #jjk anime #jjk manga #jjk rp #jujutsu kaisen oc #oc x canon #toji x oc #gojo x geto #suguru x satoru #flare's rambles #sukuna is an older brother #yuji is whipped for megumi #megumi x itadori #fluff #toothrotting fluff #will be adding more later :3

[bitter69uk]

“New York glitter-punk outfit The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black began life as a near-death experience. Shortly before forming the band in 1990, front woman Kembra Pfahler was strangled in a brutal mugging and almost died. While recovering, battered and zonked on painkillers, she watched the 1975 horror movie Trilogy of Terror on television. The film stars Karen Black, the quirky cross-eyed actress whose wildly erratic career encompasses everything from some of the key American films of the 1970s (Easy Rider, Five Easy Pieces, Nashville, Day of the Locust) to mainstream Hollywood schmaltz (Airport 1975) to obscure straight-to-VHS exploitation / horror dreck. In Trilogy's best-known segment, Black is stalked by and eventually possessed by a cursed malevolent Zuni fetish doll which has come to life. [SPOILER ALERT] It concludes with a final jolting image of the now-crazed and murderous, knife-wielding Black grinning blank-eyed and maniacal to the camera to reveal a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth identical to the Zuni doll’s … In her traumatized state, that savage and disturbing image -- combined with almost dying -- made a powerful impression on Pfahler. Inspired, she would blacken out her teeth, conceal her natural fine-featured beauty under cadaverous make-up and take to the stage clad in little more than a pair of thigh boots and a coat of body paint. Pfahler’s look can suggest a character from a John Waters film given an “ugly make-over”: think of Divine as the acid-scarred Dawn Davenport in Female Trouble (1974), an image which seems to anticipate TVHKB’s twisted glamour. Like Divine before her, Pfahler shaves off her eyebrows and shaves back her hairline to accommodate her extreme eye make-up. “I want to be both very beautiful and very repulsive,” Pfahler would explain to The Toronto Star in 1994.”

/ From my own blog post “The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black at Meltdown Festival 10 August 2012” /

Born on this day 62 years ago (4 August 1961): California girl-turned-NYC provocative performance artist, Cinema of Transgression actress and Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black voodoo-dolly singer Kembra Pfahler. Photo of Pfahler by me!

#voluptuous horror of karen black #lobotomy room #kembra pfahler #performance artist #punk #glitter punk #performance art #new york punk #trilogy of terror #karen black

[magical-girl-brainrot]

thinking about magical girls based on horror subgenres YET AGAIN. this time, rough notes.

the magical girl team we follow, the horror gals, work for what would be the classical big bad of a magical girl story. these gals being a rouge gallery of dark magical girls fighting more traditionally light magical girls.

do any of the horror gals like, actually care about whatever their boss's big plan is? not really they just do their thing then clock out and go home.

the team leader is based on psychological horror. she is THE brains and charm of the operation. she extremely does not care about whatever her boss's big plans are, she just wants to do her job and then go home thanks. i imagine she's sharply dressed just cuz i think that would be a nice vibe.

there's a girl based on gothic horror that while transformed she seems like your pretty typical like, rich girl wanna be royalty one, she acts like she's hot shit. she's not, and when you meet her powered down it's clear that she is not hot shit. honestly a mess normally.

there's a girl based on like, found footage/analog horror, that category of spooooky. her magical girl weapon is a camera she can trap people in. i like to think she uses her time doing magical girl stuff as inspiration for her movies and stuff. she's just kinda vibing off in her own world half the time. has a running gag of people being startled by her showing up even tho she's been in the room the whole time.

of course there's gonna be a magical girl based on slasher films. i don't have a clear picture of her yet but i think it would be funny if she like, played a Big Guy role (you know, the team power house) but she's like, she's a short queen. power condensed into a tiny package. or maybe she's short normally but finally becomes tall while transformed, we'll work shop it.

and then one fun idea i had was one of the light magical girls getting ditched by her team and getting picked up by the horror gals. thus becoming the mascot horror party member. terror in a cute package. for looks are deceiving, and that which looks most innocent often hold vile secrets.

and that's what i have so far. i'm gonna brain storm some other magical girl ideas. see what i want out of a final team. since i wanna get as much range with horror stuff as i can without making a fucking HUGE cast (it's my curse, i have To Many Ideas Always). and figure out what a theme for the light magical girls could be.

anyways that's the post gamers.

#magical girls #magical girl story #magical girl idea #horror #horror magical girls #Team Horror Gals #< that's what i'm gonna tag this project from now on

[infoglitch]

Enough.

... I hate that I'm pissed because I have a fuckin au idea and this time unlike all the ones I haven't posted yet, this one is... Arkos... SHIT.

Ok my own gripe with arkos and pyrrha aside I should probably explain my idea. So basically me being me aka a fuckin thief I decided to say, "let's give jaune a yuta deal from jjk." Because... I'm sorry I've been in jjk brain rot for the last month.. that and writing branded dogma but we aren't discussing that.

So basically after pyrrha dies to cinder it's not ruby who sees Pyrrha's death but it's actually jaune, and jaune unknowingly unlocked his semblance due to this and, well I have a little theory about semblances or at least I would like them to be handled, semblances manifest when a person has reached the peak of a desire, that semblance thus grants that desire. So basically once Pyrrha's dead jaune's semblance is released and it's a little different, I dub his new semblance, "spectral", basically how it works is he can imbue his aura into a anything and forces it to live, or if someone dies he could force their souls into his service. Anyway that's the idea now for some skits.

/////

Jaune found himself walking with Nora, Ren, and ruby as he watched Ruby looking over the map as she seemed frustrated. Jaune sped up and was next to her as they kept walking.

Jaune: h-hey ruby you alright?

Ruby mumbled something before looking at jaune as she jumped back slightly.

Ruby: dear oum! O-oh jaune! I didn't notice you were beside me, w-what were you saying again?

Jaune: o-oh I was just checking in on you is all.

Ruby: oh well I'm doing great, just annoyed with this stinking map.

Jaune nodded as he hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder and said something but ruby didn't hear as her face went pale with a shiver running down her spine with everything around her just vanishing.

Ruby looked around unnerved before seeing a suit of Spartan armor as a green flame burned from inside of it.

Ruby stepped back as she felt her breathing quicken as the suit of armor stared at her, it didn't have a face but Ruby could feel its stare.

???: jaune... Leave... Jaune... ALONE!

The suit of armor dashed towards summoning a spear as Ruby screamed-

Jaune: RUBY!

Ruby snapped out of it as jaune, Ren and Nora all stare at her in concern. With jaune holding her shoulders as he seemed the most concerned.

Jaune: ruby are you alright, you just f-froze and-

SMACK

Everyone stood in shock as a hand print had found itself across jaunes cheek as Ruby stared at him with her right hand raised to the other side of her head, her eyes wide with fear as she trembled in terror.

Ruby: d-dont.. don't touch me.

Jaune: ruby...

Jaune looked at her his eyes filled with confusion. Ruby stepped away from him as Ren looked at Ruby's demeanor closely.

Ruby: just.. d-dont touch me.. ok?

Jaune looked at her still confused but soon nodded.

Ruby and jaune didn't talk to each the rest of the day.

/////

Everyone had found themselves staring down cinders team as everyone had their weapons at the ready but lowered as cinder glanced at each of them with a smug expression before her attention was focused on the strange blonde fool, she didn't know why but the air around him... It felt... Cursed.

Jaune: you... How dare you act like this...

Cinder raised an eyebrow at the fool as her seemed to shake slightly.

Jaune: walking in here.. acting like this.. wearing all the atrocities you've done... LIKE A BADGE OF HONOR!

Everyone in the area could feel the air get.. cold. Extremely cold, as if the bashful fall had let in the apathetic winter.... No, the hateful freezing cold.

Cinder could feel it.. all of this presence.. where was it coming from?

Jaune: I'm going to make you pay... For everything you've done.

Jaune suddenly bolted towards her his sword at the ready.

Jaune: YOU. PIECE. OF. SHIT!

/////

That's all I got.. so far. If y'all got any questions just fire away in my asks and if you got an idea for the au just tell me.

I am desperately craving someone to hit up my asks so.. yeah.

Without anything else.

Rock on till ya drop. Tata mothafuckers 🤘

Cheers 🍻

#rwby #jaune arc #rwby au #pyrrha nikos #jaune x pyrrha #rwby pyrrha #pyrrha x jaune #rwby arkos #arkos #kinda..

[horror-aesthete]

#amc the terror #cornelius hickey #solomon tozer #extremely cursed terror posting #horror movie memes #personal

[radiosummons]

Actually, I think Jason's eyes should glow in the dark.

Yeah, the Lazarus Pit restored him (arguably). And while the side effects of nigh uncontrollable blood lust/rage, green eyes and bouts of extreme depression are pretty neat for angst reasons/the "came back wrong" trope, I'd just think it'd be funny if another side effect was glowing green eyes.

Just picture with me, if you will, a member of the Batfam walking exhaustedly into a pitch black room and then immediately shitting themselves when a pair of cursed eldritch green orbs stare straight into their soul.

And when someone finally turns on the light, they realize it's just Jason raiding the fridge for a post patrol snack.

This is the twelfth time Jason has purposely exploited his fucked up eyes for the sole purpose of terrorizing his family and he refuses to stop no matter how many times they desperately beg him to.

#batman comics #dc comics #jason todd #red hood #the red hood #batfam #batfamily #i just think it'd be funny #let jason be a little more cursed #is all i'm saying

[love-toxin]

song of styx vol II - eddie munson

vol I

plot: the time has come, and your son has been born. in the aftermath, you and Eddie entertain some guests that are eager to meet the newest addition to the Munson family.

cws: birth, descriptions of labour, fem angelface, post s4/s4 spoilers. eddie being a good (read: overprotective) dad, found family trope, brief mention of eddie's dad, implied childhood trauma, mentions of night terrors/PTSD/scars, overwhelming fluff, eddie sings a little, eddie lives au, this is basically a big comfort fic.

song reading recs: Wishing Well - Black Sabbath, Hasta Manana - ABBA

word count: 7.3k

"Still can't believe you wouldn't let me call him Ozzy." Eddie says with a smile over your shoulder, his hands round your midsection. Your brain's still fuzzy, extremities numb and just slowly coming back to life–but you tilt your head back to reply nonetheless. 

"You're still hung up on that? I thought we had a compromise. I can go back to calling him what I wanted." He shakes his head at once, the smile never wavering, and pecks you on the lips while he has the chance. Gentle affection like that hasn't been easy to come by the last few days, the long hours of labour passed with sweat being wiped from your forehead and your grip crushing Eddie's bony fingers as you let out your pain in a myriad of cries and curses to him and his whole family line. 

"No, I like this. 'Jesse Munson'. Nice ring, eh?" A brow raises slightly on your part, but you feel it settle and just roll your eyes as you turn back to the bundle in your arms. He's missing the middle name that he'd insisted on, one that had made you smile when you heard him first say it–but maybe that's because his senses are better than yours, and he can hear the footsteps approaching the curtain that separates you two from the rest of the world. 

"Knock knock?" You'd know that voice anywhere. Eddie finally peels himself off your back and steps around you to cross the distance and tug open the veil that's marked the edge of the room you've brought your child into the world in, and there stands his uncle, soon to be your uncle too. 

"Hey, Wayne." His forehead crinkles as he smiles, first at you, and then down at the baby in your arms. You know there're others waiting to see the little guy, but Wayne was always going to be the first–he was the first one to answer Eddie's frantic call and come peeling down the visitor's driveway after all, and whom you had just caught a glimpse of when you were being wheeled into the room you'd be delivering your son in. He had given Eddie a tight hug and a grip on the shoulder, reminded him to keep it together 'for her'–for you–and you're sure that's most of the reason that Eddie kept his nerve as he held you through every second of that dreaded pushing. 

"You're standing, sweetheart? Not tired?" You stretch out one of your legs unconsciously as he says it, the feeling returning at a faster rate now that the drugs have worked their way through your system…mostly. Wayne's tone is gentle, sweet, it's what you need and you know the stress is easing off now as you draw closer to the older man. 

"Been in bed for too long, I think my legs needed it." You laugh, and he helps to close the distance slowly so as not to disturb the bundle in your arms. Aside from the initial gasp of breath and howling cry, Jesse's been relatively quiet, sleeping like a little angel even as he's been passed between you and Eddie to peer down at that little face and point out whose features have graced it. 

"Oh, look at him…" He's absolutely mesmerized. Eddie comes round to his uncle's other side, and Wayne reaches around him to squeeze him into a side hug and ruffle his hair a bit. You can feel the pride swelling in his chest, and when his hands are free, you carefully pass over your swaddled son into his waiting and gentle arms. 

"Meet Jesse Wayne Munson." His uncle's eyes widen, and a giggle splits your lips as he looks to you before his head tilts to look up at Eddie in disbelief. You really wish you had your camera now, just to catch that expression on his face–especially when Eddie's grin is so big that he shows off all those pearly teeth as he looks back at his son's namesake. 

"Oh, Eddie…that's.." Not often have you seen the older man speechless, but it's not a bad experience when it brings both you and his nephew a giggle. Wayne's attention draws back to the baby as he coughs, before his tiny mouth stretches into a yawn, and you can feel how strong their bond is already. Jesse seems to just nuzzle right into Wayne's arms, like they're already best friends. 

"I want him to grow up to be as great as you are. I want, uh…I want you to be his grandpa. If that's okay." Nobody standing in this room needs it said out loud to know why that's such an important question for your boyfriend, especially not Wayne. The absence of Eddie's father is a sore spot to say the least, and he's been practicing pitching his request to his uncle for practically as long as you've known you were pregnant. 

"You're aging me, Eddie." It's clearly a joke, evident by the grin stretching across his features, and Wayne's finger crooks into the lip of the blanket, grazing the little guy's chin as he lays there sleeping. "My grandson…you made quite the handsome little man." 

Eddie knows that's a 'yes', even you do, and with a shared look between you you're quick to turn to the sight before you again, wanting to drink it in as much as you can. The three of you sit in silence for awhile, and you're grateful for it–it's comfortable, and Wayne seems beyond happy to look down on his great-nephew-turned-grandson like you're sure he probably did when Eddie himself was born. 

"Hafta say, I was worried at first. But seeing you two like this, I know you'll be good parents to this little man." His eyes move to you specifically, his voice smooth with sincerity. "Don't think I've seen two people more in love." 

Eddie beams with pride. That's the highest compliment you think you've ever seen him receive, that you've ever received, and if not for how wrung dry you are right now you would probably shed a few tears seeing how Eddie's trying to wipe his own away. 

"Alright, back to daddy we go," Wayne finally murmurs to your son, a kiss laid upon his little forehead before he's passing him carefully into Eddie's arms. You're certain that by now Wayne must be completely exhausted, he has been here for almost the entire time you've been in labour. 

"Get something to eat, and get some rest, you two. You need anything, gimme a call." Eddie nods in agreement, and with that, Wayne steps out and sheathes the curtain back to protect you two from the beeping and shuffling and chatter of the rest of the hospital. You know Eddie's holding himself back, soothing his sniffles by lifting Jesse up and nuzzling noses so he doesn't cry again in front of you–he already did that once, when he held his son in his arms for the first time, and you're sure after blubbering that hard about how much he looks like you he's had enough of crying for today. 

"He's beautiful. And you're beautiful, mama." He makes his way back to you at the side of the bed, leaning in for a kiss over Jesse's head as you take a seat that you've been needing. Seriously needing. 

"I'm in pain, is what I am." You manage to say it with a smile, but it's a lot more true than you're letting on. Everything feels like it's been shifted, even looking down and seeing your stomach deflated is a strange thing to adjust to–and that's not to speak of the pain that's increasing and decreasing in waves as your body gets used to its new form. One you're still not sure Eddie will like, but he doesn't have any complaints thus far. In fact, the only things he's commented on is how glowing and beautiful you look, and that he's relieved that nothing went wrong. 

"Lay down then, I'll look after him." He adjusts his hold on your little boy, and bumps the bed gently with his hip as he takes a couple steps towards the sofa on the other wall of the little room. 

"You sure?" 

"I'm fine, baby. Not tired at all." You really don't need much more convincing than that, and as you slowly and very carefully shift yourself back up on the bed, your spine relaxes immediately when it hits the soft sheets. It's still propped up so you can see, so it's more like you're leaning back a bit in a sitting position, but it's definitely what you need right now and you let out a deep sigh of relief as you settle in with the blanket pulled over your lap.

Meanwhile, Eddie's put Jesse down on the sofa cushion for a moment as he strips off his shirt, before pulling your little boy up to lean him into the crook of his neck, one hand on his back and one hand cradling him underneath. His tattoos contrast the soft, unblemished skin of your newborn, they show his maturity, his age–and so much of you wonders how much Jesse will take after his father, whether he'll look just like him as he gets older.  

You wiggle a bit to get yourself to relax, and only then feel the weight of the past few days, the past nine months rather, fall on your shoulders and squish you down. Your body sinks into the soft mattress like you haven't been pinned to it for hours upon hours prior to this–but as you're getting as comfortable as you can be all things considering, a humming hits your ears, and your love starts to sing on the other side of your little makeshift room. 

"Look in the water…tell me, what do you see?" The song has no sharp edges, none of the bite that the original has–and you know, because Eddie has played this song for you many times with the promise that he would sing it for your son, along with many others. He bounces him with a gentle hand as he lets the rhythm flow through his voice. 

"Reflections of the love you give to me," He hums on, cooing softly to your son when he starts coughing, before the melody eventually finds its words once more. You swear you've never heard Wishing Well sung so sweetly, so full of love. "Time is a never-ending journey, love is a never-ending smile…" He paces as he sings, humming the guitar riffs in between.  

"I'll give you a star, so you know just where you are," Eddie's eyes catch yours as he walks, gently patting your newborn to settle him as he wiggles against his shoulder. And at the sight of you so entranced in the lullaby, he grins–because he knows that few other people would let some freaky metalhead not only sing Black Sabbath to your baby, but be the father of one in the first place. 

"Some day, some way…." He pauses, head tilting down to look on at his son. "You'll feel the things I say…" 

"Dream for a while," His lips curve upward, and he turns in place like he's doing a mock spin. "Of the things that make you smile…" 

You know this is only the first of many songs you'll hear Eddie sing to your baby, maybe the first of the dozens of hundreds of thousands of songs that he'll teach Jesse to sing along to, and to play on his precious guitar. "Don't you know…don't you know?" He shakes his head a little, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his curls fly to and fro, his headbanging rewarded by the tiniest, most charming gurgle you've heard in your life. 

"That I'm your wishing well." Jesse is lifted up in his father's arms to have a kiss pressed to his head, the fuzzy patch of what might one day be frizzy curls just like Eddie's tickling his nose before he lowers him back down to hug him to his bare chest. 

To think, less than a year ago, you were terrified at the thought of this very scene. Your mind had raced with questions of how you could take care of a helpless baby, how you would even afford one, and what if Hawkins implodes on itself like it seems so prone to doing? What if you would have to, one day, protect your baby from the unthinkable horrors that you and your boyfriend have just barely escaped from? And what if you fail? 

You're still worried, of course. But those worries fall to the wayside when you watch Eddie gazing down at your son, so full of love and so, so happy. Happier than you've nearly ever seen him, the only other moment being when he spotted you coming into his hospital room and holding his arms out to you with tears in his eyes and a sob choked up in his throat. The bone-crushing grip you'd had on his hand during labour definitely makes up for that hug he had given you, that squeeze that nearly strangled you, and said without words "I never thought I would see you again, and I'm so glad I was wrong." 

Just when you're starting to doze off with that thought comforting the aches in your body, your eyes starting to flutter closed, your ears twitch at the sound of more footsteps coming closer–but the volume and speed with which can't possibly be a doctor or a nurse, especially not since you can hear the squeak of sneakers and the bark of the attending nurse telling whoever it is to slow it down. 

The curtain whips open, and in comes barreling one of Eddie's little protégés–curly hair bouncing beneath that baseball cap with every thudding step until he skids to a stop mere inches from your boyfriend, with Lucas and Max close on his heels but with a little more tact to enter quietly. 

"There's my little guy!" Dustin cheers, and as much as you know Eddie wants to chew him out for being loud and obnoxious around your newborn, he just scoffs and rolls his eyes with a resigned smile on his lips. He does lower the baby a little so they can see him better even so, Lucas and Max crowding around him with bright eyes to peer at the little man. 

"You better've washed your hands, you little demons." 

"We're not animals, Eddie! And I'm not the one half-naked!" As per usual, they've already got that banter back and forth that's so familiar to them, but with them, it's purely affectionate. You'd be more worried if they didn't bicker back and forth like grade schoolers. 

"It's called skin-to-skin, butthead. Sit." Eddie cocks his head towards the sofa behind him, and Dustin hurries to drop himself into the seat closest to him with his hands held tentatively in front of him. 

Eddie was beyond protective all throughout your pregnancy, his eyes constantly on your back in case anything perked up his danger detector. But the kids were different–as long as you were okay with it, it was your body and your baby after all, he would let them around whenever they wanted and hang out as long as they wanted. And they did so a lot, endlessly curious about the baby (save for Mike, who had been through the process with his little sister Holly) and always interested in feeling him kick and watching your belly move when he was shifting around. Which, obviously, had been a bit weird for him, since you know he likes his private time and needs a lot of it to conduct his other businesses that the kids don't need to get involved in. But he had stopped all the dealing too, hadn't even smoked but for once or twice aside from a cigarette here and there, because he suddenly had become ultra concerned with secondhand smoke and how it would be bad for the baby. So after all that protectiveness, it warms your heart on a new level to see Eddie pull the blanket back around your son, and lower him gently into Dustin's arms with his hands guiding the younger boy's to make sure he's got his head supported. 

"Skin-to-skin?" Lucas pipes up, having moved past Eddie to sit beside Dustin on the sofa while Max steps over to your bed. 

"It forms a bond with the baby. Helps them calm down, warms them up. It's good for them." They seem satisfied with that answer, or at least Lucas does, because Dustin's absolutely mesmerized by the little sounds Jesse's making and the yawn that he lets out so softly. 

"How are you feeling?" The redhead at your side fiddles with her fingers, worry clearly etched into her eyes that she's probably struggling to will away. 

"I'm on the up. C'mere," So you smile for her, and open your arms for a hug, and Max smiles right back as she takes it quite happily and squeezes you tight. She's had some kind of other sense for yours and Eddie's safety since everything that happened, and for good reason, although you wish a girl as young and sweet as her didn't carry so much guilt on her shoulders. 

"I can't believe you're a mom, and Eddie's a dad…it's crazy." 

"Me neither. He sobbed like a baby." The best thing you can do is make her laugh, and when you do and you can share a giggle with her as you whisper that, it feels like another step is being taken up the hill that you all feel you're climbing just to claw at some semblance of normalcy. The two of you look on at Eddie as he pulls his shirt back on, those deep scars disappearing beneath the black fabric of an Iron Maiden band shirt he's had forever. You pat her arm, give her a look and a tilt of your head, and she grins and squeezes you one more time before hurrying around the bed and slinging her arms around Eddie's middle before he can say "what". And while he hesitates, because he always does, he's a lot quicker to hug her back without a smirk or a teasing comment–they just hold each other, not a word being exchanged except for that silent "I'm glad we're both alive to see this" that doesn't need to be said out loud. 

And when they break away, and Max circles around to sit on the arm of the sofa on Dustin's opposite side, the three of them look on in wonder at the little bundle and take turns holding him for the first time. He's hovering around them still even though they're careful, watching with beady eyes for anything to go amiss. You can practically feel his hands twitching in anticipation for one of them to drop him as they pass him around, and even though it worries him so much, it's so sweet to watch. 

"He's cute." Lucas leans over him now cradled back in Dustin's arms, a smile clear on his face as he looks down on him. "What's his name?" You know your boyfriend's been waiting for this moment, and he puffs out his chest. 

"Jesse." He says proudly. "Jesse Wayne Munson." You know he's rolling the words around in his mouth, getting adjusted to them. Not like he'd ever forget them, though–no, you can be sure your son's name will be remembered for a long, long time. 

"Jesse!" Dustin squeaks, and immediately blurts out a couple sorries when Max and Lucas hush him, just to continue at a much quieter volume. "Jesse, you're our new party member!" As he says it, he lifts him up higher to hug him to his chest, only for the hand he has on his little head to start slipping right in view of Eddie's watchful eyes. 

"Care-ful!" There's a twinge in Eddie's voice, an uptick as he holds his hands out in preparation to cushion his son's fall, and Dustin immediately readjusts out of panic. "Cradle his head, dingus!" 

Your boyfriend sighs, but it's a mock sigh, one that's as dramatic as you're used to when he's not really mad and just wants to make a point. "You better be more careful than that if you're gonna be his uncle." 

"Uncle?" Dustin repeats incredulously, looking up at his DM like he can't believe what just came out of Eddie's mouth. 

"Yeah, duh. He needs one–you see a brother of mine anywhere?" He says it like a know-it-all, but it's impossible for him to wipe the grin off his face when he sees the joy on Dustin's. 

"Uncle Dustin….hell yeah!" You're sure he'd be pumping his fist in victory if he wasn't holding the baby, but Max and Lucas high-five over his head when Eddie asks the same of both of them, the three of them so excited it's like they've won the lottery. 

For the next little while, the four of them chatter quietly as the kids keep passing Jesse around to hold him. You let your mind wander a little as they do so, eyes peering around the room until they land on a little box radio sat on the side table that you had ignored for a while now. You stretch to reach it, thankfully without Eddie noticing, else he would have rushed to get it for you–and when you pick it up off the counter, you flick it on and switch through the stations mindlessly, until you land on a channel playing a string of ABBA for the afternoon. The slow, rhythmic tones of Hasta Manana fill the semi-quiet air, and you set it back down in reach with the volume on low to listen and let the tunes soothe you. So much, in fact, that when your eyes close for a moment they don't open until you're jerking yourself awake with a gasp. 

"Jesse?! Where's my baby?" Still muddled and eyes bleary from sleep that you can tell was much longer than intended, your words tumble out on top of each other as you rub at your eyes and feel the panic bubbling up in the back of your throat. Whatever you had been dreaming about to leave you this unsettled, you hope you don't remember it. 

"Here, he's right here, baby. It's okay. Look," Thank god Eddie's on the ball, all too used to your night terrors and anxiety that he ushers Max, who has Jesse in her arms, right up to your bedside to show his sleeping face to you. You lean over so far you nearly slide out of the bed, but when she holds him out for you to touch his warm, breathing mouth, you feel the fright ebb away and you can relax back into the bed with a "sorry" murmured rather meekly. 

"No, it's…don't worry about it, baby. Don't worry, okay? You're safe. Jesse's safe." Eddie slides past Max to lean over you, one hand on your cheek and the other on the back of your head to pull you close to his chest. Your fingers graze his wrist, your eyes squeezed shut to stop the tears you can feel coming on, and still he hushes reassurances into your hair like the kids aren't even there. "Everyone's safe. We're not in that place anymore." 

As if on cue, as you're running those words through your mind–we're not there anymore, we're safe, our son is safe, our friends are safe-a shrill cry erupts from Jesse's tiny lungs, nearly startling Max in her arms and breaking you out of that fearful dream-state and back into reality. A shocked "whoa!" escapes her, and you find it within you to let a relieved chuckle loose and let Eddie wipe the tears that had managed to spill out, before she holds your baby out to you and gently slides him back into your arms to be soothed. 

"Are you hungry, my love?" He cries even harder in reply, and you don't even have to share a look with Eddie for him to get you the privacy you need. 

"Alright, outta here. Scram!" He puts on a joking voice to swat them out of the room, but not before all three of them wave and congratulate you one last time, before you can hear them discussing what to eat themselves as their footsteps patter further and further away. As soon as they're gone, you pull your gown apart with Eddie's help and hold your son to your chest, heaving a sigh of relief as he manages to latch and start sucking with ease. He's already doing so well, even the nurses have commented on how agreeable of a baby he is–and if he's an easy one to raise, it'll be quite the load off your shoulders when you've got so much else going on. You shift a little uncomfortably, thinking back on your outburst…it doesn't feel as comfortable here as it did. You'd rather be home, in a place you know is safe, and now you're just looking forward to when you can leave once the doctor gives you the go-ahead. 

"Are you hungry, my love?" Eddie kisses your temple as you relax back into the bed, one hand on your boob and the other cradling your baby, and you nod with half-lidded eyes and not an ounce of energy to say it out loud. Not when you don't have to, since your stomach grumbles at that very moment and draws a laugh out of your boyfriend. 

But again, just as things are settling down and he's moving to put on his jacket to go scope something out for you, the question of what brand of greasy fast food you want barely off of his lips–that's when more footsteps thunder closer and closer to your room, and that same exasperated nurse shouts at you three hooligans to quit running in the ward. 

Just as the kids did before, the curtain is thrown open with haste–and there stand Steve, Robin, and Nancy, who arrive in more of a frenzy than when you had seen them sprinting away from horrors beyond mortal comprehension. 

"Damn it! We missed–oh,"

"You really wanted to watch her squeeze a human out of her?" Steve's disappointment is slashed almost immediately by Robin's wit, the comment followed soon by a "sorry" and a sheepish smile, as she's probably realized how real your pain actually is from the look on your face. But while it somehow doesn't quite register for either of your female friends, Steve's face burns bright red and he averts his eyes in a second. 

"Oi! Bozos! Turn around!" Luckily, despite you being far too tired to consider the fact that your chest is out and on display, your boyfriend is on it immediately and is already turning Steve around by the shoulders while Nancy and Robin quickly follow suit. They aren't forced to wait there for long, though, because before you know it Jesse's as full as his little tummy can take and you have the chance to readjust, Eddie giving them the okay when you're properly decent–and when the three of your closest friends can lean over your bed and take a look at the little tyke. 

"Oh my God, he's the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life….Nancy, please tell me you're feeling what I'm feeling." Robin's talking a million miles an hour, eyes totally filled with stars as she looks down at the baby with her hands hovering in front of her mouth. Nancy is quick to fall into the baby talk, the confidence she naturally has around babies, but Steve….he's just standing there. Awestruck. So it's only reasonable that Nancy gets handed the baby first, her touch delicate and soft as she cuddles him up in the crook of her arm. The crowd of them around you are so mesmerized, you don't even notice the soft-spoken nurse tapping on Eddie's shoulder and drawing his attention away. 

"Mr. Munson? You've got a call. Relative of yours." Fortunate that you're presently surrounded by trusted friends, he doesn't shoot you that strained look like he's wondering whether he can leave you alone. Instead, he kisses the top of your head before shuffling off. "Be right back, baby."

Once he's departed, Robin gets her turn with holding Jesse, sticking close to Steve with the worry that she might drop the poor kid, and Nancy takes the chance to cozy up to you. "So how was labour? You feeling okay?" She perches on the edge of your bed, and you nod.

"I'm alright…sore." 

"I bet." With one hand on your shoulder, she rubs it affectionately with a smile, before using the other to produce an envelope from her jacket pocket. 

"Here. This is for you." Your brow quirks up, your fingers tentative as she passes it into your hands. Carefully, you unseal the flap before lifting it up–and when you do, you're ten times as quick to shut it and press it down into your lap like it's full of top-secret information. "Nancy-!" 

A curious peek back at it to confirm what you just saw, and it is indeed: it's stuffed full with the thickest wad of cash you've ever seen, and all you saw at a glance was rows and rows of hundreds. "We pooled it together."

"Nancy, I don't think I've seen this much money in my life. I-I can't-" With a shake of your head, you try sticking it back into her hand with another on her wrist to steady it. 

"You can." She gently pushes it back into your hands. "Think of it as a baby gift. Or a wedding gift." Her eyes and yours slide down to the ring on your left hand, the simple little band that you didn't think anyone would notice. "You can use it to get your own place, or for Jesse, or for a wedding–whatever you want. It's yours. Besides, you still have Eddie's medical bills, too. We're at fault for that no matter which way you slice it. So think of it as a reward for being a hero." 

When Nancy puts her mind to something, she can't be deterred. She's determined to give this money to you, to the point that she won't even touch it, and now here you sit with a magical answer to almost all the problems you had fretted about prior to Jesse's conception, during, and after. Like it's just fallen out of the sky…or more like up from the Upside Down. 

"Nancy, I…thank you. You know that he would do that no matter what, though, right? He loves you guys." 

"And we love you." Robin chimes in. "You're our friends–and you had a baby! Sorry, I still can't believe he's this cute…" She tickles his little cheek, now settled comfortably in Steve's big arms, and he looks so comically small in comparison to your rather fit friend. 

Nancy leans in to whisper "You can thank Steve for most of it, anyways." with a wink, knowing you'll get a kick out of that little victory considering Steve is always the one admonishing you both for not spending your money wisely. In some ways, Steve's been the biggest worrier over your unborn child until this very moment–constantly on the watch for any changes, looking out for danger, you've even caught him poking through the cupboards in Eddie's kitchen to make sure you've got enough food and the right foods to keep you healthy. Sticking to a diet of tinned spaghetti and boxed macaroni and cheese simply did not fly when you were pregnant, and you're sure it won't now that Jesse's here if Steve has anything to say about it. Which he will, you're sure. He can't hide that adoring look in his eyes as he cuddles your baby like he's his own. 

Just as you're setting the envelope aside, though, placing it gently on the table beside you, Eddie reappears as the curtain draws back and lets it flutter closed behind him while he makes his way back to your side, with something clasped tightly in his hand. You greet him with a "hey baby" but he looks distant, like his mind is preoccupied with something else, even as he hikes himself up and settles on the bed next to you with an arm creeping around your shoulders, the other reaching into your lap to push a jello cup into your palm. 

"Who was it?" You ask, leaning into the tender strokes he makes up and down your arm with his fingertips, and peel the lid off the cup to start sucking the bright red dessert out of it. It's not much, but it's enough to tide you over and doesn't take very long to drain until it's empty. 

"My dad."

"Your dad?" You repeat incredulously, cheek still half-full of jello, as Eddie straightens up in his seat before leaning back in for a kiss. In the whole time you've been dating and even through the whole time you've known him, you've never been face to face with his father. You've never even spoken to him, and conversely, Eddie has rarely said a word about him–even less so a positive one. "What did he say?" 

"He.." Eddie spaces out for a second, before scoffing. Very unlike him. It betrays how shaken up he clearly is, especially with his hand trembling a little as he takes the plastic cup from your hand and turns to toss it into the garbage in the corner of the room. "He asked me to bring the baby to see him. In jail." 

"Oh…" What can you possibly say to that? It feels like the air's been sucked out of the room, your other three friends falling completely silent in the background of this conversation, feeling like they shouldn't be witness to this rather private affair. "What did you..? Do you want to?" 

Eddie shakes his head almost immediately, and if he wasn't in a hospital right now, you know he would spit–you can tell he's itching to by the clench of his jaw. "No. No way in hell he's ever gonna see my son. Not gonna let him fuck up Jesse the way he fucked me up." 

A pang hits your heart just so, and while Eddie's hand on your arm is comforting, the urge to avert your eyes to the floor is so strong to the point of almost being unbearable. While you'd never speak ill of your love, his upbringing isn't the sort of thing you want to pass on to your son, and even though Eddie shares that sentiment wholeheartedly you still feel some sense of guilt at expressing it. You love Eddie, that's undeniable–but you know that he worries about it himself, worries that one day he'll treat Jesse like he was treated and turn into that person he swore he would never be. You don't believe he would, you can't believe Eddie ever would, but the possibility is something you know he's considered when he wondered why you didn't want to have kids at first. His kids or any kids, was that the difference? Had you once believed, even for a moment, that Eddie might turn around and hurt you while you had your guard down, only to be locked into a life with him as well? If those thoughts are the ones that plagued him, at least before your son arrived and changed both your respective worlds, you wish that you could go back and say yes when he asked if you wanted to have a baby–because you know how happy you are now, and you know that there's nothing that would've given you pause if you had known that before. Especially seeing Eddie hold your son, cradle him, cry over him….he's going to be the best father. You know he will. 

"Anyways, speaking of which–Steve?" Harrington raises his head to attention with a "yeah?" his gaze finally broken off the baby in his arms. It's obvious that you're gonna have some strong contenders for babysitting dibs with Steve in the mix alongside everyone else, and the idea of it draws you out of that mess of thoughts and regrets that you've lost yourself in momentarily. 

"Godfather. Wanna be his?" He cocks his head, his smile no less than glowing when Steve sputters and stumbles over his answer, almost too shocked by the delivery to do so. 

"I–yeah, yeah, I will. I want to. Yes." His eyes dart down to Jesse, brow softening and his lower lip tugged between his teeth like he does when he doesn't know what to say. 

"Wanna be godmother, Robin?" 

"Yes!" She, on the other hand, is way faster on the uptake and claps her hands together excitedly, peering over Steve's shoulder to coo at her godson as if he can already understand her. Maybe he does, because he reacts with a chorus of little gurgles that she just swoons over like she's falling in love all over again. 

"Cool. Godfather Steve, Godmother Robin, Aunt Nancy."

"Aunt?" Nancy slides off the bed to make room and shifts her weight from one foot to the other, tone laced with curiosity and maybe a twinge of shock. 

"Or auntie, or whatever. Unless you don't want to." He waves a hand around as he speaks, and he seems to shrink a little bit when a smile flickers across Nancy's face. He gets nervous around her like he doesn't with other people. You know he was anxious about asking her that, so he did it in his own way–a very Eddie-like way, in which he basically thrust the title upon her and left her room to reject if she wanted to. 

"I'd be honoured." Her gaze flutters back to you, and you get to share a smile so comforting that it makes the feeling last. So much talk of death and fighting and monsters has sullied your view on the world, you've come to realize. You've been seeing your life through the lens of constant fear, anxious about what's to come next and bracing for the worst possible outcome every single time for far too long. Now, you know for sure that Eddie was right, because having your son in your life now….well, you couldn't be happier that you've finally got him, regardless of what may lie around the corner. 

"So, does being godmother mean I get dibs on babysitting?" Robin giggles as she plays with his little hands, inadvertently breaking you out of your reverie, and one look at your boyfriend betrays just how fondly he feels about this whole view laid out in front of him. 

"Well…it really means that, if we die, or something happens to us, you two will take care of him. And, y'know, you gotta send him birthday cards every so often." His hand raises to play with the ends of your hair with an absent mind, Jesse's newly-appointed godparents scoffing at even the mere mention of either of you dying. Joke as much as you all like, you know how easily it could happen, but you don't let it sober the happy occasion. The thing that does, however, is Eddie's eyes roaming and his fingers prodding at the thick envelope that had been lying on the stand by your bed. One press on the inner fold, and he can confirm that it's filled with exactly what he thought it might be. 

"Well, if I knew you guys would pay me off to have a baby, I would've knocked her up sooner." He plucks it off the counter and waves it around, the eldest Wheeler going a little rosy in the cheeks at her gift having been found out. "Nancy, I really appreciate it, but this-" 

"But nothing, butthead. It's for Jesse." Steve pipes up, the baby nestled safely in his arms until he moves to pass him back to you, so carefully you would think it's his own baby he's holding. Robin's a little too excited to hold him again for now, she's always so antsy about dropping the little guy, but she'll get her turn to spoil him soon. And lucky for you and all your friends, Eddie shuts his mouth at that, save for the quietest "thanks, you guys" that slips past his lips just loud enough for them to hear. 

"Don't mention it. We'll give you a little alone time, now–and we'll go get you some real food. C'mon." Steve ushers the girls out as they say their goodbyes while he holds the curtain open, and smiles back at you three over his shoulder before he follows suit and leaves you in the relative quiet of your room. 

"You're just collecting family left and right, aren't you?" You murmur in the foreground of their footsteps wandering away, and he chuckles as he leans into you as if he can't get close enough. 

"I want Jesse to have people around that love him. I don't want him to feel lonely, or…like there's nobody that will help him." Eddie's talking to you but he's looking down at your son, his rings contrasting velvet-like skin as he thumbs the little curve of your newborn's brow. Jesse gurgles in reply, his tiny mouth yawning open for you to spot that little pink tongue as it sticks out. "I want him to make friends, and fall in love, and just…be happy. I don't want him going through what you and I did." 

"I don't think anybody could go through what we did." You answer, and Eddie rests his head against yours, temples touching and his curls tickling your cheek as he swallows and sighs. His body heat is a comfort in itself, his arm around you loose enough to be comfortable but firm enough that you won't forget he's still there. 

"He should never have to fight to survive. I would rather die than have him-"

"Don't you dare say that, Edward." His lips split into a knowing smile, even though you shoot him a scowl just inches from his own face. Uttering his full name is a warning, a stop sign all by itself. "I mean it. Jesse needs his father." 

"I know. I know, baby."

"I need you, too." His kiss blinds you to that worry, warmth flooding through your face and down your throat as if he's pouring his reassurance past your lips like it's a cup of sweet wine. It'll still burn once it goes down, and it'll never go away–but the primal fear is past you, at least for now. 

"I won't scare you like that again. I swear." Eddie seals that promise with a kiss to your temple to follow it, and lowers his hand to rub the one you have cradling your son, paying special attention to the little band you have on your finger. 

"Baby?" He hums in reply.

"I think…I need to sleep. I'm tired."

"I bet you are." He whispers, suddenly very aware of your half-lidded eyes as he carefully takes the baby from your arms. "Lay back, I'll wake you when the others come back. You've been through a lot today." 

"Don't leave me.."

"I won't. Me and Jesse will be right here." He lifts him up to look at you, before turning him to cradle his tiny body in the crook of his arm. "Waiting for mommy to wake up." 

Only when Eddie says it does it feel real, when you actually understand the fact that you're officially a mom. It's sobering, scary, exciting all at once, it's something that could both make you cry and bring laughter to your lips–and at the moment, it's the latter, because with a more concerning gurgle and a soft "blah!", Jesse's turned his stomach out all over the breast of Eddie's shirt, followed by a sharp cry and a giggle erupting from your lips. 

"....Aaaand spitting up all over daddy. Heh. That's my little demon." 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie's angelface #wayne munson #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #7k

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for a Fic...

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1. I’m in the mood for Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian, particularly any fic where Wei Wuxian’s parents live a bit longer so that he isn’t on his own until his teens? I’d really love a fic where his understanding of the sects and his own self-worth is informed by his parents. Bonus if his introduction to the sects happens at the Cloud Recesses lectures! Thanks!! @posteggpunk

Wújī by FairyTaleDreams (M, 43k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WCZ & CS Lives, Rouge cultivator WWX)

🧡Resplendence by FrozenMarVel (E, 159k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, CS Lives, Different first meeting, Fluff, Crossdressing, Love at first sight, Fix-it of sorts)

Dear Fellow Traveler by Netrixie (Not Rated, 13k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alive WWX parents, immortal BSSR and family being rogue cultivators together, meet cute, travel partners falling in love, Flirting, Yearning, Sharing a Bed, Fluff, Sweet, good parental figures only, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together) absolutely adorable,tho this *is* wangxian centric

~*~

2. Hello! For the next mood post, does anyone have any animal cafe/animal shelter recs?? Or any other fics with cute wangxian interactions with animals. Pls and ty!!

in the arms of the angel by ScarlettStorm (E,37k, WangXian, Modern AU with Magic, Fox WWX, animal rescuer LWJ, Minor pining, major shenanigans, Comedy, Smut, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Adhd WWX, Blowjobs, Frottage, switch rights, Scent Kink, mildly telepathic sex, courtship via kittens)

Bun Fu Fighting by Silvarbelle (G, 4k ,Modern AU, Racism, racist microaggressions, petting farm (in america), animal education, cultural education (attempt), Two Dads, Established Relationship, Slice of Life, Mojo’s Post)

2:15 PM by cherishthespark (T, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, Bunny Cafe AU, This counts as a coffee shop au right, Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Pining, pre-dating)

风调雨顺 | a good time (to grow a family) by frostferox (T, 3k, WangXian, Modern AU, Meet-Cute, Domesticity, Pets)

Found: Extremely Friendly Fox by wanderingflame (T, 22k, ZhuiLing, WangXian, mild animal injury, Curses, Reunions, Fox WWX, Foxxian being a lovable terror, POV Alternating, Modern With Cultivation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)

~*~

3. What is that one fic that lives rent-free in your mind?

🧡Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 370k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

or

🧡close your eyes, feel my heartbeat by ThatDesiGirl (T, 11k, WangXian, blind!WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rewriting Canon, not a fix-it but a what-if, Golden Core Transfer)

(I enjoyed both of these a lot ~ Mod C)

💖From the Future for the Past by friedchickenlord (G, 27k, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, fluff & humor, happy ending, denial, pining, bullying ur younger self is in fact ok) I feel like I’m always reccing this but I just love it too much haha ~Mod L

Taking Responsibility by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 6k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Getting Together, Trope Subversion/Inversion, Pretend mpreg, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Fluff and Crack)

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie (E, 76k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pianist, Getting Together, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Hospitals, Overdosing, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Warnings In Author's Note) the one fic that lives rent free in my mind, it's a modern AU that taken on depression and suicide themes but in such a thoughtful and cleansing way

The envy of the world by vulnerable_bead (E, 48k, wangxian, post-canon, night-hunt; WWX and LWJ as teachers to LSZ, LJY, and Lan junior OCs; poetic fairytale prose; a casefic of unfurling complexity with an intelligent, subtle, and powerful antagonist; mysterious uncharted musical magic; a climactic confrontation that deserves to be animated. And then there’s the famous Windowsill Papapa Scene.)

Different Paths to the Same Route by JustAWanderingBabbit (T, 184k, 3Zun, Canon Divergence, What-if, Magical genetic testing, Family Feels)

the field meets the wood by astronicht (T, 7k, WangXian, Post-Canon, BAMF WWX, slight whump, Ritualistic, Self Harm, Canon Era, Tang Dynasty style, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, salt, economics, [Podfic] the field meets the wood by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona), [podfic] the field meets the wood by jellyfishfire, mojo's bookmark)

well-met by warlight by wukuiyuxin (Not Rated, 2k, WIP, WangXian, Canon typical death, Blood CW, old english style poetry, Poetry, Epic Poetry)

Sect Leader Wen Qionglin by maya_brainstormed (mayachain) (T, 2k, LSZ & WN, Time Travel Fix-It, Crack Treated Seriously, POV Multiple, BAMF WN, Protective Siblings, Cousins, No Sunshot Campaign, Capital Punishment, Rebuilding) wen ning lives rent free in my head along with this fic

~*~

4. Hello, for the next In The Mood, could I get A) Some WWX spending his 13 years dead in Ghost City with Hua Cheng, then either moving into MXY as normal, or keeps being a ghost because he leveled up during that time? B) Since I didn't get lucky with this request last time - crossovers between characters from the novel/donghua/live action, with biggest thirst for poor live action people meeting the donghua YLLZ, but at this point i'd take anything :D

4B)

We always get what we deserve!(Doesn't matter even if you think you don't deserve it. Fate has mysterious ways!) by Ajareenlovesbtsandshinee (Not rated, 16k, WIP, WangXian, Post-Canon Fix-It, CQL Wei Ying and MDZS Wei Ying Exchange places, CQL Lan Zhan and Wei Ying also deserve to be together, Happy Ending)

The Young, the Horny, the Jaded and the Jade: Partners in Time by Admiranda (M, 35k, WangXian, WIP, Established couple, Crossover, road trip with your older selves, teasing your younger selves about their obvious crushes, yin iron does yin iron things, mdzs/cql crossover, adult wangxian, Teenage Wangxian)

Key Differences by pupeez4eva (T, 5k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Humor, Dimension Travel, Crossover, Drama!WWX meets Novel!WWX, Public Confessions, WWX plays matchmaker for himself)

~*~

5. Hello! Do you happen to have any fics that have a’yuan as wangxian’s biological kid??

Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people resulting to OOC, no Pining, Established Relationship, wangxian are married and have a son, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian's Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canonical Character Death -WWX, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts)

Time Charm Series by Jenrose (E, 141k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel Fix-It, Post-Canon, BAMF WWX & LWJ, Everyone Lives/Nobody dies, Pregnancy, Queer platonic poly WangXianQing, Slice of Life)

in flagrante delicto by synonemous (E, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, Serial killer WangXian, A/B/O, Mpreg, Smut, Wangxian's Canon Kinks, Modern Yi City arc, Angst with a happy ending)

an ongoing Twitter threadfic that’s updating daily (or close to it), trans LWJ, WWX got kicked out as a teen & disappeared before LWJ found out he was pregnant, now WWX is a pop star

~*~

6. for the next in the mood for… could i get the best of canon divergence? or just your favorites? thank you for all your hard work at this blog! 💖💖💖

If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, YL WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn)

Everyanything by deliciousblizzardshark, lingeringdust (E, 46k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Franken-canon, Gender Identity, Gender Dysphoria, Trans WWX, Protective LWJ, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canon-Typical Misogyny, Fluff and Angst, Vaginal Sex, Canon-Typical Major Character Death, QS brings back WWX)

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, Time travel, Hurt/comfort, Canon typical violence, Getting together, Everybody loves/Nobody dies)

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Hurt/comfort, Canon Divergence, Angst with a happy ending)

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal, Polski Translation Pod każdym innym imieniem by tehanu, [PODFIC] By Any Other Name by sakizar)

❤️The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, wangxian, possession, cohabitation, Mojo’s bookmark)

everyone has a braincell of their very own series by MarbleGlove (T, 22k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Self-Indulgent, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

happy not knowing by plonk (Not rated, 16k, WangXian, Canon Era, Canon Divergence, Established Relationship)

With Surgical Precision by metisket (T, 20k, WQ & WN, WQ & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel, Families of Choice)

~*~

7. Ello~ I am back with another request for "in the mood for" (love the amazing work all the mods do with this blog will never be able to say that enough) and this time it's... Meet cute coffee shop au's please! @yukihyo-no-yosei

Who Cares? by fangbook (G, 854, WangXian, MianQing, Modern AU, Coffee Shops & Cafés, barista!wwx, musicteacher!lwj, Oblivious WWX, Oblivious LWJ, Mutual Pining)

Cake it Easy by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot) (G, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Meet-Cute, First Meetings, Bakery, Love at First Sight, Fluff) this is a bakery meet cute, but it has the cafe vibes so I think it'll work!

Coffee Beans & Whipped Cream by w_wxsparkles (G, 7k, WangXian, Modern AU, Coffee Shops & Cafés, Waiter WWX, Artist LWJ, Strangers to Lovers, No Angst, Fluff, Flirting, Falling In Love, First Dates, Indulgent Fic, LWJ Has Feelings, LWJ is Whipped, WWX is Whipped)

Coming right up by Onomatopoetikon (G, 1k, WangXian, Modern AU, Coffee Shops & Cafés, College/University, POV LWJ, Barista WWX, WWX is a Tease, Internally Screaming LWJ, Flirting, Meet-Cute)

Americano by impatiensatin (T, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Shameless WWX, Rich Boy JC, Wingman NJS, Cinnamon Roll WN,Internally Screaming LWJ, BussinessMan!LWJ, CafeOwner!YZY, Baby OZ, Barista! WWX, Barista! NHS, Barista! WN, barista!au, Rich Young Master LWJ, Playing with a Bet, Lanling is a Project, Library Pavillion is an commercial Office)

~*~

8. Hello!!! For the iitmf could you rec some completed fics of A) Polyamorous NingWangXian and B) fics where Wei WuXian grows up/joins the Nie Sect? Thanks for all your hard work!

8A)

i didn't think it could be true (let alone that it would be you) by ryneisaterriblefan (T, 11k, NingWangXian, Mutual Pining, Cuddling & Snuggling, Texting, Drunk LWJ, drunk WN, Pining, Cafes)

let me feel these highs and lows by thrallax (M, 6k, NingWangXian, Threesome, gets a little bit suggestive there in the middle but nothing explicit, technically, Hanahaki Disease, Pining, Fluff, spoilers through ch. 108 of mdzs!, Hair Washing)

throughline by lunatea (M, 81k, NingWangXian, Crime Scene Investigation, Modern AU, Polyamory, Pining, Developing Relationship, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Hurt/Comfort, Case Fic, Murder Mystery, Detectives, Canon-Typical Violence, Corruption)

Gee, Wen Ning! How Come Your Sister Lets You Have TWO Boyfriends? by thesweetpianowritingdownmylife (E, 129k, NingWangXian, Canon Divergence, Not A Fix-It, Mutual Pining, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Timelapse days, Post-Resurrection days, Injury Recovery, Grief/Mourning, Drunkenness, Dubcon Kissing, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Threesome, Trans Male Character, Anal Sex, Strap-Ons, Oral Sex)

Syzygy by Mortissimo (E, 50k, NingWangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Canon-Typical Disrespect for Linear Time, Canon-Atypical Lubricant Use)

In This Life by INSPIRETOWRITE (G, 5k, NingWangXian,Fluff and Angst, Cinnamon roll WN, Falling In Love, Cute, Sad Ending, Anxiety, Oblivious, Mutual Pining,5+1 Things, Consent, Developing Relationship, Polyamory)

Three Men and a Radish by nirejseki (G, 3k, NingWangXian, Canon Divergence, Oblivious WWX, Mutual Pining but not for long)

what part of party don't you understand by wildwestwind (T, 1k, NingWangXian, Modern AU, Christmas Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Cultural Differences, Trans Female WWX, Kid Fic)

8B)

The Light That Fails to Dim by glowingreverie (T, 310k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mild Gore)

A Good Placement by madwriter223 (T, 12k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, What if YZY had been the one to find WWX AU, Emotional Manipulation, Lies, Street Child WWX, Fluff and Angst, OOC but YZY is doing that on purpose, Found Family, itty bitty Wangxian, Bittersweet Ending, Mojo's post)

❤️shades of grey by cl410 (M, 58k, nielan, wangxian, Hurt/Comfort, Accidental Sibling Acquisition, Single Dad NMJ, NHS & WWX Friendship, Fluff, Humor, Happy Ending, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Protective NMJ, Some angst, Blood and Injury, Kidnapping, Protective Siblings, Found Family, Mojo's post)

History, Fate & the thread of a goose by Blooddust (Lockel) (T, 77k, wangxian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Alternating, Fix-It of Sorts, Family Bonding, Brotherly Bonding)

Light on the Door by nirejseki (no rating, 15k, WIP, NMJ & WWX, Canon Divergence, Niè Sect WWX, Nie sect backstory, Found Family, Asexual Character, Pansexual Character, Qinghe Nie worldbuilding)

Another chance by lightsfillthesky (G, 41k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time travel Fix-It, Pre-Relationship, Light Angst)

Heart of the Beast by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 46k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective NMJ & NHS, Soft NMJ, Pining LWJ)

~*~

9. Hi! I’m in the mood for some fics that address Wei Wuxian’s social status as the son of a servant, particularly any that might include LWJs POV on how people treat WWX because of this

Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing slightly darker Gusu Lan, as in they are dragons and dragons get rather fiercely protective of things they consider precious, Dragon Lans, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting) this one's lxc, but there are parts in there which address wwx's place in the Jiang sect that I really enjoyed.

~*~

10. A) a fic where jin ling 'accidentally' kills wei wuxian when he stabbed him at jinlintai

B) or a fic where one of the juniors or all of the juniors got cursed that makes them see illusions and they saw wwx death or they see themselves(juniors) killing wei wuxian

C) a fic where lan sizhui being too 'lan', like being stuffy and more on rules. wwx gets sad

-no modern pls, originally gave this ideas as a prompt in my acc bc i don't know how to find

D) a fic where someone talks bad about wwx as in down bad in a conference or something and nie huaisang/lan wangji/jiang cheng/the juniors and shit goes down?

-bonus if the others save wwx too like lan xichen/lan qiren/wen ning/ jin zixuan (if he not dead) @ner-u

10D)

拨云见日 by RoseThorne (G, 1k, WangXian,. Post-Canon, Justice, Anger, Sect Leader Yáo Bashing, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, Restitution, Self-Indulgent, POV Third Person, POV WWX)

~*~

11. HI! Thanks for your constant hard work :D I'm really in the mood for a fic where wwx or lwj gets cursed to read minds. I'd specifically really like for wwx to get the ability so he can finally know what lz is thinking about him; something like 'yeah I know how you like it' by phnelt. Please canon only setting. Thank you in advance! I'll take all the mind reading fics you can recommend!

hope dangling by a string by KouriArashi (M, 70k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Psychic Bond, Telepathy, Communication, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, jiang family feels, Lan Family Feels)(They don't get cursed in this but they do end up accidentally permanently linking minds and getting together because of it ~ Mod C)

definitely check out the cherry magic au tag (an au in which if you're a virgin at 30 yo you start hearing the thoughts of everyone that touches you) (quick search for cherry magic in the wangxian tag ~ Mod C)

Too Beautiful For Words, Will My Thoughts Suffice? by Watermelonsmellinfellon (T, 8k, WangXian, CQL/Donghua/Novel Mix, Canon Divergence, Mild Language, Fluff, Crushes, Gay Disaster WWX, Flirting, Telepathy, LWJ POV, Implied Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Drama, Golden Core Reveal)

Say so by yrwz (G, 10k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mind reading, Happy Ending)

i'm the one for your fire by occultings (microcomets) (E, 42k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mind Reading, Enemies to Lovers it's only enemies to lovers in wei ying's one braincell, Misunderstandings, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Whump, brief illness/injury, Pining, light bdsm in the first chap, Cherry Magic AU)

~*~

12. In the mood for A) some Cloud Recesses fics where Wangxian get together early! Also interested in B) fics where members of the Lan sect, particularly LQR or LXC are fond of/supportive of WWX

12A)

O, What Learning Is! by Comfect (M, 60k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, No Fall of Lotus Pier, No Golden Core Transfer, Fix-It, Butterfly Effect, Fluff, Cultivation Theory, Cultivation Sect Politics, Unreliable Narrator WWX, Good Student WWX, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Good Uncle LQR)

joined delight by RoseThorne (M, 1k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, fast burn, MXTX Reverse Trope Fest, Making Out, Marking, Frottage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Marathon Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Love at First Sight, Swords, Horniness, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc)

Dual Cultivating with You by narikanyan (E, 37k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Falling In Love, Mutual Pining, Sneaking Around, Horny Teenagers, Secret Relationship, Dual Cultivation, Smut, Anal Sex, Angst, Canonical Character Death, i’m sorry Jiangs, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, JYL lives because I said so, Mpreg, Secret Marriage, Secret Baby A-Yuan!, fake death, Reuniting, Happy Ending)

Just Say Yes series by edenwolfie (M, 338k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Matchmaking, Pining, Getting Together, POV Alternating, Fluff, First Kiss, Declarations Of Love, Humor, Good Uncle LQR, POV Outsider, Engagement, Developing Relationship, Family Feels, Fix-It, Drunken Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Possessive Behavior, Panic Attacks, Everybody Lives, Established Relationship, Weddings, Kid Fic, Wedding Night)

12B)

🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 40k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU)

~*~

13. hii <3 do you guys have any good yuan and wei wuxian fics?

kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Angst, Fluff) if you want big a-yuan as well as little a-yuan

say it’s here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn (E, 68k, wangxian, modern, family feels, angst w/ happy ending, adoption, foster care, hurt/comfort)

a baby rabbit is called a kitten and other fun facts by aurora_chiroptera (G, 11k, WangXian, WWX & LSZ, Modern AU, Social media/YouTube AU, Mutual Pining, NB NHS, JZX is a trans lesbian and uses she/her pronouns, Child LSZ, Long-Distance Relationship, (kinda?), Fluff, Soft WangXian, Good Parent WWX, Single Parent WWX, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, set in the US)

归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by dragongirlG (M, 7k, LSZ & WWX, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Aged WWX, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Diaspora Feels (displacement), Dramatic Irony, Secret Identity, Pining, Brief Reference To Suicidal Thoughts, Hopeful Ending, [Podfic] 归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by Koontyme)

Found: Extremely Friendly Fox by wanderingflame (T, 22k, ZhuiLing, WangXian, mild animal injury, Curses, Reunions, Fox WWX, Foxxian being a lovable terror, POV Alternating, Modern With Cultivation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)

~*~

14. Hello!!! I’m in the mood for LWJ POV fics where LWJ learns about/thinks about/processes WWX’s life from before he was taken in by the Jiang sect

One More Tune from the Devil by Sunny73 (T, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Angst, Character Study, Supernatural Elements, Time Trave, lAU in canon setting, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Introspection, Kissing and then not talking about it, Best Friends, art!, Homeless tiny WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Trauma)

~*~

15. Hello, lovely people! I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of any Wangji whump fics? I'm in the mood for anything where Lan Wangji is sick or injured, and, optionally, is taken care of by Wei Wuxian or Lan Xichen. TIA xx

The Vermillion Ribbon by Unforth (E, 233k, wangxian, Wen WWX, politics, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, hurt WWX, hurt LWJ, whump, serious injury, off-screen torture, hurt/comfort, angst, marriage of convenience, abusive father figures, panic attacks, trauma, ptsd, dissociation, pining, suicidal thoughts, miscommunication, touch starved LWJ, light dom/sub, feels, family feels, brotherly feels, LQR is a dick, abusive lan sect, emotional hurt/comfort, healing, recovery, Happy Ending, Mojo's post)

The Jade Curse by Tabi_essentially (M, 51k, WIP, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Angst, Curse Breaking, Cursed LWJ, Time Travel, Post-Canon, not an au, Other Lives, Soulmates, POV Alternating, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Paperman!LWJ!)

moonlight caught in mutton fat by Raitelzen (T, 45k, WangXian, Case Fic, Curses, Curse Breaking, Transformation, mild body horror, Hurt LWJ, Artistic license of cultivation, Artistic liberties taken with ghosts, Ghosts) for wwx&lqr centric while the twin jades are cursed

shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi ( E, 24k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Night hunts, Curses, Intimacy, Light Angst with a Happy Ending)

A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (E, 21k, WangXian, Semi-Public Sex, Public Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Anal Sex, Sex in the cold springs, Mutual Pining, Grief/Mourning, Injury Recovery, Ethical Dilemmas, Risk Aware Consensual Patience, Edgeplay sort of, Happy Ending)

Light by redkosmos (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, Blind LWJ, Friends to Lovers, Make that BEST friends to lovers, Hospitalization, Car Accidents, Healing, LWJ POV, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, LWJ loses his vision)

Found Feral by AceBij (T, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, Feral LWJ, Selectively Mute LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Anal Sex, Knotting, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff)

with such a suffering, such a deadly life by cqlorphan (T, 7k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Curses, Curse Breaking, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Affection, Touch-Starved LWJ, Love Confessions, LWJ Whump, Cuddling & Snuggling)

The Last Concubine by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 13k, WangXian, Royalty AU, Emperor WWX, Concubine LWJ, LWJ Whump, Forced Marriage, Starvation, Non-physical spousal abuse, Fluff and Angst, Doing the Wrong Thing for the Right Reasons, Happy Ending, WWX Takes Care of LWJ)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

Thank you for all of the suggestions~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

[kingofthewebxxx]

Hello all, hope you are well!

So I have made a new OC who is still very much a WIP so please be patient, will post info here. Let me know if you are interested in interacting with him by liking this post, constructive feedback would also be appreciated. OC would be on a side blog and will be lower activity than this one. If I get at least five likes then I shall make the sideblog

Take care everyone

Name: Ethan Brooks

Nicknames: Shadow Viper (Assassin name)

Birthplace: London, England

Birthday: 23rd February

Age: 45

Occupation: Government agent

Species: Human

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Pronouns: He/ him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Martial Status: Open

Abilities: Excellent memory, can resist extreme pain, 20/20 vision, a black belt in taekwondo and expert in hand-to-hand combat (CQC), armsman, intelligent, can use his own emotions to his advantage (others can do this too, aka James convincing him MI6 using him for example would make him an enemy)

Physical Appearance:

Height: 1.94 m

Weight: 200 lbs

Hair colour: Dark blonde/ brown

Eye colour: Blue

Skin Colour: White

Dominant Hand: Right

Faceclaim: Alexander Skarsgård

Personality: Ethan struggles a lot with who he wants to be and what his body tells him to be. When he has given into the darker aspects of his nature he is cold, uncaring and seemingly distant not just from others but himself, like he is only half in his body whilst his mind is elsewhere. He also comes across as quite negative unless he is pretending to be someone else, he isn't perfect but he has always been able to spot anyone who could see through him and in most cases has taken care of them.

This is all very different if he feels the love and/or value of compassion as he once did. Ethan is much more careful and very focused on whatever task is at hand, his main goal being to stay away from his old path. It does not keep him from doubting others as he had always done. Wanting to be able to form connections with others also leaves him open to various influences, he absorbs the emotions and feelings of those around him.

Backstory:

Born into a family with a dangerous and unpredictable gene, he was raised in a cabin in the woods by his father Darian Brooks. This gene makes those with it more prone to violence as more adrenaline is released into the bloodstream than normal, giving it an almost addictive quality. It is unknown if any other families share the gene since his family didn't want to attract any more attention to themselves than they already have. A side effect of the gene is night terrors and haunting dreams. These often plagued him, and his father encouraged him to embrace them and to ‘become the monster’ as otherwise, the fear would destroy him. Growing up away from people he learned everything from his father and also when they would move into towns to learn about people in general and what made them tick before moving away again. Ethan often spent much time by himself as his father was often away, later on, he would learn it was for his work, which was being an assassin. Whilst also learning survival skills and learning from the books his father left behind, he learned his father had learned of this gene only a few years ago after he wanted to find a true answer to the family ‘curse’ that had been traced in records all the way too the 1400’s.

In his early 20’s he was ready to join the assassin group called ‘The Covenant’ that his father was part of, for the next ten years he was trained to be a killer and encouraged to embrace his ‘gifts’. Soon losing himself he became very effective at his job as he took on harder and harder jobs. Twenty years later after taking down other assassins, well-protected targets and much more He rose to the higher rankings, twenty years later he took on a seemingly difficult but not too difficult job that would be his last. Joining the army he blended in and fully played the role of a soldier, even making ‘friends’. His orders were to take out a fellow member of his battalion the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, who had recently survived an attack by his father and had killed him in the process. Fuming with anger it was difficult to keep his impulses under control, it took a whole year to be able to be trusted by his target who was understandably on edge. Whilst there what he hadn't expected was to fall in love with another officer, Xavier Clark. They hid their relationship since whilst Ethan told him he wanted to take things slow, in reality, he didn't want it to get back to The Covenant.

Ethan learned the value of love and started to learn compassion, his darker impulses seemed to lose some of their power. He still wanted to kill his target but he wanted to wait until the end of the tour as his lover would not be at risk of seeing him. The Covenant sent someone out to check on things and discovering why he had a change of heart they killed Xavier and framed the target for the murder. Furious he finally decided to go for it, gun raised he headed towards his target, not expecting John Watson to be standing in front of the gun, what happened next was even more shocking. He managed to reach into him with his words and he lowered his gun as he apologised and wished for a different life. Thanking Watson he gladly went with the security services who took him away.

Months followed, in that time the Covenant was destroyed by an unknown force, and only wreckage was found. He soon shut down and wouldn't talk, it was only when he was reminded of the first and only time he loved he acknowledged that he wanted things to be different. Given the chance to try again but only if he worked for MI6 under close supervision and worked as surveillance on tricky targets with only killing when absolutely necessary, he agreed to the terms, after all being locked up was not doing him any good. A few months into the job he senses his movements being tracked, being sent a message reading ‘see you soon Shadow Viper’, he doesn't know whether to trust anyone with this or to simply try and find a way out of this mess himself.

Verses:

Main (Sherlock, Bond)- Government agent, after he is captured and then released double agent for the Consluting Criminal or anyone else if they would like him

Dracula/ Supernatural’s among us verse: Ethan has always had the darkness run through his veins, will he be able to stay away from those that his blood urges him to go to? Ethan is learning to be a hunter in this verse. Instead of a gene, it is a literal curse that is in the form of a dark flame tattoo on his left arm

Van Helsing- Dracula had a child before he turned to evil, this child was raised by the church and hidden from others and also his father for many years. What will happen if he is discovered?

TBA

#ooc post #mori talks #potential OC interaction call

[yermes]

Well guys its almost mothers day and after being around internet practitioners I know that some of you have some SERIOUS family issues. And or cannot see your moms this coming mothers day (Im away from mine atm) But thats okay. Ill be your mom today and give you some motherly advice with the deck that my mother gave me (:

So welcome to my Norwegian household there’s tea and chocolate swirl banana bread! (Usually I would make lefse for a baking venture but my parents wouldn’t let my grubby lil whore hands take the lefse press) so we have banana bread.

Pick a meme

Pick a card

Queen of Swords 🕯️

In this deck this card represents a more water aspect of air. The sharp thought of insight, and sitting upon her throne above the storm. While she does represent the chaos of the storm she also represents the cleansing aspect which chaos can bring. While seen as cruel, chaotic, and destructive i argue that these are needed qualities for change and growth. You may be in the eye of the storm now but the wisdom you will gain from this will be useful for the next time you are in a more chaotic shittier storm. (Sorry queen I feel ya a bitch can’t catch a goddamn break.)

Ace of Pents 🍀

Representative of earth and material manifestation. The people huddle close to the card in safety. However, the physical also needs the none physical to manifest. Don’t get to hung up on the material when the nonmaterial is lack luster. However, whenever possible relish in the safety and fulfillment which the physical and the matron can offer.

Seven of Swords 🤡

Wow. If fuck around and find out was in the dictionary your face would be right next to that shit. Basically, you tried however, you didn’t do enough. The seven of swords is a young soldier took the enemies swords but he left a few and his enemies rise to pursue him. Whether you get away or get yeeted is up to you. Roll for speed and charisma and hope you land a 20 😩

Whether you get to spend mothers day with your mom, are away from your mom, have a bad relationship and or not with mom I hope I could give you a little bit of that good motherly vibes today

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Take a forehead kiss^

Now for a long drawn out lecturey story about my life with an eventual point to really give you that empress matron energy you’re missing.

As a Chaos Magician who has been a terror on the internet for a little less then a decade I look back and see myself being heavily influenced by the people I was around.

(If you’re thinking you’re a chaos magician and all you post is tarot readings?I just refuse to give advice to the same internet that tried to curse the fucking moon okay? Okay.)

And you know what I am still influenced to this day. Not in the same ways obviously. When I first started my lil girlfriend at the time brought me into this kik group chat full of practitioners from different mental well beings (IYKYK) to different walks of life and some of these people are still my best friends to this day. Eventually we moved to discord but there was an issue. One of the bigger personalities of the group straight up didn’t like me. And thats fine. But it always got malicious super fast and eventually they got booted from the group along with a few others. But I notice looking back how I bended and shaped my “Germ” personality online to walk on eggshells around them. Now thankfully I was just shaping my online persona to please them while being myself offline but it taught me a lesson about morality and “isness”. Basically. Nothing is. No I won’t elaborate bc whats the fun in that. But Morality can be extremely empty. After being around all these talented practitioners and becoming one myself I saw that at times “bad” intentioned magic can have positive out comes and “good” intentioned magic can have some extremely awful outcomes. When you do magic and practice need to at times you need to realize that it will always manifest in a very realistic way and realistic isn’t always #livelovelaughlight

So anyways. This asshole tried to curse me and since my “Germsona” was so cataclysmically different than how I am IRL. It couldn’t hurt me. They tried to curse Germ not me and since Germ was so different and so molded to this individual I could walk away without a scratch. Be safe out there kiddos and remember I will always be here to give you awful and cringe advice ❤️

Love Germ

The nana bread 😩

#suitlifeofgerm #askgerm #pick a card #daily card #pick a picture #bad motherly advice #I love my kids #I hope you all have a good day #I am literally sitting here stuffing my face with this shit lmao