Guys I Have So Many Wips, Idek What To Do. And I Want To Come Back To My Bucky Roots. And I Also Want

guys i have so many wips, idek what to do. and i want to come back to my bucky roots. and i also want to finish that one series for azriel. but i cant even starrrrrrrrrt, even tho i want it so bad. its so frustrating.

maybe jujutsu kaisen (manga) finally coming to an end is getting me on my feelings. i cant stand it, it makes me so mad and sad at the same time!! when i catch you gege

anyway. done yapping. sorry for disturbing your peace!

... is my bucky hyperfixation coming back?

Sebastian Stan in Thunderbolts

You don't need anyone's approval for the stories you write and the art you create. But it's also absolutely valid to want some approval from your audience. Kudos and likes don't determine your creation's worth. But it just feels amazing to receive them.

the exile (1)

series summary. y/n knew that her whole life was outside the Palace, but it was hard to resist when the Crown Prince had been chasing her for as long as she could remember. doomed to an end where everything she loves has to be abandoned, y/n is forced to restart her life far from her mother, her village that saw her grow up and the man she loves. who would've thought that loving would come at such a high price…

pairing. prince!jungkook x f!reader

content. english is not my first lenguage! violence. royal themes. be-heading is still spoken of in this kingdom, nothing that will materialize. use of swords. someone is almost dying. a lot of anxiety.

a/n. ummm hello. i just wanted to leave this here. >:) hope you like it!! see you next time <3

series masterlist | bts masterlist | next

The fear you felt didn't allow you to raise your head. You could only watch the Queen's shoes, standing in front of you, her eyes carving your neck as if she wanted to break your body in two. Her cold and condescending words were echoing in your head, spinning around like an old spinning top that has no end. You knew this day might come someday, a voice in the back of your head was always reminding you that you were abusing borrowed time and that at some point the universe would put you where you deserved to be. Where you belonged.

There was no light at the end of the road. The beacon that guided you had lost its glow and you were wandering lost in the deep, cold ocean. You knew he could do nothing to help you. He hadn't even been allowed to come to the square. His punishment was going to be not being able to say goodbye, you knew this from the Queen's dry words, full of a forced rationality that spat from her mouth as the absolute truth. You didn't understand how anyone could be so cruel. How anyone could unleash tremendous fury against an act of kindness and innocence.

“Wangbi.”

A sob echoed through the crowd. The voice behind you caused you to shiver, the air rushing through your body aggravating your sensations to the point where you felt like you could freeze in the bright sunlight. You closed your eyes tightly, your hands clasped behind your back. She couldn't do that, what was she thinking?

“Wangbi,” she spoke again and your body almost moved forward out of instinct. The pressure you felt in your throat from holding back tears of helplessness was cutting off your breath, and you didn't know that the feeling of not being able to speak out of respect could be so suffocating. “Please, have mercy.”

You heard a struggle and a wail left your lips.

“Eommoni,” you raised your voice, lucky to be able to speak harshly and firmly. “Enough is enough. The Queen's will is greater than your wailing.”

Subtly, you averted your gaze from the queen's shoes and turned to observe your mother behind you. You saw first her eyes, filled with uncontainable tears unlike yours, an agonized expression adorning her face and you promptly felt that anguish, anger, guilt and reproach for not having been more careful as she told you. Then you saw the knights holding each of her arms, holding her in place as if she were a threat, as if she were capable of hurting the Queen for whatever incomprehensible reason.

“Don't make it worse,” you almost whispered, but the silence that dominated the square allowed your mother to understand and her face contracted in pain.

More sobs echoed in the square as you returned your gaze to the ground.

“No,” your mother cried, "Please have mercy on my daughter. I can't lose her- she's my only daughter!"

Many things were going through your head at the same time. The possibility that your mother would end up kneeling before the Queen like you was one of them. The mere thought caused you such a wave of panic that you could only pray that the Queen would have mercy on her. She was a mother too. Couldn't she think how that would make her feel if it were the other way around, and the crown prince was right where you were at that moment, and she was in the back screaming for her life and cornered as if she were a criminal just for wanting to save her son's life?

“I will pay for her mistakes, wangbi, take me instead. Please.”

The Queen's feet disappeared from your sight. The fear that began to run through your body made you shake your head unconsciously, fearful that your mother would be pushed to the center where you were. You looked up to see the Queen's face staring behind you, right where you knew your mother was struggling with the knights. Her face was empty, unable to hint at any thought through her expression. You knew the stories, you had heard some and witnessed others for yourself, and you knew she was not an accommodating, patient or even kind person.

The Queen was the most feared woman in the kingdom.

In that same square where you found yourself kneeling in the stinging sunlight, the same central place where the citizens' stalls were located, in the same place where they gathered every year to celebrate the Festival of Lights, the executions of more than 200 people had taken place in the last twenty years. There, where people gathered to shop, eat and celebrate, where children ran their dogs and peasants sold their potatoes, the Queen used it as an example of purgatory on earth. Every time an execution took place, it was a reminder that their lives did not belong to them, that nothing was really theirs, ours, but that the Palace held all the strength and fortitude to take whatever they wanted and whenever they wanted.

No one ever stood in this square without thinking that a stranger, a friend, a relative had been killed there. No one passed through the square without fearing that someday it might be their turn.

It was the constant reminder that we lived, not because freedom existed, but because the monarchs wished it so.

You had done so. You had passed the square enough times avoiding the right side of the left side of the square that was just in front of the palace down the mountain. That piece of the square was untouchable. All citizens avoided it like the plague. Some children told that, if you stepped beyond the invisible line, that line that was marked on the square because of the platform on which the Queen would put her guillotine or gallows, and which over time had become a floor space with a much lighter color than the rest of the floor of the square, you would be condemned and the Queen would end your life the next day. It was a cursed space.

And, at that moment, your knees were millimeters away from crossing the line between the filth of the square and the neatness of death.

The platform had not yet been set up. Knowing the Queen and understanding the background of your case, you knew she sought to give you a public humiliation. At least something that wouldn't allow her to remember you with respect, not even with compassion.

You followed her movements with your gaze until she stopped, not far from where you were. She raised her hand as a symbol of silence, and you knew your mother was making a great effort not to rant in front of her.

Your gaze was wary. You tried to catch any movement trying to decipher what the Queen was thinking as she looked at your mother. You wanted to understand what was going through her head so you could prepare yourself and know if you were going to have to offer up your already doomed life again to keep your mother from suffering the same wretched future.

“Is she your only daughter?”

“Yes,” your mother replied instantly, her voice riddled with hope only because the Queen had addressed her. It pained you to think that by that she thought she had earned it, that she had managed to save you from misfortune.

“And being your only daughter, couldn't you have educated her better to keep her filthy hands off what doesn't belong to her?” The Queen spat, her voice rising after each angrily spat word.

You watched your mother hold her breath and give you a look. You saw a flash of fury pass in front of her eyes and you shuddered at the possibility that she dared to defy you. You frowned at her, your head subtly shaking in refusal.

“I raised her as best I could, your majesty. My daughter is not a thief and not a bad person either.”

“The evidence showed otherwise,” the Queen countered with a raised head, almost daring your mother to speak further. “You yourself saw what they found inside your house, and you still have the gall to look me in the eye and beg for mercy?”

You held your breath for a few seconds. You knew the tone of voice the Queen had used, as well as all the people in the square. The only way the citizens had learned to understand, halfway, the Queen, was through her voice. Normally she doesn't say much, when she speaks it is in the calmest and most neutral tone possible. But now she was enraged. Angry. The way she raised her voice wasn't something you heard very often, but when you heard it it seemed like everyone around her ran away or hid as best they could.

That voice… It was the call of death.

“Wangbi, please,” your mother implored again. You watched her lower her head. Her legs lost the stability of her body which bent downward until the knights had to release her, and finally she knelt before the Queen. “I will pay the punishment. I will take her place.”

You turned to look at the Queen. And you could barely notice a glimmer of her expression, a gleam of satisfaction at seeing your mother beg for your life's salvation. It was disgusting. Repulsive. The shadow of a smile vanished almost instantly, and the unwavering expression of neutrality returned. Still, you could glimpse the anger on her face, and you knew she wasn't trying to hide it.

The Queen had her reasons for being angry. You knew it. Your mother knew it. The Queen was not wrong. Surely the decision was disproportionate, but acting out of insurmountable fear did not allow her to give way to more logical and just thinking.

Death was your punishment for the sin of loving.

And there could be no argument about it.

The Queen's dry laughter drew all eyes.

“I gave you a chance to stay in your home, and yet here you are, pleading for an indelible doom.”

The angry sound of your mother's voice sent chills down your spine:

“What kind of a mother would I be if I tried to let my daughter at the feet of her own death?”

The Queen embodied an eyebrow, you saw her shake her head from your place. The fingers of her hands intertwined in front of her body subtly moved the rings she wore that day, never taking her intense gaze from your mother's figure.

“It's the least he could do knowing what your daughter had done. What kind of parent would come for their child like a proud one when her actions shame their family?”

“What kind of parent would abandon his child?”

Your mother's cry was followed by silence.

The Queen took a step back, her face contracting in indignation. You closed your eyes tightly for a moment and inhaled trying to calm your heart, beating indiscriminately fast at the fear invading your mind.

It scared you even more that there was really nothing you could do. If you tried to get up, the knight to your left wasn't going to hesitate to swing his sword and slit your throat. If your mother got any closer to the Queen, there was going to be nothing left of her. You couldn't move, she couldn't move. If you kept it up, neither of you would ever leave the square.

The only thing you could do was to pray for a…

“Eommoni!”

… miracle.

You opened your eyes with a start. Your head frantically moved from side to side trying to search for the source of that voice, of his voice. Suddenly you felt that you really couldn't hold back the tears, that you couldn't be that strong, that you just didn't have the strength to make up your mind that this day must be the last day of your life. No. You couldn't. Not when he was there. Not when, surely, he had done everything he could to get there. Not when he had fought to reach you.

But…

What could you do to stop him?

“Eommoni!”

The angry exclamation filled the silence of the square again, and the people who had crowded around to watch began to murmur. That clearly did not go unnoticed by the Queen, who was looking at all the people in the square with narrowed eyes. You knew she knew they were going to start talking, asking questions.

The citizens looked at the Queen, looked at you, and then looked at the path the Crown Prince was coming down. You knew that the Queen knew it was only a matter of time before they put two and two together and came to a conclusion that would not please the monarch and the reputation of the Palace. You knew that her plan had fallen apart and was slipping through her fingers like water. She tried to hide it, but her eyes glittered uneasily.

“Juwon,” the Queen exclaimed turning to look at the knight on your left.

The man did not hesitate for a second to set off in the direction in which the Crown Prince was coming, taking after him other knights who had arrived that morning with the Queen.

And then, the Queen's gaze focused on you.

She began to take long strides towards where you stood and you felt so helpless and uneasy thinking that you could only stay kneeling looking at her, even if she planned to take your life herself with her own hands.

“Wangbi!” your mother cried out again.

The Queen barely gave her a glance, but with almost no time to reach you her path ended as she heard several swords being drawn at the same time.

She paused, looking around, and you inhaled sharply before looking back. It was as if the world had begun to go in slow motion.

Your mother had escaped from the knights guarding her and had moved closer to the Queen, much closer than she should have, and the men behind her had moved in to swing their swords and hold her in place. She wasn't hurt. She looked frightened, her eyes moving between your body and the halted figure of the Queen.

You let the air out.

“Jungkook,” the Queen hissed.

Then you saw it.

Behind the Queen, a few feet away, with more than five swords wielded in his direction, stood the Crown Prince. His own sword glinted in the sunlight raised against the knights. His face was bathed in fury, his brow furrowed and you could barely notice his tense jaw. He watched the Queen as if she were the only person in this square, and the Queen watched him back as if he were a gnat in her soup.

“Go to the Palace,” the Queen verbalized, her words empty of any emotion without taking her eyes off her son.

“Let them go first,” the Prince tried to bargain, but at this the Queen let out a wry laugh.

“What position do you think you have to try to question my decisions?”

The Prince, contrary to being intimidated at the look and tone of voice in which his mother addressed those words to him, smiled cynically at her.

“At the moment I think I have a very good position.”

His words generated more hubbub among the people who were already murmuring, and the Queen did not lose sight of that.

Nor did she fail to notice how the Prince gave you a fleeting glance before raising his sword again without really caring about the others that were pointed at him. You knew he was a bit oblivious, but at that moment he was playing with fire.

Jeon Jungkook was the eldest son and only male of the four children the Queen had had, therefore he was the heir to the throne. He usually used that as a bribe to his parents when he wanted to do something, threatening that, if they didn't let him do something, he would give up the throne to his uncle, with whom his parents were not very familiar. Most of the time he got his way, but at the time you feared that his mother would rather he resign, or they would get rid of him, than let him get away with it.

That threat did not escape the Prince's eyes and the Queen was aware of it.

“Jeon Jungkook, I command you to return to the Palace this very instant,” the Queen bellowed, her arm moving to point back the way she came.

Her words sounded more uncontrolled, anger seeping from every pore of her body.

“I will, as long as you come back that way with me,” her son shot back.

You noticed the Queen's clasped hands on either side of his body.

“This is not the time to argue about this.”

“Ah, now is not a good time? I agree with that. The time to discuss this was last night, when you locked me in the dungeon without even addressing me or giving me an explanation.”

“You have no say in this, Jungkook, you're not above me.”

The Prince's gaze drifted slightly after hearing his mother's words. You barely noticed how the hubbub of voices quieted down.

“Maybe I'm not,” he agreed serenely and you frowned at that.

“That's enough.”

Silence settled over the square.

The King was here.

“Wangbi,” he turned his gaze to his wife, who watched him with a flash of anger in her eyes. She knew what was coming and she didn't like it, “Why don't you escort your son back to the Palace? I see you have things to talk about."”

“Wang-”

“Now,” the King cut off the Queen's attempt at reasoning. “I will finish this trial.”

Stupefied, you watched her move without looking back. Her body passed right by her son, not venturing a glance at you, but her son was more focused on anything other than that.

His eyes inspected your figure, still kneeling on the ground. You felt the wails make their way down your throat, and you had to muster all your power to keep from becoming an uncontrollable mass of weeping in front of all the people watching them.

You weren't afraid when he finally had to turn around to leave, because you knew that if it wasn't safe for you he would be at your side in a couple of seconds.

Then, you were intrigued to know what the King would say.

“Inhabitants of Sapphire,” the King began, moving until he was almost in front of you, “I'm afraid there won't be any executions to watch today.”

At this, surprised exclamations were not long in coming, including yours.

“Nevertheless, knowing the Queen's reasons for calling this trial, there must be punishment for the one responsible for the crimes committed.”

Amidst the hubbub, you could hear your mother crying, but you were unable to turn to see her. Knowing that there really was a possibility other than the one that summoned you to this place, you remained static in your place for fear of spoiling everything.

“Y/N L/N,” the King spoke, your head moving to stare at him at the harshness in his voice, your body anxious with your heart on the verge of bursting. “As King of these lands, sovereign of their goods and wealth, final executioner of every crime committed against the crown, I declare today before the people and the square that saw the birth of our nation, that you will be condemned to exile with no chance of appeal.”

Your body leaned forward as you let out the air you were holding back. The mixture of the voices of the people behind you with all the thoughts that were going through your head was overwhelming you so much that you couldn't even understand what was happening.

Had… had the King forgiven you?

The look in Jungkook's eyes before he left suddenly made more sense. If what he said was true, then you couldn't really get an idea of how he was able to escape from the Palace dungeons and convince his father to save you from certain death. You moved your eyes to watch the monarch. The King was the unpredictable one of all those who made up the royal family. In this case, in your case, you had previously been certain that the execution had been a two-party decision.

Apparently, you were wrong.

“Let this decree endure in force until the day of my death.”

The King's gaze met yours. His face empty of emotion, like his wife's.

But you couldn't help the confused expression that adorned your face at his words. It was not against the law what he had ruled, the crimes of which you were accused could've different penalties depending on the harm that had been caused against the crown; however, it had been decades, almost centuries, since a King had decreed the end of a punishment with his death.

With his gaze on yours, he continued, “You have until midnight to leave the city. There will be knights at your house, in the carriage and the exit of the city watching to see that all goes neatly.”

His gaze refocused on the crowd in front of him.

“This trial is over.”

And without further ado, he turns on his heels in the direction of the palace.

i'm so ready to sink into AO3 for the rest of the night after the last chapter of jjk comes out. all i know is that i'm not ready for whatever comes out and time couldn't pass any sloweeeeeeeer 😭

Made this as a joke when bestie commented her writing fairy must have visited me to get me to pump out 3K words tonight.