#'why does this carriage look like a cat? i will not ride inside a cat'

[dyrewrites]

You know what, this is fine.

I can work with this.

It ruins some of my torture of the old man, but it's alright because it gives me a chance to let his husband torture him sooner.

Which is great.

Granted my cross-over plans will have to wait until a later book, but that'll be fine. I don't have Ash's personality fleshed out anyway.

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Trash Romance Novel Geralt Smut

You see him for the first time when he opens the door of the carriage for you.

Your mother had been so cross with you for flirting with the stunning red haired lad from over the way, that she had send you to the countryside. To your Aunt's estate, because surely the fresh air and lack of peers would set you right. Your aunt is an old spinster with no husband and an abundance of cats. And several horses.

He is gorgeous. His hair is ashen and his eyes an exotic sort of amber. He takes care of your Aunt's horses and lives in an apartment above the stables.

His name is Geralt.

"Madam, may I carry your suitcases?" He asks. He is so gentle it makes you feel all fluttery. "Oh ... yes, please." You nod. He takes your suitcases and follows you and your mother inside. Your aunt is waiting there and dismisses him right away. He gives a little dip of his head and takes his leave.

You spend the first few days meeting your Aunt's rich old batty lady friends. They assure you they have very handsome nephews and sons. Between cups of tea and scones they take your measure for their eligible male relatives.

At first you get no chance to go find Geralt again.

But then your Aunt tells you you can borrow one of her horses. You take the chance gladly. "Pick any of my horses." Says your aunt.

So you pick a pretty red roan mare. And Geralt comes right over to help you with her.

"What is her name?" You ask him. "Her name Pionny." Geralt replies. He shows you how to saddle her. You can barely concentrate on what he explains though. All you focus on is his strong arms and his deft hands.

"Ma'am?" Geralt asks.

You fluster and look away. Geralt chuckles softly. "Were you looking at me?" He teases. "I ... erm.. Yes." You mutter. You feel it senseless to lie to him. "Why?" Asks Geralt. You cast your eyes back at him. "Are you kidding?" You reply. "Look at you!" You exclaim. Geralt flusters a little, but a grin tugs at his lips.

"Look at me?" He asks.

"Oh all day long." You reply. "Genuinely?" Geralt takes a little step closer. He is in your personal space now. Your heart beats in your throat. Pionny nickers and gives you a little nudge. Suddenly you are pressed against Geralt. He looks down on you and sends you a charming smirk. Fluster rises to your cheeks at how handsome he is.

Oh if only be would take you in arms..

But instead he pick you up by the waist and hoists you in the saddle. You can't stop a little yelp from escaping your lips. "Don't be afraid." Geralt says. You huff softly. "I am not afraid." You tell him. "Good." Geralt smiles up at you.

He takes Pionny by the briddle and leads her outside.

"Can you handle it from here, or should I walk with you?" He asks. You are tempted to ask him to join, but decide it too greedy. You can't have it all at once. "I can handle it." You say.

You take up the habit of taking Pionny out riding every day.

Every day Geralt insists on helping you saddle her. And every day he smiles at you so handsomely. He still calls you ma'am, in that wonderful rumbling voice of his. And every time he does, your underbelly fills with butterflies.

"Geralt." You say, on a sunny summer day. "Yes ma'am?" Geralt replies gently. "Come with me today. Ride out with me." You invite him. "Gladly ma'am." Geralt smiles warmly down on you.

He saddles his black stallion and you prove you can saddle your horse just fine by yourself. Geralt elects not to say anything about it, though. You ride out into the fields.

You have been prudent enough to have a maid go ahead to set up a picnic. And once you arrive, you know for certain it was wisdom.

"You have been planning this, haven't you." Geralt murmurs. You send him a wide smile. "I might have." You cooe. You dismouth and let Pionny graze. Geralt also slides out of the saddle and sets his stallion loose.

You sit down on the picnic blanket and smooth out your skirts. Geralt sits down beside you. "You are a very clever woman." He murmurs. "I would like to think so." You smile up at him. You are almost sucked into those strangely coloured eyes.

Geralt leans forward ever so slightly and his hand places over yours. Your heartbeat quickens and your breath catches in the back of your throat. But then Geralt reaches into the picnic basket. "Let me see what you had us brought." He rumbles.

You try not to expel your breath too loudly...

Geralt smirks, retracting his hand from the basket. His fingers instead find your chin. He tips your head back a little. "Close those smiling eyes." He rumbled. You oblige, albeit slowly. You prefer to keep looking at him. You feel he leans in by the heat rolling off of his body. Your heart rate picks up a little. You know what will happen now, you are no fool.

Geralt's lips caress yours in the barest ghost of a kiss. It might not be much of a touch, your heart begins to race. You can't help a moan. Geralt groans in reply. You hear how lustful he sounds. "Already?" You whisper. "Already what?" Geralt asks. "Already excited." You reach out and place your hand on his thigh. Geralt flusters a little. "I ... I can't deny I am rather excited to be so close to you." He rumbles. You grin and squeeze his thigh. "You can be even closer." You tease.

Geralt cups your cheek with a large, warm hand. "I would like that." He murmurs huskily. He lips press upon yours in a genuine kiss. Another moan rises from your throat. It is so good to be kisses by a man like Geralt. You scoot a little closer. Geralt reached out to you and reels you in yet closer. Before you know it, you are in his lap.

And oh, he is firm against you. His muscles are clear under the fabric of his clothes. You shudder at how strong he feels. "Do you like what you feel?" Geralt murmurs. "Absolutely." You whisper. You run your hand over his vast chest. He feels so incredibly strong.

You lay down and beckon Geralt to come hither.

He licks his lips.

No time is wasted in crawling on top of you. Geralt closes the distance and kisses you fiercely. You moan eagerly into his mouth.  He groans and lowers his pelvis against your. You feel his cock is hard in the confines of his trousers. “Oh .. oh gods.” You whisper against his lips. Geralt pulls back a little. “Too much?” He asks. You hesitate to answer.  He might be a bit too large indeed. He’ll need to prepare you well. "No." You answer. "Are you sure?" Geralt murmurs. "Yes, but you will have to prepare me well. You are so shapely and large." You whisper. "No need to worry, sweetling. I know by now how to make a woman wet." Geralt rumbles. 

You feel jealous of the women he has been with before you. But you try not to think of them. He is with you now. He is going to make you feel so good. Better than you have ever felt. 

Carefully, Geralt helps you out of your dress. An arduous process if there ever was one. There are so many layers and laces. You are sort of surprised Geralt is still hard when you are in only your thin white underdress. The cloth of which is so thin it is all but translucent. 

He draws you into another kiss. His lips are so fierce on yours it makes you weak in the knees. You moan ever so softly. Geralt makes use of this opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue.  You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at his pale locks. He groans at the sensation, sucking gingerly at your lips. You whimper and pressing your body firmly against his.  Geralt moves his body firmly against yours. You can feel his cock through his breeches and your shift. It’s grinding down on you, catching on your clit with every roll of Geralt’s firm body. 

“Will you undress for me?” You whisper against his lips. “Hm.” Does Geralt. 

He backs off and stands up. He undresses himself in a hurry. You look breathlessly up at him. What he unveils is nothing short of art. It is like the old masters have all come together to create him.   “Gods... Geralt.” You whisper. He smirks down on you. “That bad?” He murmurs. You shake your head. “That great.” You whisper.Geralt flushes a little, but grins down on you. 

“Now you.” He rumbles. You nod and take off your under dress, sitting before him in your small clothes. “Those too.” Geralt seems not to care for them. “Say please.” You cooe. “Must I do it myself?” Geralt growls. He draws you against him, pulling at your bustiere and then your knickers, drawing them from you, the flimsy fabric tearing under his large hand. 

“Those were my nice smalls!” You scold. “They were very nice, but they were in my way.” Geralt rumbles. 

His hand travels over the length of your body, from neck to ass. You quiver in his embrace, whimpering softly. You are yearning for more of his touch, but he keeps his hands only on your skin, not on your most sensitive parts. He kisses you deeply though. His tongue thrusts into your mouth and you moan. Geralt replies with a loud groan. He draws you into his lap. You feel his cock against your thigh and your belly. He is so large. How is he ever going to fit inside you? You squirm a little, but this rubs you against his cock. Geralt groans into your mouth. 

You reach down, to carefully caress the head of his cock. Geralt groans darkly.  “Do-don’t.” He rasps. “Why not?” You ask him, innocently and slightly confused. “I won’t be able to control myself.” Geralt replies. “I will throw you down and fuck you, no holds barred.” He tells you. You nuzzle at his throat. “Maybe I want that.” You purr. “No you don’t. It will hurt when I do that.” Geralt replies. “No, no you won’t hurt me.” You cooe. You are convinced that Geralt will be good to you. 

The stablehand throws you down, hovering over you. “Don’t be a fool, Y/N.” He rasps.

You open your legs for him, slowly, trying to be seductive. “Fuck.” Geralt swears under his breath.  He wastes no more time in getting his face between your thighs. You squeal as his lips connect to your folds. Geralt groans in reply. 

His tongue parts your folds and you moan loudly. You are glad only Geralt and the horses can hear you. Carefully, Geralt sucks down on your clit. You cannot control the sounds that pour from your mouth. It is just too good. It is pleasure like you have never experienced before. “Oh g-god.” You whine. Geralt smirks against your womanhood. He shoves his tongue inside you. You cry out in pleasure and Geralt begins fucking you with his tongue. 

Swiftly, he brings you to a climax. You feel like you are floating and on fire at the same time. 

Groaning, Geralt laps up your arousal. “You taste amazing.” He growls. You flush brightly. Your mind is still spinning and you most certainly need a moment to gather your wits about you again.  Geralt smirks at you and licks ever so carefully at your clit once more. You moan and try to squirm away. But Geralt is not letting you. He keeps you pinned to the blanket.

“Please, please.” You whimper. “Please what?” Geralt rumbles. You fluster, but know he wants you to say it out loud. “Please, fuck me.” You whisper. You dare not look at him. But he chuckles softly. “I will, my sweet.” He murmurs.  

He crawls up your body, kissing you fiercely. You taste yourself on his tongue.  His cock kisses your opened folds. Your breath hitches. You are no innocent fool, you know what comes next. And gods does he feel large.  Geralt grinds down on you and groans darkly. “You are so wet.” He growls. He grabs his cock and teases your core with the head of it. You whimper loudly. It feels so good. 

“I-inside. I need you inside me.” You whisper. 

Geralt wastes no time in obliging to your desire.  He pushes into you slowly. You flinch a little at the stretch. He is just so fucking big. He opens you so wide that you almost fear you’ll tear. But then he starts rubbing your clit. You moan and forget all about the stretch. All you focus on is the pleasure. 

“Fuck, you are so tight. You’re wet, and tight. I’ll need to do my best not to cum when you do.” Geralt grunts. “J-just be ge-gentle, please.” You whimper. “Of course I will be.” Geralt rumbles.  He rubs you while rolling his pelvis. It hits all the right spots. You arch your back, curls your toes and moan. You moan lustfully for Geralt. And Geralt groans in reply. 

“You feel so good.” He growls.  “Y-you .. you do too.” You moan softly. He feels so amazing. He’s got you so close to the edge already. You need only just a little more. Just a little while longer. All he’ll have to do is keep going. “Like that. M-more ... Just like tha-that.” You manage to gasp. “Okay.” Geralt nods ever so slightly.  So he keeps rubbing you, while also thrusting slowly into you. You moan, clinging ot his shoulder with one hand and running your other into his hair. You give a tug and Geralt groans darkly. 

“Fuck.” He growls. 

His thrusts grow more fierce, but he keeps rubbing your clit in the same way. You squeal in pleasure. Geralt helps you tilt your pelvis ever so slightly, his thrusts aimed right at your g-spot. It is enough to tip you over the edge. Fire spreads through your extremities and lightning strikes down your spine. Your core contracts on his cock and you feel tingles all over. It is so fucking good to cum on his cock!

“Fuck.” Geralt groans. “You’re gona milk my cock.” He slams into you without any mercy. You cry out his name and cling to him. “Do it, give it to me, cum for me.” You encourage him hoarsely.  Geralt stills and grunts as he spends himself inside you. “Oohhoo fuck yes.” He growls. You moan at the mere sounds of him. It is so sexy. Everything about Geralt is so fucking sexy.

Slowly he pulls out. You whine at the loss. 

“That was so good.” You whisper. “Yes, it was, thank you.” Geralt rumbles. “No, thank you.” You cooe, arching up to press a kiss against his lips. Geralt happily kisses you back, taking you into his arms. 

[theplanchetteprincess]

Assigning the Twisted Wonderland Students Musical Theater Songs

~ Heartslabyul Dorm

Riddle Rosehearts - “Why We Build the Wall” (Hadestown)

“And our work is never done / My children, my children! / And the war is never won!”

Ace Trappola  - “Good Kid” (The Lightning Thief)

“I never try to do anything / I never mean to hurt anyone / I try, I try to be a good kid / A good kid / A good son”

Deuce Spade - “St. Jimmy” (American Idiot)

“I really hate to say it but I told you so / So shut your mouth before I shoot you down, old boy (St. Jimmy!) / Welcome to the club and give me some blood / And the resident leader at the lost and found (St. Jimmy!)”

Trey Clover - “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” (Oklahoma!)

“Oh, what a beautiful mornin' / Oh, what a beautiful day / I've got a beautiful feelin' / Everything's goin' my way”

Cater Diamond - “Normal American Boy” (Bye Bye Birdie)

“He's as sober as a judge! / He subscribes to ev'ry charity! / And his hobby's making fudge! / For he's a fine upstanding, patriotic, healthy, normal American boy”

~ Savanaclaw Dorm

Leona Kingscholar - “The Rum Tum Tugger” (Cats)

“When you let me in, then I want to go out / I'm always on the wrong side of every door / As soon as I'm at home, then I'd like to get about / I like to lie in the bureau drawer / But I make such a fuss if I can't get out”

Jack Howl - “Wait for It” (Hamilton: an American Musical)

“I am the one thing in life I can control / (Wait for it, wait for it, wait for it, wait for it) / I am inimitable / I am an original / I'm not falling behind or running late / (Wait for it, wait for it, wait for it, wait for it) I'm not standing still / I am lying in wait (Wait, wait, wait)”

Ruggie Bucchi - “Santa Fe” (Newsies)

“Where does it say you gotta live and die here? / Where does it say a guy can't catch a break? / Why should you only take what you're given? / Why should you spend your whole life living trapped where there ain't no future / Even at 17! / Breaking your back for someone else's sake!”

~ Octavinelle Dorm

Azul Ashengrotto - “This Song is Awesome” (Ride the Cyclone)

“Yo yo yo yo yo, this is song to tell you that what you is, is what you got. And I'm here to say that I am the money! / what you is / is what you've got / and I am the money / take a look, baby, he's the real ka-ching”

Jade Leech - “Way Down Hadestown (Reprise)” (Hadestown)

“Mr. Hades set you free / To work yourself into the ground / Free to spend eternity / In the factory / And the warehouse / Where the whistles scream / And the foreman shouts / And you’re punchin' in / And punchin' in / And punchin' in / And you can't punch out,”

Floyd Leech - “Raise a Little Hell” (Bonnie and Clyde)

“I won't get to Heaven / Why not raise a little Hell? / No way I'll see Heaven / So let's raise a little Hell!”

~ Scarabia Dorm

Kalim Al-Asim - “Though the Night” (Bliss)

“Inside, down the hall / There's a diamond mirror on every wall (be mine) / Be mine, follow me / Got a ping-pong table and a trampoline (check it out) / Check out the back garage / Got a pimped-out carriage and an entourage (take five) / Take five, decompress / In a hot Jacuzzi / With a hot princess″

Jamil Viper - “The Private and Intimate Life of the House” (Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812)

“And time moves on / And my fate slips past / Is this all I’ll make of my life? / Will I never be happy? Will I never be anyone’s wife?”

~Pomefiore Dorm

Vil Schoenheit - “The Beauty Underneath” (Love Never Dies)

“Have you ever yearned to go / Past the world you think you know? / Been enthralled to the call / Of the beauty underneath? / Have you let it draw you in / Past the place where dreams begin? / Felt the full breathless pull / Of the beauty underneath?”

Epel Felmier - “Sugar Cloud” (Ride the Cyclone)

“I see the world with all its backwards upside down / There's nothing wrong with being the nicest girl in town / Oh, everything's clear / Now that I'm here on my sugar cloud”

Rook Hunt - “The Sparkling Diamond” (Moulin Rouge!)

“Men grow cold as girls grow old / And we all lose our charms in the end / But square-cut or pear-shaped / These rocks don’t lose their shape / Diamonds are a girl’s best friend”

~ Ignihyde Dorm

Idia Shroud - “More Than Survive” (Be More Chill)

“I'm never gonna be the cool guy / I'm more the one who's left out / Of all the characters at school / I am not the one who the story's about / Why can't someone just help me out / And teach me how to thrive”

Ortho Shroud - “Why?” (Frankenstein)

“Tell me why does the breeze blow? / Why do both the flower and the weed grow? / Then tell me why do men fight wars? / Why does God even care? / Why does he listen to our prayers? / Doesn't he already know what we're praying for?”

~ Diasomnia Dorm

Malleus Draconia - “The Music of the Night” (The Phantom of the Opera)

“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams / Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before / Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar! / And you'll live as you've never lived before”

Lilia Vanrouge - “Not While I’m Around” (Sweeney Todd)

“Nothing's gonna harm you / Not while I'm around! / Nothing's gonna harm you, Toby / Not while I'm around”

Silver - “My Friends” (Sweeney Todd)

“These are my friends / See how they glisten / See this one shine / How he smiles in the light / My friend, my faithful friend”

Sebek Zigvolt - “The Room Where it Happens” (Hamilton)

“I’ve got to be (The room where it happens) / In that room (The room where it happens) / In that big ol’ room (The room where it happens) / The art of the compromise— / Hold your nose and close your eyes / We want our leaders to save the day— / But we don’t get a say in what they trade away / We dream of a brand new start / But we dream in the dark for the most part”

[razorsadness]

River Bridge

     I

Winter, stepping into the night trolley, quarter pint of scotch in pocket...No, not that one. The childhood story—Grandmother reading among her violets a poem about the elevated train slithering its worm down London’s spine. Not that one. I could tell you skeins of train stories, as now through this dense summer night, trees swarming green their canopy over the street of warm lit windows, the train slashes its path through the neighborhood, whirr and pulse, the heart and fuse of distance filling the room, hurtling through countless frames, the scenes—now that curtainless room of young men preening shirtless before their mirrors, now the ward of iron hospital beds. I’ve seen them. By the screen, the white cat swivels her ears to follow the train until it’s lost in glass smashing, the alley voices. Who’s walking tonight? Who’s hungry? The story I keep returning to is the one about walking hungry over that St. Louis railroad bridge. Why that one? Is it the bridge? Bridge linking one riverbank aflame in smokestacks, the slaughterhouses, to the bank where the city’s glittering Andromeda spilled itself before them. Bridge of flying hands and curses, iron bridge and the passage of colliers, boxcars, the gondolas freighting coal, dull sprockets, sleek carriages of lingerie and crystal. Distant, the sceptered city glints, a figment, I could begin. Or once, there was a time, the opening a fairy tale, simple, sinister.

     II

January, its savage tempers & mirthless North wind have iced the iron bridge’s spans. Between flaming riverbanks, the two walk thin as flame, a world refined to fierce purity— lungs blued to filigree, bare ankle, damp sleeve frosted beneath the other’s steadying hand. Stepping tie to tie, the river churned below its suicide babble, the nitrous drowned sopranos, sulfuric moans. Such a grand manner of entry, fareless, in stealth, the city’s lit gateway fuming like midnight’s wild schemes. Should I ask the obvious questions? Such as what was the engine driving the machine of their travel? Oh, fear, that’s familiar. Folly, leavened recklessly with hope. Lights multiply against the sky, the city’s slow Andromeda, a constellation the shape of what they seek, the streets inside of Berlined façades, people breakfasting in mid-air, walls torn down. The squatter’s palace. The rat’s domain, each moment rinsed in benzine, sharpened with amphetamine, the hunger. Alluvial voices hissing beneath them dogs of chaos, escape from the burning city, no time, no time. The river knows the story. The get-out-of-town-fast story. A dizzy trip through the ripped underside of things— that rough fugitive coinage, begged rides, begged meals. Somebody fed us. Somebody said get out of town. Those E. St. Louis backyards sooty with frozen laundry trees. Should I say the Mississippi knows the story of the room left behind, the bad deals? Like a scene playing out in a glass globe I might hold in my palm, I can watch them: oh look at those fools, the cold carving them up to some version of bewildered miracle.

     III

Deep freeze humming the rails, the entrance into the unknown city, the bus station pulsing fluorescent waves across ranks of pay TVs, a quarter a view for those laying over, for those mired in dim rooms, too long alone with themselves. You know how it is. The fact of death starts pearling large in the mind, darkening its banks of offices, ballrooms where you might touch some face you recognize, those staircases that spiral, collapse amidst the body’s mysteries, its harsh betrayals. Or love’s betrayals. Through static, the P.A. spits destinations, frayed galaxies of names—Columbus, Joplin, St. Joe, Points West, Kansas City... How does one thing part from another? Redrawing tendrils & roots, a lopped amputation that leaves this one raving in the street, the other cold, cold... alone in the room after such intensity, the way it would be, me leaving E. so crassly after the crazy journey. I think now I’ve become a character in this, must slip on the coat, these salt-wet shoes, sip the raw whiskey and in the drunken radiance the TVs spill over sleepers’ faces hear the late-night tapdancers, the anthems & jets. Then the station signal’s high bat-cry peeling away to the automated voice, Chicago, Detroit, Points North... After the parting, one from the other, there’s the long reclamation, flood plain, phantom limb. From one form to another: transit.

      IV

Oh, the anarchy of owning nothing but a constellation the shape of what they seek. The get-out-of-town-fast story. No bus fare, and where to go in this steaming plenty, the lit kitchens & parlors glimpsed from the street washed citron by lamplight. Is it the stolen car again in this version, or the abandoned movie palace? I can put them in the theater and show them making love, warm with each other & the begged bottle of scotch & they can sleep in moldering velvets. Stripped bare, sapphired in blue air, she’d be a woman served to the city’s glittering Andromeda. Like the Russian cellist broke in Berlin, the ‘20s, who’d sleep in the opera house, who one delirious night played, naked, his instrument into the shadows, the banked silent seats & rat galleries. And forgot the cold. That would be pretty wouldn’t it? But the theater’s barricaded, and so, it must be, as it always is, the stolen car. Beyond the city it will spirit them into the blizzard, the etherous drifts, until the engine stops & the road erases, trackless. And then she’ll know ice needling the blood to scarlet foliage. But, how to show the calm when she thinks, so this is what it’s like to die, a twisting bolt of black cloth dragged back through stations, the bare dusty rooms, chalk dust & sachet, the river’s voices deep nitrous green. How calm. Pocking snow on the windshield, heavy and damp as the voices of crows in her grandmother’s trees, a cry she mimicked at the back of her throat, harsh and wild. White crows now blessing her eyes. How calm.

     V

When the authorities lifted them away from there, they entered a world of steam, that fallen roadside constellation chromed with coffee urns, galaxies of white plates. Crossing the bridge back, again, the blood’s fierce arterial surge like arias, like alarming camellias scarlet with snow still frosting the ground. Heavy and warm, cups of coffee steamed in our hands, the good bitter coffee. But always, we were aware, hear still, the pulse and singing: I am the stranger coiled on the landing, singing this is the bridge of the flying hands, the mansion of the body. I am the one who scratched at your door, the one who begged rough coinage. This is the blessing & this is a hymnal of wings. Hear the heart’s greedy alluvial choir, a cascading train whirring the tracks: called back, called back from the river.

     VI

Chirring in her throat the white cat stretches on the sill, all ruffled ivory, present-tense, muscular pure. Can one possess a clear vision of oneself in the world? Dominion over all that bewildering wrack? This raised hand against the evening’s towering cream and smoke conjures a flurry of ghost hands, a crowd glimpsed blurred from the hurtling train. Clouds billow & unknot a sudden shower releasing that lavish wet asphalt perfume, the fragrance of countless showers over scores of cities, each one intensely now, now, this sweet wrenched only. From the turbulent river, moments swim unbidden to the surface, others never rise at all, the lost drowned arias, sunken avenues of camphored rooms, the walls with their watery initials. Phantom destinations, the P.A.’s St. Joe, Kansas City, Denver, points beyond the laden plains surging beneath waves of snow, blue perilous mountains, locales in the mind. The cat leaps, again a train, striking this time a smooth oiled chord, as if there might be singing on the other side of the tracks. Some Jordan. That otherness, those secret times, the bridges beneath the surface of a life. Pull on the rough coat and salt-wet shoes. Let the liquor burn your throat. Did I do that? Could that have been me? Those figures crossing the bridge, setting out, always setting out. Voices I must keep listening for in these sharpening leaves, among the stacks and flames, the smoking pillars. Someone fed them. Someone said get out of town.

—Lynda Hull, from The Only World

[corpsebasil]

Easily Replaced | Part 5

part 6

The Ocean looked like it wanted to strangle you with both hands.

"There's no other way out of Kerch?" You demanded, clinging to Jesper's arm as you walked towards the docks.

Since you were eight, you’d hated the sea. Hated the smell, the look, everything. It looked angry today, not even a day after you and the Crows had hired the Conductor, the sky murky overhead, the humidity making your hair frizz. You wrinkled your nose and gripped Jesper's arm tighter, savoring his familiar scent and warmth.

"I've got you, you know that." He told you, stunningly gray eyes winking down at your pinched face. He knew why you hated the water—what haunted your worst nightmares. He had nightmares, too. "We'll be in Ravka soon. Then we can rob a Grisha tent, or feed Kaz to a Volcra."

"We could feed Inej to a Volcra." You mumbled, and Jesper poked you roughly in the side.

"Inej is lovely. As are you." He reached over and fiddled with the Volcra tooth on your necklace, pinching it between his index finger and thumb. "Where did you get this, by the way?"

      She tugged it out of his grasp gently, the tooth sharp against your skin. Memories of a snowy wasteland north of Ravka and a woman with a cane and the temperament of a wet cat came to mind. You missed Marmee, the woman you’d lived with from the time you fled Ketterdam at eight until you were fifteen, and her strange Fjerdan ways, desperately, even now.

Even when you bore scars from the country that had pulled you out of the lowest point of your life.

"My grandmother." Was all you said, and Jesper took the hint to drop the subject.

"We'd better hurry," Kaz's voice met your ears and you shivered involuntarily, refusing to meet his eye when he passed you on the dock. "this weather is shit. We'll be lucky to get into Ravka by sundown in these conditions."

His limp was worse today than usual—it always pained him more when the weather turned cold and rainy, and he clutched his cane roughly, a scowl on his face. You knew he'd be grumpy today. He always was when he hurt.

"Maybe you can bully the ocean into calming down." You mumbled, and Kaz shot you an exasperated look.

You weren’t sure what you’d expected to change between you and Kaz as of last night, but you shouldn't have been surprised when the first words to you from him were rude. He made a face at your hair, piled hazardously on top of your head, and snorted.

"Did you battle a wildebeest?" He asked, gesturing vaguely at your head, and you didn't deem him worthy of a reply.

"Good morning." The Conductor sniffed, nodding his head at you as he approached the group on the docks.

"You're late." Kaz deadpanned in reply.

"Are you excited to cross?" Jesper asked The Conductor loudly, ignoring his friend, and the mustache-wearing man looked up from being jabbed in the bicep with a sharp nail from you as a greeting.

"It's all part of the trade. I've crossed more times than I can count." He gestured to his sleeve and smiled half-heartedly.

You reached over and snatched up his arm.

"HEY—" you squealed, and Kaz flinched. "Look at this. Look." You commanded, and held the poor man's arm out towards Kaz. On the Conductor's left forearm were quite possibly the most tallied scars Kaz had ever, in all of his eighteen years, laid eyes upon.

"I want this many tallies," you said, grinning down at the man's arm. "the Fold is so scary—how do you get across it? Have you ever fought a Volcra? I have."

"You have never fought a Volcra," Kaz commented, but everyone ignored him.

"It's a trade secret," the Conductor replied, giving you an amused look. "you'll see once we land in Ravka."

"Where's Inej?" Kaz asked, turning to Jesper, and you let out an unflattering grunt.

"We're holding up the ship." You said and pulled your arm from Jesper's, stomping your way towards the deck. Your eyes darted towards the churning water as you stepped over the gangplank to the ship, your stomach tossing in unison as you forced down haunting images that always followed the sea.

If you didn't lose your lunch before you got to Ravka, you’d lose your mind.

~

"It's not fair that I wasn't born a Sun Summoner," You pouted and crossed your arms over your chest, slouching aggressively. "Why does Alina get to win? I'd look great in a Kefta."

      The boat trip to Ravka had been brief but debilitating. You’d only seen Inej once, puking over the side of the ship, but you were still so irritated with the Suli girl for winning Kaz's favor and for cutting your face that you didn't do more than offer her a handkerchief.

Even then, the two of you stayed in tense silence around each other.

    Now that you were in West Ravka, piled into a carriage, you and Inej wouldn't stop playing The Staring Game, waiting for one another to crack under the weight of the other's stare. You were crowded against the window of the small carriage you were in, and it was burning hot.

"You look great in everything." Jesper told you, pulling your attention, and scooted closer on the bench beside you, stretching out his long legs.

      The Conductor wasn't leaving either of you much room and Kaz, across from you, wouldn't stop death-glaring you like he expected you to summon a demon onto the carriage just because you were there.

"What the hell are you looking at?" You snapped, irritated with the weight of Kaz's glare, and he rolled his eyes.

"How'd this happen?" Jesper asked, and poked your cheek with a frown on his face. He ignored his best friend when Kaz gave him a glare that implied he was committing treason. "And where'd you go off to last night? I saw you sneaking off down the street all dressed up in your murder gear."

You glared at the person you liked the most out of everyone in that carriage and poked him right back.

"None of your business," you said maturely, and glanced over at Kaz. He watched you with an inscrutable look on his face that made him look like he'd smelled something foul. "I got bit by a snake." You said, and shot daggers at Inej with your eyes.

The girl at least had the decency to look embarrassed for throwing a knife at you.

"I bet." Jesper snorted, elbowing you like you were talking about an inside joke, and Kaz cleared his throat.

"If you two are going to be annoying," he began, and rolled his cane between his fingers, "you ought to ride in the box on the back of the carriage. Some of us have more important things to do than gossip."

"Like what?" You demanded, and Inej stared at the window like she was waiting for a miracle from God.

"Like the Conductor." Kaz started, his eyes sliding to yours, and he frowned before looking to the man crammed against the window beside Jesper. "I didn't hire you simply to get us across the Fold. You're with us because you smuggle Grisha out of the Little Palace, and that's the location of our target."

"Sun Summoner." Inej corrected.

"Alleged." Kaz cut back, and Jesper snorted.

"They wouldn't keep a fraud in the most secure location in all of Ravka," Inej pointed out, and Kaz ignored her, sending a zing of satisfaction up your spine.

"You said you have a contact who can get us inside. A Heartrender." Kaz continued, and the Conductor nodded.

"Mmhmm."

"How do I know we can trust her?"

"Nina grew up there."

"Most Grisha grew up in the Little Palace. Very few would betray their general, and fewer still would help foreigners kidnap their most prized possession."

"Nina's a radical. Thinks Grisha should get to choose if they serve the Crown. She despises involuntary service more than she does Fjerdans."

"What's wrong with Fjerdans?" You scoffed, raising an eyebrow, and Kaz rolled his eyes. You thought you were going to hurt him if he rolled his eyes at you one more time.

"She's Grisha." The Conductor laughed bitterly, casting you a look. "Don't be stupid, girl." He said and despite yourself you felt embarrassed.

"Watch the way you speak to her." Kaz set a dark look onto the Conductor and the man frowned.

"My apologies." He grumbled, turning to look out the window, and you mashed your lips together to prevent a smile.

tags| @balmasedas @euphoniumpets @subjecta13-thefangirl @itisroe @thefandomplace @kaitlyn2907 @alice-the-nerd @beeposstuff @kykymyeon @emberlei @tomhollandisabae @sakuramadae @louweasleymalfoy @thehighqueenandking

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Servant and The Prince | Two

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki, chapter two

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC

Warnings: LMAO kinda smut? No- I don’t know how I managed to do this in the second chapter but I did and I don’t care, they’re soulmates, sue me- it is not graphic and it is important for the plot I swear 

Tags: Fluff, again kinda smut but in the least graphic way, a touch of angst near the end

Word count: 5.2k (why can’t I write essays this fast?)

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Master List

The ride to the capitol takes three gruelling days. Each night is spent at a different tavern. It is the same story each time; Estrid and Anna spend the night in a lavish bed and Y/n is left with the horses, curled under her thankfully baggy cloak. It is neither warm nor comfortable, sleeping on the bench seat of the carriage. She never really falls asleep, she only dozes in and out of consciousness. It is almost always interrupted by footsteps or the murmurs of animals or her own mostly empty stomach growling into the night. That one is twofold- usually her stomach is in so much nauseating pain that she cannot sleep but, on the off occasion she can, she is then awoken by the loud roars it makes.

When she does sleep her dreams are plagued by nightmares of drowning in water that tastes of salt. It is always the same, her body sinking slowly to the bottom of what she can only assume is the sea, her lung filling with more and more of the saline water. She has never been to the sea but she has heard stories. She always wanted to go but now she is not so sure.

Each morning she wakes at the crack of dawn, sneaking out of the carriage like a mouse scampering away from the booming footsteps of a prowling cat. Of course she is not allowed to be sleeping in the carriage but it is a liability she must take. She would much rather be punished by Estrid than found by a drunken stable boy. Who would have thought she would miss her simple bed so much. It is just a worn mattress and the last of her mother’s quilts but she longs for it more than anything. She longs for a lot of things in the passing days.

With everyday that passes the anger grows stronger too. She has never been a restless girl but in less than three days it feels like everything she thought she was is wrong. Even while sitting still she feels as though she is pacing in a room that she is completely unfamiliar with. Granted it could be the rocking of the carriage- three days is a long time to be shaken up so- but still it feels different. When she squeezes her eyes closed hard enough she can see those differences. A bed with emerald sheets and a desk pushed against a window. And a man. A tall man who is shrouded in darkness. No matter how hard she squeezes her eyes she cannot make out his features.

She can see what he does sometimes though. He likes to sit at the desk and let the sunlight pour over him. That is the only time she does not feel the overwhelming anger, like daggers, slicing down the insides of her throat. She feels peace in those moments- almost like she is with him, her skin absorbing the sunshine as well. If only it was sunny during the night then maybe she could get a proper night's sleep.

The sunshine is not the only time she feels him, though. It is the best but not all. She can also feel when he digs his fingers through his hair, pulling so hard on the invisible strands that her scalp begins aching as well. She can feel it when he throws his head back, the soundless roar bubbling in her throat. His voice is a mystery to her. Somewhere deep inside her she knows what he sounds like, she just cannot describe it. It is there though, ingrained into parts of her that she also cannot describe. In those moments, if she could scream and know that her voice would sound exactly like his she would do it, if only to truly remember. That is what it feels like- forgetting. She is forgetting something gravely important.

Or she is just losing her everloving mind.

She cannot explain it, whatever it is; all she knows is that she does not understand. The anger is hers but not. The pacing and hair tugging are hers but not. The twinge of familiarity in everything that she sees in her mind. It is all both her own and not hers at all and it is infuriating. What is even more infuriating is to be so angry without reason. If she is to be angry all the time then at least she should know why. She would chalk it up to her situation- there is more than enough in her life to be angry about- but she had never really been angry before. Achingly desperate and mournful, yes. But angry? Before these past few days she never really understood the word.

The anger, then, must be his. But, if it is his, why then is it also hers? This time it is her who slams her hands against her head, digging in desperately. Why does none of it make any sense at all? She squeezes her eyes shut, so hard she sees that little spark of white that must mean her eyes are not supposed to be used so carelessly. She pushes past it- right now it does not matter. She is on a mission to find something out- to find anything out.

Only seconds later does the blackness behind her eyelids shift and she is no longer on the back of the carriage but rather back in his bedroom. The sunlight is pouring in through the window again and she sighs. Thank Odin. The last of her remaining senses that anchor her to the real world fizzle away as she scampers towards the desk where a figure cloaked in all black sits in a wooden chair. One of his shadowy hands is propped up on the desk, his fingers twisting through the rays. For a moment it feels like he is beckoning her to him, curling his fingers like an invitation meant only for her.

Of course she goes to him.

She barely registers the feeling of her feet hitting the stone below her- probably because she is not actually in the room walking towards him. That does not stop her from pretending like she is, gliding to meet him in the sunshine. She stands next to him for a moment, her heart galloping steadily. For once it is not from fear; there is nothing about him that she is afraid of. She wants nothing more than to climb onto his lap and let her body soak in the sunshine as well. It is not fear that makes her heart pound; it is anticipation. It is the looming sadness. She will try to climb into the sunshine- just as she has tried for each of the two days prior- and she will feel nothing. She never feels the warmth of the sun or the warmth of his darkened body. Still, she will try- it is all she can do to try.

She takes a deep breath, the faintest- almost nonexistent- aroma of pine trees and salt tickling her nose. The carriage must be close to the sea. She tosses the thought aside, bracing her hands on the side of the desk. Her fingers land how they are supposed to, splayed against the top, but she cannot feel the smooth plains of the mahogany. Her fingers stop with resistance but it is not tangible. Like every day before, she lifts herself up, placing her knees on either side of his dark lap. She braces for the same easy resistance of air to keep her hovering steadily above him. It will feel almost like nothingness- like only the memory of him is there instead of a real man. It is blissful, like coming home, and devastating, like being barred from entering said home, all at the same time.

She holds herself for a moment longer, not quite ready to feel nothing at all, and that is when it happens- his shadowy face snaps up and she can make out the faintest hint of icy blue in his otherwise misty eyes. She gasps, her heart beating even faster. Can he see her? Can he feel her? It is as though his eyes are boring into hers through her little daydream. It feels so real- like he is actually there and not just a figment of her imagination.

Her hands slip from the edge of the table, her knees jolting against the wooden chair almost painfully. There is a dull thud as she sinks down. That has not happened before. She snaps her gaze down to her legs, her mouth falling open at the sensation of her thighs spreading and pressing against leather. Yes, not the air that she has grown so used to but buttery leather and two warm legs that are covered by the folds of her dress. She could moan from how delicious it feels against her skin- both the supple leather and the feeling of finally being allowed back into her home- but of course she does not. Both because she does not want to risk the man hearing her wanton breaths and because he beats her to it.

Shadowy hands curl over her simple dress, fingers squeezing against her hips. She pulls her gaze back to the man's face, stifling another moan when he does again, almost as if testing the newness of being able to feel her. She supposes that is the answer she is looking for- he can definitely feel her. She watches as his lips- still shrouded in darkness like the rest of him- move frantically. No words form, not even hisses of air. She cannot hear anything he is saying. She can only feel him and his hands as he pulls her higher onto his lap, spreading her thighs even further until she is pressed harder into him. Her body molds into his with each shift, matching each dip and curve with her own, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.

His mouth keeps moving, his faint icy eyes flicking across her face. Can he see her or does she appear like he does to her- a black mass of nothingness? She tests it the extent of her presence, placing her hands on his chest. Her heart is in her throat as her fingers smooth against the same supple leather, feeling the warm plains of armour and the way his chest heaves when she presses harder. His face tilts down, towards where she touches him, before snapping up to gaze at her. Again he tries to speak, his hands crawling up her back. His touch is heavenly- blissfully gentle against her injured spine- and she sinks back into him. She may as well soak in her daydream to its full extent.

She slides her fingers up to cup his cheeks. She cannot cannot make out the color of his skin but she can feel the heat rolling off him. His stubble bites at her palms, scratching her softly. She giggles, running her forefingers over it, exploring the contours of his face. Her thumbs drag over his cheekbones and he says something again, turning his face into her palm. His lips move against her skin and she wishes more than anything she could hear him. She wants to hear everything he is saying.

She draws his eyes back to hers, shaking her head slightly. He stops talking, his head cocking to the side. She cannot see it but she is almost certain his brows knit together. She is also certain that this man is beautiful, despite having only seen his eyes. If only her imagination were strong enough to fill in the blanks. Perhaps she is damaged- why else would she not be able to fill in a man of her making? His mouth opens again.

Y/n taps two fingers to her mouth and then to her ears, shaking her head. “I cannot hear you.”

She doubts that he will be able to hear her as well but she tries anyway. Her voice comes out soft, jarring against the silence. It is quieter here that she realizes. As expected, his eyes fill with confusion, narrowing slightly. One of his hands moves from her back and she swallows a whines at the rush of cool air that meets the place he had been holding her, immediately longing for the lost contact. Her bottom lip puckers out without her consent. Perhaps he notices, his gaze dropping low. Perhaps his eyes fall past her lips as well, though.

His other arm, the one still around her waist, tightens, sliding until his fingers curl around her opposing hip. Her knees slide even further forward with his actions, knocking into the back of the chair as her chest bumps into his. She shoots her hands out again, grasping onto his sturdy shoulders to keep from toppling off his lap, her thighs squeezing harder around him. Her skin drinks in the buttery material once more and this time she cannot stop the moan from rolling off her tongue, pleasure spiking up her spine. It is like nothing she has never felt before; a bolt of lightning striking right between her legs where her body nestles into his. It zaps her from the inside out, the most blissful heat pooling in the pit of her belly. Gods, the things she would do to hang on to that feeling forever.

He freezes under her, his shadowy arm around her hips stilling. Their faces are inches apart and it is as though she can almost feel his breaths against her lips. That is impossible but still the strange memory of his breath tickles, her mind filling in the blanks with what she assumes it would feel like. She can just barely taste the peppermint, somehow sharp through her dream.

Her hands squeeze harder against his shoulders as she sinks further onto him, her soft body molding again to fit against his hard one. The feeling repeats itself as she does- that wonderful bolt of pleasure- and her eyes flutter closed for a moment, her head falling back. Her mouth draws open as she clings to the growing heat between her legs. She has no idea why it is building or what will happen when it finally overflows but she is more than willing to find out.

His hand finally skims across her cheek, his fingers dipping behind her neck and curling, locking her in place against him. His hand is just as warm as the rest of him, adding a certain heaviness to her eyelids, one that she had been missing for days. He nudges her face gently and she pushes past the sleep and pleasure to meet his stare. He does not speak this time; he must have learned that it would not work. Instead he squeezes her hip, his icy eyes glancing down to where her legs are wrapped around him, before boring back into hers. He shifts again, pressing up and against her, sparking another round of that marvellous lightning in her belly, this time even stronger.

Her veins fill with fire and for a moment she can feel the sunshine on her back and hear the creaking of the chair underneath them as if she were actually in the room with him and not just locked in her own imagination. It does not last long, her newly unlocked senses, and as he relaxes back into his seat the fire in her blood mingles with desperation. She slides her fingers up his neck, tangling them in his soft hair. There is no hint of color, only the same shadows. She needs to see more- feel more.

“Please,” she draws his face up towards her, furiously pulling his darkened body towards hers. The contrast of her skin against his shadowed cheeks increases her drive- she has to see him. “Please do it again. I need more.”

It is futile, her little cries. She knows they will fall soundless on his ears. She can only hope that her actions, choked and frantic as she clings to him, can convey everything her lips cannot. He stares down, his crystal eyes locked on hers, his lips pressed together. His stillness makes her heart hammer rapidly against her ribcage. Please, by Odin, understand; I need you.

She pulls him even closer to her, falling until her back hits the edge of the desk and she is caged between it and him, still perched on his lap. Her dress bunches around her hips, her bare legs secured around his waist and squeezing him to her. Still he does not move, his eyes dragging down until his head is bowed between them, gaze locked on where their hips meet. His hand around her neck tightens, his eyes snapping back to hers, the blue visibly more brilliant. Glowing. He raises a shadowy brow, nodding slowly. Yes you oaf, yes! She would have screamed at him if she knew it would not be pointless. Instead she nods back at him, tugging gently on his hair. When he still does not move she finally snaps.

She springs forward, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her face pressed against the crook of his neck. She really has no clue what she is doing- at this point she only knows one thing; she wants to be here with him and will do whatever she has to in order to make it happen. She gently runs her nose along the side of his neck, soaking in his warmth, her fingers twisting once more in his silky hair. His chest heaves against hers again and she smiles. That must mean something good, right?

She starts slow, her lips barely glimpsing his skin, testing his reactions to her.

She presses a soft kiss below his jaw.

He wraps his other hand back around her hip.

She brushes her lips lower, harder, kissing his throat.

He squeezes her softly, rolling his head back and revealing more of his neck to her.

She sucks some of his skin into her mouth, letting it go with a pop that sounds as though it echoes through an actual room and not just through her mind.

He pulls her flush against his chest with a groan that just barely grazes her ears, sparking the jagged pieces of her memory to fill in his luscious voice.

She tugs his earlobe into her mouth, biting down a little less gently.

He stands with her still wrapped around him and presses her back against a now fully formed tabletop.

She gasps again, not expecting the vast switch but not angry about it either. In fact this is the first time she is not unreasonably angry and she wishes she could hold onto this feeling. This happiness. She giggles up at him as her skirt pools higher around her hips, her body no longer upright and squished between the desk and him. One of his dark arms lands next to her, sliding under her head. The other hand slips under her skirt, his rough fingers a delicious contrast against her smooth skin. He presses down, his thumb circling her hip bone softly, holding her against him. She sinks her head back into his hand, unable to tear the smile from her lips. This must be what home feels like.

She squeezes her thighs, connecting their bodies. He rolls his hip against her, finally giving her the pressure she has been craving, and the building inferno inside her roars back to life. She arches her back off the desk, trying to get even closer to him, and he leans down to meet her, pressing his stomach against hers. He bucks against her again and she can taste the peppermint for real this time- the salt and the pine so sharp that there is no way she can be imagining it.

The lightning spikes through her each time he juts against her. It crackles through her nervous system, flashing in her eyes. With every spark the colors around her become more vibrant, her senses overflowing. She catches glimpses of the emerald bed behind him and some jade strips of leather in his armour. She can hear the steady rocking of the desk, the scraping of the leather against her thighs. Her little sighs are clear, she no longer has to wonder if they are only in her head. She still cannot hear him but she can see the pink in his lips as they form around his words. They look soft and capable and it is all she can do to roll her head back into his hand and pray that he understands the invitation.

He does.

Unlike her he does not start slow. He leans down immediately, pulling her skin into his mouth feverishly and biting down. Her eyes slam shut as he does so, one of her hands falling to the arm anchored beside her. She curls his fingers around his bicep, forcing herself to remain still in the face of one of the most intense experiences she has ever had. She did not know that a mans lips on her skin could feel this way. The sensation is completely foreign- otherworldly. So is the moan that carves its way out of her throat, filling the space between them. It is loud and aching- much like the rest of her- and it rewards her with something that she is not expecting in the slightest. A laugh.

His laugh.

She pushes herself up as soon as the small sound falls against her ears, musical and elegant, her eyes peeling open to the sight of sharp green leather and raven black hair. His skin is still cloaked in the darkness, his hands two shadowy masses as they snake to her thighs, but she relishes in the details that her mind grants her. Her mother’s words ring through her ears. You are so powerful, little dove. That is exactly how she feels right now; powerful. She will pull him through the darkness, little by little, until she can hear the air in his lungs and see the blush in his face. She will do it if it is the last thing she ever does.

He goes to pull away from her, his face dropping and hands releasing. His icy eyes a tinged with worry. As he takes a step back the color in his lips begins to fade, the pink dulling to a soft grey. No! She uses her legs to drag him back against her, hard enough to make him slam his hands onto the desk next to her hips. The sound thunders through the room and she smiles, the whoosh of air that accompanies his movements like a warm summer breeze chasing away the cold spring. The fire in her belly drinks it in, layering it on top of the lightning like a blanket. She wraps her arms around his shoulders again, clinging to him completely.

“Stay please.” She holds his gaze as she pleads with him, every word making the blue in his eyes brighten even more. “Please-” She does not know what to call him, he has no name that she can recall. Only one word sparks in her mind- an old word she used to hear her mother use occasionally- “Surtr.”

Dark one.

His back straightens as the word slips from her tongue, pulling her up with him until he is standing. It is like something inside him snaps- much like it had earlier in her- and he presses her against the stone wall, using his hips to hold her in place as he all but rips the straps off her arms. His mouth finds her skin again, feathering kisses down her shoulders and over the tops of her breasts where they spill out of her loosened dress.

She digs her heels into his back, encouraging him to press harder against her. He obliges, sparking the fire once more. This time, when the lightning strikes she can taste the smoke in her throat. She is so close to overflowing; right there on the edge. The smell of pine trees is overwhelming now- like she is in a forest surrounded by them. The salt is almost as strong. She licks her lips, drinking in as much of it as she can as she meets his thrusts. The only thing she can think is that the feel of the leather between her thighs is her new favourite thing.

“You are the one who must stay.”

His voice is like honey, dripping slowly down her skin. It is utter perfection; sweet and low. Everything she had been imagining and so much more. He lifts his face, now only thinly veiled by the shadows. She can see bits of his skin, flushed but rosy, peaking through. His raven hair falls forward, tickling her cheeks and nose. She drags her fingers through it again, pushing it away from his face. Something inside her roars to life at the sight- at the sounds. His groans and the hitch in his chest and the little slap he gives her thigh that makes her giggle again. All of it combines with the final jut of his hips against hers and then next thing she knows she is falling, like a star from the sky, spiraling straight into the sweetest oblivion anyone has ever known.

The pleasure that fills her body is like nothing she could have ever imagined. That is how she knows it is real. She is not creative enough to manufacture the desperate sounds he makes against her skin nor the feeling of them both sinking slowly down the wall into a pile of woozy limbs and panting breaths. She does not influence the way he curls around her, shielding her as she muffles her screams into his chest- no dream could feel as strong and soft as his arms as he glues their shaking bodies together. No; this is real.

He is real.

But for how long?

“How do I stay?” She intwines her body with his, wrapping around him once more as the pleasure begins to wane. “Please tell me.”

Even as she speaks she can hear her voice fading, losing the sharp edge it had moments ago. The warmth of his body begins to lessen as well, even as she fights to bring herself as close to him as she can. She pulls her face out of his neck, meeting only the faintest of blue in his eyes this time. They dart over her face, his hands fisting in her dress, tugging her closer too. He is fighting as well. She opens her mouth again but no sound comes out, only a hiss of air as she tries to scream. Do not leave me! Tears pour down her cheeks and for once she does not try to stop them. For once there are more important things.

The room around her begins to blur, hazing in and out of focus. Her fingers slip against his hair, no longer able to hold onto him as he, too, fades. That does not stop her from trying to dig her way through the darkness to get him back. Even as the room begins spinning she keeps clawing at his body, searching for anything that she can latch onto. Any little bit of him that she has left. Her fingers catch on something cold and she wraps her fingers around it, saving it from the disintegrating world. She squeezes her eyes shut when everything blurs so fast that bile rises in her throat, the nausea being too much.

“I will find you.” It is the last she hears of his honey voice and, like everything else, she holds onto it, hoping it will be enough to permanently sear him into her memory.

When Y/n cracks her eyes open she is no longer in the room- she is on the back of Estrid’s carriage. She is shaking still, the last dregs of pleasure- the last reminder that it was real- fizzling out and mingling with the motion sickness. The rocking of the carriage does nothing to stave it, she has to rest her head against the metal to keep from wobbling off.

She blinks a few times, clearing the haze from her bones and the blinding light from her return to reality. When she does, she is almost as breathless as she was moments ago. Instead of the usual meadows that she has gotten used to seeing in the last few days, she is greeted with glittering golden towers. They rise all around her, reaching towards the sky like flowers reach for the sun. She has to hold her breath as she her eyes trace up their iridescent stems, dizzy at the mere thought of being at the very top. She has never been that high before. Well, besides this today. That can only mean one thing- she is in the capitol!

She cranes her neck, trying to absorb as much as it as she can. All around her are other carriages. For miles it had been only Estrid’s but now there are dozens, each one just as ornately decorated. Even more so. They are drawn by white stallions that huff at her when they pass, their muzzles ruffling like they have never smelt a servant before. She does not blame their caution- by the looks of things they are probably used to the finer things. She is quite the opposite. If she was a horse perhaps she would huff at herself as well.

The streets are immaculately decorated for the upcoming festivities. The pillars that line the streets are strung with scarlet and jade banners, the railings roped with gold silks. There are little stands selling candied fruits and chocolate. Along the festive streets people mingle in and out of the towers, dressed in fabric more colorful than she has ever seen before. It is the same golds and scarlets and jades that make up the decorations. It looks velvety and luxurious to the touch- perhaps almost as soft as his hair had felt in her hands.

She squeezes her fist at the thought, something hard biting into her palm. Her heart stops. The slight pain draws her focus away from the crowds- most of which she has noticed are comprised mainly of young women. It is incredible how many girls are trying their luck the same way Anna is. That is a thought for another time though, one when she is not preoccupied by magical phenomenon. She glances down at her palm. There is no way. She peels her fingers open slowly- anticipating the let down. She must be dreaming this- she must have dreamt it all.

But no, there it is, a little gold band with a deep set green emerald sitting atop her palm like a little reminder. Like a plea. It sparkles in the brilliant sun, warming on her skin. It calls to her in a voice so honeyed she flinches.

Come find me.

She peers back up at the towering city, her heart clenching. She wants to more than anything and she will do it- she knows she will. There is only one problem.

Where does she even begin to search?

[jenomark]

Part 5: YangYang, The Rich, Little Asshole

➔Pairing:  YangYang x Reader (Female) | Hendery x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Kun ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: vaginal penetration, fingering, angst ➔Word count: 5,436

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

  Kun leaned against his car and folded his arms against his chest. The wind was picking up, so you pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands and hunched over. No matter what, you wouldn’t wait in his car, like he asked. All Kun wanted was to grill you about who was on the other end of the phone call. 

“You can go home.” you said. “ I don’t need you to wait with me.”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he said. “But, it’s cold, so we should wait inside your place.”

“No.” you said, knowing that if you waited inside, Kun would try and worm his way back into your good graces, and you would let him.

Kun sighed. “I don’t...know how to fix this.”

  You turned away from him. Any direction that wasn’t Kun’s direction was good enough. You could still feel the clutches of alcohol around your mind, squeezing until it was pulp. You started moving your feet around to keep warm from the chilly night air, but there was an iciness to you that wouldn’t melt. For the most part, ignoring Kun felt good. You liked seeing him waiting on you, maybe a little jealousy creasing the lines on his face. 

 To pass the time, you took out your phone and looked at your messages and emails. A little voice in your brain told you to delete them all. No one would know or care. You could start over tomorrow and regain control of yourself. You could come clean to Lucas, break things off with Kun, give Hendery the apology you know he deserved, and tell men like Ten and Xiaojun that they deserved far better than the likes of you.

 You looked at the plethora of messages from another possible future client you were ignoring. He had been pushing to meet you for weeks. Every message title was the same kind of vibrant greeting, followed by the usual “I don’t usually do this…” You closed your phone and wished you were also the type of person that didn’t do this. What you did, you also didn’t know how to fix.

 You looked at Kun. He wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were on the windows to your place, his face pondering questions you knew you would never answer. 

“I’m moving,” you said. “I’m moving in with Lucas. In a few weeks, you won’t know me anymore.”

Without fully registering what you had said, Kun touched his hand to his heart. “I think I’ll always know you.”

You thought about taking off your shoe and throwing it at him, but violence was never the answer. “You never intended for us to be together, did you?”

Kun shifted from one foot, to the other. “It’s complicated.” 

You shook your head. “I really thought you would, you know? Leave her. Not leave your kids. I knew you weren’t that type of man, and I’d never want you to be. But, Kun, imagining a life with you was too easy. It was too fun, too distracting, too much of a fairy tale.” 

“My feelings were real.” he said. “I’ve meant everything I’ve said up until this point.”

“Were real?”

“Are real.” he corrected himself. “But you won’t let me in. If I knew you were like this, I would have broken it off a long time ago.”

Again, you shook your head. “You have no idea what you want.”

Kun opened his mouth to speak. You didn’t hear what he said, just watched the way his lips told lie after lie.

  Of course he believes he knows what he wants, you thought. He has the right job, the big house, the pretty wife. He’s a father, a friend, and a good son. He’s handsome and good at sex. He knows all the right things to say.

  You stayed silent until a car pulled up. The car was black, not unlike the one that Ten sent your way, and all the ones before and after it. The only difference was the boy hanging out of the window, his arms raised above his head, and his hair flying in the wind.

“Good evening.” he said, his slight German accent making your body perk up. “Your ride is here.”

  YangYang. 20. Self-professed rich, little asshole. Daddy’s money, but not enough of daddy’s love, YangYang liked to dip his fingers into many honey pots. In the beginning, you weren’t sure you could keep up with him sexually, but as it turned out, you could. You and YangYang were purely sex and company, nothing more and nothing less. It was the most straightforward sexual partnership you had.

  Kun looked at the sleek, black car and scowled. He was so sheltered away from your real life, that it was his first taste of the person you were with other men. Judging by his face, he was angry with you, but more angry at himself for being angry in the first place. The wheel of lies would never end, for him or for you.

“Isn’t he a child?” Kun asked, loudly enough for YangYang to hear him over the car's engine.

“Me?” YangYang said, looking mock-offended. “A child? Mind your manners, old man.”

  The car came to a smooth stop and YangYang got out. He was wearing pajamas and a robe. He knew how ridiculous he looked, but he didn’t care. He was what he was. You looked down at the slippers on his feet and smiled. The smile stopped as soon as Kun spoke again, and YangYang noticed your reaction.

“Old man?” Kun asked. “I’m not o-”

“-Is everything okay?” YangYang asked you, not sparing a second look at Kun.

 You nodded. The best thing about YangYang was that he never asked too many questions. If you said you were alright, you were alright. He motioned to the car door hanging open and said, “Your carriage awaits.”

  As soon as you made a start to leave, Kun came from around his car. He sunk down to his knees on the asphalt in front of you. You looked down at him, everything in you wanting so badly to take him into your arms, to forgive him for the night, take him up to your apartment and fall asleep against his body.  It was until you looked at how uninterested YangYang was in Kun that you were faced�� with reality.

“Don’t walk out of my life like this,” Kun said. “I’m here begging you, on my knees, on this street in front of everyone. Give me another chance. We can make it more than just sex, I promise.”

“You have a baby on the way.” you said.

YangYang’s eyes widened. “That’s fucked up, bro.”

“Goodbye, Kun.” you said.

  You got in the car and stared straight ahead, not daring to catch Kun’s eyes . YangYang slid in next to you. He didn’t put his hand on your knee. He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t ask you what was going on in your life, or if you were okay. It was something you really liked about YangYang: how little he cared about what went on in other people’s lives. He was the right person to call.

  The only thing YangYang asked about Kun was if he was also a rich asshole and you replied, that no, Kun was just an asshole.

“To my place?” YangYang asked.

“Yes, to your place.”

     YangYang lived by himself in a penthouse apartment with two floors and a view that normally would take your breath away had your heart not been shattered into splintered pieces. A fun, colorful slide ran from the upstairs to the downstairs. There was graffiti art on the walls, splotches of neon colors on formally stark, white walls as a result of YangYang’s boredom. His style of decor was haphazard and typical of a twenty year old boy, in that none of it made any sense. He kept his fridges stocked with energy drinks, and his pantry stocked with more snacks than you had in all of your places combined. It was a much different vibe from all of the other rich men you entertained. Stepping inside of his penthouse made you feel like a child again. There was magic in every corner, but sadly, you felt none of it.

“You know I don’t pry,” YangYang began. “But you look really sad, like a sad dog.”

“Sorry.”

“Can I help with anything?”

You inhaled. You held your breath. When you exhaled, YangYang had moved on from the conversation. You set your phone on his coffee table next to a set of legos. YangYang walked upstairs to where his bedroom was. Through the glass partition, you could still see him. He removed his robe and ruffled his own hair. You turned to look down as a long-haired cat brushed against your leg.

“Hey little man,” you said. “Have you missed me?”

  You and YangYang didn’t meet up that frequently. He was always horny, but he had a large amount of people he went to, so that every need was met. You didn’t know what other things he was into, but his times with you were relatively vanilla.

 The cat meowed at the same time you heard YangYang barreling down his slide. You met him at the end, a playful smile on your lips.

“I really appreciate you coming to get me,” you began. “I know we weren’t scheduled this month.”

“No problem,” he said. “I could use the company. Things can get a little lonely way up in the sky.”

  You never asked why YangYang didn’t have a steady girlfriend. He was cute in a really sweet, younger brother way. You never saw him as a brother figure because that would be pretty gross, but there was something about YangYang that made you very fond and protective of him. 

“Anyway, “ he said. “I can tell you want to get some sleep. I’ll leave you be. You know where my guest room is”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Early. Tons of breakfast. Me and you. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

“Yeah, it does.” you said, meaning it. 

  Even though you knew his place like the back of your hand, YangYang walked you to the guest bedroom. You and him had fucked in there only once before, but it was always offered to you as a place to get away for awhile. The only reason you never had sex in there much was because the room itself was so plain and formal. You figured the lack of life made YangYang uncomfortable to be in for long periods of time. Beyond the double doors and the slide, and all of these grandiose things he grew up  around, he wasn’t a little, rich asshole. He wasn’t a playboy. He was just Liu YangYang, a lonely boy living in a lonely life.

  You didn’t want to shed any more tears for Kun, or spare another thought about him. Before you went to sleep, you cried by yourself as a way to let go. You tucked your knees to your chest and you let all of the feelings pour out of you, your tears soaking into freshly cleaned sheets. You tossed and turned until the early morning, your night demons coming to haunt you. When you woke, you didn’t feel rejuvenated like you wanted, and Kun was still infiltrating the spaces in your mind you kept for yourself.

 You sat up with a start, too disoriented to understand where you were, at first. Your head was pounding. It might have been normal to sulk in bed for a little while, but you got up and went to the on-suite bathroom to wash up. You pulled your sweatshirt and shirt off until you were in your bra, splashed water on your face, and gave yourself a good look.

“I think you look pretty.”

  You jumped. YangYang was standing in the doorway. He had a fresh pile of clothes in his hands, as if he knew what you were up and doing. 

“I didn’t mean to be a creep.” he said. “There are cameras everywhere, and I thought I might come and see if you needed these.”

  You took the clothes from him and looked at yourself in the mirror after he walked out. He was flattering you. Your make-up and hair were a mess. Your eyes were puffy. You looked like you had been ridden hard and put away wet. 

“I hate this.” you said

  You looked at the clothes YangYang brought: a pair of jeans that looked like they might fit you, one of his t-shirts and a hoodie. Quickly, you put the clothes on, put up your hair using an elastic, and wiped away left behind mascara that was clinging to your lower lashes. You brushed your teeth with your fingers and some toothpaste, and went downstairs. You didn’t use the slide.

   Downstairs, YangYang was leaning against his kitchen counter in a pink apron. The dining room table was full of food that he didn’t cook, pastries of every color and shape, a plate of rolled eggs stacked high, and many more things to satisfy his sweet tooth. You knew he didn’t make any of the food, but seeing him act like he was the chef tickled you.

“A feast fit for a queen.” he said. 

  You sat at the table. You weren’t feeling hungry, and you certainly didn’t feel like a queen. You looked at the food. It was such a wasteful array of things you and him would barely touch, and it made you sad. Your mind was starting to wander as you looked over everything, your eyes beginning to glaze over and replay memories behind them. 

“Ah, that’s never good,” he said. “I know that look. Can I try getting your mind off of him? I could go back and fight him. He looked weak.”

You looked his way. “I wish it were that easy.”

  YangYang was the type of boy who would wear absolutely nothing underneath his apron. He would lead you into the kitchen, put you on top of his counter and take your hand to brush it against the imprint of his cock. Marathon sex would ensue, and some time later, when your limbs were tangled in his, you would let him take you again. But the person before you tore off his apron and was perfectly dressed underneath. He looked tired, like he was dealing with his own personal issues. YangYang came and sat beside you, all the sympathy in the world, and none of the pity in his eyes. 

“We can do whatever you want.” YangYang said. “I could take you for a day out on the town. We could go to an arcade and play claw machines until I’m out of pocket change. I’ll win you a stuffed bear and link my arm with yours, grease from french fries on our fingertips. We could stuff our faces here and pass out on my couch, you with the fuzzy blanket you like, and me with the remote control on my belly. We could pretend to be strangers that just met on the train. I’d sit next to you and tell you about my life. We could be anybody but us for today.”

“Honestly, all of that sounds good.” you said. “Being anyone else but me. ”

YangYang smiled, leaned in and whispered, “ You and me both, but, I quite like you how you are.”

“You might be the only one.”

“I doubt it.”

  YangYang covered his hand over yours. You felt grateful for all the people in your life who tried to make things easier for you. Those people were never forgotten by you. Amongst all of the bad choices you made on your part, there was always someone who was ready to see the best in you. You could see it in YangYang’s eyes, the way he didn’t see some poor girl in love with a married man. He didn’t see the person who had sex for money, or the one cheating and keeping secrets from her boyfriend. He saw you as what you were, and the beauty of what you could be.

“Do I have to choose right now?” you asked.

YangYang pursed his lips. “No. We could just sit here until our asses go numb.”

You laughed. “Okay.”

“We could talk.” YangYang offered. “I know you and I aren’t talkative, but the option is there. I kind of need a friend right now.”

  Making friends in the industry was one of the reasons why you still kept the job, even though you were mostly unhappy. In your loneliness, and in your ugliness, there were still people who wanted to be around you. They wanted your company. They needed your company. They smiled when you came around, and it was genuine, and infectious. On a deeper level, you suspected you were masking all of your real issues by seeing men, by being their fantasy, but you weren’t willing to dive into it too much. 

 So, as a friend to YangYang, you listened to what he had to say. You placed your head on your hands and watched him speak, his youth disappearing with every word. Not once were you lost in your own problems. Not once did you think of Kun, or Lucas, or Hendery. 

“I don’t mean to unload all of my stuff on you,” YangYang said, leaning back in his chair. You noted how much younger he looked when he was done speaking, how much weight was lifted from his shoulders. “It feels good getting it out. That much is true.”

“Good.” you said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give more advice.”

YangYang scrunched his nose. “I don’t think I need it. Just needed someone to listen to me rant.”

  You lifted your head from your hands and looked out at the view from his penthouse windows. You wanted to tell YangYang that you needed him, too, but you didn’t. You felt scared, like your own vulnerability would show itself once YangYang showed his. You shifted in your chair and didn’t look at him again until he called your name.

“You’re too good for him.” he said. “You’re too good for all of them.”

“Mmm, if only that were the truth.”

  You felt the itch as soon as he started speaking. You would rather scratch it with sex to shut YangYang up, to keep him from going further. That’s how your life always worked. You used your body to forget, to shut up the world for one second. You fucked to forgive yourself. It took all you had not to reach out and start something with YangYang that you weren’t feeling, just because you could.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” YangYang asked.

 Expecting the worst, you fought hard to keep the surprise from your face. YangYang saw and laughed, his smile beaming. You found yourself smiling, too, wondering if his line of questioning was normal, because you were already grown up. You thought about the slide and the way he lived his life, and wondered if he still thought he hadn’t. 

“Entertain me.” YangYang said. “An honest answer. Don’t even think about it. If you could be anything right now, right here, what would it be? Money doesn’t matter. Time doesn’t matter. It’s just you and doing something you love.”

“I don’t know.” you said.

“That’s not an answer.”

“But I genuinely don’t know.” you said.

  It was true. Your mind drew a blank. For as long as you could remember, passions were really hard to come by. You weren’t interested in much when you were young. You didn’t have hobbies. You didn’t yearn to go places, or to learn new things. Suddenly, you felt the void in front of you, and it felt cold and empty.

“What about you?” you asked. “What do you want to be?”

  YangYang got up from his chair and walked over to the windows. He gestured out at everything, at the city that curled up at his feet like his cat. You got up and joined him, your eyes penetrating the streets below. He stood behind you and touched your arms. You could feel his breath on your neck. He was hesitant in moving your hair, but he brushed it aside and laid the sweetest kiss on your skin. It was a tender moment that almost made you cry.

“I just want to be kind, I think.” he said softly in your ear. “I want to make a difference. I want to be happy and fulfilled. I think that’s all. I think that’s all there is.”

  YangYang kissed your neck again. You leaned back into his body and watched a bird fly by, soaring through the sky, completely unafraid.  You focused on your own breathing, on the silence that felt too thick with the past.

“Do you ever just want to quit the life you have and run away?” you asked.

“All the time.”

“Would you ever do it?”

“Maybe,” YangYang said. “I’m not sure if anyone would miss me.”

You turned around to face him. “ I would miss you.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” he said. “Someone would miss me, so I would never do it. Keep myself here forever, perhaps until I’m too old. If you want to run away, I’m not sure it’s always a bad thing. Sometimes you just have to go and see what is out there for yourself. Sometimes you can’t worry about whether someone will miss you or not.”

“You are full of the philosophical today, YangYang.” you said.

“I always am.” he said. “We just never stop fucking long enough to listen.”

You smiled. “I mean, we could still fuck, if you want.”

  He thought about it. Watching him think about it meant the world to you. But there was something about the way it felt with you both standing there that was anything but sexy. The time for fucking had passed, and you could feel the future hurtling towards you. 

YangYang shrugged. “Sometimes you need a good fuck, and sometimes you just need a good hug. Both are good.”

  With that, he held out his arms. You took a step forward and let YangYang hug you. You felt stiff until he started rubbing your back to comfort you. Gradually, you could feel your body and soul softening. You wrapped your arms around him for a long time, thankful that Liu YangYang was anything but a rich, little asshole.

“Where have you been?”

  When you came home, Lucas had come out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, and his eyes narrowing with suspicion. Your brain created a scenario where you laid it all out in front of him, every lie you’d ever told, and every secret you’d ever kept. Catching him while he was vulnerable and naked could be the easy way out you were looking for. You almost did it, but the way he looked at you began to make you feel angry. It was like you were insignificant, and he was tired and bored of even looking in your direction.

“I was out with a friend.”

“All night?” he asked. “Must have been a good friend.”

  You didn’t say anything, because anything at that moment could have been the truth. Instead, you walked further inside and went over to hug him. You were still riding the high of being around someone as free as YangYang. A part of you wanted to keep the sentiments going, to feel comfort in the life you were living. But Lucas moved away from you, denying your affections. 

“Why were you in my clothes?” he asked. “What were you looking for?”

  You had two seconds to come up with a lie that would sound convincing. When you didn’t, Lucas left the room. You were still standing in the same place when he came back fully dressed. You tried to brace yourself for the end of an era, for the argument that would burn you out for good. You were not prepared for the cold shoulder, or for Lucas taking his keys and walking out of the door.

You: I know you never wanted to hear from me again, but Erase Message You: I’m sorry I hurt everyone. I never meant to hurt you. Erase Message You: Can you come to our place? Send Message

  You sat on the edge of the hotel bed. You swore you could feel your soul being sucked out from your lungs and out through the grate in the wall where the heat should have come out. It was freezing in the room, and dark because of a busted lamp. It wasn’t ideal for someone who already felt as threadbare as the carpet, but it was the one place - the last place- he knew to find you.

  After trying to reach Lucas through message, you had given up. You left the apartment after him and puttered downtown on your own. You had spent a lot of time thinking, watching, waiting. You were trying to recall a feeling other than the numbness you felt. YangYang’s warmth and vibrancy was gone. The hopefulness was slipping away every second you spent sitting on the bed, knees knocked together, and shoes grinding a piece of trash into the carpet.

  You could feel yourself at the end of your rope. You had many choices, and all of them had you quitting your life as a sex worker and searching for a little slice of happiness. You wanted more for yourself, and from yourself. Spinning around in circles, your web of lies keeping you restrained, wasn’t your ideal life. All of those thoughts and more were rummaging around in your brain, when there was a soft knock on the door.

 You weren’t sure he would come. If you were him, you didn’t think you would have made the choice. You got up and answered the door, swinging it open to see him standing there holding a wad of money in his fist, just like the last time you saw him. When he saw your face starting to screw up, Hendery’s eyes got comically wide.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It was just a joke. A poorly timed joke. “

  It wasn’t just the tears. You could feel your legs collapsing underneath you. You felt everything fall when you saw him. Luckily, right on time, Hendery caught you before your knees could buckle. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, his face full of worry.

“What happened?” he asked. He rubbed your head and sat with you in his arms, on the bed. “Did someone hurt you? What is it? Tell me.”

 All of the words wanted to come out, but your mouth was like bumper-to-bumper traffic. You stuttered and felt yourself beginning to whine. You felt ugly that you were reacting in the way you were, but Hendery’s kind eyes began to soothe you.

“It was a stupid joke.” he said. “I’m sorry. I take it back. Please don’t cry.”

“It’s not you.” you managed to say.

  You untangled yourself from his body and sat on the bed beside him. Hendery was inches away from kneeling down on the floor in front of you to look at your face. He kept looking into each of your eyes, his hands holding yours,  moving to rub against your leg, and lastly, going to wipe the tears from your cheeks. 

“Lucas?” he asked.

  You shook your head no. Realizing that you were lying again, you tried a different approach. You moved yourself back on the bed so that you could face him. Taking the first step of honesty felt painful.

“You’re the first person in my life I was ever fully honest with,” you said. “But I still lie to you, too. Doesn’t that make me a bad person?”

“No,” he said. “I lie all the time. I lied when I said I never wanted to see you again.”

  You took Hendery’s hands and held them. “I’m sorry. I should have stopped what we were doing when I knew you were falling in love with me.”

“I wouldn’t want that.”

“I know,” you said. “But it’s what should have happened. I thought I didn’t know why I did it, but I think I do now. It’s not an excuse. I’m not excusing anything I’ve done, but I want you to understand me. You made me feel something, Hendery. You made it easy to distract myself from my shitty life.”

 Hendery leaned in to kiss you. Once you felt him on your lips, you were hungry for more. The long conversation you wanted to have with him was forgotten. You kissed him back and fed yourself. You got up on your knees on the bed with him and held your body against his.

“ I don’t care.” he said. “I just want you. You make me feel it all.”

  You could taste your own salty tears in his kiss. Your mind was so barren of any kind of rational thought, so letting Hendery take off your clothes was easy. You did the same for him, touching his body like it held all of life's answers.  You clung to his sweaty skin. You stretched yourself across the hotel bed, your body eager to be filled with something, anything. 

 Neither of you could stop. Hendery remembered everything you liked. He parted your legs and slipped his fingers inside of you. His eyes never left yours, even as you got on top of him, your hair matted to your face and a wild look in your eyes. 

“Like old times. “ he said.

  You placed your hand over his mouth. He licked your fingers and you smiled. You took him inside of your body, feeling very full. You could still see the love staring back at you, could feel it in the way he trembled as you fucked. You missed him. Each touch brought life back to a memory, like crayons coloring in a page. 

 Looking up at the ceiling made you feel like you were flying through space. You would have welcomed feeling lost, but Hendery pulled you back down to earth again. He sat up, shifting himself so you were riding him in a sitting position. He touched his nose to yours and held your back as you started moving.

  You let yourself go, leaning backwards, feeling Hendery’s strong grip holding you up. His lips were on your collarbone, his tongue leaving trails all on your skin. It wasn’t why you invited him, but you always knew how to make him stay.

  You laid on Henderys chest. Your body was exhausted, your brain even more so. Hendery looked content, like he had been waiting to see you again to feel that ecstasy. You were scared of letting him down again, but you wouldn’t think like that. Besides, after he came, he kept repeating that he knew you could never be together. You were grateful for his effort, but hearing him say it made you a little sad.

“I think I’m going to quit.” you said. “I’m not sure I can keep this up much longer.”

Hendery looked down, his chin doubled. You touched your fingers to his face and laughed. Seeing you smile made him smile. 

“When?” he asked.

  You could hear the hope in his voice. You wished it could rub off on you. You laid back down on his chest, your ear hot against his skin. You didn’t have an answer for him, and even if you did, you weren’t sure it was his to have.

  Hendery got up to go to the bathroom, so you checked your phone. There were no messages from Lucas, none from Ten, none from Xiaojun, and definitely none from Kun. You looked through some of the old messages from possible clients and felt a pull towards them. Their happy, hopeful faces called out to you, begging you not to leave them. 

 You heard Hendery talking to himself in the bathroom and rolled over. You flicked through more clients, coming up on the one from before. His name was WinWin, and he was gorgeous. Too persistent, maybe, but he looked like a sweet man. Before things had gotten too crazy, you were thinking about entertaining the idea of adding on a new client to make things interesting. You clicked on his profile. You opened his messages and thought of something clever to write back. 

 If you were going to quit your job, you might as well have one last hurrah. 

[alfredosauce50]

She’ll never know [Yandere! Iceland x reader]

Synopsis: Everybody’s pumped for the week-long skiing trip in Switzerland. While Emil and you are back to showcasing your weird relationship— “platonically” holding hands and sharing beds, Mathias never catches the drift like everyone else does and demands the same treatment from you. Emil eventually gives in to jealousy and denounces his friendship with you the first night in. He thought he was satisfied with these developments, all until he overhears a conversation between Mathias and Lukas two days later. Seems like he wasn’t the only one pining for you. His chance at revenge arrives when he finds the Dane unconscious in the snow after a freak accident. Wordcount: 4,288 The reader is referred to as she/her.

It was supposed to be a drama-free ski trip. 

You were tagging along for the first time, sitting with him on the plane and sharing a room at the resort. Getting a seat next to you was a wildcard, for sure. But the latter was a given, considering it was Tino who made the sleeping arrangements. Out of everyone in the group, or anyone for that matter, you had always been the closest to Emil—the Finnish man was well aware of that.

Even then, he planned on sticking to you like a tattoo. For seven straight days, being with him also meant you would be in the company of a loud-mouthed Dane. And sometimes, he could be all up in your business. But he was safe for now, so long as he didn’t try anything on the plane. 

The soft murmuring of passengers and white noise of the cabin filled his ears as he walked down one of the aisles. Once you found your seats, he didn’t waste time to buckle himself in and get comfortable, all so he could pull out his phone. The last time you were with him, you both watched Interstellar. Well, most of it. 

“Em, this flight is a little over an hour. Why not take a nap instead?” You suggested, but he never slowed his movements to open Netflix.

While the downloaded video loaded, he pulled off his sweatshirt to ruffle up his silvery-white hair. Under that was a black graphic T-shirt with a cat on it. “Mm... No. We have to finish it while it’s still fresh in our memory.”

“Okay, fine. I didn’t wanna watch it right now because I’ll cry again.”

“So? Nobody’s gonna see.” 

Nobody except him. But you never minded, as you were already leaning over to finish the movie with him. His taste in sad movies rubbed off on you, and you were quick to tears. That, he was very familiar with. But besides crying, you also had a habit of falling asleep in his bed after staying up to watch things or play games. So it wasn’t weird to know how often you slept with him. 

Eventually, a strange chemistry started to brew between you both. 

A physical and emotional closeness so intimate, it was comparable to that of a relationship. But Emil never thought of things like that. Best friends could do this stuff, couldn’t they? Holding hands and sharing clothes was the norm. 

Drinking from the same cup was just a regular Tuesday.  

“Gimme some of your apple juice.” You whispered, feeling a little dry in the mouth after tearing up. Reaching out for his cup to take a few gulps, he furrowed his brows and grumbled. He was left with nothing but backwash. 

“I was gonna drink that.”

A few mischievous laughs fell from your lips. “There’s still some left.” Picking the cup up, you swished around the remaining contents, which wasn’t much. 

“This should be more than enough for you, you dehydrated gremlin. I’d encourage you to have more, but we both know you’d only have a sip whether I drank from it or not."

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he frowned. “No I wouldn’t.”

“You would. That’s why I left you a sip.”

“... Shut up.”

The plane landed not long after, and your spunk died down near the conclusion of the film. Yes, it was sad. And yes, you cried. Like Emil expected, you were going to be silent for a while. When everyone regrouped to walk around the airport, you stayed by his side and held his hand. At the platforms to wait for the train, you and him were inseparable—head on his shoulder and all. But in your defence, you were tired. And this wasn’t the first time.

If anybody else did this to him, he would be shoving them off. They could hit their head for all he cared. And that was precisely why Tino and Lukas were giving him funny looks in the carriage. 

Laughing quietly to themselves with a hand covering their mouths, they watched on with a devilish expression. “Huhuhu,” was what Emil heard as he sat comfortably in his seat, but he knew what it translated to. Look at you, holding her hand while she’s asleep. He simply turned away with rosy cheeks. He didn’t know what they were on about. This wasn’t weird at all. 

Yes, he wasn’t exactly the most touchy-feely with people, but you weren’t just anybody. And he knew he liked you, a lot at that, but it was perfectly platonic. 

Nobody was convinced, however. All except for the Dane who practically came bounding over from a few rows down. But it was likely he never even got the gist.

The train finally reached a slower, constant speed, so he was prepared to join the group for some small talk. Leaning down on the backrest, he laid his eyes on you and Emil with a grin. “Well, well, well. Don’t you two look cozy.” He commented, his voice making the boy glance up. “Don’t get too comfortable, though. We’re going skiing today!”

“But hey—”Combing a hand through his wild and unruly locks of blonde, he smiled sheepishly. “Do you think I could sit with her on the way back?”

Just when he thought nothing could ruin this vacation, he was proven wrong. That was right. Mathias was the only other person present who actively showed you affection, and it always bothered him. God, the thought of you sitting with him for hours made him sick. 

“... Only if she wants to.” He mumbled, sinking lower into his seat to cause his hoodie to ride up. Since it was already on his head, it came drooping over his face to hide his dark purple eyes. There, he could read the other’s expression.

He could take a few things away from it. Right now, he was rubbing the nape of his neck while watching you snooze. Every time Mathias was expectant, he wouldn’t stop moving his hands. The sight made his frown deepen. When Lukas and Tino witnessed this, they looked away and shared the same thought. 

Just let him be, you idiot.

But Mathias didn’t quite get the memo, let alone read their minds.

So he stood up and responded with this. “Well, of course she’ll want to! Who wouldn’t sit next to me?” A brief silence fell around the group. Lukas coughed. Berwald continued to watch the mountainous landscape outside the window without a word, trailing his icy blue eyes over the snow that glowed purple at dawn. “Seriously, guys? This is why I like (F/N) the best. At least she’s nice to me.” 

Emil squeezed your hand as you slept. The tightness in his chest only seemed to worsen by the second. And it showed in his visible discomfort. Lowering his head, he let his fringe fall over his eyes.

“... She’s nice to everyone.” 

The blonde shrugged while closing his eyes in a look of satisfaction. 

“If you’re gonna be train buddies, then we can be skiing buddies. Right, (F/N)?” Reaching down to your head, he tipped it gently in a nod before saying this. “Of course, Mathias! You’re my favorite.” 

As if. 

“That was a terrible impression.” 

“What impression?” 

He huffed under his breath. They hadn’t even arrived at the resort, and he was already dreading the next seven days. This gut feeling turned out to be right, because it only seemed to get worse. 

***

Shortly after arriving, everyone dropped off their things before leaving to get right into the sport. After napping for nearly two hours, you were replenished with the energy to go skiing. Despite being quite the skilled skier himself, Mathias was kind enough to accompany you on the easier slopes. More accurately put, he was jumping at the opportunity to teach you. 

Hell, he’d been waiting outside your room to take you to the ski lifts. The moment you opened the door, you were greeted by the man all geared up, with goggles on and all. 

“Morning. You ready to roll? Or, slide?” He asked. 

Seeing him so eager was cute, so you were obliged to follow, leaving Emil alone in the room. When said boy left the bathroom after freshening up, he saw the door close behind you. “Sorry, Emil! I’m gonna go ahead! I’ll see you outside!” 

And just like that, you were gone. Dropping his face towel off on a chair, he dug his hands through his hair and breathed in deeply. Since when was the last time he felt this much anguish? Yes, he was rooming with you. But that was only at night. Daytime meant you would be with Mathias. He had no place complaining, considering he wasn’t the best at skiing. Nothing he could do about that. 

He changed out of his T-shirt and into his snow gear with a sigh. 

His excitement to go skiing was gone. 

And if he wasn’t going to ski, he’d be holed up in his room. His logic told him this was selfish, but he wanted you to stay with him more than anything. 

You returned late in the afternoon as the sun was going down, but he’d been staying inside ever since lunch. Perking up at the sound of the door creaking open, he forced his head down and popped his earphones in. After you set your things down and changed to more comfortable clothes, you walked over to the bed and found a bump under the blanket. Lifting it up by the hem, you found him curled up with his phone. 

His earphones fell out. “(F/N)?” 

“Who else would it be, dummy? I was wondering where you went.” You kicked off your slippers and slid right in. He didn’t know how much he’d been longing for this until now—the feeling of you laying next to him in bed. But he couldn’t get carried away yet. It wasn’t even night yet.

A displeased expression contorted at your features, but it melted away as you pulled his phone away. 

“H-Hey!” He tried reaching out for it, but it was already on the bedside table. 

“No more screen time for you.” You tapped him on the nose. “How else am I gonna get your lazy ass out of bed?” He knitted his brows together and rolled into you to hide his face. Then, he curled two arms around you, albeit slowly.

“To do what?”

“To ski, duh.” 

He squeezed you. “But I don’t want to.” Emil’s wintry white locks were soft against your chest, and you felt his body heat waft over to yours. It was a sure fire sign he’d been under the covers for too long. That was when an idea struck him. This would definitely get you to stay with him for the rest of the day, and maybe tomorrow if he was lucky. “I... feel kinda sick.” 

Your smile fell and you immediately reached out to cup his cheeks, then clamp a hand over his forehead. When he felt your touch as you checked his temperature, his heart rate escalated. He was on cloud nine. 

“... Oh no... You’re a bit warm. I think it’s best that you stay in bed. But don’t use too many blankets, or your fever will get worse.”

The sensation of your hands on him was to die for, and the thought that you were worried about him made it better. Nobody would have expected this trait from the usually detached boy, but he was secretly clingy. And he had the most subtle ways of showing it. An example would be lying about feeling unwell, but he didn’t feel bad about it at all. 

A headache was pounding in his skull, and it wasn’t wrong to say he was upset. And plus, if this worked, you could stay with him. He could practically feel a smile creeping to his lips at the thought, but he hid half of his face with the blanket. “... Are you gonna ski tomorrow?” He asked quietly. 

You craned your head to the side in thought. 

“Only if you can. Who’s gonna look after you when I’m gone?”

Blood rushed up to his face and he nodded. “Okay.” 

Reaching out to his cheek again, you groaned. “Oh my god. Why are you so hot? Hold on. I’m gonna find you an ice pack.” You slid off the bed, but not before giving him an affectionate pinch. He made a soft noise in protest. “I think this is a sign for you to fix your sleep schedule and stop eating instant.” 

Before you left, he reached out to grab your wrist. 

“What is it?”

He released you after a few moments. “... Nothing...” 

You smiled weirdly. “Okay, hun. Give me a ring if you need anything.” 

A couple hours later, the group gathered for dinner in a nearby restaurant. Despite the freezing temperatures that dropped significantly at night, Mathias insisted to sit outside at the balcony to enjoy the views. The views in question weren’t even that visible with how dark out it was. There was nothing but faint outlines of mountains stretching on for miles into the horizon. 

Much to Emil’s displeasure, you insisted that he sit opposite you. Understandable, because it was closer to the indoors where the warm air was wafting out of. But that only meant you’d sit next to the Dane, and he was quick to notice you shivering lightly in the cold. 

Like him, you had a sweater on, but he was the human heater, not you. Curling an arm around your shoulders with a softened gaze, he rubbed your arm up and down. Almost like how a boyfriend would to their girlfriend. 

And Emil witnessed it all happen. 

“You’re shaking like a leaf, min elskede. Do you want my sweater as well?” He laughed, to where you shook your head profusely. 

Did he just call you ‘my love’ in Danish? Since when did he start calling you that? And he was offering his clothes to you as well? He thought only he did that. Gripping the hem of his hoodie with clammy hands, he lowered his head as his heart started to sting. Fuck. He hated this feeling. 

But what he saw next made it unfathomable. 

“No, of course not! I can deal with this. You’d be crazy to take it off—" He lifted his sweater up and threw it over his head, the action making his t-shirt ride up. “—and, you’re taking it off.” He fixed his top before sliding the knit over you. Pulling it down so you could fit your arms through the arm holes, you were overwhelmed with his smell, and not to mention, completely encased with warmth. 

He was now left in nothing but a T-shirt.

“That better?” Mathias grinned.

“Yes, you idiot. But if you catch a cold because of me, you won’t be the only sick one in the group.” You grumbled under a blush, a little embarrassed he actually gave you his sweater. “Thank you, though.”

His stomach churned. His breathing deepened. Unbeknownst to you, or anyone for that matter, he started to spiral down a path of self-destructive thoughts. Did he always like you that much? He lifted his gaze to you, and found you carrying on with your usual banter with the Dane. Did you always like him that much? You laughed. Emil bit his lip. It always made him euphoric to hear you laugh, but knowing it wasn’t him that was responsible for it made him feel an unpleasant mix of all kinds of things. Sadness, anger, and a violent kind of jealousy.

So shortly after finishing his food, he stood up and left without a word. That silenced the chatter at the table, and everyone called out to him. But he was too quick on his feet.

You’d never seen him do something like that. Either he was nauseous, or something was really wrong. “He’d got a fever, so maybe he’s going to... You know. I’ll check on him.” With that said, you stood up and took Mathias’s sweater off. “Here. Just in case I don’t come back.”

Jogging up to your room, you were relieved to see that your instincts were right on the mark. Emil had retreated back here, and was currently hiding under the covers. Nearing his side, you lowered yourself to your knees. "Em? Are you okay? Did you puke?”

“... No.” His voice was thick and nasally.

And that pointed to one thing.

The poor boy was crying.

Breathing out a soft sigh, you removed all your layers until you were in your undergarments. Lifting up the corner of the blanket, you joined him before wrapping your arms around his form. “I know you don’t like talking about yourself, but I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.” You murmured, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “You can tell me anything. I won’t be weirded out or judge you. I’m just worried about you, okay?”

He popped his head out from under the blanket to reveal his flushed face stained with tears.

“... Anything?”

You hummed. “Mmhm. Anything.”

Emil paused for a moment. Frankly, he had no idea why he was feeling like this. Perhaps he did, he just didn’t want to say it. That maybe, everyone was right about him. That what he felt about you was anything but innocent. The signs were all there. He’d never been this attached to anyone, ever, and even if he was, he would’ve hid it to some degree. But not with you. He’d been all over you since the start of the trip, and even now, he had his arms looped around your neck. And when other people decided to do the same to you, he was choked with turbulent emotions.

It even got to the point of intrusive thoughts. Back at the dinner table, all he could think about aside from worrying about this relationship was this—something terrible happening to Mathias. He didn’t want him to be there. He just wished he’d disappear, even for a little while.

When he realized these desires, he knew he couldn’t tell you. But there was still something he wanted. “... I’m fine now. But I just wanted to ask you something.”

You frowned. “Doesn’t look like you’re fine. You can’t keep brushing it off and expect me to let it go.”

“You’re right. But I promise I’ll feel better after this.”

“... Alright. But the next time this happens, I’m not letting you off the hook.” You murmured, reaching out to give his cheek a pat. “What did you wanna ask me?”

He flickered his eyes down to your lips. Then, he returned his gaze, but his stare felt a little hot on you for some reason. It never crossed your mind that he was hugging you around your neck, but it did now. “Would you ever...” Emil blushed darkly. “... Kiss me?”

You blinked at the unexpected question, but reacted nevertheless. The red flushing his cheeks spread to yours as you strung together the words to respond. “Well... I’m not disgusted or anything. We’re really close, so I wouldn’t mind kissing you.” You answered honestly, but that didn’t change the fact that you were curious why he even asked such a thing. “... Why?”

“I just wanted to know.” Emil mumbled. “Would you kiss anyone else?”

“No. That would be weird, wouldn’t it?”

His heart started to pound in euphoria. But the longer he lingered on what you said, his heart began to pound with another emotion.

“If you’d kiss me, then would you kiss me now?”

You had a feeling things would pan out this way. But you didn’t mind it in the least, in fact, you kind of wanted to do this. Leaning in to him, you heard his breath hitch from the close proximity. “... Maybe. But only a short one, because you’re sick.” Pressing your lips to his for short and sweet peck, he squeezed his arms around you and pulled you in again. Attaching his mouth to yours for a deeper kiss, he caught you off guard by the sudden build-up in intensity.

His coils around your neck tightened, and for the next few minutes or so, he kept kissing you. He just couldn’t stop moving his mouth with yours, nibbling on your lips ever so often. It felt too good. He never thought he’d ever be able to do this, but he was never going back now.

Everything he’d ever done with you now felt like child’s play. How could he have resisted these feelings for so long? Rolling you onto your back, he loomed over you and continued to make out with you on the bed. The connection between your mouths was starting to feel hot. The taste of yours only grew more prominent, and that was how he knew he was denouncing everything he used to have with you. He couldn’t take it, being friends with you. Emil had always been clingy. Jealous. And he was facing the truth—the reason.

He liked you. In every way you could like someone. But that wasn’t all. He was obsessed with you.

That night, you fell asleep on his chest.

To say he was satisfied with these developments was an understatement. He always thought of himself as your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. But he was relieved he finally accepted he really felt about you. So there was no need to pretend to be sick anymore.

He felt like skiing again, especially when you had another reason to be with him instead of Mathias.

The next day was a blast.

He finally got to try the intermediate slope thanks to your encouragement, and he could officially say he wasn’t terrible at skiing. And he continued to explore the harder slopes the day after as well.

Sometime in the afternoon, he returned back to the resort for a hot drink break. Taking a seat in the dining hall, he overheard two familiar voices. He swallowed down what he had in his mouth before listening in to their conversation. Hm. Was that... Mathias? And Lukas? Those two have always been pretty close, so he could already guess that their conversation would include pretty confidential contents. But it wasn’t his fault they held it in his earshot, right?

“Hey, so I’ve been thinking. I really like... You know. And I wanted to ask her out.”

“You mean (F/N)? Good luck trying to separate her from Emil. If they somehow don’t already like each other, then maybe you’ll have a chance.”

“Nah, it’s worth a shot! He isn’t the type to be in a relationship, anyway.”

Emil froze.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

The memories of that conversation replayed in his head like a broken record. Even while he was enjoying the cold night air as he skied later that day, he couldn’t stop lingering on it. Fuelling the anger he felt a few days ago. So that was why he gave you his sweater. Gliding through the soft blankets of snow, he never slowed down. Nobody knew you were dating him yet, but that only reinforced the fact that this relationship was new. Nothing was set in stone yet. And that only meant things could change, wouldn’t it?

His chest tightened and he slowed to a stop. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter what.

As if the world wanted to test that statement, his attention was stolen by a gap in the snow fencing. It looked as if something shot through it, or more accurately put, crashed into it and broke it. Sliding himself closer to take a better look, he was shocked to find a body outside the barriers. A skier. He must’ve swerved too hard and passed out from possible head trauma.

But Emil soon discovered it wasn’t just any random ‘he’. The clothes and gear were all too familiar. Could it be? His blonde hair gave it all away. This skier wasn’t a stranger. It was Mathias.

He was laying on his side with half his head submerged in white.

Upon realizing their identity, the fear-induced urgency to call for help suddenly subsided. Instead, he turned around, and skied away, slowly, back to the resort. What was he doing? Was he seriously going to leave him out in the snow where he could easily die? Emil couldn’t stop himself from moving. Was he seriously that upset? It was clear. He was.

But he knew he didn’t want him to die.

Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone, not until an hour later, at least.

He didn’t know what was going through his head. But he knew what he felt. He wanted him to get sick at least. That would incapacitate him for a while, but not forever.

Sure enough, when the search and rescue found him, he was down with a bad case of hypothermia. He was immediately tended to by medical professionals, and it was revealed that he wouldn’t have made it if Emil never brought up the matter that Mathias had been missing. The color drained from his face when he heard that, and he never felt this guilty in his life. But it was short-lived. After all, he was still alive, wasn’t he?

He secured you in his arms as you cried softly into his chest. Nobody had to know about this. Especially not you, who warbled out how thankful you were that he remembered Mathias’s disappearance.

As he kissed your tears away, the only thought that repeated in his head was this.

She’ll never know.

[fluffi]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍

pairing: taehyun x reader

genre: 30% fluff, 70% angst, masquerade!au, prince!taehyun, antagonist!reader

word count: 3.8k

author’s note: I know halloween is over but I couldn’t get this out in time (I wrote the entire story in like 2 days) so it’s finally out now! my first time writing such deep angst (i am crazy). Surprisingly, I really like it, so look forward to more works like this in the coming year!

warnings: major character death, descriptions of seizures, mass murdering, mentions of fire, mentions of knifes, soul sucking, ghosts, killing, vague descriptions of dead bodies, feeling of being lonely, detailed descriptions of slashing throats

- - -

6.58PM | FRIDAY | 13 OCTOBER

“So, you finally decided to show up, huh?” Soobin side-eyed the blonde-haired boy, and sighed, shaking his head.

Kang Taehyun wasn’t one to go to balls and parties. He would much rather stay home and read a good book from his own humongous library, while sipping on a good cup of coffee by the fire. He wasn’t interested in the free food, since he could ask for that anytime in the comfort of his own home. Taehyun certainly wasn’t interested in the commoners who would follow him anytime they spotted him, or his father’s obnoxious friends. However, after hearing that tonight’s event was a masquerade, he decided to attend just for the fun of it. Little did he know, this vague decision would change him, forever.

“Well, yeah. I did, Soobin. Is it a big deal?”

Taehyun looked up at Soobin with squinted eyes through his sequined handmade mask, signalling that he was done with the conversation. How Soobin could tell it was him, he didn’t know. He thought that with the mask and different colored hair he could become an anonymous guest, but now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Yes, Taehyun, it's a big deal! You never show up to any party and suddenly, BAM! You pop up out of the blue wearing a velvet red coat and a white ruffled shirt. What’s your ulterior motive, huh?” Soobin squinted back at him.

“I don’t have any motives, Soobin. I’m just here because it's a masked party and no one should’ve been able to tell that I’m Kang Taehyun. However, that seems to have already failed because here you are blabbering to me about how I can’t even show up to one party.”

Soobin sighed and crossed his arms, leaning against the railing behind him. 

“Well, since you’re here, I need a favor from you.”

Taehyun groaned. “No, no, please don’t. I’ve had enough of your weird shenanigans. I’m not going to be your model for photography class again, or accompany you to climb Ruby Mountain just so you can pick flowers for your dumb bouquet crafting class.”

“Wow, excuse me! What’s with your petty attitude? Number one, bouquet crafting class is not dumb, it’s a new art form. Number two, this is not one of my ‘weird shenanigan’ favors, I just need you to talk to this girl I’m friends with.”

“I swear, Choi Soobin, are you trying to set me up?” Taehyun grimaced and looked at Soobin in disgust.

Soobin waved his hands in front of him in defense and blurted, “No, of course not! She just wants to talk to you to help her get something? I think? She didn’t explain it to me in detail. If you want to know, you should go ask her yourself.”

On any other night, Taehyun would’ve immediately rejected and made his way home. However, today was a special night, why not give it a go?

7.05PM

Taehyun frowned at the sight in front of him. She looks so out of place here, what is Soobin setting me up for?

Taehyun frowned at the sight in front of him. She looks so out of place here, what is Soobin setting me up for?

“What do you want? Make it quick. I have places to go and things to do.”  He tapped his foot and looked at his watch. She probably just wants royal connections, like everyone else..

“Hi, prince Taehyun. Oh wait, I’m sorry, no. Your majesty, good ev- ugh, no. That’s not right. Your highness, I have come to request a favor from you.” You clumsily curtsied, and looked at Taehyun with quivering eyes.

“Okay, cut the crap. Why are you really here? I wouldn’t be surprised if you just robbed me or-”

“Oh, no! I just need your help with...um..how should I explain this…” You glanced at the floor, and fiddled with the loose thread on your cheap tacky gown.

Taehyun sighed. “Look. Talk to me when you’ve figured things out. Otherwise, stop wasting my time.” He was about to stalk off when you suddenly shouted from behind.

“Okay, I’m sorry! Here’s what I need. I need you to sneak me in your chamber lab in the Kang Castle so I can grab...my...uh...things! Yes, my things! I left something there and I want it back!”

Taehyun stopped in his tracks and turned back. “I’m a prince. Out of all the favors you could ask me for, all you want is this? You could’ve just asked someone else.”

You were running out of ways to convince him. “Well, I need your help because there’s something I want to show you too! My new creation!” There, that should work. People like him get intrigued over inventions and such. All they want is money. This will make them money.

That statement alone persuaded Taehyun to let a mere stranger into his castle, his home, and let someone he barely knew into a room full of gadgets and dangerous items.

Kang Taehyun was an intellectual, but he should’ve known that curiosity always kills the cat.

- - -

7.29PM

“I’m so sorry, I never asked for your name.”

“Oh, it’s Y/N L/N! Nice to meet you!” You waved and innocently smiled. It was like you had forgotten that you were talking to a prince.

Y/N L/N. He mouthed the two words carefully. They sounded very familiar, and he felt like he had heard the combination of the two words before somewhere in conversation. 

Taehyun expected that he would be going home early at some point in the masquerade party, but not with any girl. He wasn’t interested in courting anyone, but he knew that either way, his time would come and he would be arranged with a princess from a neighboring kingdom. However, he didn’t like you like that. He didn’t even know you, and he didn’t know what took over him when he amenably agreed to taking you with him.

“So, Prince Kang, how-“

“Just Taehyun.”

“Well, Just Taehyun, let’s get to know each other better! I’ve been friends with Soobin for a long, long time. We met when we were ten, in the Fenced Forest outside. We-“

“Wait, I’m sorry. Fenced Forest? Royals aren’t allowed to go there. Wha...how did Soobin manage to get out?” 

Taehyun was the king of manners, but curiosity got the best of him and he just had to butt in. Soobin was the second prince of Choi Kingdom, the first being Choi Yeonjun and the third being Choi Beomgyu, who would follow suit after Soobin. Princes are usually kept under high security. There’s no way he could’ve gone out by himself without getting caught. Plus, who is this weird lady? She seems to be a commoner, how did she enter a high-end party without getting caught?

“Oh! About that...I snuck him out!” You proudly exclaimed, acting like it was the best Samaritan deed you had ever done.

Taehyun’s eyes enlarged twice its size. “You...you…” he was at a loss for words. Secretly, he wanted someone to sneak him out as well, but he was never going to say that.

Before you could respond with your weird, quirky remarks. The carriage stopped to a halt and the chauffeur in front got off, opening the side door for the two of you.

He stood at the side and gestured with a gloved hand to the front of the castle.

“Welcome back home, Prince Kang.”

Taehyun expected a similar welcome statement to be said to you, but the chauffeur only bowed at him, and nearly slammed the door in your face as you were exiting the gold carriage.

That’s so weird. Our chauffeurs always greet guests. Why was he so rude to Y/N?

The chauffeur was also wondering why Prince Kang was talking to himself just now on the ride home, but he didn’t dare to confront his dear prince and decided to just let the questionable behavior slide.

The both of you made your way inside, and began climbing the long flights of stairs to the Chamber Lab, which was on the highest floor of the Kang Castle.

- - -

8.38PM

“...right! He called me a buffoon, and then kicked me out! Who even does that?”

The both of you cracked up and a steel door came into view. The entrance to Chamber Lab.

You and Taehyun had been having mindless chatter in the past 45 minutes, and the both of you had bonded over a lot of things the two of you didn’t know you had in common. Alas, you both had reached the top.

Taehyun removed a key from the inner pocket of his coat, which you eyed warily, and he slid it inside the keyhole. With a rusty groan, the door popped open and you cautiously followed Taehyun inside.

Yes! Just as I expected! Everyone is at the masquerade party, so there’s no one inside right now. Plan A is working perfectly, you thought to yourself. In front of you, Taehyun glanced around at the empty lab. He removed his mask and set it aside on an empty table.

Taehyun didn’t really know what to think right now, He had caught feelings for you within the past hour. What are you thinking? You just met this commoner girl, and suddenly you want to court her?

The problem was that he really liked you, a lot. It wasn’t everyday he got to talk to someone without feeling like he was a royal. You completely ignored the social norms of this century and treated him like a friend, like an equal. The only other experience he had with people like this were the Choi brothers. To be frank, he was getting quite sick of them.

You were tinkering with a few buttons on a panel, and Taehyun looked back in shock and panic. “Y/N! You’re not supposed to touch that! Let’s just grab your things and we can go!”

“Well, Taehyun, remember the invention I wanted to show you? Come here.” You walked over to a translucent cylinder, and beckoned him to come over. Taehyun reluctantly shuffled over.

“Hey, Y/N, you forgot to take off your mask. Let me do it for you.” He was about to grab the elastic off your head, when you slapped his arm off fiercely. You tried to mask your angry expression with a small giggle.

“No! I like it, it’s quirky. Leave me alone.” You winked at him and he frowned at you. 

The air had shifted, you knew you were running out of time.

“Okay, anyways. You want to see my invention, right? Ta-da!” You jazzed your hands in front of the green cylinder. “Go inside! It’s going to be fun!”

“And why should I trust you?” Taehyun quirked an eyebrow up and stepped back.

“Because! Because we’re friends! I trust you, so you trust me too!” 

Taehyun reluctantly stepped into the small opening of the green cylinder. Maybe this thing is fun, it might send me flying. Heck! It could even help dad make some money!

You snickered to yourself and pressed a large red button on the side of the cylinder. The opening flap shut tight, creating an impossible-to-open vacuum seal. Taehyun was trapped inside, he just didn’t know it yet.

“Hey, Kang! You want to see me remove my mask right?” You smirked.

He nodded and shouted through the cylinder, “You look so weird with it!”

Wait till you see me without my mask, then you won’t be laughing anymore.

You slowly slid off your cheap off-brand feather mask, and innocently looked up at Taehyun.

Wait. I recognize her. Isn’’t she on my textbook? The front cover?  L/N Kingdom...massacre...L/N Family...royal family killed…

All the memories from what he thought were useless history lessons were all rushing back to him.

“The Kang Massacre. A historical event of mass killing that changed the 5 neighboring kingdoms forever. Taehyun II, your great grandfather, ordered and arranged the burning of the L/N Kingdom’s royal palace. He hadn’t intended to spread the fire any further, but it hit the commoner’s village and in three days, the entire kingdom had burned down.” Taehyun could remember word-for-word what his teacher had said.

“...Y/N L/N was the oldest of the kingdom’s five children. Displaying amazing capabilities, she had the potential to be the next queen. Her body was found in her sister’s nursery room and placed in a special green cylinder for examination and autopsy. She was the only one of the five children to not be buried but cremated. Y/N L/N displayed amazing capabilities and had the potential to become the first queen of L/N Kingdom. If only such a tragic event hadn’t happened. Anyways, moving on! The biggest factor…”

It was all coming back now. He had seen a painted portrait of her on the front cover of his history textbook and he knew that this Y/N L/N was exactly the same as the Y/N L/N he had learned about. Their hair was the same, facial features, the same scar on her left cheekbone never left. He was getting scared, and he wanted to get out of the green cylinder fast.

“Um...uh….this is all fun and whatever, but what are you planning to do?” He was trying to keep his cool, but you could clearly hear the tremble in his voice.

“Cut the crap, Kang Taehyun. I know you know who I am. Let me tell you why I’m here.”

You, finally able to reveal your true self as a ghost, slid over the tables and went through the chairs to float right in front of Taehyun, while menacingly smirking and mocking his frightened expression.

“Let’s see...where should I begin? Ah, yes, the night I died. It was all your great granddad’s fault. All of it. The stupid idiot and my father got into a small argument and he decided to burn us all up into flames. I still remember that night vividly. I was in Aera’s room, playing with her and her new dolls. Next thing I know, smoke enters the room, followed by my coughing mother. She stands in front of Aera’s nursery and mumbles, ‘Y/N, revenge. Y/N, revenge.’ Mother collapses, and I fall into unconsciousness afterwards.”

You sidle up to Taehyun and (attempt to) press your nose against the sealed cylinder. “How is it, huh? Enjoying the story so far?”

Taehyun doesn’t respond. Regardless, you continue.

“When I wake up, I’m not in my body anymore. No, no, no, I’m looking at my dead body, in that green cylinder. It’s at that moment that I realize, I’ve turned into a freaking ghost. A ghost! I don’t have a body and this is my life now! At that point in time, I wished I could’ve ended this, but right now I love it. I have been alive for two hundred years and I will never die, or age. One day, I suddenly remembered about my mother’s last words, revenge. I swore upon myself to avenge for the death of my family and my entire kingdom, and started my plan to kill every single one of your family. Do you know where this is going?”

Taehyun is in the midst of trying to open the vacuum seal when you go through the cylinder and grimace at him. Taehyun shouts in surprise and scrambles all the way back until his body is plastered onto the cylinder walls and he cannot go any further. 

You looked down at him with mock empathy and continuing telling your life story. “Well, I started with grabbing tools for my little plan. I was in Fenced Forest one day, and guess who I met? Ho ho ho, I met your dear friend, Choi Soobin. I wasn’t expecting to get so close to him, but when I found out that he was a close buddy of yours, I decided to keep the friendship, thinking that it may come into use later, and it did. I have been waiting for this exact moment my entire life. I was the one who convinced Soobin to ask his father to do a masquerade party, and I was the one who convinced him to invite you, even though he said you would never show up. Guess what? You did. Big mistake.” You enunciated the ‘I’s”, and gleamed proudly at the quivering boy.

“After doing some research downtown, I found out that this green cylinder that you’re in right now has the power to control the souls of mortals. I spent years and years recreating this invention, and now, it’s ready. For you. Do you want to know what will happen to you here?”

Taehyun slowly shook his head and looked down at the ground, trying to see if there was an exit somewhere.

There wasn’t any place to escape, anywhere. Taehyun’s body was stuck inside, and the only way he could escape was if his soul left his body behind, but he didn’t know that yet.

You squealed in excitement. You had been waiting for this moment your entire life, and you wanted to drag it on for as long as possible. “Guess what? I’m going to tell you anyway! I will click this cute little blue button on my right, which will suck out your soul! Did you hear that? Your soul! Then I will enter your empty corpse, and I will become Kang Taehyun! No one will know, because they won’t be able to tell. I can do anything I want when I’m in your body. Do you know what I’m going to do when I become you, stupid Kang Taehyun? I am going to go to your father’s throne room when no one else is around except him, and I will slash his throat, nice and slow. I will watch the life seep out from his dead body and then you know what I, as you, will do? I will burn his corpse in the throne room, and leave. I will walk around every inch of this idiotic palace and set fire to every part of it, until every single part of this castle is lit in flames. Oh, no! Aren’t you scared? Don’t worry, by that time every peasant, merchant, servant, and royal of the Kang Kingdom, will be dead. Fun, right?”

Taehyun tried slowly processing the information you were throwing at him. This is a dream. It’s a nightmare. Ms. Patricia, the housekeeper, will wake me up from my slumber anytime now. Y/N doesn’t exist, you never liked her. He pinched his skin and knocked on the surface of the cylinder.

Sadly, he was still very much alive. “Let me out! You idiotic psycho! I didn’t do anything my great grandfather did! I’m not him. We are two completely different people and the person you want to kill isn’t me, its him, but he’s dead. Give up, Y/N. Your mother’s words have already come to life a long time ago. My great grandfather died from an assassination.”

You tilted your head in response. You didn’t know about this piece of information. However, you had wasted too much time to figure out a way of sucking Taehyun’s soul out of his body that you just couldn’t believe him. You had gone ballistic. You had to end the Kang legacy, just like how his ancestors did for your family legacy. 

“Sounds like false information to me. I am not going to stop here just because of one measly statement. I have been working for this for more than a hundred years, and I’m not letting my hard effort go to waste. Oh, won’t poor Soobinnie be so sad to hear that his good friend murdered his own family and kingdom. Whoopsies.” You stuck your tongue out and shrugged.

Taehyun realized that giving you false information wasn’t to get him out of this mess, so he resorted to pleading. “Please, Y/N. This is not my fault. I’m sorry, we can get over this. I can give you anything you want. Money? Rooms? Clothes? Heck, I can even give you love!”

You scowled at his cowering figure. “I want your empty body. I don’t want anything else. You are going to give it to me regardless.” You glided over to the blue button and hovered your arm over it.

“Any last words?”

“I...Y/N…I truly liked you. You were a nice person, and I know you still are. Deep down, you have real emotions and I’m sure you possess some form of empathy. Please Y/N. You can stop now. Is it because for all these years, no one cared for you? Did no one ask you how you were, or what you wanted? Well, I’m here. I can help you. I can give you a better life. You will be able to tell me anything and have everything. Please, Y/N...this is not the real you. You don’t have to do this.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned away from Taehyun to hide your vulnerability. 

“I don’t need anyone or anything. I just want you gone. You don’t know me. I don’t want a better life. I want to avenge for my family and my kingdom. The Kang Kingdom has to pay for what they have done, and this is the only method that will suffice.”

While you sniffled and sobbed, you turned back to a teary Taehyun, and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

As more floods of tears came rolling down your face, you pressed the blue button, and looked away.

Taehyun’s body contorted back and forth, turning blue and eyes dilating. His corpse rose into the air and his limbs flailed back and forth, as if they were screaming for help. He could no longer control his body, and he couldn’t do anything about the agonizing pains that were seeping in. With one last jolt, his limp body fell back to the ground, returning to its normal color. 

You peeked through the hands covering your eyes at the sight in front of you, and immediately, all empathy and sympathy from before disappeared. Taehyun’s soul had been disposed into another dimension, and he was now the least of your worries. 

No one had talked to you like that before, no one had understood you so easily. No one seemed to care, until you met Taehyun.

Well, he was gone. You didn’t have to worry about showing your true emotions again.

You floated over to his empty corpse, and with a deep breath, you pushed down a small lever under the deck of the cylinder.

With a whirring noise, the cylinder started shaking, and you felt yourself fall into unconsciousness.

- - -

10.49PM

The guards all wondered what happened to Taehyun. It was like he had changed into a completely different person. He lost all forms of his mannerisms, and was rude to anything and everyone. The only person he treated decently was Choi Soobin, who had come to visit him after hearing about the events taking place. Even then, he had changed drastically within just three hours.

Taehyun walked past the two stationed guards outside the king’s throne room, who politely bowed to him. He completely ignored them and continued sauntering inside.

When the small ray of light from outside peeked through the translucent window, the item in Taehyun’s back pocket could be seen with a metallic shine. The guards should have questioned it, as well as the lit match he was holding when he walked inside.

- - -

© magicisland9-34. do not repost.

[peachyteabuck]

a king is first a man [snippet]

summary: thor’s fighting a double-fronted war, desperately attempting to quell the flames of a revolution, and is grappling with his father’s long-since murder on the battlefield all those years ago. somehow, none of that compares to the trouble of his new queen. 

this is a commission for @empyreanwritings​ who commissioned a snippet from the full work.

pairing: thor odinson x reader

words: 2507

trigger warnings: medieval au i did very little research for, brat taming that includes spanking as a punishment, allusions to breeding kink, angst related to social position if you squint. 

notes: major credit to @spacelabrathor​ for allowing me to steal this concept and write a full fic for it. she’s legit the best and i can’t thank her enough for putting up with me - both in relation to this fic and the rest of our friendship. she’s legit THE shit and deserves everything. 

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

She walks with the grace one would expect of someone like her: educated, precise, bored. Her back is straight as an arrow, feet silent, smile barely touching her cheeks as she hangs her head in feigned sorrow. In the dim lighting of the “secret” (known only to the highest of servants, the king himself, and, apparently, her) hallway she looks kind, mournful. If Thor did not know better, he might have offered his regards, asked if there was anything he could do to bring one of those toothy grins back to her bright face.

Unfortunately, Thor does know better. He knows as much about her as he does his greatest enemy – what they teach all the generals to learn before undertaking something serious as war: motivations, desired outcome, what leverage she holds over the throne and anyone dumb enough to occupy it. He knows what she thinks, why she thinks it, what she thinks will happen.

Despite this plethora of knowledge and years of military training and etiquette classes and warning from those he trusts the most, Thor loses himself as he backs her into the wall, never touching her but commanding the space between them with precision – just as he yields a sword during battle.

That’s how his heart feels, too, pounding in his chest as if his ribs were the bars separating him from his captor. He can feel heat course through his body, his hands flexing as flint strikes steel in each of his veins. He wonders, for a brief moment, if he is dying – if she had poisoned him just to fall into the very seat she claimed she loathed. No – he quickly realizes. That would be too easy. If she were to kill him, were to stop his heart or slit his throat or plunge his father’s sword into his chest, then were would be no game for her to play; there would be no place for her lightning to strike whenever she wished. She – Gods forbid – would be saddled with responsibility, something her childish bones could not handle. Like a house with no foundation she’d crumble, curling in on herself as servants and soldiers and saddle hands all pried for her attention.

“What?” she questions, arms folded across her chest. Her brow is furrowed, jaw set as she breaks Thor’s thoughts and wretches him back to the moment – back to her. It’s always her, isn’t it? Always has to be her, ever since she arrived on that carriage and turned her nose up at him and refused to kiss the family ring.

“You know what,” he snarls back at her, teeth bared as he leans in close enough to smell whatever the chambermaids had placed in her morning bath. Yesterday it was lavender – light and airy as she explored the castle as if she was a ghost peering through a window. Today was something stronger, something that bites at Thor’s nostrils just as she bites at his patience. “You know you are not supposed to attend meetings of a royal nature unless specifically given permission.”

Thor watches her carefully, watches as she doesn’t even flinch as she lets out a small laugh, rolling her eyes before returning the king’s gaze. It’s odd to see someone like her – someone so young – look back at him with such fire, determination. It had taken him years to reach that level of confidence, to develop the will to stand up to someone as powerful as himself. He can’t tell if he’s furious or impressed or both. Either way, he refuses to let her get the best of him.

Thor grabs her by the back of her neck, quickly flipping her around so her cheek is pressed against the smooth, cold stone, her hands pressed against the wall near her sides.

“If you want to act like a child-“ Thor hisses as each hand pins one of her wrists. “I am going to treat you like one.

The second she’s picked up and tossed over his one of his broad shoulder, she does her best to contort an exit for herself, thrashing and kicking like a cat that had been plunged into a freezing river. Thor, though, maneuvers her as if she was some inert object he was placing on a newly dusted shelf, keeping her wrists pinned behind her back and avoiding the kick of her heel as he carries her into the large chambers they now – whether she liked it or not - share. When he steps through the threshold, he ignores her cries for a moment longer, taking in the scent of her that had filled the room as he notices mused linen bedsheets and pillows strewn across the room, despite knowing it had been made by ever-attending servants when she had gotten up from her midday nap.

Had she been touching herself before she interrupted Thor’s meeting with the council? Had she plunged three fingers into her dripping center, chasing the world’s sweetest pleasure? Had she thought of her husband while she gushed over her hand? Had she whispered his name so the servants would not hear her shameful lust, or had she screamed it – hoping one of them would call upon him to make her stop? Did she think that they thought he had that much power over her?

Thor shakes his head, returning to his original mission. The king smoothly navigates the large room while making sure his bride doesn’t knock anything over (she had ordered many a plate of treats while she was alone, barely picking at any of them, even as the carts the servants placed them on filled the room). Like the minotaur in the maze, he carries her with ease. In the back of her mind she can’t help but admire that – as if he can predict her every physical movement with precision, even before she knows exactly what her flailing limbs plan to do.  

Without warning, she’s dropped onto the center of the large bed. She sees her chance of escape, but her hope is quickly squashed when Thor grunts as he moves to pin her down, grabbing both of her wrists in one of his large, war-bitten hands. Something inside her can’t help but flutter as he manhandles her into the position Thor believes befits her behavior, one where he sits at the edge of the bed while her stomach is laid upon his muscular thighs. Her thin dress is torn without so much as a shrieking RRIIIIIPPP – as if even the fabric is surprised how efficiently it is ripped off the newly-appointed queen’s body. It sends a shiver down her spine, the knowledge of the king’s strength and size rusty in its age but easily shined with each exercise of Thor’s power.

“All you brats are the fucking same,” he growls through grit teeth as his large hands lay sharp slaps over her thin underclothes, preparing her for the punishment to come. “You push and you push and you get what’s coming for you and then you act as if you’re innocent.”

The queen gulps, still attempting to free her hands while her legs kick. Thor just laughs at her, pushing her wrists harder into the small of her back as he continues to smack her plump ass.

“Keep trying, my little morning dove,” the nickname given to her by the driver of the carriage she had road in on all those days before falls from his lips like blood after a swift kick to the face, pooling onto her back and in her center. “Eventually you’ll run out of fight and then this will go much easier.”

She huffs, dramatically yelling as the last of her fabric protection is stolen from her, exposing her to hot air in the room. “What on Earth are you talking about!? I didn’t do anything!”

Thor just snorts, leaving a few more smacks against her bare flesh. “This little innocent act you’ve been playing up all these years? It isn’t going to work on me.”

She scoffs, her next inhale sharp as his favorite battle sword with one final slap being laid against her. “I…I-“

The king just laughs deep in his chest, his hand moving from the round of her ass to between her now-trembling legs. Each ounce of golden defiance that once replaced the blood in her veins seemed to disperse as he touches her there, gathering the slick that dripped onto his pants. Suddenly, the clothing feels much tighter than before (though, whether it had occurred in that instant alone was unlikely) as he watched the pads of his wettened fingers reflect the torches along the wall. His face heats as the corners of his lips turn up into a smile – though he suspects the fires are not to blame.

“You took your retribution well,” he tells her, letting go of her now limp wrists to rub at the heated skin. She moans, pressing her face into the thickest gathering of blankets her limited movement grants her, last taste of insolence drying on her tongue. “I think I should show you what those who behave are rewarded with.”

She’s unable to process his words before she’s flipped again – Thor now on his feet while she remains on the bed, though now flat on her back. She’s completely bare but finds no shame in her exposure, watching her husband with fevered attention as he rips his shirt from his body.

Thor’s barely able to pull his linen pants under his ass before she’s begging for him, mumbling something that falls between a prayer and a spell to beckon the king closer to her – words low and desperate as they’re spoken into the heated air between them. He’s so hard it hurts, like his shoulder after he gets a newly weighted sword or his calves when he rides a new horse. It’s this simmering thing inside of him, water in a cauldron close to boiling but not quite there; his whole being existing on the precipice of something he can’t quite identify.

It’s not as if he has the time for introspection, though, because the second the air hits the skin of his hardened cock and she’s grabbing at him and pulling him to her, inside of her and for the first time since he was considered too young to be king his mind is-

Blank.

His mind is blank with a white-hot fire that blinds him as his guttural moans form a symphony with hers. Neither of them speak, neither of them can, brains preoccupied with their bodies and their bodies preoccupied with each other. It feels like battle almost, some carnal instinct commanding his every move while whatever consciousness keeps him tethered to the present surrenders itself to some orgiastic impulse. For the first time in a long time the monarch feels himself lose control as his hands roam her heated skin, as his war-torn palms feels the supple flesh of her chest and pinch at her pert nipples.

She inhales sharply at the small pinch of pain, the way she clenches around him encouraging him to continue.

“Oh!” she moans, loud and unabashed.

Thor had not taken a woman in a long while, too busy with his duties as king. He had moved bedrooms, in fact, since the last time he’d bed anyone, and had no idea whether the architecture granted him privacy from the staff. However, just as you practically waltzed into his highly contentious meeting, Thor allows himself to grunt and roar and curse without pity for the ears of those within the rest of the large castle.

One of his hands plants itself in the sheets, using it for balance as the other moves to rub at the most sensitive part of her. He revels in her screams of pleasure, in her pleas for him not to stop don’t stop don’t stop it’s yours take it please take it please!

A sense of pride swells in Thor’s chest, blossoming with the soil of watching her switch from rebellion to subservience with him having to do so little in such a short period of time.

Tightening in his abdomen distracts him from his preening, hips chasing the same peak she seems to be close to.

Thor tries to piece himself together enough to ask a question he wishes he didn’t have to. “Where do y-“

“Inside of me!” she immediately gasps, voice strained and desperate. “Please!”

Just as he wishes she would, he does exactly as he is told with nearly no hesitation – unloading inside of her just as she screams with her own release.

If the palace occupants could not hear them before, they surely heard the married couple then as they both shouted in vulgar unison. Deep and animalistic and wonderful, they both pant as they fall into a breathless kiss.

Her high recedes like the lake that runs through the kingdom at the beginning of dry season – slow and deliberate and leaving her with a dry mouth. She stares at the ceiling, noticing for the first time that a map of the kingdom has been painted there. It seems, just as she views the room, that she sees the rest of the world with a sharper eye; she wonders that if she were to be escorted outside by one of those ghastly ladies in waiting outside, she would see the night sky with more precision than ever before. If she could sift through the darkness, would she be able to draw the stars? If she were to look back down to Earth and attempt to traverse the forest, could she watch the fauna as they walked through the pitch black?        

“Drink this,” Thor’s gruff voice cuts through the thick fog in her brain, handing her one of those obnoxious chalices. The metal and jewels adorning it are cooled by the chilled water inside of it, and she wonders how it stayed so cold despite the heat in the room. “You need to keep a clear head.”

She gives a little snort as she gulps the water down, small droplets spilling from her lips and down between her breasts. It takes all of the king’s minute willpower not to drink that down, too. “Why would I need that?”

Thor…does not have an adequate answer to that, at least one he can articulate. There’s a sense of dread that settles into his gut, winds its way through his gut and makes him feel queasy. He wonders if she hates Asgard just as her mother presumably hates his new wife’s home kingdom, if Thor had done something so devastatingly wrong to this poor young woman and the both of them would have to live in the choice forever.

“You know, if you’re going to spiral each time I say something like that, I’m going to need to behead you,” she jokes as she places the chalice back in Thor’s hands. Her arms shake just a little as she does so.

It takes a long while for the man to respond.

[teamhook]

|AO3|

|FFN|

I want to thank @captainswanmoviemarathon and Discord. My co-writer @revanmeetra87

I want to also thank @ultraluckycatnd for Beta-ing thiis thing for us.

Thursday

Jefferson's broken leg was on a sling. His arm was in a cast. He wasn't in the best condition but he knew if he didn't get Killian back home he would be worse off. He would disappear. The TV kept reminding him that he needed to get out of the hospital ASAP. There were reports the elevators had either stopped working completely or malfunctioning. He had firsthand experience that is why he is in a hospital bed and not at home preparing his Nobel Prize speech. He had tried to charm the nurse to let him leave the hospital but failed miserably. Nurse Ratched told him he had to be released by Doctor Hyde. Jefferson didn't realize that she had come in to check on him earlier and overheard his entire conversation with Emma. She was concerned that he was crazy and suicidal.

Emma was getting ready for her day at work. The sudden ring of the fire alarm startled her. She could hear her neighbors yelling and Cat's frantic barks. She decided to check it out.

Killian had attempted to make breakfast and chaos had erupted, the fire alarm blared, smoke filled the apartment. Cat's barking got louder. As Emma entered she yelled, "Cat shut up!" She turned off the alarm, and opened the window to air out the apartment.

Killian glared. "That thing is a bloody hazard."

"It's just a toaster!" She glared back at Killian.

"That thing does not produce toast! One insertion only produces warm bread and two insertions produce charcoal!" he yelled.

Emma rolled her eyes, this man was a drama queen. "It's just a toaster." She repeats annoyedly.

Killian was pacing back and forth ranting, "You would think that when the General of Electric built the bloody thing he would test it, for him to take pride in his creations instead of just foisting them on the public without warning!"

"You know what, no one cares if they have to insert the toast twice. You know why? Because we all insert it twice!"

He took a step forward, he looked like a hunter going after its prey. He didn't stop until they were toe to toe. "Not where I come from!"

For a second Emma felt a rush, then she squared her shoulders. "Oh no, of course not because where you come from, toast is the result of reflection and study."

"Aye, you mock me, but perhaps one day, when you're awoken from a pleasurable slumber to the scent of a warm brioche smothered in marmalade and fresh creamery butter you'll understand that life is not solely comprised of tasks, but tastes."

Emma's smile widened. "Say that again."

Killian was baffled at her sudden change in demeanor. "Pardon me?"

"Nevermind, you'll be perfect." She looked him up and down. "Good, you're dressed. Come on, you're coming with me."

Killian followed her without question.

Emma and Killian arrived at her work, but not without some stares directed at Killian's wardrobe.

Emma had called Mary Margaret to meet them at the door. Just as requested, Mary Margaret was waiting for them. She greeted them as soon as they walked inside. "Emma, we've been waiting for you. We had-" She looked at the list, "five read so far-"

Emma shook her head. "Mary Margaret, meet Killian. Please take him to the greenroom; I want him to read." Mary Margaret smiled at Killian and nodded.

"Killian, this is Mary Margaret. Go with her and she will explain everything."

Killian and Mary Margaret disappeared down the hall.

Emma walked to the control room. Her boss was chatting up the client, so she went over to the monitors. There were women smiling and batting their lashes as they gazed into the screen with Killian on it.

The client, Mr. Spencer, was frustrated and finally said, "Walsh, I don't have time for this."

Emma responded, "Mr. Spencer, let's look at this last one."

Walsh Oz shakes his head. "Emma, the client said he wants to stop."

"Walsh, trust me, this is the one," Emma said with confidence.

"What is he wearing?" Walsh scrunched up his nose. "He looks like the Quaker Oats guy."

"Well, it doesn't really matter what you think. What really matters is what the ladies think. They love him. To them he is a dream. He's honest, courteous, handsome; a true gentleman. He stands up when you walk in a room. He brings you brioche in bed. If you eat his margarine, maybe your hips will shrink."

In the greenroom, Killian fidgeted under the scrutiny of the director's eyes.

"Mr. Duke, do you see that mark on the floor?"

Killian nodded.

"You need to stand on that tape line," the director said. "Okay, everyone quiet! And action!"

Killian stayed quiet with the rest of the room.

The director stared at him and rolled his eyes. "Mr. Duke, this is the part when you start talking."

Killian turned his gaze to the monitor and with a raised eyebrow, his blue eyes twinkled under the light. "Fresh creamery butter. Is there anything more comforting? I say there is. You'll agree once you sample fat-free Farmer's Bounty with the genuine essence of creamery butter in every bite. You shall receive butter's splendid flavour in your mouth without adding to the luxury of your waistline."

Mr. Spencer laughed boisterously. "Where do I sign?"

Walsh leaned in to whisper in Emma's ear. "Where did you find him?"

Emma took a step away. "Oh, he lives in my building."

Killian waited patiently by the door while Emma gave Mary Margaret some last minute instructions.

Walsh Oz walked out of the stairwell. He smirked as he noticed Emma was still in the building. "What's the deal with the elevators?" he asked no one in particular. He slowly approached her from behind, and smelled her hair. She stiffened. "Emma, we have so much to discuss over dinner tonight."

Oh yeah, Emma though. I'd forgotten about that. She tried to smile. "Yes, we do. I look forward to it."

Killian's jaw clenched at the display of power abuse and the obvious discomfort it caused Emma. Walsh grinned as Emma walked up to Killian so they could leave. "Nice job, Mr. Margarine," Walsh said as the glass doors closed behind them.

Once they're outside, Emma turned to Killian with a bright smile. She started dancing.

Amused, Killian smiled. "You look pleased."

"Killian, you did an amazing job in there! You are going to be famous!"

Killian simply smiled. "I take it you're dining with that man this evening?"

Emma's smile disappeared. "Yes, he's my boss, Walsh."

"Do you require a chaperone? His intentions are obvious," Killian asked.

"I'm alone with you, do I need a chaperone?" Emma rolled her eyes.

"Emma, we're not courting but if we were, as a man of honor, I would inform you of my intentions in writing."

"I don't need saving. No one saves me but me. Don't worry about it," Emma said, slightly annoyed.

Emma walked in front of him. Killian could tell she was miffed at him, so he kept a small distance from her. A horse carriage caught his eye. He patted the horse and turned to Emma. "How about we take one of these?"

She shook her head no. "Those are for tourists."

Killian smiled at the kind old man. "I'm sorry sir, she's not interested."

The man kindly grinned back. "No worries."

Emma raised her hand, and Killian watched her until one of the powered carriages - cars, he remembered - screeched to a halt at their side. It is bright yellow with some black trim, just like the one they used as transport earlier, but it appeared to have a different coachman.

"All right," Emma said as she opened the car door, "We're probably going to need a bank account number and possibly a birth certificate from you before we start filming. Legality and all. So if you could just drop the 'back in time' act for a few minutes and track them down for m-"

From behind them, a man in a billed cap darted forward and jerked Emma's reticule from her hands, then rushed across the street.

"Hey!" Emma shouted, enraged. "That's my purse!"

Emma took flight after the scumbag thief. "Hey asshole! That's my bag! I'm gonna get you, you ass!" She chased after him while wearing the most uncomfortable shoes. He was fast, but she was not about to give up.

She stopped for a brief second to catch her breath. She doesn't want to lose him and was about to restart her chase once more when she heard galloping hooves which confused her. She then heard her name being called out. That's when she noticed him. It was Killian riding a horse and he was fast approaching her.

"Emma, give me your hand," Killian instructed once he reached her.

She gave him her hand and he easily pulled her on the horse as they broke into full gallop in pursuit of the thief.

Emma held on to Killian tight as he maneuvered the animal. The chase didn't last long. They cornered the lowlife rapidly. "I warn you, scoundrel. You stand no chance. When you run, I shall ride and when you stop, the steel of this strap will be lodged in your brain."

The thief had nowhere to run so he just threw the purse on the ground and took flight. A sudden onslaught of cheering and applause erupted from their previously unknown audience. Killian unmounted to retrieve the purse. Emma simply stared at him as she tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

Soon enough, they find themselves back at the corner where the chase began. Killian hooked the horse back up to the carriage as the older man smiled at Emma. "Your boyfriend is a great rider."

Emma smiled. "Yes, he is."

On the ride home, they sat quietly in the carriage.

"Are you for real?" Emma asked.

"Pardon?" Killian responded with a raised brow.

"You're a Duke?" Emma asked.

"I was born a Duke, but I never felt like one," Killian smiled.

Back at the apartment, Emma was getting ready for her dinner with Walsh. She noticed the interactions between Cat and Killian.

Cat was eagerly waiting for her next command from Killian with a wagging tail.

"Stay...Sit. On your feet… Stay… Stay… Good girl," Killian said with a triumphant smile.

Emma can't help as her eyes drifted to Killian. He was a good looking man after all and she wasn't blind. He was distracting, but she had to focus. Dinner equals promotion.

"What are you guys doing tonight?" Emma asked.

David's attention was glued to the game on TV and he mumbled under his breath, "we might meet up with some of my friends."

"Alright, I'm off to dinner then," Emma said.

"Emma, please reconsider my offer to chaperone," Killian begged.

Emma rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself."

"David, don't you think it's inappropriate-" Killian asked as he helped Emma put on her coat.

"As her brother, I would think my sister would invite me to an audition," David said, outraged.

Emma sighed. "David, you're not exactly margarine material. I'm sorry."

"What!? I can't sell butter? Emma, I'm a great actor. I can sell butter! It's insulting that my own sister has no faith in me."

"Yes, David you are an amazing actor but-"

"Is it the accent? I can do British, Emma. Hell I can be anyone." David continued ranting as Emma turned to Killian. "Good night." She opened the door and lingered for a second before walking away.

Killian gazed after her with a small smile.

Emma and Walsh are seated and he ordered some drinks for them.

After the waiter left, his attention turned to her. "Emma, I have to admit I was nervous for you. When your friend walked in wearing that outfit, saying 'if you eat this margarine your hips will shrink'," Walsh laughed.

Emma smiled. "I was just doing my job."

"He is going to be bigger than Mr. Whipple. You're not sleeping with him are you?" he asked.

"No." She shook her head, yet at the tip of her tongue was a comment about it not being his business. Sometimes she had to remind herself to play nice.

Killian and David decided to go out and meet some friends. "Hey guys, this is Killian," David announced.

Killian smiled as he greeted everyone.

His companions were enthralled by his voice as Killian made a comment about how the best things in life are hidden in the basement of the Louvre.

David excused himself to go to the bar and get drinks where he bumped into a dressed up Mary Margaret out for a girls night out.

Killian noticed the interaction and David's obvious attempt at flirting. so he excused himself to get a closer look. Before he could get closer, though, the connection had been cut short and they returned to their respective parties. Killian stopped Mary Margaret to greet her as David caught their exchange on his way back to the table with the drinks.

Before anyone was aware of it, the evening came to its inevitable end. Killian and David were walking home and David stopped walking. Killian turned to him to see what the problem was as David started talking in a mocking voice...

"Please, allow me to assist you, Abigail."

"Oh, please, allow me to light that for you, Merida."

"What's this? Ah, this is my family crest. It has been in the family for generations."

"What do they have in the basement of the Louvre? The works of Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Chardin, David all surrounded by great coral sponges to absorb the moisture."

Killian was confused by his friend's behavior.

"Not all women are going to swoon over your-" David pointed up and down Killian's form.

Killian studied his friend, trying to understand David's point.

"I was going to get her number but-"

"I believe this is her number," Killian said as he handed his friend the paper. "Mary Margaret has no inkling of your affections. You are a Merry Andrew. Women respond to sincerity. This requires pulling one's tongue from one's cheek. No one wants to be romanced by a baboon. Here's her number and give her a call tomorrow. It's late now and Emma should be home by now."

"Wait, you like her." Realization dawned on David's face. "You really like my sister!"

"David, that's nonsense. You're intoxicated," Killian said as he scratched behind his ear.

"Now who's the Merry-Andrew? You know, Emma is having dinner not long from here. We should go and you can show me the proper way to make a move."

Killian sighed. "Not a move David, an overture. Make your intentions known. Think of pleasing her, not vexing her."

"Fine, no vexing. Come on let's go." David smiled as he pulled Killian in the direction of the restaurant.

Emma cleared her throat. "I have to confess I'm a bit confused. When you mentioned dinner, I was under the impression that we were here to discuss business, a possible promotion even." She sighed. "Dinner is winding down and we have yet to discuss those things. We've talked about your love of La Boheme, and the lovely place you purchased in Sussex."

Walsh gave her his best attempt at a seductive smile. "I don't believe I've ever seen you this flustered Emma, and you haven't even kissed me yet."

Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Right. I like you, Walsh, I do. But I think you would agree that a working relationship- a successful working relationship, requires-"

"Hello, Emma!" David's cheery voice interrupted. "We found you."

Jumping in her seat, Emma turned to see her brother suddenly hovering beside the table. "David?" she asked in disbelief.

"We wanted to say hi," David explained, then proceeded to introduce himself to her boss.

"We?" Emma thought, before realizing Killian was standing at her side.

"Emma," he said in a low, earnest voice as his eyes searched hers. "May I speak to you in private?"

Her mouth fell open. "Seriously? No!"

But Walsh was already inviting the two to pull up seats and join them.

"Where, exactly, did you say it is?" Killian asked Walsh with a cocked eyebrow.

"Sussex, near Ballmour," Walsh said with offhanded superiority.

"Built in the 18th century?" Killian reiterated Walsh's earlier words.

"Early 18th century," Walsh emphasized, with a look at Emma. Killian could almost see the man puffing out his chest with pride. "I have pictures to prove it."

"Well," Killian said, thinking of the empty, rolling green and scattered trees of the area as he knew it. "I do believe you were swindled. I can assure you, as of the late 19th century, there is nothing in the area but farmland."

"You're mistaken," Walsh said immediately. "That's not possible."

Emma quickly jumped in. "He's right; you may be mistaken, Killian!" she hissed. "You don't know-"

Irritation rising due to the fact she was defending the cretin who was so obviously looking to take advantage of her, Killian snapped back. "I was raised there, I do know."

Clearing his throat to break up the discussion, Walsh changed the subject. "Killian, do you enjoy opera?"

Still stinging from Emma's words, Killian plastered a smile on his face. "Oh, indeed. Do you have a favorite?"

Raising his eyes to the ceiling, as if thinking deeply, Walsh finally said, "Boheme. La Boheme. I've seen it 12 times. That's...that is how I learned to speak French."

From the corner of his eye, Killian could see Emma's eyes widen with surprise. Clearly she was impressed, or pretending to be.

Now the irritation grew to ire, and Killian could feel it gnawing at him. He knew he should just let it go, but suddenly he heard himself making a statement in French.

Emma looked to Walsh. "What did he say?"

As Killian had expected, Walsh was sitting there dumbstruck, only managing to croak out a small scoffing noise.

Killian translated the phrase, explaining it was the opening words to Boheme - a duet.

Still slightly stunned, Walsh managed to jump back in and tell the table that Andre sang it to Mimi.

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Killian laughed softly. "Andre?"

Now recovering, Walsh lifted his head. "Yes, I invited Emma to the Met to see it. But she turned me down! Can you believe that, Killian?"

Voice tight, Killian said, "True, it should not be missed by anyone. But perhaps Emma resists on moral grounds."

Emma groaned softly, lowering her head into her hands.

Walsh narrowed his eyes. "How so?"

"Let's get the check!" Emma said hastily, but nobody answered her.

"Well," Killian said, staring at Walsh challengingly, "some feel that to court a woman in one's employ is nothing but a serpentine effort to make a lady fall from grace."

Silence fell over the table, though David was trying to hide his grin.

Finally, Walsh said stiffly, "This guy is charming, Emma. The Duke of Margarine thinks I'm a serpent."

"No, not a serpent," Killian corrected. "Merely a braggart and cad, who knows less French than I, if that is possible." Pushing back his seat, Killian rose and collected his jacket. "And by the way, there is no Andre in Boheme. It's Rodolfo. And though it takes place in France, it is rarely played in French as it is written in Italian. Good night."

Knowing he had made himself a fool, and facing the possibility that Emma would never speak to him again, Killian still turned on his heel and stalked out of the restaurant.

Back at the apartment, Killian and David waited for Emma's return. At the click of the door's lock unlocking, Killian rushed to the door.

Emma opened the door and breezed in, ignoring Killian's plea for a word.

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[aviss]

23 for JB?

Hi @beesreadbooks Here we have another one, Meeting in a train ride. It’s set during an indeterminate period of time, vaguely regency/victorian, and it’s definitely not a short prompt. I hope you like it anyway. 

Brienne rushed through the station, one hand clutching the crumpled letter of reference in her hand the other tight around the handle of her suitcase, as the whistle announcing the departure of the train echoed inside the crowded platform. She dodged people moving away from the train, entire families who had come to say goodbye to a loved one and were now in her way as she ran for the train. 

All the good references in the world would be of no help if she missed the train. 

She made it by the skin of her teeth, climbing on board just as a cloud of vapour was released and the machine started chugging along. She took a deep breath, calming her galloping heart, and rested against the wall of the carriage as they departed, leaving King's Landing behind.

She wasn't sad to leave the city, King's Landing had proven to be too big and too noisy and too crowded for Brienne, but she would miss the people. She had enjoyed her time as a governess for Lord and Lady Stark's children, would have stayed with them longer but they were going back to Winterfell, where Brienne wasn't really needed anymore. Still, they had asked her to go with them. Winterfell was too far and too cold, though, and Lord Stark had mentioned some bachelors of his acquaintance he wanted to introduce to Brienne. 

She already knew how that always turned out and would rather spare him the disappointment and herself the humiliation.

"I understand, the north is not for everyone," Cat had said with that soft smile that always made Brienne miss her mother, Sansa hugging her tight enough that Brienne felt her throat closing. She had been lucky to end up with the Starks when she moved to the capital, the spinster daughter of a minor lord who had been driven from her own home by a distant relative as she was grieving her father, friendless and almost penniless, and too ugly to marry. "Don't be a stranger, you'll always be welcome with us."

Cat had been the one who found her a new position and wrote the letter of recommendation. "Lord Lannister served with Ned in the army, he's just resigned his commission to take over the Lannister estate. He's adopted his sister's children after she passed away last month, he's going to need all the help he can get." There wasn't a Lady Lannister to share the responsibilities him, which was why he had eagerly hired Brienne just on Cat's recommendation and requested that she came as soon as possible. "He can be difficult, the Seven knows Ned used to hate him when they were both just privates. He changed, though he's still arrogant as only a Lannister can be." Brienne must have looked doubtful at that. "Don't worry, I know you will be good for them."

"I hope you're right."

"I am," Cat had reassured her. She had also insisted that Brienne took a cabin on the train to Lannisport, not a just a seat. "It's a two-day journey, Brienne, we can afford for you to be comfortable." 

She was now grateful for it, as all the seats were already taken and they looked hard and small. 

Brienne moved down the carriages until she found the one marked in her ticket, and couldn't help the flush of pleasure and embarrassment to see Cat had paid for a first-class cabin for her. 

She could sleep comfortably tonight, no need to worry about fitting her big frame on a normal-sized one. 

The cabin wasn't empty when she opened the door, though. Sitting on the bench were two small children, their golden heads bent together and giggling with the mischief only small children could. They looked up when Brienne entered, their laughter stopping abruptly. A boy and girl, he couldn't be older than six and she was younger, both dressed in what looked like very fine clothes, obviously siblings, with huge green eyes and golden curls and the prettiest faces Brienne had seen. She double-checked that she was in the right place, and looked at the long corridor. All the doors were closed, and there was nobody around. 

"Hello," Brienne said, entering the cabin and letting her suitcase on the floor. They didn't appear to be in distress, so they probably weren't lost, though they were too young to be on their own.

"Hello," the girl said, smiling at her brightly. The boy didn't say anything, just stared at Brienne with narrowed eyes.

Brienne crouched down, she knew she was tall and it was intimidating for children so young. "I'm Brienne, what are your names?"

"I'm Myri, he's Joff," the girl said still with the same smile. 

"Shh, don't," the boy, Joff, said. He grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her closer to him. Brienne smiled at the protective gesture with a sting of the old hurt thinking about her own brother. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, keeping her tone calm and reassuring. "This is my cabin, are you in a cabin like this with your parents?"

Joff shook his head, still with the same mistrustful expression on his face. His sister was much more open. "Our uncle."

"Does he know you're here?" Another shake of Joff's head. "He must be worried about you if he doesn't know where you are."

"He's asleep," Miry said with a giggle. "We're hiding." Brienne had to bite her lips to keep herself from smiling at the pure delight in her voice, there would be a very worried uncle if he woke up without the children around.

"He's always with Tommen or sleeping," Joff said, judgement clear in his high pitched voice. "He's not fun anymore."

Before Brienne could ask who was Tommen and which cabin they were in, a voice called loudly from outside. "Joffrey! Myrcella! Where are you?" The children looked at each other and giggled together. "This is not funny! Joffrey! Myrcella!" 

There was a thread of panic in the voice that had Brienne unfolding from her crouch to open the door. In the corridor and advancing in Brienne's direction was a man who was obviously related to the children. He was stunningly attractive, with the same golden curls and green eyes, though his were dulled with pain and exhaustion, dark bags under them, and sharp features that looked almost gaunt. He had a baby in his arms, Tommen Brienne imagined, probably the reason he looked like he needed two solid days of uninterrupted sleep and a few warm meals. 

"They're here," she said, and his eyes sharpened on her. He crossed the space separating them in fast strides, his bearing martial and focused. He looked her over as he stalked in her direction, not liking what he saw if the furrow in his brow and the thin line of his mouth were any indication. Brienne was undaunted. "This is my cabin, they said they were playing hide and seek?"

He sagged at that, all the menace in his posture replaced by weariness, clearly aware that the children had been playing a trick on him. The baby chose that moment to start fussing, taking his attention from Brienne for a second and the man swallowed loudly, taking a pacifier from somewhere in his person and giving it to the child. Now that he knew there was no danger he appeared even more tired. "I'm sorry they have inconvenienced you," he said and followed her into the cabin. He stood there, hesitating, looking between the children on the seat and the babe in his arms. He looked like he wanted to hug them to his chest and at the same time throttle them for scaring him. He settled for a big sigh. "Come on, we need to go back to our own cabin and let the lady her own."

The children pouted. "You're just going to sleep again," Joff said as if that was the worst sin, the man clenched his jaw in obvious frustration. "I want to play."

"Joff, when we get home--" he began, and Joff pressed his lips together, gearing up for a tantrum.

Brienne wouldn't know what it was that made her speak, but she could see he had been scared for the children and that he was overwhelmed with all three of them, and that if Joff started crying the other ones wouldn't be too far behind. "It's no inconvenience, they can stay with me and play for a while." He opened his mouth, his reticence as obvious as his need for some sleep. "I'm used to children. I'm a governess, I have books and games and they will keep me from getting bored myself. We're not going anywhere, this is a long trip, Mister…?"

"Jaime, my name is Jaime," he said, exhaustion clearly having won the battle. 

"My name is Brienne Tarth." She offered her hand and he took it with a puzzled expression on his face. His hand was warm and calloused, and he held onto Brienne's for longer than what considered appropriate, his thumb moving absently over skin. Brienne flushed deep red and would have snatched her hand if it didn't look like he wasn't aware of his actions.

"Why does the same sound familiar?" he mumbled, taking his hand away and rubbing tiredly at his face. "They can stay for a while?"

"Yes, and you can go back to your cabin or take that cot over there if it would make it easier to be in the same room," Brienne pointed at the empty cot on the other side of the cabin. He looked like he was about to protest some more, though his eyes were almost closing of their own accord, "but you should lie down before you fall."

"It would be inappropriate, Miss Brienne," he protested, blinking rapidly at her to keep his eyes opened. She almost laughed, nobody would think anything untoward had happened between a man that attractive and Brienne the Beauty, even if there weren't three children with them. 

He didn't look like he was joking, though, or like he thought is a ridiculous prospect.

"Your children are with us," Brienne reassured him and he nodded slowly, she turned at an insistent tug on her sleeve to see Myrcella looking at her with wide and eager eyes. "Yes, Myrcella?"

She was rewarded with a toothy grin. "You'll read to me?"

"If your uncle agrees." Jaime had lost the fight with his own exhaustion and was now curled on the cot, Tommen pressed against his chest and arms surrounding the babe protectively. His brow was still furrowed, though his eyes were now closed and his breathing was evening out. "Sit there and let me get a book," she said to the children, lowering her voice. 

"I want to play," Joffrey said, the pout still firmly on his face. She had the feeling he had been very spoiled up till now and was not used to being ignored.

"We'll play after we read the book," Brienne said, not giving him an option and Joffrey nodded, satisfied with that promise. 

She grabbed her favourite one from her suitcase and sat between Joffrey and Myrcella to read, her voice lilting in the beloved phrases and images, eyes lifting to look at the sleeping man in her cot from time to time. Like this, with him sleeping in her cot and the babe in his arms, the children sitting by her side hanging to her every word, they would look to anyone as a family and Brienne felt the usual burn of pure longing for a family of her own. 

One just like this.

Maybe that was what had prompted to offer her help to them, maybe it had been the children's smiles and innocence, or the look on Jaime's face when he had seen them, unharmed, the sheer relief in his eyes. Brienne didn't know, and didn't know why the children had trusted her on sight and why she felt so comfortable with them, and their uncle, but she knew grief and loss, and this family seemed to have gone through their share of it.

The same as the Starks had helped her when she had most needed it, she could help this family until they got to Lannisport.

And if she was very lucky, she would be able to help the Lannister's just as much. 

...

[czec-hoslo-vak-ians]

This episode is definitely in my top 7 of the season

Michael and Maria💜

Scene goes👽

When it shows just a bus like that or one vehicle it means that the people inside are up to no good. Isabel upset destroying a race of people buyt where they really people though? Max knows something else is bothering Isabel show the bus again not a good sign. Hey we haven't seen Valenti in a few episodes. It's nice to see him just hanging out with his son we haven't had a father-son moments in a while. Valenti wanted to eat it he was looking forward to it Kyle turning to mush and sent it back into the water. That's right Liz is back to working at Cafe now. Well you can clearly tell that that glow stick does not belong on that billboard it looks out of place however since it glows it kind of looks like it belongs. That's kind of creepy when your mom vanishes like that in front of you however it's a great way to get out of talking about something you don't want to talk about. I would be freaked out to if I hit a carriage like that and there was no baby inside and saw a lawn mower going off by yourself with no one riding it( Maria hitting the baby carriage reminds me of the scene in speed where Sandra Bullock hits the baby carriage because she couldn't stop and it was just filled with cans). Totally knew that bus has some shady people on it. They are definitely the reason why all humans are gone.

Of course the sheriff would definitely know that the green stick didn't belong in the billboard. Kyle's dad definitely know that Kyle's changing sometimes the mumbo jumbo he does need to lay off a little bit his father has a point. Courtney really say their lives and copper Summit? I mean all she did was just destroyed the other husk. It seems like Michael and Courtney are getting a little bit too close for comfort.

I wonder why the skin Maria held up didn't disintegrate but anytime anybody else held up the skin it disintegrated really quickly. I really like how Isabel went to try to console ways and of course Maria standing next to Michael side. I do not like the fact that Max grabbed Tess away from Courtney like that however I do not blame test for being upset at Courtney she does seem a little shady that again Tess seems a little shady too so. Did you see how fast Michael jumped to Courtney's defense saying that she's on our side now. There is no freaking way all of them fit into that tiny bathroom. I do guys say test probably has the coolest power that she could make them think what they need to think. That is gross Nicholas eating someone else's bitten in food and drinking out there cup. I think Nicholas knows that something is not right with that mirror. Max consoling Tess rubbing her back like that not a fan of it. You can totally see that Liz saw Max rubbing her back I think that's why Liz left.

Max gift guilty and wants to consolas however the flashbacks keep running in his face her and Kyle together. You can tell that Max is debating if he should help Courtney or not. I love how Isabelle pushes Michael and max out of the bathroom door cause they are Just watching them strip Courtney's clothes off. I don't play Maria for having all those those because she's right she was dating Michael Guerin. However last episode she referred Michael as her boyfriend this episode it's past tense. Why is Michael so worried for Courtney this is unlike him to be worried about somebody.

I don't blame Tess for being suspicious of Courtney, after all she is somewhat the enemy. I've never seen Liz so worried about her parents before this is the first time she's actually seem like he cares for them and she says our friends most of her friends are in that room is that bathroom the only friend that really is missing is Alex so why is she really so upset?. Thank goodness Valenti to the rescue, if it wasn't for him Liz would have been a goner. Wow the Skins can fight pretty good it seems like they don't die easily.

Well now we know how to kill them, Max is so bitter towards Kyle and Kyle is the innocent person in this whole situation. You can tell that Isabel feels guilty about what is happening she wants to tell Max everything but she can't. I totally knew that she was going to give Max the slip oh, and of course Max is going to go after her and look for her. Nicholas totally knows that Isabel is there.

Michael seems really worried and upset that Courtney is dying it's frustrating he doesn't behave this way towards Maria. Finding the isn't a bad idea turning it off excellent idea. You can tell Valenti going to disappear next because he's trying to say goodbye to without saying goodbye. I feel bad for Maria because Michael is too busy with Courtney when Maria needs Consulting right now I bet she feels all alone. I'm so glad that Tess was there to help Maria she's being attacked by some skin. I totally would ship Maria's and Tess friendship from this point on if I didn't have such a distaste for Tess. Kyle's dad disappearing in front of him really sucks. I understand Kyle's frustration however I understand Max wanting everybody to stick together. Max's eyes said he wanted to tell Kyle something completely different but he looked at Liz and decided to go against it👽 of course it's Courtney would be missing.

The way Nicholas says valandra makes me want to vomit but however I love the name. It makes no sense that this little punk kid is in charge of all the skins. How did the mom know what she watching through the window.

I love it when Maria is freaking out because she Rants and her rants are funny. Three humans down to two poor Liz just vanished. Kyle is the only one he's not freaking out. I really like that Kyle got to do some butt kicking right before he disappeared. Poor Maria she's all alone to do this and she's the one who's freaking out the most.

Nicholas is such a punk I can't take him anymore. Courtney is definitely dying the husk isn't working. I'm so glad Courtney killed herself before Nicholas got the information on where the granilith is, that would have been disastrous if he got that information.

Wouldn't you think seeing Isabel knocked out like that that something is off smell trap Maybe. They are so outnumbered right now. Cat is out of bag now about valandra being Isabel. Someone needs to shut Nicholas mouth right now. I do agree with Nicholas Michael does have nice hair. Me cheering for Maria YOU CAN DO TTHIS GIRL! That's my girl Maria SHE DID IT. I'm not crazy that it was Tess that killed all the skins I think it would have been better story line if it was Isabel to show the skins that she will never choose their side. Or to have Michael Kill Them All to show that he is a good commander and 2nd. But the has Tess do it because Max is getting hurt just seems like the weaker route to take( it's just my opinion) but I guess to move the story of Tess and Max getting closer Tess would have to be the one to Kill Them All so Max can console her.

It's nice to see all the humans back, Alex looks so confused that Valenti is talking to him the way that he is. Isabel hugging her mother is a touching moment because Isabel really needs a mother right now and this is the closest one she's going to get. Kyle looks really awkward standing there while the girls were hugging he's like hey I'm back to. I totally think that Tess captain into that Source on purpose I think she knew what she was doing. Was that kid on the scooter supposed to make us think that that is Nicholas?

Well you guys that's the end of the episode I had fun I hope you had fun I'll see you on the other side.

💜 Michael does not like saying goodbye so I'll see you soon does just as good I'm so glad that he hugged her she really needed that.

Quote of the episode "oh please don't let me die like Elvis"

Coming up next: meet the Dupes pt1

Pic NOT mine

[shima-draws]

Shima Shima Shima please tell us all about your Wonderland AU for Tododeku!!!

Oohhh! Ooohh I would love to okay let’s see

Honestly it would probably just be easier for me to explain the original movie’s plot rather than just. Trying to make sense of what you don’t know with Izuku and everybody else’s involvement so.

Note that all of this is purely from memory having seen the movie once like, a couple weeks ago in theaters LMAO so there’s definitely gonna be some things I’m hazy on. But! The movie’s online now so after I watch it again I’ll update this post with a better summary!

Under the cut for MAJOR spoilers and also bc it got really long!

So! The Wonderland! It’s about a girl named Akane who isn’t terribly self-assured. She has friends and has a good life but she’s sort of…timid, so she doesn’t put herself out there when she should. This causes issues within her group of friends and even with her own mother, who Akane is sort of distanced from.

The day before her birthday, Akane’s mother sends her to meet up with her older friend Chii to receive a birthday gift. Akane does NOT want to go because Chii’s very…overbearing, and excited, and very very outgoing, completely opposite to her. Chii travels all around the world gathering antiques for her shop (mostly light fixtures tho) and is a pro at haggling trades and prices. Akane calls her a witch bc she rips people off sometimes lmao

Akane arrives at the shop and finds a strange slab with an indented handprint. Akane fits her hand into the indent and finds that it fits perfectly!! This causes a reaction which calls upon a resident from Wonderland, an alchemist named Hippocrates, to arrive from Chii’s basement (which is basically just a little storage hole). Chii immediately gets a broom and starts hitting him with it, calling him a creep and an intruder LMAO

Hippocrates explains that Akane is the Goddess of the Green Wind, and that Wonderland needs her help. Next to Akane, on the table, a little doll springs to life, who’s revealed to be a tiny little chibi character named Pipo who works as Hippocrates’ apprentice. (He’d been hiding there all morning, I guess to scope out the person whose hand would fit into the indentation.) Akane’s hand is still stuck in the little slab by the way and she keeps freaking out. She says she absolutely does not want to go to Wonderland to help them, so Hippocrates gifts her with an item called the momentum anchor. Essentially it’s an item that forces a person to keep moving forward and looking ahead when they try to go back. (Basically it’s an item that forces character development which is pretty wild lol) After Akane gets her hand free, the momentum anchor forces her to accompany Hippocrates and Pipo to Wonderland. Chii decides fuck it she’s going on a magical adventure too, and tags along with them!

When they arrive in Wonderland, they end up at the top of a large sort of watchtower/nest for a huge ass bird. Chii befriends the bird, who is protecting her eggs. As they make their way to the nearest town, they run into a man and his mother, whose ride/carriage cart thing was destroyed by an enormous machine that Hippocrates calls the “armored mouse” (because it kinda looks like a mouse). The armored mouse attacks the cart and essentially swallows it, including the sweater that the old lady had made. Inside the armored mouse, the Main Antagonist ™ of Wonderland greets the newcomers. His name is Zan Gu, and he’s intimidating as all hell. He’s not openly cruel, just quiet, and isn’t afraid to assert his villainly dominance. Most of his face is hidden, but he seems to have a skeletal, sort of robotic body. His cohort, a little cat person named Doropo, teases them. Doropo’s basically a mischievous troublemaker who enjoys making fun of others and getting in people’s way.

Zan Gu and Doropo continue on in the machine, and they head straight for the watchtower. The armored mouse starts to tear up the iron staircase, disrupting the tower. Chii rushes over and manages to save one of the bird’s eggs. Hippocrates calls upon the sheep from the nearby town to come help (and they’re HUGE and FLUFFY and adorable). The sheep crowd in on the armored mouse, and Zan Gu is forced to retreat.

The man who they had saved introduces himself as the mayor of the nearest town. The group walks over to the town, surrounded by hundreds of sheep. Hippocrates explains on the way that the land is dying because there’s a lack of water, which is one of the reasons why he brought Akane there. Akane’s like “How the hell am I supposed to help you get your water back”. They pass a gorgeous flower field which slowly gets worse and more dried out.

The villagers are relieved to see Hippocrates there, who is pretty famous in this world bc of his status as an alchemist. They also jump on Akane, super excited that the Green Goddess of the Wind is here to help them! Night falls and Akane freaks out, because she’d obviously wanted to go home like hours ago, and her mother is probably worried. Chii, on the other hand, is super nonchalant about everything that just happened, and is like “Well we’re already here and it’s late so we should stay, it’ll be fine!”

The group has dinner with the mayor while his mother starts to knit a new sweater to replace the one she lost to Zan Gu. Here we get a bit more into Wonderland’s history–the mayor explains that the flowers and sheep are what they use to make these sweaters and other clothing, but they aren’t selling as well as they used to anymore bc of the water crisis. He’d originally been on his way to a place called Sakasatongara Market with his mother to enter her sweater into a contest. Hippocrates takes over and discusses the water crisis in more detail. The original Green Goddess of the Wind had come over 600 years ago, and had saved Wonderland when they were in a similar crisis. Apparently, there’s a ceremony that is performed every year called the drop mist ceremony, which properly distributes water to the whole land. This ceremony is supposed to be performed by the prince, who supposedly has a lot of magical power, coming from a generation of royalty who can control water. According to Hippocrates the prince has been gravely ill over the past year, and this is because his parents had died, leaving him to grieve and become very sick as a result. Hippocrates believes that Akane, being the new Goddess, has the power to heal the prince and allow him to perform the ceremony. Akane again denies that she has any sort of power like that. During all this Chii keeps pointing out contradicitons in Hippocrates’ story and it’s hilarious because it makes him very angry and flustered LMAO and Akane’s like “Chii-chan, you’re being super rude right now”. I can’t remember if it’s here or not, but Akane sees a picture on the wall of the previous Green Goddess, and she looks really familiar…kind of like her mother…?

The next day, the group of four (Hippocrates, Pipo, Akane and Chii) decide they’re going to travel to Sakasatongara Market in order to deliver the mayor’s mother’s sweater to be entered into the contest. The market is on the way to Timeless Rain Castle, where the prince resides. The sweater is placed into Akane’s care, who promises she will deliver it. They’re given a car, which will help greatly with the journey, and then they set off!

Akane and Chii admire the scenery of Wonderland as they travel, but are saddened when they begin to see areas that have a clear lack of water and have died out from neglect. Meanwhile, in a grungy, dark city, Zan Gu approaches a man and brings him more metal. Apparently the armored mouse had been going around collecting metal, which we find out later that it’s so the armored mouse can be upgraded and reinforced even more to wreak more havoc (along with one other essential upgrade, which I’ll get to later). The man says he needs more metal if he wants to make something out of what they have. Zan Gu does his whole “threaten the victim” schtick, and guarantees he’ll bring more, as long as the job gets done. (I might be remembering these sections out of order but it all happens within the same timeframe, more or less.)

Back to Akane and co., they’re driving in the desert and they head right into the biggest fucking dust storm in the world. They take shelter under a large rock, hiding out there until the storm blows over. They were given huge fluffy suits (bascially fursuits) that were made from the sheep. They’re pink and comfy but horribly embarrassing for Hippocrates in particular to wear LMAO but they’re a great shelter for the storm. After the storm subsides, Hippocrates attempts to fix the car, but finds it’s getting late and that they’ll have to wait until the morning to do so. In the middle of the night, Akane wakes up to see Chii standing outside, looking at the stars. It’s absolutely gorgeous and beautiful.

The next morning, Hippocrates fixes the car! Hooray! With that they drive further north and arrive in a very snowy little village. Akane hears more stories about how things were when water was plentiful, and they’re exposed firsthand to how the shortage has caused people to become greedy. Zan Gu shows up while Hippocrates is out refueling and Doropo threatens the inn owner into giving up food and water. Zan Gu has an intense staredown with Akane but doesn’t do anything more before leaving.

Hippocrates sees the armored mouse on the move and follows them. At this point the mouse has been upgraded and looks more terrifying than ever, and can bulldoze and tear things apart much easier. Zan Gu goes to receive new materials, which are revealed to be missiles for a cannon. Hippocrates intervenes, but Doropo uses his magic to turn the alchemist into a fly.

Akane and Chii worry about Hippocrates’ whereabouts, but with some prodding, decide to head to Sakasatongara Market without him since they’re on a bit of a time crunch, seeing as the drop mist ceremony has to be performed the next day. They pass by Hippocrates’ house (but Pipo informs them nobody is there) and Pipo’s childhood home in the trees, where tons of other little chibi sprites hang about. The girls travel through a steep mountain range as Hippocrates tries to guide them–but being a fly, he keeps getting ignored and brushed off, even by Pipo, who can’t tell it’s him. Eventually they have to drive over a rickety wooden bridge, and Chii teases Akane about her nonexistent love life at school in an attempt to keep things lighthearted and distract them from the terrifying ride over the bridge. Akane pokes back and makes fun of Chii for her failed conquests of men. One of the planks breaks and Chii steps on it, and they’re both screaming as they cross the rest of the bridge LOL

At some point during all this we cut to Timeless Rain Castle, where everyone is preparing for the drop mist ceremony. The prince’s closest advisers decide to go up and visit, and it’s revealed that the prince isn’t ill at all–he’s trapped within a little metal doll’s body, a curse placed upon him by Hippocrates’ “rival”. (He’s a good guy tho too, apparently.) This rival has been asleep for a long time, and is nearly impossible to wake because of how hectic his magic is. (We later see a scene in which several guards attempt to rouse him. His house is literally sitting on the edge of a cliff on one corner, the rest of it floating in the air, and he’s sleeping. No wonder they’re cautious about waking him up LMAO) Because this other magical user has been asleep, the prince has been trapped in this form for nearly a year. They scramble to find out a way to revert him to normal before the ceremony the next day.

After that it seems to be easy going for the girls. Pipo warns them nanoseconds before they drive off another bridge–and land in a giant lily pad! They’re on a huge pond now, with koi fish the size of whales. Pipo douses himself with magic dew that lets him breathe underwater and makes sure his clothes don’t get wet. Chii happily jumps in after, and Akane, after hesitating, also joins them. They ride the giant fish, who push the lily pad with their car across the pond. Akane picks up some sea shells at the bottom of the pond and puts them in her pocket to save for later.

Akane, Chii, and Pipo (and Hippocrates, still a fly) finally arrive at Sakasatongara Market!! First they have to go through customs, in which they’re judged by a group of talking cats (which Chii finds HILARIOUS). Akane is declared as a guilty party bc a few days before, she’d pulled her cat’s tail for sitting on her face. Her cat is revealed to be the leader of the group. She’s briefly given a cat tail herself, which is pulled on, so she understands how much it hurts LOL while Chii teases the rest with catnip and treats. They’re allowed entrance into the city. From the distance, they can see the prince arriving as well, presumably in the royal carriage. They have no idea he’s still in doll form.

In the prince’s tent, Hippocrates’ rival finally arrives. (Guess they managed to wake him up lol) The others beg for him to turn the prince back to normal. The wizard points out that the doll they’ve been guarding so carefully all this time is, in fact, not the prince at all. He uses his magic to transform it–revealing that it had just been a stuffed toy, acting as a decoy. Everyone panics, wondering where the actual prince has gone.

Akane and Chii gaze on as Pipo points out the well where the drop mist ceremony takes place. Sitting in the center of the city (which is p much set up like a giant stadium, with steps leading down to the middle), the well is a huge symbol of peace for the land! And it’s a central part of the ceremony, as well. Chii rushes off to bargain and barter while Akane and Pipo go to enter the old lady’s sweater into the contest.

As they’re walking around, they catch sight of Doropo, who just stole goods from a nearby shop. Pipo orders Akane to chase after him, which she does. As they follow him to the outskirts of the city, Pipo realizes that Doropo might be one of his friends from school, another chibi sprite named Ron. Ron had gone on to apprentice with the wizard, and Pipo with Hippocrates, so Ron had always viewed them as rivals.

On the outskirts of the city, Akane and Pipo see that the armored mouse is there. Moved by her own determination, Akane sneaks into the machine to see what Doropo and Zan Gu’s plans are. Hippocrates follows them in.

They catch a conversation between Doropo and Zan Gu. Zan Gu seems to be getting increasingly frustrated and hasty, and Doropo keeps blowing him off. Zan Gu eventually snaps at him, and the truth comes out. Apparently they plan to destroy the well before the ceremony can take place. If this happens, no water will come to Wonderland ever again, essentially dooming everybody. Zan Gu had gathered the missiles and upgraded the machine with a cannon to achieve this. Zan Gu blames Doropo for everything that happened to him, saying that while Doropo is obviously hesitating, he had been the one to transform him into a monster in the first place. Doropo sadly admits that he just didn’t want the prince to hate him…and this is the part that hit me HARD because we realize that Zan Gu has been the prince this whole time!! We get a flashback to when the prince was actually trapped inside the doll. He angrily says to Ron that if he could allow him to speak, he could turn him back, right? Ron makes an attempt, but he’s not that experienced with magic, so it ends up in a total disaster, transforming the prince into a basic corpse.

It’s at this point where things are set into motion. Akane eventually reveals herself. Pipo calls out Doropo on his disguise, and he transforms back into Ron. Zan Gu prepares to bust through the city walls and destroy the well. The wizard releases all of the magic Doropo had caused, making Hippocrates transform back into his regular self. Zan Gu busts into the city, and Hippocrates tries to stop him. Right as he’s lining up to take the shot at the well, Akane grabs onto him and starts her Grand Heroine Speech. She points out that Zan Gu–the prince–was scared, and that’s why he was doing this, because he was trying to run away from his responsibility. The prince explains his story in detail.

The drop mist ceremony, being a very important one among their family for generations, had been successfully performed by his father and grandfather. However, pressure from his parents, peers and all of Wonderland was too much for the prince to handle, so he started to reject any practices of the ceremony. After his parents passed, that pressure became even worse, because he was the only one left able to perform the ceremony properly. He got angry and scared and started to push everyone away and lash out at those who tried to help. Eventually it got so bad that the wizard had to come in and use his magic to transform the prince into the metal doll, essentially trapping him there as punishment and as a way to reflect on his mistakes. This obviously angered the prince, being trapped in a body that couldn’t move or speak, which eventually led to Ron’s involvement and his transformation. The prince wants to destroy it all, either out of revenge or maybe because he just has little to no empathy in this form and is only full of negative emotions, who can say…

Akane goes on to encourage him again despite all this, and tells him he’s not alone, that she promises she’ll be there to help him. She tells him how inspired she’s become traveling through Wonderland, getting to meet all of the wonderful people, and seeing how beautiful it is. She says she wants to save it, and that she wants to help the prince. Her words, and her change, break the curse on the prince, transforming him back into his adorable princely self. The prince agrees to perform the ceremony. Chii meets up with the group and apologizes to Akane for leaving her alone to deal with everything. Akane asks Hippocrates if they can make another momentum anchor for the prince, because the one she has helped her a lot along her journey and pushed her in the right direction, and she feels like that’s what the prince needs, too. Akane promises to return the next morning before the ceremony to be there for the prince.

Hippocrates, Akane, Chii and Pipo travel back to the alchemist’s house. Together they spend the night making a new momentum anchor, which requires a lot of magic. Akane gives it her all to help! They successfully make a new one, and hurry back to Sakasatongara Market. It’s morning now. Akane rushes to greet the prince, and gifts him with the anchor. She says that they match now, both having anchors. (The prince gets all soft and blushy and it’s very cute.) The prince talks with his adviser, who warns him what will happen if the ceremony fails. The prince knows it’s a huge price to pay, but says he’s ready to do it.

Akane is dressed up in Green Goddess robes, similar to the ones her mother wore. She and the prince cross the bridge which hangs over the well, which is so deep that you can’t even see the bottom. With Akane’s encouragement, the prince performs the ceremony. Nothing happens. The prince knows what has to be done–he strides up to the edge and prepares to throw himself in. Akane understandably freaks out and tries to stop him. The prince explains that if the ceremony fails the performer has to offer their body as a sacrifice to make water flow again. Akane’s like I’m NOT letting you do that, and the two of them start to struggle. The prince manages to make it to the edge–and Akane topples over with him. Both of them fall into the well.

Before they hit the bottom and inevitably die, they’re saved by the wizard. He explains that it was basically a sort of test–the prince had to show he was willing enough to make a sacrifice that big. He says that Akane is special, and that the prince should thank her properly for all her help. They’re sent back up to the bridge! The ceremony begins, and the prince rushes to get into position. The well erupts with water, straight up into the sky, an enormous geyser for all the world to see. The prince takes out his sword and starts to slice the water with it, which turns them into water birds. The water birds fly all over Wonderland and rain down on the land, restoring its vitality. He turns to face Akane to see that she is crying in joy, as is Chii.

After the ceremony ends, Akane and Chii go with Hippocrates and Pipo to return to their world. Akane frets over how much time has passed since they left. Hippocrates explains that, while three days have passed in Wonderland, only three hours have passed in their world. Akane and Chii realize that if they were ever to return, everyone they met probably wouldn’t be there anymore. Apparently the original slab with the hand print Akane’s mother had made was repaired–and Akane stumbles right into the wet plaster, printing her hand there for the next generation. She attempts to give the momentum anchor back to Hippocrates, but he tells her that it had vanished a long time ago, and that Akane had been moving forward by her own momentum and decisions. Akane and Chii kiss Pipo goodbye, and they say their farewells. Hippocrates gifts Akane with a little textile with a sword on it. They head back…and emerge from the basement of Chii’s shop. When they look back at it again, it’s just the storage compartment, and nothing else. Their adventure is over.

Chii goes to take a long nap. Akane rushes home to see her mother. By now she’s made the connection that her mother was the original Green Goddess of the Wind, who saved Wonderland over 25 years ago. Her mother notices the textile and compares it to the same one Akane has in her room. Akane thinks that she feels a lot closer to her mother now. And that’s where the movie ends!

Ofc there’s tons of extra stuff that I missed LMAO but that is the basic plot of the whole thing. Now, as for the AU…Izuku is Akane, obviously, but instead of having her reluctance to go on an adventure, he’s willing, but doesn’t think he’s worthy of being a hero to anyone, and is constantly stopped because of his own fear.

Ochako is Chii–she fits perfectly with her personality lol. Iida is Hippocrates, both being super punctual and easy to fluster. Kirishima is Pipo, and Bakugou is Ron/Doropo–good fits with their characters, and also. Kiribaku moments? *eyes emoji* Todoroki is obviously the prince/Zan Gu! In the AU I’m probably going to extend things a bit further, so Izuku and Ochako stay in Wonderland a bit longer, and Todoroki falls in love with Izuku >:’D As for the smaller roles, I haven’t really decided those yet. Toshi is probably going to be the mayor, and Nana as the old lady. I’ve gotta rewatch the movie again to help me decide on the rest :’D

Buuut yeah! I’m gonna take a lot of liberties with the AU and expand on the movie waaay more, and try to fill in all the plot holes. A lot of the narration felt really abrupt so I’m gonna have fun weaving it all together so it flows! And tons of Tododeku moments because uh YEAH

That’s all for now!! If you’ve got more questions hmu, I’m super down to chat about this more!

[penaltybox14]

@zeitheist​ @darknight-brightstar​ confronting trauma is a complicated process.

Josiah is better at the confrontation than he is at the breathy afterward, better at the fists and the fight than the sweating come-down.  He has only ever known how to throw himself headlong into the fray, letting good sense chase after like a hound at the horses' hocks. 

It's a long, long way back to Wynantskill from Little River, and he feels too formal in his dress coat and fresh-blacked boots, the gorget he wears so rarely hanging like a lead ingot off his neck, sitting like a cat on his chest, marking every breath.  It makes him think of the days after he woke, after the world came down on him, in the hospital ward as white as divinity, thinking he was dead, except it hurt too much. 

Cleary - and that, too, seems too formal, as heavy as the clod-hoppers and the denim and duck-canvas walking clothes the asylum gave him - sits quietly beside him, sinking into his stiff jacket and the carriage seat and the lengthening shadows.  The boy has been quiet as a little church mouse from the time they got on the carriage, to the time they reached the train station, and he's quiet still as the train lumbers and sways along toward Albany.

Josiah has been a long time out of the house and the bunkroom, and he feels like he's forgotten what it's like to settle into a restless night with the Sear moving like a spirit among the beds and bodies.  He has forgot how to pick the calm out of the trembling city air like stars in a coal-thick sky.  Cleary's all jumbled and tumbled up, every jolt a spark and every flash of afternoon sun a flame.  His mind is like a rack of kindling, soaked in kerodiesel.

If I were a captain, he thinks, I'd have something to say.  If I'd earned it, I'd know. The pins and the patches and the posting mean he ought to know.  But his mouth is dry, and the boy's sear touches him like the humid, sour smell of fever.  Like the dreams in Bellevue, where Silky prayed over him, like the dreams where Silky pulled him out from under the hot and pulsing bones of that house, like the dreams where he lay in cool water on the cobbles and thought: the horses.  I got to groom the horses, now. 

The little fellow's black hair is too long, uncombed.  There is a snarl behind his ear.  He needs a bath and a week of milk and potatoes. 

"I'm a fireman, son.  You ever met a fireman?"

A long pause, soft as a dandelion.  "They came to our house."

The house with the long green lawn and the wide black lake.  The house with the emberous eyes. 

The house with the bones, sagging and snapping in the heat.

"I'm from the City.  City Fire.  I train recruits in Wynantskill, that's near Troy and Albany.  We teach firemen there."

The boy looks out the window at the disappearing countryside.  It doesn't seem possible, but he looks to be sinking deeper into his clothes.  His eyes are sort of glassy again.  The heat's rolling off him in waves.  The thoughts are sinking in some mire, and Josiah feels hollow in a way he hasn't since he got his captain's coat and pins at St John's Hall.  His brace was brand-new and so was half his bones and it took all his will and thensome to stand up through the ceremony, to set his jaw against the gaping stares of other men, to look the Chief and Deputies in the eye while his ravaged body sang a chorale of bells and burning.

"I didn't mean it." 

Josiah's heart skitters.

"The home.  With all the kids.  I didn't, honest to God, I didn't, I wouldn't have hurt them, I wouldn't - it just - it sort of happened - I just - I only wanted to - I was looking - I couldn't - couldn't find - " The boy's thoughts beat at him like a flock of birds, a hundred thousand frantic feathers and a hundred thousand shrieking beaks.  " - I only wanted - "

Nineteen, when the world was his, his and his mates, when the sun serenaded them and the moon cheered them lustily even when her back was turned and tending the stars.  The biggest of the house's horses was a dapple-gray half-percheron gelding.  It took two men, on stepstools, to groom the old boy. 

When I get my own house, Silky is saying, from years ago, I hope it's in Manhattan. 

Passing a brush over the gelding's back, Josiah says, why would you want to be down near all those old oakbellies at HQ?

I don't.  I just want to send my teams flying down Sixth avenue.  Really shake 'em up.

Pass me that soft brush back, willya?

What about you, Birchy?

I want to be anywhere far away from your driving.

The night-time, the sound of the horses, the dirty fingernails.  The creaking of the house.  Water sloshing in a bucket and Silky chuckling softly.  He couldn't see his 'mate, over the great gelding's back, but he was there, of course he was there, where he always ought to have been, where he always would be.

" - I wanted - "

The night-time and the trading of dreams.

So he puts his hand over the boy's, softly, like he imagines a captain would.  The sigil on his sleeve belies it. 

Don't cry, he thinks.  Little fellow, don't cry, you're home soon. 

If he were Eddy, even Lufty Parker, he'd be able to crack the rusted sluicegate of his jaw and stammer it all out.  But he can't, so he just holds the boy's hand, until he slides against him and the tears make tracks on his dirty cheeks like water fills up the spaces between the cobbles.  The moss and grass grow there in secret, he knows, for he's lain there enough times in a daze to see it. 

"You wanna hear a story?  Well, lemme tell you one anyhow."  He bites his lip.  "Once, a real long time ago, when the City was brand new - before it was the city, even - there weren't any firemen.  There was just some people and some buildings and some horses.  People building the city."

The country is dark now, and the inside of the train coach is gently lit by little electric lamps that flicker as the train hits grade crossings and soars over bridges.

"And then the fire came one night, and it tore up the city, just ate it all up, and this one guy, he tried to fight it but he couldn't.  It was just him.  And the second night, this horse came - a big, white horse - and the horse said to the man, the fire's coming, but we're going to fight it together.  Horse said, you're going to be the first fireman.  So the fire came, and the man and the horse fought it together, and they chased the fire off but the horse's legs were black from the fire and his back was all gray with soot.  So the man cared for him all day."

Young Cleary's stopped snuffling.  Maybe he can hear old Eddy's voice in the telling.  Maybe he can picture Kidder Parson nodding along. 

"And then the third night, the fire came back, and it was mean and laughing, and it was gonna eat up the whole city and the first fireman and the horse too, and the horse said to the fireman, you got to listen up with your whole heart: you got to call out to your brothers.  You call them, you sound your bells and they'll come, because you're the captain.  So he called them: he rang hell's bells and church bells and he listened and they came: they came bringing buckets and dragging lines and riding horses and driving wagons and carrying ladders, and then they all fought that mean ol' fire together, and they beat it out."

The shy voice pressed in his ribs asks: "Does it come back?"

"Of course. Fire always comes back.  Just like the sun goes down and the moon comes up and they dance around the sky together.  But when we're all together, we're stronger, and we can beat it out.  We can hear each other call out, even when we're not there.  We can see where it's gonna go before it gets there."

"I couldn't see anything.  Then I was outside."

Josiah nods.  He can only see half his reflection in the coach's window.  The night seems very thin of a sudden, like frost. 

"The fire's gonna come back.  It comes back, you said.  Mother and papa, and Eloise, they're never going to come back, but the fire will."

The boy's no fool for lies. "Yes."

"Why fight it, then?  If it comes back?  It'll all just eat us up in the end."

It's late, and his leg feels like it's caught in a bear trap, like his brace is held on with nails.  He feels a kind of fury lurking, and he isn't sure whose it is, because it might be the boy's, or it might be the same rage that chased him up and out of Bellevue all the way upriver. 

"Why, then?  Why?  Son, you wanna live locked up in that little room all alone in just your unders, year in and year out, while the rest of them look at you like you're crazy?  I can't bring your family back, no more than I can straighten my leg out or unblack the dapple's legs.  I'm just giving you a shot.  A chance - you won't ever have to be alone again, David Cleary.  Isn't that worth it?  Isn't that worth a why?"

The ache is a dismal, wretched thing.  It doesn't go away. 

"Yes sir," the kid sighs.  "Yes, I suppose it is."

There's still an hour til Troy, and another half-hour by carriage to the gate.  Gonna be a long night, gonna be a long forever.

[imagines-by-billie]

Have Courage and Be Kind.

Request: Are you taking requests? Coz if you are could you do one AU where it's basically the plot of Cinderella (2015) I just love that movie so much and that ballroom scene is a dream of mine💗 thank youuu

A/N: This one is sooooooooooooooooo long! It’s insane and it took an entire afternoon to make! I hope you like it as much as I do! Thank you for making me watch the movie! It was amazing!!!

Warnings: family death, angst

Masterlist

Since the day you were born your father had used no other word than “Beautiful” to describe you. He always said you took after your mother. And your mother always agreed.

You remember running around in the garden as a child, feeding all the animals and talking to them. 

“Do you still believe that animals listen to you?”, your mother asked with an amused look.

“Well, of course mother! You said so yourself!”, you answered with a smile and gave Gus Gus, the biggest mouse that was always hungry, a little corn piece.

“Mhm, we look after them. Maybe one time in the future they’ll help us in the most helpless situations.”, she smiled.

“If we take care of the animals, who takes care of us?”, you asked with a curious look on your face.

“Fairy godmothers, of course!”, your mother answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You heard hooves against the gravel and turned around excitedly.

“Y/N! I’m home!”, you heard your father shout.

“Father!”, you ran up to the carriage and watched as your father stepped out.

“How have you been, my angel?”, he smiled.

“I’ve missed you!”, you pouted.

“Can I make it up to you?”, he asked and pulled out a box from behind his back. You took it in your small hands and looked back up at him.

“What is it?”, you grinned.

“Open it, you’ll see.”

You opened the tiny green box and a paper butterfly popped up. A giggle escaped your lips as you closer inspected the butterfly.

“Do you know what they call this in french? Un papillon.”, you father said with a big smile.

“Un papillon...”, you smiled up at him.

“That’s right! Now come on, dance with me my little princess!”, he said and you followed suit.

A couple years later your mother fell ill. You walked into the room where your mother was laying. The doctor had just diagnosed her, there was nothing he could do.

“Mother...”, you cried as you came closer.

“I need to tell you a secret, my darling.”, she said weakly and you nodded, “No matter what, have courage and be kind. Y/N, you have as much kindness in your pinky finger as one person has in their entire body. You have immense power with just that.” You nodded your head and tried to not let the tears fall from your eyes.

“Now, Y/N, I need to go soon. I don’t want to but I have to. Can you promise me you’ll have courage and be kind, my princess?”, your mother had tears in her eyes as she asked you this simple request.

“I promise...”, you said before collapsing against her chest, “I love you...”, you muttered.

“I love you too, my darling...”, she said as you felt your father wrap his arms around you both.

Many years after your mothers death you had grown into a woman. You weren’t the little girl crying by her mothers bedside anymore but you still kept your promise to her. Have courage and be kind.

One day after reading a book to your father, he turned to you nervously.

“Y/N... I... I need to tell you something. I know it’ll be hard for you but... there’s this woman. She’s recently been widowed and I...”

“You want to take her in?”, you continued his sentance.

“Uh... yes. I can make her life better, I can bring her...”

“Happiness.”

“Yes! Happiness! It’ll be like a new chapter in our book, Y/N my darling. She’ll be your step-mother.”, he said and calmed down when he saw your smile.

“Of course, father. Whatever makes you happy.”, you smiled.

And so the day came where your new step-mother were to come. Both you and your father were standing by the door, waiting for the widow and her two daughters, Drisella and Anastasia. The widow’s name was Lady Tremaine and even though she had gone through so much grief, she wore it awfully well.

“Welcome!”, your father said and helped the women out of the carriage.

“Wow, your hair is amazing!”, Drisella told you.

“You should style it.”, Anastasia continued.

“Oh, thank you... I can show you around if you like!”, you smiled kindly.

“What does she mean?”, Drisella asked Anastasia as if you weren’t there right in front of them.

“I think she wants to show us around her farmhouse.”, Anastasia cackled.

“Do you think they have animals inside?”, Drisella snorted back.

You showed nothing but kindness to them, despite the way they acted and so did your father.

Your new step-mom was eager to bring life to the house again, throwing parties ever so often. You weren’t very fond of these parties so you went into another room and tried to calm down. That’s were you found your little mouse friends.

“Hello Jaques, Gus... and Mary too! How have you been?”, you smiled kindly down to your tiny friends. That’s when you heard a hiss behind you.

“Oh... hi Lucifer...”, you said to the black fluffy cat, “Come on now, these are my guests and we do not eat house guests.”, you said and lifted up Lucifer and pushed him up the stairs.

“Cat food should be enough for you.”

When you looked back at the mice it was almost like they were trying to thank you with their beety little eyes.

“No problem, we have to look out for each other.”, you smiled and walked into your father’s office.

“You’re missing out on the party.”, you joked as you walked in.

“I couldn’t care less.”, he chuckled in response, “I’m leaving in the morning.”

“You’re leaving? But you’ve only just come back!”, you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I know, Y/N...”, he stood up, “Just promise me you’ll treat Lady Tremaine and her daughters with kindness, okay? Just like your mother told you.” You were quiet for a while.

“Do you miss mother?”, you asked suddenly.

“With all of my heart... but you have to remember that she’s still here. Even if you can’t see her, she’s here watching over you.”, he smiled, “Now, what do you want me to get you while I’m gone. Your step-sisters wanted lace and parasols.”

“Give me the first branch that touches your shoulder.”, you smiled.

“That’s a strange request.”

“Let it remind you of me evertime you look at it... and when you come home, you’ll be with it. And that’s all I really want, for you to be home...”, you cried and your father embraced you.

Once your father went away your new family became very cold, but you kept your promise and treated them with kindness. You helped around in the kitchen, in the garden, really anywhere you could help out.

But then came the news. You waited eagerly for this weeks letter from your father. But instead one of the worker came up to you.

“I have some bad news...”, he said, “Your father... he became ill on the trip and he has... he has passed away. He wanted me to give you this.”, the worker held out a branch to you.

“Where’s my lace?”, Drisella asked.

“And where are my parasols?”, Anastasia questioned.

“Can’t you see that that’s unimportant?”, your step-mother answered them, “How are we going to support ourselves?”

Your step-mother took you aside one day to talk in the livingroom.

“Y/N, darling.”, she said with a condecending voice, “Drisella and Anastasia are getting so cramped in their shared room.”

You watched as the two sisters walked by, screaming at each other.

“They, can have my room. It’s the biggest besides yours and father’s.”, you smiled, “And then I could stay in-”

“The attic! What a wonderful idea.”, She smiled.

“The attic?”, you asked to see if she was being serious.

“Yes. The attic. Then you can bring all of your fathers... decorations with you.”, she looked at the many things that your father had taken with him from his trips.

“Of course, step-mother.”, you said softly.

“Oh, there’s no need to call me that. Madame, will be fine.”, she grinned.

You moved a couple things of your father’s up to the attic that was high up in the stone tower.

“This isn’t so bad...”, you sighed as you put down your things, “Atleast I’ll get to be alone.”

You pulled out a bed and put a blanket over it. Then you tried to pull up a chair but heard squeals when you lifted it. It was the mice!

“Is this where you guys have been hiding?”, you asked with a giggle and the mice let out happy peeps.

“Then I guess I won’t be so lonely after all!”, you smiled.

Your step-mother fired all of the servants to save money. Even though you were pretty sure you had enough to support everyone. They made you do the dirty work instead, told you that it would take your mind off of the grief you were dealing with.

You did as they said and showed nothing but kindness to them. Sometimes it would be too cold to sleep in the windy attic so you’d sleep by the fire place to keep yourself warm.

The next morning when you woke up, it was because your step-mother walked in.

“Why isn’t breakfast ready yet?”, she asked with a stern voice.

“It is, I was just tending to the fire...”, you lied and got breakfast ready at their table.

“What’s that on your face?”, Anastasia asked as she inspected you.

“I think it’s ash!”, Drisella cackled as she sat down, “You’ll give us cinder if you keep looking like that.

“Ooh! I have a new nickname for you then!”, Anastasia grinned as she sat down next to her sister, “Cinderchild!”

“No that doesn’t sound good...”, Drisella answered as you put down your own plate, “Cinderella sounds better!”

“Whose that for?”, your step-mother asked.

“It’s for me...”, you answered.

“Oh no, you don’t have time for that right now. You can’t make breakfast, clen and have time to eat with us, Y/N! Or should I say... Cinderella?”, she looked at Drisella with a grin.

You took your plate and walked out of the room. Your eyes found your reflection in a copper plate and you saw how the ash was scattered around your face.

You snatched a towel to yourself and dried your face off before you went out to the stable and grabbed a horse.

You didn’t need a saddle or anything, you just started riding away from the house. Into the beautiful forest that surrounded it.

“Woah, woah!”, you said as your horse stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a large deer. The antlers were so big he looked like a tree.

The deer lowered his head to you, looking as if he was going to attack.

“Hey...”, you said calmly, “It’s alright I won’t hurt you.”

Suddenly you heard other horses and mens voices shouting. They were hunting...

“Go! Go on! Run away before they catch you!”, you hissed at the deer and as you looked into it’s eyes, it was like it thanked you before running off.

With that your horse started running away too, completely out of your control.

“Calm down!”, you tried to steady him but it didn’t work, he only went faster.

“Are you okay miss!?”, you heard a man shout behind you.

You couldn’t seem to answer but eventually the man made it up next to you and calmed your horse down.

“Are you alright?”, he asked, his curls messy on the top of his head. His brown eyes gazed deep into yours and were full of worry.

“I could’ve handled that...”, you said with a deep breath.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself?”, he said calmly.

“I’m not by myself. I’m with you now, aren’t I?”, you grinned.

“What do they call you?”, he asked with a curious smile playing on his lips.

“That doesn’t concern you, sir.”, you said, “What about you? What’s your name?”

“You really don’t know who I am?”, he asked and you shook your head no, “I’m-... I’m Shawn.”

“Shawn? And where does Shawn live?”, you smiled.

“In the palace, I... work there.”

“Oh, so you’re an apprentice? I am too.”, you smiled.

“You could say that...”

“Do they treat you well?”, you asked, just to see if every apprentice gets treated like dirt under ones shoe.

“They treat me too good then I deserve, in my opinion.”, Shawn chuckled, “Do they treat you well?”

“... a good as they can, I suppose.”, you said softly.

“Oh, I’m sorry...”

“It’s not your doing.”, you answered quickly.

“Not yours either, I bet.”, he smiled sadly.

“It’s not so bad... others have it worse, I’m sure.”, you said and watched as his smile grew wider, “You must simply have courage and be kind, musn’t  we?”

“Yes... you’re right.”, he grinned brightly, “That’s exactly how I feel.”

That’s when you heard the hunting sirens.

“Can you promise me not to kill the deer?!”, you asked hopefully.

“... we’re hunting. That’s what you’re supposed to do.”, he said.

“Just because it’s what you’re supposed to do doesn’t mean you should do it!”, you pleaded.

“... right again.”, he chuckled ever so slightly.

“Then... you’ll leave him alone, won’t you?”, you sighed, content.

“I will...”, he promised.

“Thank you very much... Mr. Shawn.”, you giggled quietly.

“Ah, there you are Your High-”, two men on beautiful horses rode by.

“It’s Shawn! Shawn! I’m Shawn”, he shouted nervously, “I’m on my way!”

“Well we better get a move on... Mr. Shawn.”, they laughed.

“As I said, on my way!”, he said to them but didn’t break his eyecontact with you.

You let out a chuckle and watched as he slowly made his way over to them, still not breaking eye contact.

“I hope to see you again, miss.”, he said.

“And I you.”, you nodded.

He smiled before finally riding away. You could hear his laughter as the horse took him further and further away from you. It sounded like bells to your ears. Your bottom lip slipped in between your teeth to hide the smile that was growing on your face.

“C’mon...”, you said to your horse and made your way home.

At the castle Shawn went directly to his father.

“You speak as if you are the first to ever meet a pretty girl!”, he laughed.

“She wasn’t a pretty girl! Well, she was a pretty girl but there was so much more to her!”, Shawn debated.

“How much more? You’ve only met her once!”, his father chuckled as the doctor kept checking him.

“You told me you knew right away when you met mother!”, he explained.

“Yes, but that was different! She was a princess!”

“You would’ve loved her anyway...”, Shawn muttered.

“I would’ve never seen her, because it wouldn’t be appropriate!”, he sighed, “And my father would’ve told you what I’m telling you! And I would’ve listened!”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Yes I would!”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would!”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“You’re right...”, he admitted.

There was a pause as the doctor stopped checking on Shawn’s father.

“Well, how is he?”

“Your Majesty...” the doctor started.

“Never mind.”, the king said, “It doesn’t take that long to say it, I already know.”

“Father...”, Shawn sighed.

“Come on, we’ll be late.”, he sat up, “The punctuallity is the-”

“Politeness of princes.”, Shawn continued with a smile.

Shawn walked into the painting room as his father talked with the artist and the other men who were going to “help him” find a princess for him to marry.

“If I were to marry, why can’t I just marry a simple country girl?”, he asked hopefully.

“These are dangerous times and we need to conect our kingdoms.”, his father answered.

“Well, if so can I make a suggestion?”, Shawn started and everyone nodded, “Don’t only invite the noble to the bal. The war has put the people through grief, we should try to make them happier.”

“Would that please the people?”, his father turned to the other men.

“It’s beyond me, Your Majesty. But, I wouldn’t say no to it.”, the man chuckled a bit, “I wouldn’t mind a bit of a jolly!”

“Then we’ve made a bargain. A bal for the people. And a princess for the Prince.”, another man said.

“Sounds like a step in the right direction if you ask me...”, the painter muttered under his breath.

“We didn’t ask you.”, the King answered.

“Right, sorry.”

Instead of riding home you decided to make your way to the town. There you found one of your fathers old workers.

“You don’t look very well, miss.”, she said with a worried expression, “Why do you stay there when they treat you so bad?”

“Because I made my mother and father a promise. To cheerish the place we were so happy in.”, you sighed, “They loved our house and... now that they’re gone I love it for them. It’s my home.”

“Hear ye! Hear ye!”, a man in silly royal clothes shouted, “In two weeks from now there shall be held a royal bal! At this ball the prince shall choose a bride!”

You smiled at your friend and she smiled back before looking back at the announcer.

“Further more! On the prince’s command every maiden in the kingdom, royal or not, shall attend! Such is the command of our most noble King!”

You immidietly went home to tell your step-sisters.

“What?”, Lady Tremaine shouted, “A bal!?”

“Can you imagine me as a princess?”, Driselle gasped.

“Oh Lord!”, Anastasia cheered.

“Listen up girls, one of you will have to win the heart of the prince so that we can pay off our depts once and for all! Cinderella!”, Lady Treamine shouted.

“Yes, Madame?”, you asked carefully.

“Go to town. Ask the seemstress for three gowns, right now!”, she smiled, of course not because of you.

“That’s very kind of you.”, your hope grew.

“What do you mean?”

“To get a dress for me-”

“Oh, mother, she thinks the dresses are for her!”, Driselle and Anastasia cackled.

“Oh no, Cinderella. I want you to get three dresses. One for Driselle, one for Anastasia and one for me. Go on now!”

Shawn was in the middle of practice when the thought of you being at the bal caught him off guard again. The captainst sword was now against his neck.

“You’re getting slow, Shawn.”, the captain chuckled.

“I’m sorry...”, he said as they made their way through the other knights training, “It’s just this girl...”

“You speak so highly of her... do you think she has a sister?”, the aptain nudged Shawn in the sighed.

“I don’t know... I don’t know anything about her!”, he sighed, a smile painted on the lips from the thought of her, “What am I going to do if I see her tonight?”

“Tell her that you’re a prince and make her your bride. You’re a prince, you can have any bride you want.”, he chuckled once again.

“Tell that to my father...”, Shawn stifled a laugh.

The dresses had finally been made in those two short weeks and you were helping your step-sisters put them on.

They were chatting as you tried your best to help them put it on. The only thing you could think was how sorry you were for them. They were truly rotten from inside and out.

Once you finished helping them put on their hideous dresses you walked up to the attic where your dress was. You had made it yourself, with a bit of help from the mice that is.

It was so close to done, you just had to put some extra detail onto it.

You heard Lady Treamine gush over her daughters down stairs and you rolled your eyes.

“You look so beautiful! One of you might just snatch the prince!”, she laughed, “No one in the kingdom could out-shine you.”

You walked down the stairs with your newly sewn dress on and coughed to get their attention.

“Cinderella?”

“It cost you nothing!”, you explained quickly, “It was my mother’s old dress, I fixed it up myself.”, you smiled.

“... after all I’ve done-”

“I don’t want to ruin anything! I don’t even want to meet the prince!”, you pleaded.

“Oh you won’t! Because there’s no way you’re going.”, Tremaine said.

“But all of the maidens of the land are invited...”, you tried, “By order of the King.”

“It’s the king that I’m thinking of. It’d be such a shame on us if we took you to the palace dressed in these rags.”

“Rags? This was my mother’s dress...”

“Then your mother’s taste was certainly questionable.”, Driselle and Anastasia giggled.

“It’s so old fashion it’s practially falling to pieces.”, Tremaine said and ripped the shoulder, “The shoulder’s fallen off!”, she gasped.

They started ripping apart your hard work, into nothing but rags on your body.

“... how could you?”, it came out as a whisper.

“How could I not? I can’t let my daughters be seen with you.”, the horrible woman laughed in your face, “I can’t let them see a servant girl with my daughters! Because that is what you are, and will always be!”

Before you could say another word she cut you off.

“Mark my words! Don’t you dare go to the ball!”, she hissed at you, much like her cat always did.

And so they went off in the carriage, leaving you alone to cry in the house. You ran out to the well, trying to stop them but to no avail. You collapsed there and cried.

“I’m sorry mother!”, you cried, “I’m sorry! I said I’d have courage but I don’t! Not anymore... I don’t believe anymore!”

You ran as fast as you could in your rags, into the garden the only safe space you knew.

“Excuse me miss...”, an old woman appeared, “Can you give me just a little crust of bread, or even a cup of milk?”

“Oh... yes... yeas of course, I’ll try to find something...”, you dried you tears.

The lady watched as you looked around.

“Why are you crying?”, she broke the silence.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”, you smiled the best you could and poured her a cup of milk.

“Nothing? Nothing... what is a bowl of milk? Nothing...”, she grumbled, “But kindness makes it everything.”

You watched as she drank the milk, a little of it sippered out. She downed it so quickly you had no time to think. The lady burped and you tried to stifle your giggle.

“Now, I don’t mean to hurry you. But you really don’t have long, Y/N.”, she said carelessly.

“What? How do you know me..? Who are you?”, your breathing got heavier.

“I who thought you would’ve worked that out.”, she laughed, “I’m your fairy godmother!”

“You can’t be...”, you smiled, “It’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“They don’t exist? They’re just a fairytale for young children.”, you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Didn’t your own mother believe in them? Don’t say no, ‘cause I heard her.”

“You heard her...”, all the air seemed to leave your lungs.

“Fiddle faddle, fiddle faddle... alright, first things first.”, the lady stood up and walked over to you, “Let me slip into something more comfortable.”

She threw the staff that was keeping her standing in the air. You watched as it glowed, spreading glittery dust across the garden. A gasp escaped your lips at the sight of it.

The staff transformed into glass and silver and as soon as the lady caught it, her hideous looks turned into something so beautiful you’d never seen before. She looked ethereal. Her rags turned into a beautiful light blue dress and her gray thin hair was now beautifully styled in a blond bob.

“That’s better!”, she sighed, “Now, where was I?”

“How did you..?”

“Oh right, what we need is something that will do as a carriage...”, she looked around the garden.

“How about that thing?”, you pointed to a wooden plank.

“Doesn’t really say carriage, does it?”, she looked at you with a smile, “I’m feeling vegtebles... do you have a pumpkin?”

“Yes, they’re over here...”, you led her over to the pumpkins you had grown.

She took the biggest pumpkin she could find and carried it out to the garden. There she placed it and made it grow atleast ten times bigger. You watched in awe as she swung her wand around.

Suddenly it exploded, turning into a golden carrige. Your mouth hung open in amazement.

“There, one carriage.”, she sighed, “Now where are those mice?”

She pointed her want at your tiny friends and you watched them transform from grey mice into big white horses.

“Now, you need someone to drive the carrige... hello lovely lizards! Bibbity boppity boop!”, she pointed her wand towards two lizards that were running around.

They turned into real men, with royal clothing. Their skin was slightly green but they were fine never the less.

“I need that coachman...”

“Coahman?”

“Did I say that? I meant goose!”, she pointed her wand towards the goose and transformed him into a chubby little fellow.

“I can’t drive, I’m a goose!”, was the only thing he said.

“Come on now! We don’t want to be late!”, she ran out of the garden and got everyone in front of the house.

“Fair godmother, wait!”, you said.

“What?”

“My dress... can you fix it?”, you asked hopefully.

“Fix it? No no no, I’ll turn it into something new!”, she grinned already thinking of a design.

“No, please don’t. It was my mother’s and I want to wear it to the palace. It’s like taking a piece of her with me.”, you explained.

“I understand... but would you mind if I change it a bit? Maybe some blue..?”

“No...”, you shook your head with a smile and with that she swung her wand towards you.

Your destroyed dress got surrounded by butterflies and you felt something in you, almost like a laughter that you’re trying to hold back. Your feet lifted from the ground as shimmer and glitter surrounded you. Your dress turned into a gown and when you landed you just gaped at how beautiful it looked. It still had elements from your mother’s dress but now you looked like an actual princess.

“There!”, she smiled.

“It’s beautiful...”, you smiled back, “My mother would love it.”

“Come on now, you don’t want to be late!”, she clapped her hands excitedly and got you to the carrige.

She stopped you once you were about to step inside.

“Are those your shoes?”, she asked with a disgusted look.

“It’s fine, no one will see them...”, you smiled.

“No no no, step out of them.”, she said and you did so, “I’m pretty good at shoes.”

With a swing of her wand your feet got covered in glass heels, they were absolutely gorgeous.

“They’re made of glass?”, you asked.

“Yes!”, she smiled happily, “You must go now!”

“Wait... my step-sisters and-”

“They won’t recognize you. I’ll make sure of it.”, she smiled motherly, “Now of you go! You’re going to a bal!”

They all helped you into the carriage and your fairy godmother was about to walk away when she stopped dead in her tracks with a gasp.

“Y/N, you must know that my magic can only hold out until midnight! At the last strike at midnight, everything will return to what it was before.”

“Last strike at midnight?”, you asked and she nodded, “That’s more than enough time.”

And so the carriage started moving.

At the bal the announcer were shouting out names and kingdoms left and right. Shawn couldn’t care less, he was just looking after the girl from the forest.

“Who are you looking for?”, his father asked him.

“... no one...”, he answered.

“It’s the girl from the woods, isn’t it? That’s why you were generous with the invitations.” At the mention of her, Shawns smile grew wider.

“It was for the people...”, he lied.

“I know you love the people. But I also know that you’ve fallen head over heels. You’ve only met her once... in the woods, you know?”

“You would have me marry someone I’ve only met tonight.”, Shawn chuckled.

“She would be a princess, Shawn. It’s different.”, he sighed.

“May I present Miss Chelina of Zaragoza.”, a man spoke to Shawn.

Shawn kissed the womans hand.

“You’re as handsome as your picture... and you’re little kingdom is as beautiful as I’ve been told.”, she smiled.

“Well, I hope our princess won’t find our kingdom too confining.”, he answered with a sarcastic tone.

Just as they announced that he was to choose his first dance partner the doors opened again.

All the heads turned to look at her... and she was beautiful. Shawn felt a smile spreading on his lips... it was the girl. She made her way down the stairs, careful not to fall. He excused himself from Chelina of Zaragoza and walked down to the people, to meet with his first dance.

He watched as she bowed and kept walking down the stairs. Their eyes met once she made her way down the stairs. Everyone parted and made a path from him to her and that’s when he got to see all of her.

Shawn couldn’t care less about what she was wearing but it certainly fit her very well. She was breathtaking. He was quick to make it over to her.

“Mr. Shawn.”, she smiled.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”, he smiled back.

“Just so.”, she said softly.

“If you... It would give me the greatest pleasure if you would let me lead you through this... first...”, he was at a loss for words.

“... dance?”, she completed his sentance.

“Yes, dance.”, he chuckled “That’s it...”

She nodded and he put his hand on her waist ever so carefully. Shawn watched as she tried to hide the gasp that had escaped her lips. The music started and he oved her around.

“They’re all looking at you...”, she whispered.

“Trust me when I say that I’m not the one they’re looking at.”, he said softly.

As they danced around the ballroom their eyes stayed locked to one another and their light touches turned into needy grabs whenever it was possible.

Then finally they got to be close, Shawn’s hand landed on her waist and her hand landed on his shoulder. Their free hands intertwined with one another and they were so close they could feel each other’s breaths against their lips.

Shawn got more daring and spun her around, never loosing sight of her.

When the dance ended they bowed but never stopped looking into each other’s eyes.

He kept dancing with her for the next dance... well, atleast for a while.

“Come with me...”, he whispered in her ear.

Once you were out of the ballroom you turned to look at him again.

“So you’re the prince?”, you laughed.

“Well, not the prince... I’m a prince but there a plenty of princes in the world.”, he said as he closed the doors behind him.

“But your name isn’t Shawn?”, you chuckled.

“Oh no it is, only my father calls me that when he’s angry with me.”, he chuckled.

“So you’re not an apprentice?”, you took a deep breath, trying to calm down from dancing.

“I am! I’m an apprentice to the king!”, he laughed.

“Oh God...”, you sighed as everything became very real. You turned your back to him and walked into the well-decorated room.

“Please forgive me. I was afraid you’d treat me differently if you knew. I mistook you for a country girl and now I see you didn’t want to scare off a plain soldier.”, he explained.

“There’s little chance of that.”, you stifled a laugh.

“No more surprises?”, he asked and held his hand out to you.

“No more surprises.”, you agreed and took his hand softly when your eyes were caught on the painting behind him, “Is that you?”

“I hate portraits of myself, don’t you?”, he chuckled as you inspected the very well made portrait. It was of Shawn, on a horse, holding up a sword.

“No one’s ever painted my portrait.”, you shook your head slightly.

“Really? They should.”, he looked at you and you smiply couldn’t tear your gaze away from his eyes... his honey brown beautiful eyes...

Shawn managed to get the two of you out of the castle and into the garden after avoiding a couple guards.

“Won’t they miss you at the bal?”, you asked as you looked up towards the starry night sky.

“Maybe... but let’s not go back just yet.”, he said as the two of you walked along the gravel. You kept stealing expectant glances his way and you noticed something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”, you asked, there’s was still a smile playing on your lips.

“When I get back they’ll try to pair me of with a lady of their choosing... I’m expected to marry for advantage.”, he sighed.

“Oh, well... whose advantage?”, you asked.

“That’s a good question...”, he and you both chuckled.

“Surely you have a right to your own heart...”, you said as you both stopped walking, stopping at a balcony that over looked the kingdom.

“I must weigh that against the King’s wishes.”, he shook his head and leaned against the stone hedge, “And he’s a wise ruler... and a loving father.”

“Then, perhaps he’ll change his mind.”, you suggested.

“I... I fear he doesn’t have much time to do so.”, he swallowed hard. Your heart dropped into your stomach as the words left his lips. You knew excactly what he was going through and you couldn’t bare seeing him this sad.

He quickly changed the subject and started leading somewhere else in the garden.

“I’ve never shown this place to anyone.”, he smiled, his hand still intertwined with yours. He opened a wooden door which was hidden behind rose bushes among the large stone hedge.

“A secret garden!”, you exclaimed. There was a wooden swing hanging from a tree, surrounded by all kinds of beautiful flowers and bushes.

“Oh, I love it!”, you gasped as you walked around.

You walked up to the swing, remembering your childhood in a garden that was very much alike this one.

“Sit.”, Shawn smiled warmly.

“Oh no, I shouldn’t...”, you giggled.

“You should.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”, Shawn stifled a laugh and with the sound of that, how could you say no?

“As you wish...”, you bit your bottom lip to hold back a smile. You went around the swing and sat down. It didn’t even make a creek.

“Can I?”, he asked, referring to pushing you on the swing.

“Of course...”, you whispered soflty, for only him to hear.

He pushed you gently and the swing started moving. You let out a giggle as the wind started blowing in your hair. Your foot graced the ground and your glass slipper fell off. Before you could even stand up Shawn was in front of you, picking the slipper up.

“It’s made of glass...”, he pointed out.

“Yes, why not?”, you giggled.

“... alow me.”, he said and motioned for your foot.

“Of course...”, you smiled and peaked out your foot from the big blue skirt.

He slipped the glass shoe back on your foot so effortlessly that he barely even had to put any strength into it.

“There.”, he smiled back up at you.

“... there.”, you repeated as the swing moved you a little bit closer to him. You thought he was going to kiss you but instead he asked:

“Can you tell me who you really are?”

“If I do then everything will be different.”, you shook your head and looked down at your hands.

“I don’t understand, can you atleast tell me your name?”, he pleaded.

“My name is-”, the bells started ringing, signaling that the clock had striked midnight. That’s when you remember what you fairy godmother told you.

“I have to leave.”, you took a deep breath, “It’s hard to explain... lizards and pumpkins and... things.”, you laughed slightly as you got up from the swing and ran towards the door.

“Wait!”, he shouted after you, “Where are you going?”

“You’ve been awfully nice! I’ve had a wonderful evening, I loved every second of it!”, you said before running off.

“Lizards and pumpkins...”, Shawn grumbled to himself as he watched you run off before eventually running after you.

You ran as fast as your legs could take you, out of the garden, into the portrait room and into the ballroom where everyone was still dancing.

You kept saying “Sorry!” as you past by everyone, just trying to get out in time! The prince came right behind you but was caught up with your stepsisters immedietly when he got out on the dancefloor.

As you ran up the stairs you almost ran into the King himself.

“Your Majesty!”, you breathed out, “I’m so sorry!”

“Think nothing of it, dear.”, was all he could say before you ran off again, only stopping a couple feet away.

“I wanted to say, Your Majesty... your son Shawn is the most wonderful man I’ve met. So good and brave. I hope you know how much he loves you... excuse me!”, you said and ran out of the room.

You finally made it out to the final stairs that went up to the castle and you were quick to run all the way down. A little too quick, one of your slippers fell off.

“Wait!”, you heard Shawn behind you and you turned around, “Where are you going!?”

You couldn’t care less about the slipper so you ran down the rest of the stairs with only one shoe left.

“Hurry! Hurry!”, you said to the people around your carriage.

“Come back!”, Shawn tried but there was no use.

You were already in the carriage when he had only gone down half of the steps.

Shawn picked up your glass slipper.

“Captain, my horse.”, he said with a big grin on his face.

“No! This may be a trick to lure you away from the castle! Your father needs you here.” Shawn watched as the Captain and a couple other men got up on their horses and started riding after the girl he had fallen so madly in love with, without even knowing her name.

The last strike of midnight hit and as your fairy godmother said, everything turned back to normal. Luckily you had gotten away from the guards before the transformation. But now you had to walk home in your rags, since all the magic was gone.

The only thing left was your glass slipper, which you immedietly took off. Everything was supposed to turn back to normal, but since the shoes were nothing before they were made they stayed the same.

You let the mice crawl into the shoe so that they wouldn’t have to run after you.

“You’ll find it very comfortable.”, you smiled as you watched them crawl in.

There was only a little bit home before it started raining. Your dress got soaked in a matter of seconds and so did your hair.

Still, you laughed because what a wonderful night you had gotten.

That’s when you heard horses behind you... and your step-family’s nagging. You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the worst.

Once you got inside you hid the shoe in the ash by the fireplace.

“Cinderella! We want tea and biscuits!”, your sisters complained.

“Welcome back!”, you said with a smile, hiding your dirty hands behind your back.

“You look cheerful...”, Drisella commented.

“And wet.”, Anastasia added.

“Oh, I took a walk in the rain... to cheer myself up!”, you lied.

“Typical!”, Anastasia sighed, “Tea, now!”

Then they started talking about what a wonderful time they had with the Prince. Talking about how they didn’t even have to say a word, their souls just connected.

“He didn’t even speak to you...”, Lady Tremaine said as she walked in.

“It wasn’t our fault, mother, it was the girl!”, Drisella said.

“The mysterious princess!”, Anastasia added.

“Mystery princess?”, you smiled, “How charming...”

“She wasn’t a princess! She was a greedy little girl who tried to be something she’s not.”, Lady Tremaine said.

“Oh?”, you turned around to face her.

“The vulguar young hussy walked into the bal, and to the horror of everyone threw herself to the prince.”, Lady Tremaine rolled her eyes. You heard them talk on and on about the “Mystery girl” and you couldn’t help but to smile to yourself.

“Nothing to worry about. The prince it promised to Chelina of Zaragoza...”, Lady Tremaine added and your heart dropped once again, “I heard the captain speak of it.”

Once they were in bed you took the shoe out from the ash and put it in a safe space in the attic.

“Hello again.”, you smiled to the mice before putting the shoe down in the box, “Thank you for your help. It really was like a dream... better than a dream.”

You took up your journal and started writing about the night, everything that had happened, so that you could remember every single bit of it.

Shawn walked into his father’s room to watch him laying on his death bed.

“Oh good... you came...”, his father managed to breathe out.

“Father... don’t leave me...”, Shawn whispered.

“I must... but you don’t have to be alone. Marry princess Chelina.”, he said hoarsley, “I should’ve commanded you to do so.”

“I love you and respect you... but I will not do that.”, Shawn sat down next to his father, “We don’t need to search beyond the kingdom’s borders to find strength and guidence. All that we need is right here. We only need to have courage and be kind to see that.”

“Just so.”, his father whispered, “You’ve become your own man. Good. Then perhaps what little time that is left I can be that father you deserve.”

“You shouldn’t marry for advantage.”, Shawns father continued, “You should marry for love. Find that girl, find her. The one everyone’s talking about, the forgetful one, the one that-”

“Lost her shoe.”, Shawn ended and laughed along with his father.

“Be cheerful, my boy.”, he said to Shawn.

“Thank you, father.”, Shawn whispered back.

“Thank you, Shawn.”, he smiled, “I love you, son.”

Shawn felt the tears burning in his eyes, but he wasn’t going to let them fall.

“I love you, father...”, still one tear managed to slip out, going down his cheek. Shawn laid down on his fathers bed and the King closed his eyes one last time.

“Hear ye! Hear ye! Hear! Ye!”, the announcer spoke, “Our new king now declares his love! For... for the mysterious princess who wore glass slippers to the ball!”

Your heart started racing as you watched your step-sisters pout and complain.

“And if she’d be willing... he will... marry her!”

You left your stepsister at the town and ran over to your horse. Quickly you made your way home and walked up to the attic to find the shoe.

... but it was gone.

“Are you looking for this?”, your step-mother held up the glass slipper in the light, “There must have been quite a story to go with it... please do tell! No? Okay, then I shall tell you a story... once upon a time there was a beautiful young girl who married for love. She had two loving daughters, all was well. But one day, her husband, the light of her life died.”

You tried your best to go closer to it, but you were afraid she’d drop the shoe.

“The next time she married, she did it for her daughters. But that man too, was taken from her. And she was doomed to look every day upon his beloved child. She had hoped to marry off one of her beautiful, stupid daughters to the prince. But his head was turned by a girl with glass slippers. And so I lived unhappily ever after.”, there were tears in her eyes, you had never seen her cry before... not even at your father’s funeral, “My story has ended. Now, tell yours. Did you steal it?”

“It was given to me.”, you stammered.

“Given to you?”, she laughed, “Nothings ever given to you! You must always pay, pay, pay!”

“That’s not true! Kindness is free... love is free.”, you told her.

“Love is not free.” she stood up, “Now, here is how you will pay me, if you were to have what you desire. No one will believe that a servant girl has touched the prince’s heart. But with a respected gentlewoman pushing you forward, you will not be ignored. When you are married, you’ll make me the head of the royal house hold. My daughters will be paired off with wealthy lords and I shall manage that boy!”

“He’s not a boy!”, your face expressed disgust.

“Who are you? How would you rule the kingdom? Best to leave it to me. That way we all get what we want.”, she said and walked past you with the shoe.

“No.”, you said with a rise of confidence.

“‘No’?”, she turned around to face you.

“I was not able to protect my father from you. But I will protect the prince and the kingdom.”, tears were burning in your eyes, “No matter what becomes of me.”

“Well that is a mistake.”, she said and broke the shoe against the stone wall.

“No!”, you screamed, “Wh-Why? Why are you so cruel!? I don’t understand it! I’ve tried to be kind to you!”

“Kind to me?”, she laughed.

“Yes! And no one deserves to be treated the way you have treated me! Why do you do it? Why!?”, you shouted.

“Why? Because you are young and innocent and good! And I...”, she turned away and went out of the room.

“No! No!”, you cried as she locked the door to the attic.

Lady Tremaine took what was left of the shoe to the castle.

“Where did you find this?”, the general asked.

“A simple servant girl gave it to me.”, she said.

“The mystery princess... is a comoner?”

“You could imagine how horrified I was!”

“You told no one else?”

“Not even my own daughters. No one need ever know the truth.”

“Thank you. You’ve gotten the kingdom out of embarrassment.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Are you threatning me?”

“Yes. I want to be a countess. And I aquire marriages for my daughters.”

“Deal... and the girl?”

“Do with her as you will. She means nothing to me.”

“Where?”, Shawn asked the general as he held the glass slipper in his hand.

“Abandoned on the road.”, he answered.

“And have you found her?”, he asked.

“No, she’s disappeared.”

“There must be some reason she vanished...”, Shawn sat down on the throne, “Perhaps she has been prevented from speaking...”

“Don’t lose hope, Shawn.”, the captian said.

“On the contrary. Lose hope and become wiser. The people need to know that the kingdom is secure. Therefore we need a queen.”, the general spoke.

“I’m king. I say we shall seak out the mystery princess. I have to see her again, I don’t care if she doesn’t want to be found!”, Shawn siad sternly.

“If she’s not found you have to marry princess Chelina. For the good of the kingdom. For the good of the people.”

“Very well, aggreed.”, Shawn nodded.

“But your Highness...”, the captain started.

“You will spare no effort.”, Shawn told the general.

“No, your Majesty.”

After searching high and low the guards got to your home. You had heard all about the search from your step-sisters and now was finally the time.

Maybe, just maybe, you could try to get to the guards. Even if she didn’t, it didn’t matter. The memories from the bal was enough for you and as long as the kingdom didn’t get endangered by your step-mother everything was well.

You sat down by the window and started singing for yourself. With amusement you watched as the mice helped one another open the window.  And so you kept singing, maybe just a tiny bit louder than before.

Shawn looked on as the general tried to brush off the fact that you could clearly hear singing coming from the tower. He had enough and took off his disguise.

“Enough, general.”, he spoke and everyone turned to him.

“Your Majesty... I-”, the general started.

“You told me you’d search every last corner. And here you are dismissing something so obvious.”, he got down from his horse, “Captain!”

“Yes sir?”

“Would you mind searching through the house one last time?”, Shawn grinned.

“With pleaser, Your Highness.”, the Captain grinned back.

The door opened to your room and you quickly stopped singing.

“There.”, your stepmother said, “Nothing of importance!”

“We’ll se about that, madame.”, the captain said, “Miss. You are aquired to present yourself in front of the King.”

“I forbid you!”, your step mother hissed towards you.

“I forbid you to forbid her. Who are you to stop an officer of the King? Are you an empress? A saint?”, the Captain asked.

“I am her mother!”, Lady Tremaine said so as if she was offended.

“You have never been, and never will be, my mother.”, you told her.

“Come now, miss.”, The Captain said and you followed him out the door.

Would you be enough just by yourself? There was no magic that could help you this time. The only thing you could do was to wait and see. Have courage and be kind.

When Shawn laid eyes on you he knew that you were the girl he had been searching for. But with everyone watching he had to hold his composure. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched you bow in front of him. Only one question came up in his mind.

“Who are you?”, he asked.

“I am Cinderella.”, you answered with a proud smile, “Your Majesty, I’m no princess... I have no carriage and no parents. I don’t even know if that beautiful slipper will fit. But if it does, will you take me as I am? An honest country girl who loves you?”, your words reassured him that you were the girl he had danced with and the girl he had met in the woods.

“Of course I will.”, he smiled, “But only if you will take me as I am. An apprentice who is still learning. Please, sit.”

He watched as she let out a giggle and sat down. Shawn sat down on his knee beside her and held out the shoe. He slipped on the shoe with barely any effort and heard his future wife let out a sigh of relief.

Shawn looked up at her, their eyes met and they smiled brightly at each other. The two of them stood up and suddenly Shawn couldn’t help himself anymore.

He placed his hand on her cheek ever so softly and pressed his lips against hers. Except he only got the time to touch her nose with his.

“Y/N! Y/N, my dear sister!”, the two daughters ran into the room, “I’m sorry! So very sorry!”

When he looked over to them they bowed and Cinderella, or Y/N, smiled at him.

“Shall we?”, Shawn asked with a smile and Y/N nodded.

He took her hand and led her out of the room, the two sisters parted ways for them to go past. Right before leaving Y/N stopped and looked up the stairs were her step-mother was standing.

“I forgive you.”, she said softly and walked out the doors with Shawn.

You looked at the paintings of your parents next to Shawn’s with a warm smile. “They would’ve loved each other.”, you smiled.

“We really need to get a picture of you too.”, Shawn commented and squeezed your hand lightly.

“No, I hate to see myself in portraits.”, you giggled.

“Be kind...”, Shawn chuckled.

“And have courage...”, you continued.

“Then all will be well.”, he smiled.

The two of you walked up to the doors. You white wedding gown flowed behind you even though there was no wind.

“Are you ready?”, you asked him.

“As long as I have you by my side, I’ll always be ready.”, he smiled.

You both walked out onto the balcony together and greeted the people with big smiles.

“My queen.”, Shawns smiled and turned to you.

“My Shawn.”, you smiled back.

His hand was softly placed against your face before he leant in and kissed you. The people cheered and you felt the butterflies in your stomach go loose.

You kept looking at the world, not as it is but as it could be. With kindness, courage and just a little bit of magic.