#(her actions as queen suggest she didn’t turn her nose up at the power and influence)

[bforbetterthanyou]

Controversial opinion but I think there’s a better case for Elizabeth Woodville marry Edward IV because she was an ambitious social-climber than Anne Boleyn marrying Henry VIII but the reason people don’t think of Elizabeth in that way is because Edward wasn’t already married and Elizabeth was lucky enough to have many healthy children

[hlizr50]

Gwynriel Week Day 2 - Favorite Headcanon

Bow or Bleed

Read on AO3

-Gwyn-

Gwyn examined herself in the mirror, turning her hips and looking over her shoulder. She was technically covered, but also decidedly not, navy chiffon so dark it was nearly black waterfalled down her legs, the milky skin of her leg exposed by the hip-high opening. The top of the gown had long sleeves and a deep neckline past her breastbone, but it was also sheer – strategically placed beading and applique crept up her stomach and over her breasts. It was certainly the most scandalous thing she’d ever worn.

Azriel had warned her before the meeting with the High Lord, nearly three weeks before. Times were peaceful – something they were all thankful for – but Rhysand wanted to remind the denizens of the Hewn City of the Night Court’s might, introducing the new division of their defenses. Therefore, the three female leaders of the Valkyries were requested. Her mate had kept her hand firmly gripped in his for the duration of the discussion, and that silent support was just one of the many reasons she loved him. So was his deference to her decision. That was something that had been a little more difficult to achieve, the shadowsinger being as protective as he was, particularly where Gwyn was concerned.

They had discussed in depth what she would find in the Court of Nightmares and the expectations that came along with being in attendance in a position of power. And while, in the three years they had been together, they had explored any number of intimate situations and dynamics in the comfort of their private home, it was Azriel who had suggested that Gwyn be regarded as the dominant one of the two.

The inhabitants of the Hewn City know that I am to be feared. And I want them to see the woman who has tamed the infamous spymaster and cower. Not only from a perspective of your safety, but to be perfectly frank it would be incredibly arousing.

She had laughed at that.

And so Azriel and Gwyn had painstakingly discussed every detail, the two of them valuing preparedness and knowledge above all else. Where would they be expected to stand? How were they expected to interact with the rest of the inner circle and the Valkyries? He came with her to dress fittings, discussing how the fabric would move and working with the Valkyrie and the seamstress to ensure she looked tempting enough to draw attention, but covered enough that she wouldn’t be constantly pulling and tugging. They had even come home with a replica of the skirt so they could train together, for the unfortunate possibility that violence might become a necessity.

So here she was, with her chosen sisters, examining herself one last time before their entrance into the Court of Nightmares. When she looked up she found Nesta at her shoulder.

“Ready, Gwyn?” The redhead could see the faint glimmer of concern in her friend’s eyes.

A reassuring grin crinkled the freckles dotting the former priestess’ nose and the corners of her eyes. She trailed her fingers over the hilt of the dark blade sheathed at her thigh, drawing strength from its weight and the lingering power from the hands that wielded it. Gwyn nodded, the copper waterfall of her high ponytail brushing past her ears and cheeks.

“Let’s give them a show,” Emerie quipped with a smirk.

Gwyn regarded the two females that had been at her side, constant support and friendship and love over the past four years. Nesta was a queen in every sense, beautiful and dangerous, with a neckline that dipped even lower than her own. Her gown fit tight against her, black velvet rich and luxurious. She wore her weapon for everyone to see, the sword Ataraxia hanging from the black leather riding her hips. Her leg was also revealed by a near-indecent slit in the midnight cloth, the tightness of the dress pulling the ends apart and baring it for all to see.

And then there was Emerie, who had opted for pants, tailored just right to show off the strength in her legs. Black silk fell loosely from her honey brown shoulders creating lovely drapes over her front and baring her smooth muscled arms. The back of the garment only met at the small of her back, letting all appreciate the ripples and cords of muscle and the incredible wings that marked her as Illyrian.

Emerie smiled wryly, ready to intimidate, but it was Nesta who pushed open the wooden doors with as much force as she could muster. Gwyn was inwardly satisfied at the sound that cut through the cavern. She lifted her chin and fixed her gaze forward toward the raised dais, where the High Lord and Lady sat enthroned in dark power. She would not turn her gaze toward the shadowsinger as they strode in, footfalls synchronized as if they marched into battle. She kept her head lifted, near-arrogant smirk on her wine-painted lips.

But, Mother, could she feelhim. The flicker of power, the gold thread between them taut with heat and tightly coiled desire. Gwyn didn’t dare a glance, but she could feel the burn of his hazel gaze – likely now closer to molten gold – roaming over her.

The three Valkyries stopped at the foot of the dais, Nesta in front with Gwyn and Emerie at her shoulders. When they each fell to one knee before their High Lord and Lady, the copper-haired warrior could feel the cool, moist air prickling the skin of her now-exposed thigh. But she didn’t feel exposed, even with so much less of her covered than she was accustomed to. She didn’t feel weak, even as she bowed in the midst of this infamous court. She was a wholly different person from the quaking priestess that had been rescued from Sangravah, and it was this court that had helped build her up. She was a warrior, a Valkyrie, one of eight Carynthians to ever exist, and now she was a general. And through all that she had become a sister, friend, lover, and mate, and it was those bonds that truly gave her strength.

They rose and turned to face the court, and Gwyn did her best to observe nonchalantly. So many leering stares, expressions of disgust – so many fragile males opposed to the concept of powerful women.

“The Valkyries were legendary in the Great War, and we are pleased that these three females have resurrected their practice and built new ranks.” Rhysand’s voice was rich and dark, like the velvet that clung to Nesta’s skin. “As their skills have improved and their ranks have deepened, the Valkyries have been inducted as an official division of the Night Court defense. Even in times of peace we all know that it is imperative to remain dedicated and prepared. These three females join the ranks of my Inner Circle as generals, and they will be respected as such.” There was a pregnant pause after his statement, the court regarding the three of them, sizing them up. “Any word or action against them will be counted as a word or action against myself or the High Lady. And while all of the denizens of the Hewn City understand how I manage those slights, let them rest assured that these women will exact their own justice.” After one more glower over the crowd the females split apart, turning toward their respective mates.

That’s when she finally laid her eyes on the Spymaster of the Night Court, clothed in black leather and swathed in shadows. The angles and planes of his face, in this dark place, made him impossibly more beautiful. He was an imposing creature when he needed to be, and in the Court of Nightmares he would only be seen as this man of malice – an angel of death.

With near-glowing eyes fixed on her and her alone.

-Azriel-

This plan could have been a grave mistake.

Not because Gwyn wasn’t absolutely breathtaking and fearless, and not because he didn’t believe that any male would think twice before approaching her with the shadowsinger apparently on her leash.

No, this plan was very potentially a mistake because Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to keep himself from swathing them in shadows and ravishing her in the middle of the damned great hall as soon as she was within arm’s reach.

He’d known what the dress would look like on her tall frame – he had accompanied her to consultations and fittings, ensuring that his mate would feel comfortable and safe during this foray into the sinister underbelly of the Night Court. The inspiration for Amarantha’s domain not-so-long ago.

To say that the idea of Gwyn stepping foot in this place had given him pause would be a grievous understatement. His shadows had twirled around his wings in agitation when Rhys had informed him, but he also knew that his mate was not the same girl he had rescued from Sangravah those years ago. He had agreed to let her hear the request and decide for herself what she would do, and he would be happy to do everything in his power to ensure that she was prepared.

The female that faced him now was nothing short of a queen.

Azriel found himself thinking back through the times that he had been rendered breathless by her astonishing beauty – more times than he could count. The first time he’d seen her in the Valkyrie leathers he thought he might have to leave the room, lest he melt into a heap on the floor before her. Their first Starfall together his shadows had frozen around him as he remembered how to breathe, her dress and eyes outsparkling the heavens. The evening of their mating ceremony, where a simple silk shift had sent tendrils of inky mist dancing and had nearly set his soul on fire.

Before him was a warrior, confident and ferocious. And his. Her skin was moonlight against the darkest blue the seamstress could find, curves barely concealed beneath lace and beading that had been expertly placed to toe the line between demure and deadly. Makeup was not something the former priestess indulged in often, but the wine-red that painted her full lips tempted him to lick his own and the kohl lining her teal pools only seemed to set them ablaze. The high ponytail was somewhat unexpected, but it was the sight of the blade strapped to her thigh – so dark it seemed to absorb any light that dared touch it – that had the breeches of his leathers tightening considerably and his twirling shadows thickening.

Truth-teller.

Neither of them needed weapons to be deadly, but that didn’t mean they would venture into the Court of Nightmares unarmed. And there would be no better way to send a message to any who dared covet his mate than for her to brandish the deadly blade that was known throughout the continent.

Gwyn strode toward him, head held high. She had schooled her expressive eyes into cool indifference, something she had likely learned from him, but Azriel could spy a glimmer of mischief. She was enjoying this game, and he was more than content to play it with her. He lowered his chin and dropped to one knee as she approached, and his shadows could hear the whispers of stunned onlookers as the spymaster placed himself firmly beneath the Valkyrie in the hierarchy. A wry grin curled his lips as he watched those exquisitely formed legs come to a halt before him and the hand at her right hip present itself. He kept his gaze fixed on the speckled flesh of her knuckles as he raised his own scarred hand, cobalt siphon flickering, and grasped her fingers before leaning in to reverently press his lips to her knuckles. He could feel the golden warmth of her satisfaction in his chest, sparks of desire intermixed.

When he released her hand it moved to his face, two long elegant fingers landing under his chin and pulling it upward. Lifting his gaze, he found her face alight with fierce confidence.

“Shadowsinger,” she purred, applying more pressure to encourage him to rise before her. Their stares were transfixed in the eyes of the other as he did so, her hand only moving far enough to land in a possessive grip toward the back of his neck. He couldn’t hide the smirk that crawled over his lips, enamored as he was with the predatory confidence that she wore.

“My lady,” he murmured, dipping his chin. “You look absolutely exquisite.” The slightest pink blossomed on her cheeks, proving that she was not completely immune to his charm. She circled him and stepped up behind him onto the first stair to the dais, keeping her palm on is neck. He had to stifle a groan, reveling in her possessive touch and the heat of her at his back between his wings. Her breath snaked across his ear and his skin pebbled, her lips like a phantom touch over the shell of it.

“You are beautiful and dark, as always, love,” Gwyn whispered before dipping her chin and pressing those soft painted lips just below where the sharp line of his jaw met his neck. His breath shuddered and his mate gave a soft giggle. “Your shadows are quite… friendly tonight.”

“Well, lovely general, I can hardly be expected to control them when you make it so difficult for me to even manage myself,” Azriel breathed.

“Hmmm. You do make an excellent point.” She gripped his jaw and pulled it to the side to claim his lips with a bruising kiss. When she released him he nearly drowned in the teal pools that captured his gaze. He could see the challenge there, the desire, the pride. He loved when he could glimpse those things in her expression, when he could put those feelings there. Gods, the way it felt to bow before her, to be the one she trusted to submit to her will. It was a distinct possibility he wouldn’t survive the night.

“I know you have duties, Shadowsinger,” the Valkyrie stated softly, dropping her fingers from his jaw. His permission to leave her side, to stride through the shadows and dark corners of this hall to ensure that members of this court still understood the price of disrespect and the power of fear. He turned, tucking his wings tight to avoid striking her. He meant to look back into those piercing, starlit eyes, but his gaze caught on Truth-teller at her thigh. He lifted a mottled hand and settled his palm over the hilt, letting his callused fingers brush delicately over that tempting sliver of porcelain flesh. Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over the peek of skin just above his thumb.

“Wine, my lady?” He straightened and grinned crookedly at her flushed neck and chest. She dipped her chin in confirmation and he turned, striding into the throng of revelers. Hopefully his High Lord didn’t expect him to listen too closely. It was peacetime, after all, and he had to contend with every delicious image of Gwyn flashing through his mind. Hopefully his shadows would pick up on anything glaring and drag his attention out of the gutter.

He had retrieved two goblets and turned back toward the dais when he felt a twinge of anxiety in his chest, tightening the golden thread that connected the Shadowsinger and the Valkyrie. He weaved quickly in and out of the dark swaths in the hall, his shadows carrying to him the echoes of words between her and a yet-unknown male.

“…quite an actress, priestess…”

Azriel quieted the snarl that threatened to push through his lips as he rounded a pillar silently, finding Gwyn’s back pressed against it and the male – one of the darkbringers, he realized – doing his best to tower over her. He stayed silent, tucked into the darkness. He had vowed not to intervene until it became obvious that she couldn’t handle the situation. And while he had felt the moment of uncertainty in their bond, his mate looked calm and nonchalant – if not a small bit annoyed.

“Although I find it difficult to believe that a timid acolyte from the library sanctuary could best the Spymaster. They say the women in the great library have experienced great horrors, but perhaps if you warm the bed of the angel of death, you’re into that kind of thing.”

The male had lifted a hand to Gwyn’s face, making to touch her. And quick as the wind she had Truth-teller in her hand, blade against a particularly sensitive part of the male who thought he could dare to insinuate what he did, much less dare to touch her. Azriel saw the rage sparkling in her gaze, all traces of anxiety and annoyance gone.

“Think very carefully about the next thing you say,” she hissed. When the male tried to smirk and play it off she pushed the blade the slightest bit deeper, the edge biting into the leather of his pants. “I am a general. I won the Illyrian Blood Rite. I have bested far more intimidating creatures than yourself. So do ask yourself if you want to test your luck.”

Azriel’s lips twisted into a sadistic smile, basking in the glow of his mate’s strength. Her eyes darted to him for a split second, and the male’s eyes followed. The color drained from his face when he saw the rippling shadows twisting and rising like flames over his shoulders and wings. But a push against the dagger at his crotch shifted his attention back to Gwyn.

“Hear me now, brute,” she seethed. “I do not always keep my Shadowsinger so tightly leashed. And he does not take kindly to unimpressive, brainless males touching the female that he belongs to.” My Shadowsinger. The female that he belongs to. Mother above, those words went straight to his already-straining cock. “So I hope that little thrill that pulsed through your undoubtedly underwhelming dick when you thought you could intimidate me and bend me to your desires… I do so hope it was worth it.”

The male stepped away with hands raised, but the copper-haired queen kept her blazing stare on him, dagger still ready in her hand.

“Shadowsinger, I hope you have that wine,” she cooed, sheathing the weapon when Azriel stepped to her side. He offered her the goblet and then offered her an arm, muscles and shadows tremoring from barely contained fury. His instincts warred within him, an urge to rip the male limb from limb against the desire to whisk his mate into an alcove and plunge his tongue between her legs until she was screaming his name. He wasn’t sure if he had ever desired her with such a feral male pride, and from the heat blooming across her chest he could tell that she could feel that pulsing need through their bond. But her breathing was slightly more shallow than normal, and he remembered that nervous twinge he’d felt before she’d nearly castrated the man. The spymaster let them to a darkened corner, shadows swallowing them and hiding them from prying eyes and ears.

“Are you alright, songbird?” All pretense and games were gone, leaving only the soft voice of a protective male concerned for the love of his eternity. He took her wine glass and set both of them on the stone floor. When he straightened he pinned her with his gaze and raised callused fingers to trace the freckles on her cheek. Gwyn sighed a calming breath and leaned into his touch.

“Yes, love. I was nervous for a moment, but I think I handled things quite well,” she smiled widely. He released a dark chuckle of his own, stepping into her and pinning her gently against the wall. Azriel tilted his head and leaned down, pressing his lips against the sensitive space under hear ear. Nipping at it, then flicking his tongue over the spot to soothe it, smiling against her soft flesh as he felt her gasp beneath him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more aroused in my life, Gwyneth Berdara,” he uttered into her neck, voice low and guttural. He pressed his hips against her, letting her feel what she had done to him. “When you called me yours, when you said I belong to you… Gods, nothing has ever been truer.”

Azriel dragged his lips wantonly over her jaw toward her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip when he got there. He was on fire for her, every inch of him aflame with want for his warrior queen. He crushed his lips into hers, tongue beseeching. She gave in without pause, and he greedily pulled at her lips and tongue. He wanted to breathe her in, needed to taste her.

“Azriel,” she gasped, but he continued pouring himself into her, only stopping when her hands cupped his face gently. He pulled back and took in her swollen lips and lust-darkened eyes. “We need to behave, remember?” The shadowsinger groaned, earning a musical laugh from the Valkyrie. He leaned his forehead against hers.

“Fine,” he growled. “But as soon as we get home, rest assured, I will have you. And I want you to keep Truth-teller on that pretty thigh.”

Gwyn’s cheeks turned crimson and his throat rumbled with approval. He pressed a quick, hard kiss into her lips before stepping back, giving her some air to cool the heat on her face. Swiftly, he scooped up their wine goblets and offered his elbow to her.

“Ready to terrorize more unsuspecting males, my lady?” Azriel grinned wickedly, and she threw her head back, a cackle erupting from her throat. She tucked her starkissed hand into the crook of his arm.

“Always, Shadowsinger.” Quickly, before he let his shadows disperse, she pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

The bond burned golden fire in his chest, swelling with love and contentment and bliss. “I love you, too, Berdara.” He murmured, and then they were in the throng again, the music and revelry of the Hewn City swallowing them. He let his shadows wander and listen, but his attention was focused on his mate for the remainder of the evening. He marveled at her confidence, her strength, the pride she felt at being able to conquer this moment. Feyre may be his High Lady, but Gwyneth Berdara was his queen. And, if tonight was any indication, he would gladly bow before her for the rest of his immortal life.

[moonscriptsx]

Close to You (M)

SUMMARY: You had met him when you were seven, but you fell in love with him when you were seventeen. He had been everything you'd hoped a loved one should be; until he left. Now that you've reached your twenty-first birthday, you're thrown into a deal that your parents had made when you were just a kid — and that deal involved marrying the same man who had broken your heart so long ago.

GENRE/WARNINGS: Royalty!AU, Prince!Yuta; filled with angsty reunions, mutual (but secretive) pining, and fluffy smut.

WORDS: 24.1k.

A/N: This piece will forever hold a special place in my heart. Enjoy! xx.

In your kingdom, the princess’ twenty-first birthday marked a special day amongst the citizens. It was the day that she would be officially labeled as a woman, the day that she would be shown off to all of the available princes in hopes that she would find a probable suitor to join her on the throne the moment her parents - the king and queen - had decided to step down from their rule. It was supposed to be an exciting time; a time where she would be able to open herself up and meet the different people that were scattered within the elegant ballroom as she made her rounds to greet each and every guest-- but that didn’t seem to be the case for you.

The morning of your twenty-first birthday had been eerily too calm.

Your mother and father sat peacefully at each end of the table, the two of them eating their breakfast in silence as they awaited for your presence. You had still been groggy, your eyes wiping away the remaining sleep from them as you made your way into the dining hall. You opted to take a seat in the middle, your parents on the left and right of you at both heads of the table. You smiled tiredly at one of the servants as they placed your breakfast in front of you, a quiet ‘Happy Birthday’ falling from their lips as you placed your napkin on your lap.

You hadn’t caught wind of the knowing glances between your parents, your brain not fully awake quite yet. It was almost like the quiet before the storm -- and the damage that would come in its wake is certainly severe.

At the sound of your father clearing his throat, you sat up straight, your back resting against the chair as your head turned to look at him. At the time you hadn’t known that the smile he wore on his face was one of apology, the king folding his hands onto the white cloth of the table as he leaned forward.

“Firstly,” he had began. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Your mother and I could not be more proud of the woman you have become and we cherish you dearly.”

Smiling at his words, you nodded, egging him to continue.

“As you know, your twenty-first birthday is a special event. The kingdom has already begun celebrating within the streets and there are already gifts upon gifts piling up for you in the foyer. The actual celebration will take place here in five days so do make sure that you have everything you need or want picked out and ready to go for the festivities, there will be a lot of guests so you must make sure that you look your best - however that is not what I wanted to discuss with you this morning.”

At that, you had watched as your father’s face turned serious, tension beginning to grow in the air as he leaned down and reached beside him to grab a scroll that was placed next to his chair. Your body stiffened as you watched him slide the parchment towards you, your gaze shooting towards your mother as she gave you a sad smile.

“Years ago, my dear friend Taro and I agreed to make a deal concerning both you and his son, Yuta.” You couldn’t help but flinch at the mention of his name, your heart clenching as the cracks came to life. “Given King Taro’s current situation, it seems as if there is no better option than to proceed with the plans.”

A look of pity had crossed your father’s features as he looked over at you.

“It pains me that we have to tell you such a thing on your birthday, sweetheart. If we could’ve held onto it for a little bit longer that would’ve been so much better… But I’m afraid that my dear friend has much more at stake than we do.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your father’s words as your fingers delicately plucked at the seal on the parchment, your body filled with nervousness as you carefully unscrolled the document. The silence within the dining hall was almost deafening and you could feel your breath catch in the back of your throat as you scanned over the words printed on the scroll.

On behalf of both the (L/N) family and the Nakamoto family, this document solidifies the forthcoming union between Princess (Y/N) and Prince Yuta. The union will therefore unite the two kingdoms indefinitely, signifying a promise of protection between them as a powerful ally is born. However, this shall remain undisclosed until the Princess’ twenty-first birthday, where their marriage will then be announced. If the necessary actions of the deal are not met then --

You had stopped reading after the first paragraph, your eyes wide with anger.

Nakamoto Yuta.

Just the thought of his name made your heart shatter into pieces, angry tears pricking the corners of your eyes as they fell helplessly onto the parchment. How long had it been since you’ve heard that name? Since you thought of him? Since he broke your heart…

Your angry tearful-filled gaze had landed on your father, your body shaking as you tried to control yourself.

“No.”

Your voice had been cold, but the stern tone didn’t make your father falter one bit, the king standing his ground as he picked a piece of food off of his plate and ate it quietly.

“It’s not up for discussion, sweetheart,” he replied coolly, his gaze meeting yours. “The deal was set fourteen years ago --”

“What?!” Your voice had risen and you pushed your chair back from the table as you stood up. “You made this deal when I was seven years old?!”

From the other side of the table, your mother sighed deeply as she stood up and moved to stand beside you, her arm reaching out to gently grab yours.

“Take it easy, honey,” she began softly, making you break out of her grasp as you backed away from her. “Please, just, listen to what your father has to say. There are important things happening this week and we sincerely need you to be present and happy.”

You had scoffed at that, your head shaking in disbelief, but you stayed silent. Your gaze fell back on your father, his cool stature never faltering.

“How could you,” you seethed, glaring at the man. “How could you basically sell me to him? Him?! Of all the people you could’ve picked, you gave me him!”

“What’s the big deal, honey?” Your mother cut in, confusion written on her face. “I thought the two of you got along great --”

“Yeah, well we don’t,” you snapped, making your father look up at you with anger.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that --”

“I can’t believe you’re giving me away like this!” You cried out. “And on my birthday!”

“King Taro has been through alot in these past few years,” Your father said, nonchalantly. “I’m afraid that my dear friend has decided that his time of reign is coming to a close, so he personally reached out to me and asked if the deal was still on the table. Now I made sure to keep your feelings in mind --”

“Did you, though?” You asked, harshly, making your mother hush you immediately. Your father continued, however, completely disregarding your remarks.

“I figured it was much better to be betrothed to someone you actually know instead of a complete stranger --” he paused, shooting you a look of disdain. “But, clearly, I was wrong.”

You had frowned at your father’s words, the look on his face making you feel small as your shoulders dropped in defeat, remorse clouding your anger as you sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, your voice soft. “I had just thought that I would be the one to pick my husband. But, I guess in our life, things like that aren’t a choice.”

Your father’s face softened as the king stood up and walked over to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you in for a hug.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you hugged him back tightly as he spoke. “You know that if it had been anyone else I would’ve managed to get you out of this… But Taro needs this, he wants this.”

Leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, he rested his hand on your shoulder gently before drawing back.

“King Taro and Prince Yuta will be here tomorrow morning --”

“What?! --”

“They will be staying with us for three months so I hope that you will welcome them with open arms and treat them the way they should be treated. I also suggest that you give yourself time to get ready for their arrival, and I hope that you will be on your best behavior.”

And with that, he had given you one last kiss on your forehead before he left the room.

The first time you had met Nakamoto Yuta, you were seven years old.

You, your father, and your mother had all gathered around the front steps of the palace as the extravagant golden carriage had pulled up, the guards pulling the door open and revealing the family as they stepped out one by one. King Taro and Queen Nori were two of the most respectable and beautiful people you had ever gotten the pleasure to know; they were wise beyond their years and always had plenty of advice to give to those who needed it. Their hearts were full of nothing but love for everyone around them - an attribute that, no doubt, contributed to the success of their rule - and they always made sure to give their people as much as they could when it was requested for them to do so.

They were an honorable pair -- it was a wonder how they had managed to have a son who was the complete opposite of them.

Yuta Nakamoto had only been seven years old at the time but you knew that he was nothing but trouble the moment he had stepped out of that carriage. His lips had been curled up in disgust as he looked on towards the palace, his nose turning up in the air as he stood beside his parents.

“You call this a palace?”

His tone had been cocky, and you remember watching as his mother swatted at him, scolding the young boy to shut his mouth. That reaction alone had you curling into your own mother’s side, your face hiding behind her legs as you shied away from the family. It seemed like nothing was able to impress the boy; even as your family gave them a tour of the palace, Yuta’s dissatisfaction never faltered. He was, by far, the worst human you had ever encountered.

It seemed like each visit the fellow royal’s paid to your palace, the worse Yuta had gotten -- and the older you grew, the more you would fight back.

Snarky remarks were retaliated with sharp insults, the two of you fighting back and forth whenever one of you did something the other didn’t like. Your parents had joked that one day the two of you were going to end up falling in love -- and, god, you had wished that they hadn’t been right about that.

Never in your life did you think that you would’ve fallen in love with the bane of your existence. Never in your life did you think that the boy who tugged on your hair harshly and called you harsh names would be the one that made your heart race and your cheeks flush in embarrassment from compliments…

...Never in your life did you think that the person who you loved the most would be the one to shatter your heart into pieces.

It was almost like deja vu as you stood beside your parents on the front step of the palace, your breathing unsteady as you fought off the urge to cry. Your gaze is locked on the golden carriage as it stopped in front of the three of you, the guards walking towards it before they’re opening the door. The air is thick, the weather unusually chilly for early June, and you were thankful for your maids that had suggested you wear the jacket over your dress.

Straightening your posture, you watched as King Taro stepped out first, your eyes widening as you caught sight of the noticeably aging man.

The King had always been quite handsome; jet black hair, warm brown eyes, and a smile that seemed to rival the sun. He had been slightly pudgy, a feature he had always commented on saying ‘At least you know I’m eating happily!’. His looks had matched his charming and kind personality, but the man that stood before you today was nothing like that. Jet black hair was turned to a stark silver, his pudgy body completely gone, the King’s stature frail. The warmth in his eyes now held a sadness that almost made you tear up at the sight. The King’s smile seemed forced and you had wondered what exactly had made the man age so quickly.

He greeted your father first, the two men sharing a tight hug as they said their hello’s. Adjusting your weight from one foot to the other, your gaze shifted back to the carriage, and you really wished that you hadn’t looked that way.

Emerging from the carriage, in all of his glory, was Yuta. The fringe of his hair blew slightly with the wind, giving you a perfect view of his face, and you nearly choked back a sob as you fought to compose yourself. The last time you had seen him, his facial features were soft. The apples of his cheeks had been slightly puffy, but he had still been handsome. His nose was on the slightly longer side but it had complimented his face perfectly. Seventeen year old Yuta wasn’t quite that tall, either, but he certainly hadn’t been short.

But the man that had emerged from the carriage… You almost didn’t recognize him.

Much like his father, he had lost a considerable amount of weight. His puffed out cheeks were gone entirely, instead replaced by sharp cheekbones. In fact, he was striking himself. He’d grown taller since the last time you had seen him, his body thinned out, but you were able to catch sight of the definition of muscles underneath his shirt. You tried to look away from him, tried to ignore his presence -- but it just so happened that he looked towards you before you could take your eyes off of him.

You almost shivered - and it definitely wasn’t from the wind - the moment his eyes laid on yours, his gaze cold, and you didn’t notice that King Taro had stepped in front of you until you heard his voice, breaking your concentration away from his son.

“Hello, dear,” he greeted halfheartedly, and you had to keep the tears at bay when you heard the hurt in the man’s voice. Reaching out, you returned the King’s hug.

“Your Grace,” you replied, making the man chuckle as he pulled back.

“Oh, dear,” he patted your cheek softly. “How many times do I have to tell you - you are free to call me Sir.”

Stepping back from you, you sent him a small smile as you watched him return to your father’s side. Gazing past the King, you finally noticed the absence of the Queen, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you watched the carriage began to ride off to the stables. Holding your breath, you watched as Yuta greeted your mother with a rigid hug, your jaw clenching as your arms stayed frozen by your side. You could feel your heart clench painfully as the Prince stepped in front of you, butterflies forming in the pit of your stomach as his gaze settled on yours.

And then the memories flooded your mind.

All of the hugs, all of the kisses, all of the love you had felt for the man who was now standing in front of you -- it all came rushing back to you at full force.

You swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of your throat as you bowed your head towards him, your gaze falling to the ground, and you had hoped that that would suffice as a greeting but Yuta seemed to have other plans.

A bolt of electricity flowed through you as he grabbed your hand and brought it up to his face, his lips barely ghosting against the flesh of your knuckles as his gaze stayed locked on your face.

“It’s good to see you again, my love.”

My love.

Your skin felt on fire from just the simple brush of his lips against your skin as your gaze met his -- your breath caught in your throat as your heart sped up, Yuta’s grip on your hand tightening as he stared back at you...

...And then you snapped.

All of the repressed feelings you had kept in were suddenly letting loose, your lips tightly pressing together as the tears begin to fall. Turning your head away from Yuta, you hurriedly whispered to your mother that you had to use the bathroom before you excused yourself and made your way back into the palace.

The faint sound of music played softly from inside of the palace as you walked through the gardens, your gaze locked on the night sky as you stared up at the stars glistening brightly. The ball your parents were throwing had become far too much for you, the constant greetings you had to give to the guests making you feel stuffy each time you had met someone new, so you had taken the opportunity to escape when your father had gained their attention to make a speech about how happy he was that everyone had gathered together.

The palace gardens had always been your escape spot. The acres and acres of field filled with the variety of flowers filled you with a sense of peace and happiness, the colorful petals setting your mind at ease as you made yourself comfortable on the edge of the fountain. The setting was serene; the delightful smell of the plants mixed with the therapeutic sounds of the water giving you a sense of comfort.

The first time you had been granted the chance to experience the extravagant gardens, you were five years old. Your mother had told you that she wanted to show you her favorite spot in the castle and you - as a child - had thought that it was going to be somewhere within the castle walls. But the moment she had led you down the long walkway leading into the elegant entryway of the gardens, you were mesmerized by the sight before your eyes. The colorful aesthetics and refreshing smell had automatically made you feel a sense of warmth, the nature making you feel happily at home within the confinements of the gardens.

It seemed as if you were experiencing that all over again each time you had entered the gardens, the feeling never getting old as you would plop down underneath the large oak tree with a book just a few feet away from where you were sitting now. Leaning back against the bench, you breathe in your surroundings, letting yourself relish in the cool air that breezed past you.

“So this is where you escaped to.”

A deep voice startled you, your eyes snapping open as your head turned to focus on the grinning face of Yuta. He stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave you an amused expression. Sheepishly sending him a smile, you shrugged your shoulders and moved over on the bench, prompting him to take a seat next to you.

“It was getting a bit stuffy in there,” you admitted, making the Prince nod.

“Understandable,” he agreed. “But next time you should tell me where you’re running off to -- I got worried.”

His grin doesn’t falter as he nudged you playfully, a soft blush coating your cheeks as you bit your lip bashfully.

“Sorry,” you apologized softly, making Yuta chuckle.

“It’s alright, Princess,” he winked flirtatiously, making your blush deepen. “I found you, didn’t I?”

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, the only audible sounds being the soft whirring of the wind and the music playing from inside. Your gaze is locked on the sky, your eyes tracing over every star as you try not to pay attention to the weight of Yuta’s gaze on you. You can see him out of your peripheral vision, the Prince’s eyes tracing over your form, and you almost jerk in surprise when you feel his hand on top of yours, your gaze breaking from the glistening stars to land on Yuta’s smiling face.

“Care to dance, my love?”

Your heart sped up at the nickname, another blush coating your cheeks, before you nodded your head and let him help you stand. His fingers slid in between the spaces of yours effortlessly, his grip on your hand gentle as he pulled you towards him. The warmth radiated off of his body as the two of you pressed together, his free hand settling on your waist while yours rested on his shoulder.

Underneath the stars in the night sky, the two of you paid no attention to your surroundings, your gazes only on one another as you danced to the beat of the music. Your cheek pressed against his as you rested your chin on his shoulder, Yuta humming quietly in your ear as he brought you closer to him. The feathery touch of his lips against your forehead had you sinking into him, and you swore that he was able to feel the rapid beat of your heart against his chest as the two of you danced.

That had been the night you had began to fall for the Prince.

My love...

Yuta’s soft whispers of the nickname filled your mind, thoughts and memories of countless nights of the love the two of you shared together plaguing your mind as you choked back a sob. They replayed over and over again like a movie on repeat as you climbed the stairs, your vision blurred from the onslaught of tears streaming down your face, your breathing ragged as the hurt enveloped you.

You had barely managed to make it to the first floor when you stumbled into the library and slammed the door shut, you body collapsing against the wood as the tears fell freely down your face. Placing your head into your hands, you let the heartache consume you. You never thought that seeing Yuta again would affect you as badly as it did but the moment you had laid eyes on him, the memories that you had stored away decided to come back without any second thought.

When your eyes met his, you were instantly reminded of the warmth his gaze had held when he had looked at you so long ago; the gaze that was filled with nothing but love. The man you had seen just minutes ago was no longer the same person he had been when you had fallen in love with him -- the warmth in his eyes had been gone and he was stone faced. But then he had kissed your hand, the simple graze of his lips leaving you wanting more as they brushed the flesh of your knuckles.

A faint knock on the door of the library has you recomposing yourself immediately, your hands hastily wiping at the tears that drizzled down your cheeks, and you push yourself up off of the floor and dust your dress off before taking a deep breath. You had barely gotten it together before the door slid open, your gaze settling on one of your mother’s maids, her lips turning upwards into an apologetic smile before she curtsied.

“Sorry to bother you, your highness,” her voice was soft as she spoke and you forced a smile as she straightened her posture. “Your mother requested for you to join her, the King, and the guests for brunch. She also requested that you wear something appropriate for the occasion.”

Fighting back the urge to roll your eyes at your mother’s requests, you nodded obediently before following the woman out of the library, not in the slightest bit ready to deal with whatever it was that was going to happen.

Cursing silently to yourself, you held the skirt of your dress up as you glided down the staircase, the silky light blue material flowing freely behind you with every step you took. Your mother had laid out the garment for you by the time you had reached your room to get changed with her demand that you present yourself as the graceful Princess that she had raised you to be making you almost gag with irritation. The dress was beautiful, though. The light blue silk felt as soft as a feather on your body, the bodice of the dress covered in subtle silver crystals while the lace sleeves were off your shoulders. A pair of plain white pumps were adorned on your feet, the heels already pinching your feet as you made your way into the dining room, four gazes landing on you as you entered the room.

You could feel the tension in your shoulders as your gaze swept over everyone in the room, your posture straight as a board as you bowed politely towards your parents and King Taro, completely brushing off Yuta. The two Kings occupied the head of the table while your mother sat on the right of your father and Yuta was smack dab in the middle of all of them. Biting the inside of your cheek, you had hoped that you would be able to sit on the other side of your father when your mother’s voice rang throughout the hall, your stomach fluttering nervously as she pointed to the seat next to the Prince himself.

“Why don’t you sit next to Yuta,” her voice was stern, and you knew not to object when your mother’s voice held the authoritative tone. “You are getting married, after all.”

Your mother’s words made King Taro chuckle, the deep rumble reverberating off of the marbled walls.

“The two of them were inseparable the last time we were here,” he said, grinning. “Wherever one was the other would always be with them.”

You had made a move to pull the chair out when you felt a hand place on top of yours, an electric shock coursing through you as your gaze landed on Yuta’s. His eyes held nothing but distance and a feeling of coldness as he stared down at you, your throat feeling as if it’s going to close up from nervousness as you stepped back from him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Your stomach churned at the tightened tone of the nickname, hearing it the second time around most definitely did not have the same affect on you as it had the first time. Gritting your teeth, you say nothing back to him as you sit down on the chair, reaching forward to grab your utensils as Yuta pushed your chair back in towards the table.

An uncomfortable tension flowed between the two of you and you were pretty sure the three adults could feel it considering your father had cleared his throat to break the deafening silence, the King grabbing his wine glass before taking a sip.

“Taro and Yuta, it is such a pleasure and honor having you both back here. I was beginning to think that I was never going to be able to see you again.”

The silver-haired man took a bite of his food before he nodded at your father’s words, an apologetic smile crossing his lips as he looked up from his plate.

“My apologies for that, old friend,” he began. “Both Yuta and I needed some time for ourselves before we could get back into the flow of things once again.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the King’s words, but before you could say anything your father spoke up instead.

“That is completely understandable,” he nodded, agreeing with his friend. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for the two of you.”

Glancing between the two King’s, you finally decided to speak.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Sir,” you spoke carefully, the King nodding for you to continue. “What happened?”

King Taro’s face became solemn as the dining hall became silent, your father clearing his throat as the tension started back up. You felt Yuta stiffen next to you, his knuckles turning white from gripping the fork too tight, and you feel like crawling into a hole, afraid that you had asked the wrong question.

But then Taro is giving you a smile, and even though it didn’t reach his eyes, he still looked happy about the topic.

“I’m taking it as your father and mother haven’t told you?” He shot your father a look making the other King raise his hands up in defense.

“It wasn’t my place to say anything.”

A quiet ‘ah’ left Taro then, his head nodding towards your father in understanding before he’s turning back to look at you.

“About four years ago, my darling wife, Nori, came down with a sickness. Within those four years, she had her ups and downs with it until it, unfortunately, took her from us for good.”

Your eyes widened in shock at that and you couldn’t help but feel remorse and pity for the man, your hands folding on your lap as you sat back against the chair.

The drastic appearance of both the King and Prince finally made sense -- and your heart began to ache for the two of them. Knowing that they were by the loving Queen’s side while she was sick and in her last moments, knowing that they watched her deteriorate each and every day… It was no wonder why they both looked so completely different from before. The stress and emotional strain must’ve been far too much for them to handle.

Bowing your head, you keep your focus on the linoleum floor as you spoke.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you apologized softly, your gaze shifting towards the ground. “I had no idea --”

“It’s quite alright, dearie,” he reassured you, giving you a small smile. “Given that your father hadn’t informed you on anything I suspect that you were curious as to where she is.”

Sheepishly you nodded, making the King chuckle.

“While these past few years have been on the rough side, I have come to accept everything that has happened. My dear Nori was a one-of-a-kind woman, you know. She had the kindest eyes, the smartest brain, and a heart full of love. She was an extraordinary woman -- and she absolutely adored you.”

Taro’s finger pointed in your direction, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“In fact,” he paused, taking a sip of his wine. “She was the one who brought up the deal me and your father had made so long ago. It was her wish before she passed on -- she wanted what’s best for her son, and that is you, my dear.”

The way he spoke about his wife made your heart swell, the King’s blatant admiration for woman he loved so admirable and beautiful that you had to choke back tears. What made it worse was the fact that the Queen, herself, had asked for this -- that she had adored you so much that she wanted nothing more than for her son to marry you.

“I can see why she wanted you to be her successor,” Taro continued. “The more time we spend here, the more I realize that you are so much like her. You’re going to make a great Queen one day, dear.”

A fork slammed against the elegant dish and your head snapped to look up at Yuta, his expression unreadable as he stood up from the table and bowed.

“If you’ll excuse me,” his voice was rough, almost like he was holding back tears. “I think I’m going to go get some fresh air.”

Before he could walk away, however, his father’s voice stopped him.

“Take (Y/N) with you,” he said, voice stern. “The two of you should catch up, it’s been a while.”

“Oh, no, that’s alright --”

“Nonsense,” he waved you off, gesturing for Yuta to help you up. “The two of you will be married soon, you might as well bond a little bit before everything is set in stone.”

You opted to stay silent as you stood up from the chair, brushing off Yuta’s attempt to help you up, before you bowed and made your way out of the dining hall. An uncomfortable feeling slipped between you and Yuta as the Prince had caught up to you, his pace falling in step with yours as the two of you walked out onto the balcony and towards the gardens.

You could feel Yuta’s sadness radiating off of him, the stone-faced Prince staring straight ahead as the two of you walked down the cobblestone walkway leading to the gardens.

“I’m sorry about your mother,” you said quietly, making Yuta’s head snap over to look at you, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t know all of that was happening.”

“Yeah,” he pursed his lips, tone cold. “Thanks for that.”

His standoffish persona has you backtracking, your eyes widening at his blunt tone, and you can already feel the pent up anger towards him begin to bubble within you. As the two of you passed through the entryway of the gardens, your heart sped up at the destination, your mind floating back to the last time the two of you had been here together, and you’re clenching your fists as you struggle to walk ahead of Yuta.

“Can you slow down?”

His voice was harsh, eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at you, and you can’t help but let out a humorless laugh as you mirror his glare.

“It’s not my fault if you can’t keep up,” you bit back, making Yuta scoff.

“I can keep up,” he huffed, now walking next to you. “I just don’t understand why you’re walking so damn fast --”

“Maybe I don’t want to walk next to you,” you cut him off harshly, shooting him daggers. You caught sight of something glinting in his eyes but you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it had been.

“What’s your problem, (Y/N)?” Your name fell from his lips with venom and you had to fight back a shiver from the tone. “Is this how you treat your guests?”

Stopping in your tracks, you gave him an incredulous look, your jaw clenching as the anger began to flare up inside of you.

“My problem? You’re the one that’s been acting cold to me since you got here,” you spat harshly.

“I’ve been acting cold?” He asked, scoffing. “You’re the one that looks at me like I should be buried three feet under!”

“You should!” You seethed. “You’re lucky that I’m even talking to you!”

“You know,” he began, giving you a harsh look. “I came here thinking we could start fresh and actually be civil with one another --”

“Why would I be civil with someone who leaves without saying goodbye to the woman they supposedly love?!”

Yuta stepped back at that, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and you laughed humorlessly at his reaction.

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes. “You have nothing to say to that.”

“My love --”

“Don’t call me that!” You snapped at him, hurt coating your words. “You don’t have the privilege of calling me that anymore!”

Stepping closer to him, you let your finger push into his chest as you glared menacingly at him.

“In case you’ve forgotten, it was you who made me like this. You are the one that walked out on me without saying a goddamn word about where you had gone or that you were even leaving in the first place! How you can leave someone after telling them you love them and spending the night with them… God, I don’t even want to be near you, Yuta.”

The anger meshed with the hurt you had kept locked up inside of you was spilling out un-apologetically and you had to fight back the stinging of tears as you closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself. Dropping your hand so that it rested by your side, you took a deep breath before focusing your watery gaze on the speechless Prince.

“Enjoy your walk, your highness.”

And with that, you spun on your heel and walked away, not sparing Yuta one last glance as you made your way back into the palace.

“Yuta we’re going to get in trouble --”

“Relax, Princess,” the Prince had chuckled, sending you a mischievous grin. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to get to know your land and its people.”

Even as Yuta’s hand enveloped yours warmly, you couldn’t help but to still feel anxious about entering town. Your parents had a strict policy when it came to coming in contact with the townspeople; the only time you had ever been allowed to acknowledge their presence was when they were invited to the castle for the annual wish granting, any other interaction was strictly prohibited. You had never understood why your parents - specifically your mother - had kept you from meeting your people; if you were going to be the future of the kingdom, why were you not allowed to meet those who inhabited said kingdom.

Clutching onto Yuta’s hand as you neared closer to the bustling town, you could already feel the apprehension forming in your stomach as a few passersby’s couldn’t help but gawk at the two of you as you subconsciously shift closer towards Yuta. Tightening his hold on your hand, his protective grip sets your mind at ease as the two of you enter the town. The hectic streets are filled with the citizens; some working in the shops lined along the streets, others buying the goods that they needed.

As you headed deeper within the heart of the village you noticed the prying eyes of the folks around you, their wide-eyed stares making your stomach churn in nervousness as you clung onto the Prince. His deep chuckle vibrated into the air as he peered down at you, a gentle smile on his face.

“It’s alright, Princess,” he murmured softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand in reassurement. “They’re just not used to seeing you outside of the castle.”

Swallowing the nervous lump in your throat, you nodded at his words, believing that what he had said is true.

Your weary gaze is still locked on those around you as Yuta began to pull you towards the main street of the pavilion, your focus only breaking away from the prying eyes when the Prince had pulled you in front of him so you could glance at the event that had been going on. In the center of the square was a band, a group of people dancing happily along to the music as the crowd around them clapped along to the beat. You couldn’t help but grin at the sight, the happiness around you becoming incredibly infectious, and you found yourself beginning to clap along to the beat.

From behind you, Yuta wrapped his arms around your form, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched you carefully, the ghost of a smile dancing across his plump lips as you stayed looking straight ahead. His eyes swept over your features as he took in every curvature of your face before the Prince averted his attention to the dancers. You hadn’t the slightest clue of Yuta’s next plans so when he had grabbed your hands and tugged you towards the front of the crowd, your eyes had widened in surprise as the Prince spun you around to face him, the two of you now standing with the other dancers.

An anxious feeling washed over you as you wearily looked around at the shocked crowd only to have Yuta’s hand gently grasp your chin before he turned you back to look at him. His gaze was gentle, lips turned upwards into a dazzling smile, and he wrapped one arm around your waist before tugging you closer to him.

“Don’t focus on them,” he told you quietly, his hand dropping from your face so that he could intertwine his fingers with yours. “Just look at me, alright? I’ve got you.”

Yuta’s warm demeanor had you trusting him within an instant, the anxiety dissipating the moment he softly kissed your hand and began dancing with you. Placing your hand on his shoulder, you let the Prince lead you as the two of you began to dance to the upbeat tempo of the music. Grinning widely at you, Yuta spun you around before settling you back in front of him, the two of you dancing in a circle along with the others.

It was a peculiar feeling, really -- never in your life had you felt as free as you had in that moment. The way you were able to let go of all your worries and doubts and just dance in the street with your best friend -- it was liberating. You couldn’t help but match the Prince’s grin, your eyes never breaking from his as he lifted you up into the air before gently placing you back down, your body spinning back to him before he’s clutching you tightly. The cheers and claps of the crowd are becoming static noise as you lose yourself in the warm gaze of Yuta’s eyes, your heart swelling with adoration for the young Prince as he stared back at you.

All too soon the music had stopped and the crowd’s cheers grew louder in volume as you snapped out of your daze, a warm blush coating your cheeks as you drew back from Yuta and faced the crowd. Bowing politely, you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face as you peered on at the townspeople. There was a small part of you that had envied them, you envied their freedom and free will to do whatever it was they wanted without having to follow any set of rules. You envied that they were allowed to roam freely, getting to meet new people and see new places -- but most of all, you envied the genuine happiness that seemed to be radiating off of every single one of them.

The sight a little girl running towards you broke you out of your daze, your hands reaching out to catch her before she had crashed into you and fallen down. Steadying her, you watch as her mother hurriedly walked up to grab her daughter, eyes wide with what seemed like fear as she bowed in respect.

“I’m so sorry, your highness,” she apologized, her head still bowed. “I tried to stop her before --”

“It’s alright,” you reassured the woman with a smile, your gaze dropping to the face of the little girl as you crouched to reach her height.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you cooed, making the little girl grow shy as she hid behind her mother’s leg. “No need to be shy, honey. I just wanted to talk to you.”

The little girl’s eyes scanned your appearance as she decided whether or not to trust you, her eyes narrowing as she clung onto her mother’s leg.

“Are you a princess?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the high pitched voice, your head nodding in affirmation to her words.

“I am,” you grinned. “Are you?”

The little girl shook her head, frowning.

“No,” she replied quietly, clutching her mother’s dress. “I could never be a princess.”

You frowned at that, a look of pity crossing your features as you caught sight of the sadness on her face. Glancing around, you saw a man selling several crowns of flowers to the crowd of onlookers, an idea popping into your head as you held up your pointer finger to little girl and murmured a soft ‘wait’ to her before you stood up and walked over to the man. You ignored the look of surprise on the man’s face as you bowed politely towards him, your head nodding towards the crowns.

“How much for a crown, sir?” You asked, making his eyes widen.

“You can have one for free, your highness --”

“Nonsense,” you laughed, waving your hand at him. “I am apart of this town so I should have to pay for one much like everyone else here.”

As you finished speaking, a hand was placed in between the two of you, two coins resting in the palm of the hand and you looked back to see the smiling face of Yuta as he handed the money to the man. Reaching for the crown with red roses, you thanked the man for the headpiece before bowing goodbye and making your way back towards the little girl. Bending down, you gestured for her to come closer.

“You, sweetheart,” you began, gently taking her hand so she could stand in front of you. “Will now and forever be known as a little princess.”

Taking the crown with both hands, you placed it gingerly on the top of her head, watching as the little girl beamed with delight.

“I’m a princess?” She asked in excitement, making you nod.

“You are most certainly a princess, sweetheart.”

You watched as she turned back towards her mother, the little girl excitedly boasting about her new title, and you couldn’t help but grin as you watched a group of other kids come up to you.

You and Yuta spent the whole day exploring the town and getting to know the people who inhabited your land, each and every one of them so very different from the last. You were incredibly humbled by it, your heart soaring at the kindness of those of whom you were responsible for governing over, and you found a new feeling of adoration for the citizens.

The sun was beginning to set as you and Yuta began walking back towards the castle, the smile never faltering from your face as you looked up at the Prince, happiness enveloping your body as you bravely reached up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you murmured, making Yuta look at you in shock from the action. “I had a great time.”

Letting a smile grace his lips, the Prince reached down to grab your hand, his fingers sliding in between the spaces of yours before he brought it up to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

“I’m serious, Yuta,” you said, looking up at him. “I never knew what it was like outside of those castle walls, I was beginning to feel suffocated in there. But you… You have shown me so much already. There are so many great things I’m discovering and it’s all because of you.”

The two of you had stopped walking by this point, Yuta not saying a word as he looked down at you. You could feel your heart beginning to speed up as he reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, his hand gently grasping the back of your neck as you watched him begin to lean down. A soft gasp escaped your lips the moment you felt his press to yours, your hand clutching the lapel of his jacket as he kissed you softly. It felt like a thousand butterflies had taken flight in your stomach as your lips moved slowly against his, trying to get a sense of the rhythm before he had pulled away.

Yuta is smiling dreamily, eyes hooded in a daze, and he’s resting his forehead against yours as his thumb gently stroked the curve of your jaw.

“Princess…” His voice was breathless, a slight husky tone coating it, and you looked up at him as his gaze fell back on your lips. “My Princess…”

That had been enough for you to grasp the sides of his face and bring him back down to your lips, the second kiss between the two of you ensuing as you felt yourself melt into him. That day had been a special day full of firsts -- and it had been so worth the scolding you had gotten from your mother when the two of you had arrived back at the castle.

“So you’re getting married to him?” The blonde questioned, making you huff as you rested back against your bed.

“Unfortunately,” you mumbled.

Your party was only two days away and everyone was already running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Everyone was seemingly scattered around the palace hurriedly trying to get everything in order for Friday night. You, on the other hand, had absolutely nothing to worry about. Now that you were finished with your mother’s pre-planning duties she had set out for you, you were enjoying yourself inside the confinements of your room along with your best friend and fellow Princess from right across the sea, Miyoung.

You had successfully managed to avoid Yuta for the next two days, the Prince being called upon by your father to help get the festivities ready for your birthday party at the end of the week. While they were doing that, you were obediently following your mother’s orders as to what you had to do to prepare for the party as well. One day was filled with nothing but dress fittings - something that you dreaded entirely - while another day was filled with the etiquette you had to learn in regards to greeting the guests and acting towards them now that you were of age.

The gown you had decided on was beyond gorgeous, even if it was a tad bit hard to breathe in. It was an off-the-shoulder gown in a deepened rich red color with a silver detailed pattern of flowers adorning the bodice. The bottom flowed out freely, the gown - no doubt - the epitome of a so-called ‘Princess Gown’. It hugged your body perfectly, every curve and bump accentuated by the design of the dress.

Miyoung’s eyebrow rose in question as her gaze fell on you.

“Why unfortunately?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “I thought you loved him?”

Sighing heavily, you looked up at the different designs carved into your ceiling, your gaze falling on the abstract fixtures as you shrugged.

“I thought so too,” you murmured. “I just… It hurts too much to be around him.”

Laying down next to you, the blonde nodded in acknowledgement as she made a small noise of agreement.

“I understand,” she reassured you. “I can’t imagine how you felt when you found out that you had to marry the same guy who broke your heart.”

Miyoung was the only one who had known about yours and Yuta’s relationship. The two of you had snuck around for all of the three months he had been here, hiding it from your parents in fear that they would disapprove of it all. Had you known that he was going to be the man you were going to marry one day… Perhaps things would’ve played out differently then they were now.

Shaking your head, you break yourself out of your thoughts as you turned towards the blonde, a smile on your face.

“Have you decided what you’re wearing on Friday?” You asked her, making her grin widely.

“I have, actually,” she hummed softly. “Do you remember that pink dress I wore to my party? The one with the silver crystals on the skirt? That one.”

“Ah, that dress is gorgeous!” You clapped excitedly making Miyoung laugh.

“Not as gorgeous as yours,” she gushed. “I can’t wait to see you in it! You’re going to be turning a lot of heads, girl.”

That made you frown, a soft sigh escaping you as you stared up at the ceiling.

“Too bad I can’t enjoy the looks,” you pouted.

Miyoung pursed her lips, her perfectly manicured nails gently tapping against your frame as she gazed at you in question.

“I think you’re taking it worse than you should, (Y/N),” she said quietly. “Did you ever think to give him a chance to explain himself? To let him tell you why he ended up leaving?”

Your frown deepened at her words, guilt filling your body as you shook your head.

“No,” you said quietly. “I’m afraid to know why.”

“What makes you so afraid?”

“I’m afraid that he’s going to tell me it wasn’t real,” you admitted. “That he never really loved me…”

Miyoung let out a quiet ‘Aww’ before enveloping you in a hug.

“You can’t think like that, (Y/N),” she reprimanded softly. “You can’t live your life in fear.”

You stayed silent as you hugged her back, the frown never leaving your lips.

Your mind drifted back to the other day with Yuta, your heart scolding you for treating him the way you did, and you can feel the guilt begin to eat at you as you sighed heavily, breaking away from your friend.

A knock at the door has the two of you jumping up, your hands fixing the bottom of your dress as the door opened. Holding your breath, your shoulders straightened into alignment as you watched the aforementioned Prince walk in, the man bowing politely towards Miyoung before turning to you.

“Your mother requested for both you and I to be in the ballroom. She said something about dance lessons for the two of us --”

“Fuck, I forgot about that,” you cursed, making Yuta raise an eyebrow at the profanity. Turning to look at Miyoung, you offered your friend a sheepish smile.

“Would you like to come watch? Or you can stay in here if you’d like --”

“Actually, I think I’m going to go practice my archery skills,” she laughed. “Jaehyun is going to be at your party and I am determined to beat him at the archery match -- especially since the kid has beaten me three years in a row now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at your friend’s pout as she mentioned the other Prince, your head shaking in amusement as you waved goodbye to her and followed Yuta out of the room. There was an awkward silence between the two of you as you walked together, Miyoung’s voice replaying in your head as you thought about what she had said when it came to giving Yuta a chance to explain himself.

You wanted to, you really did, but the hurt that enveloped your heart was far too much to even think about, let alone letting him reopen the wounds he had caused. You would much rather suffer in silence than to face the problem head on, the fear of knowing what the true answer was being far more terrifying than asking the Prince himself.

As the pair of you made your way into the ballroom, you almost groaned in embarrassment at the sight of your mother and father dancing crazily in the middle of the floor, your hand covering your face as you watched your father dip her.

“Why are you like this?” You groaned, making your father laugh heartily, the King happily bounding over to you before taking your hand.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he grinned widely. “We’re just having a little bit of fun. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

From beside you, you heard Yuta chuckle, the sound shocking you as you peered over at the Prince who was grinning widely.

“I agree, Sir,” he laughed. “This one never knows how to loosen up and have fun.”

You frowned at his words.

“I know how to have fun,” you scoffed, making Yuta smirk.

“Prove it, then.”

Your father gestured for the orchestra to begin playing, a slow tempo song emitting from the instruments, and you watched as Yuta held his hand out to you, gesturing towards the dance floor. Hesitantly, you took his hand, allowing the Prince to bring you with him before he clasped his hand over yours.

As you rested your hand on Yuta’s shoulder, you bravely let your gaze meet his, and you couldn’t stop the fluttering of your heart as you watched the warmth return to his eyes. His cold stature was nowhere to be found as he pulled you close to him, his left arm wrapping around your waist comfortably whilst his right hand clung tightly to yours. The two of you began to waltz, never once breaking the eye contact.

It was a familiar setting - much like the night he had followed you out into the gardens - and the nostalgia has you clinging onto him tightly as the two of you drifted together. It’s almost like everything around you disappeared; your father, your mother, the orchestra. All that you saw was the man you loved right before your eyes.

The man you loved…

A ragged breath falls from your lips as you try to compose yourself at the feeling of love enveloping your heart, the organ beginning to reconstruct itself just from the simple touch of Yuta’s hands on yours. At that moment all of the hurt seemed to dissipate into nothing, the only remaining emotion being love as you looked up at him. And then the words were falling out of your mouth before you could even stop to think about the whole situation.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, making Yuta’s eyebrows furrow. “For the other night.”

He stared at you for a moment before the realization sunk in, his face softening and his grip on you tightening as he tugged you flush against him.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” the soft rumble of his voice made a shiver run down your spine. “Everything you said -- you were right. It is my fault.”

“Yuta --”

“Just listen, (Y/N),” he cut you off, silencing you with a pointed look. “I didn’t want to leave you that morning. I wanted nothing more than to hold you as the sun was coming up, to see what you looked like when you basked in the beautiful morning glow of the sun. I wanted to do it all again the moment you had woken up…”

His words brought tears to your eyes and you couldn’t help but let one fall as you looked up at him with a watery gaze.

“Then why did you do it ?” Your voice broke as you spoke, a lonesome tear escaping as you sucked in a breath. “Why did you leave me?”

Opening his mouth to speak, Yuta was instantly cut off by the booming voice of his father, the Prince frowning as he looked over at the King.

“Sorry, dear,” Taro apologized, giving you a sorrowful look. “Do you mind if I stole my son away for a little while? I need to speak with him about something.”

Nodding your head, you bowed towards the King before stepping away from Yuta, your lips pressed together in a tight smile as you wiped away a lonesome tear that had managed to escape. You turned to walk away when Yuta had grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to him.

“Meet me in the gardens at midnight,” he whispered in your ear, the proximity of him making a shiver run down your spin, his hot breath fanning against your cheek as he looked at you with pleading eyes. “Please, my love…”

The desperation in his tone and eyes were enough to get you to agree, your head nodding in acknowledgement to his words, and he lets out a breath of relief before sending you a smile that looked like it could rival the sun itself. Lifting your hand to his lips, Yuta pressed a soft kiss to the flesh before gently letting it rest back at your side. His gaze stayed on you until he was by his father’s side, the Prince sending you one last smile before you were left there alone with burning cheeks and a fluttering stomach.

The last summer that Yuta and his family had stayed with you was full of nothing but adventures; the two of you explored every inch of the castle. All of the secret passageways and hidden rooms were discovered, the two of you going through every nook and cranny the palace had to offer. It was filled with smiles and laughter, days filled with laying in the courtyard and looking up at the clouds while the nights were spent in the gardens where secrets and life-long dreams were revealed. It had been a time of getting to know one another, a time when all you ever knew was the dashing brunette Prince. Yuta had made you come alive; he showed you the life that laid beyond the castle walls. He took you into town and had gotten you to open up to the people of your land, getting to know them on a more personal level as opposed to just being their Princess.

You fell in love with him that summer; the young boy that had been judgmental and cruel transformed into a charming young man, a man that had managed to capture your heart with his knee-weakening smile.

That summer was filled with secretive kisses, longing touches, and eyes glimmering of adventure. It was filled with shy glances, tender grazes of hands, and words full of love. You had felt on top of the world, like a newly crowned Queen spending the rest of her life with her King. Yuta was everything you had hoped a lover would be -- and then he left.

That night had been brisk, it was an unusually chilly summer’s night in the middle of July and you were clothed in your favorite plain black dress with a black jacket zipped over it, gold military style flowers adorning the coat as you made your way up the staircase to your room. You had just finished the duties you had been ordered to do for your mother and you were more than happy to finally be able to go up to your room and rest for the night.

The hallway windows were propped open, the chilly air whipping past you as you made your way down the corridor, your arms wrapping around your body as a way to keep warm. As you turned the corner to reach your bed quarters, you stopped short when you spotted the familiar stature of Yuta, the Prince leaning against the wall as he looked out the window. Your heart sped up at the sight of him, your stomach fluttering nervously, and you watched as he turned his head to look at you the moment he heard the soft click of your heels against the stone of the floor.

“Good evening, my love,” he cooed at you, reaching for you as you drew closer to him. Beaming brightly at the Prince, you let your arms loop around his neck as you pushed up on your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Good evening, my Prince,” you whispered softly against his mouth, making Yuta’s arm tighten around your waist.

The soft glow of the moon illuminated the darkened corridor as the two of you stood in the comforting embrace of one another, neither of you making a move to break away. Yuta’s arms always served as a place of comfort for you, the two limbs wrapping around you and bringing you into a place that felt a lot like home. He was warm, he was gentle, and you had been quick to realize that there was no other place you’d rather be than right there in his arms.

Tilting your head up so that your gaze settled on Yuta’s, you had let a small smile grace your lips before you gently grasped the sides of his face and brought him down to you. His lips molded perfectly against yours, a small sound of contentment escaping from you, and your thumbs gently stroke the apples of his cheeks as your lips move with his. Feeling his arms tighten around you, you laugh lightly against his mouth as he tugged you closer, the Prince smirking against your lips as his hands sneakily slid down to rest on your butt. The cheeky action makes you mewl against him, your body pressing closer to his as Yuta growled lowly.

Tightening his grip on your waist, the Prince hoisted you up and spun you around until you were pressed against the bricks of the wall, his hands capturing yours and pinning them above your head. The kiss escalates as Yuta’s tongue runs along the flesh of your bottom lip, a soft moan falling from your lips as you oblige his silent request. The heat between your bodies grows as he pressed his body flush against yours, your back pinned to the wall, and you can feel your breath hitch when his hips rolled into yours.

In the soft glow of the moonlight, Yuta’s features were illuminating in a way that made him appear almost angelic, your gaze settling on him when he pulled away to let his lips trail down the length of your neck. Trying to break free out his grasp so you could touch him, you whined quietly making the Prince smirk against your flesh. One hand dropped from your wrist - but before you could react he’s grabbing it with his other hand - and he’s grasping your chin gently, his head leaving your neck so that he could look up at you.

His eyes are locked on yours, the heated gaze of warm chestnut irises seemingly igniting a fire within your lower body, and you repress a shudder as his lips grazed against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered, his breath fanning against your face. “I’m so fucking in love with you, (Y/N).”

Your eyes widened as the words fell from his lips, your own parting in surprise as you drew back slightly to look at him. Yuta’s eyes were hooded, long lashes gently grazing against your cheek, and you could feel the butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach as a warm blush swept over your face. You scanned the Prince’s face for any sign that would give away that he was joking -- but you found none.

Your heart felt like it had swelled twice in size as you reached for him and hastily pulled him towards you, your lips smashing roughly onto his. Yuta let out a noise of shock but kissed you back nonetheless, his hands still grasping your face as your lips moved in sync.

“I love you too,” you panted against his mouth, making the Prince moan lowly.

Wrapping your arms around Yuta’s waist, you gently pushed him back towards the door of your room before blindly reaching out to grab the knob and stumbling into the darkness. Your lips moved feverishly against his as the two of you tumble onto the bed, your body on top of his, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth when you felt his hands begin to slide up your back, his fingers resting on the ties of your dress before he’s undoing them.

His name falls from your lips in a breathless sigh, your mouth parting from his as the Prince turned you over so that you were now resting against the bed. Plump lips press soft kisses against the skin on your neck, his tongue teasingly sliding along your flesh as his fingertips dance along the back of your neck.

“Are you sure about this, my love?”

His words were muffled against your skin but you still heard him, your head nodding in acknowledgement as you tugged at the dark tresses of his hair.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my entire life.”

Yuta pulled away at that, his face becoming leveled with yours, and in the darkness you can make out the soft features as he smiled earnestly, his hand gently caressing your face as he leaned down to peck your lips.

“I love you.”

You beamed, pulling him back down to you so you could feel his lips on yours again.

“I love you too.”

That night, there was no rushing. It was slow, it was earnest, and it was full of nothing but love. Yuta had taken his time with you, mapping out every inch and curve of your body almost like he was saving it in his memory. The heated kisses transitioned into slow, passionate ones, and you could remember the exact feeling it had given you when you felt his plush lips trail along the length of your body. His hands had held yours the entire time, fingers tightly interlocked as he had filled you up -- and god, it had felt nothing short of incredible. He moved slow, savoring the feeling of being inside of you, and he made sure that his love was known. The whispered words against your lips only heightened the pleasure and before you had knew it, the two of you were in a tangled sweaty heap as you drifted off to sleep.

But then you had woken up to an abnormally cold morning, your body shivering as your eyes had adjusted to the light of the sun seeping through your window. You had turned over, expecting Yuta to be there, but you were met with an empty space, your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach as you all but stumbled out of bed and hastily grabbed your dressing robe.

You could remember the panic that had rushed through you as you raced down the stairs, the stinging of tears pricking your eyes as you caught side of your mother entering from the front doors. All she had to do was take one look at you to know what you were going to ask -- and that was when you wished you hadn’t gotten out of bed, when you wished the night before hadn’t happened.

“Yuta didn’t tell you he was leaving this morning, did he?”

And that had been your breaking point.

You weren’t sure when you had started crying, you weren’t sure why you had trusted him in the first place, you weren’t sure why you had agreed to meet him in the stupid gardens at midnight. How could you have been so naive to believe that he would stay true to his word? That he actually wanted to fix things? That maybe - just maybe - his love for you had been real.

But here you were, helplessly staring up at the night sky as tears streamed down your face at the memory. The cracks in your heart that had begun to seal up were now reopened, your chest clenching painfully as you laid down onto the stone bench as you let your cries fill the air.

Yuta never showed up.

Numb.

That was all you felt as you trudged into the dining hall for breakfast the next day. The clenching in your chest had ceased. Now you felt absolutely nothing as you sat at the head of the table, idly stirring the porridge that was in your bowl. Your parents - along with King Taro - were busy readying the last minute preparations for your party tomorrow leaving you to a quiet breakfast -- which you were thankful for. The silence in the dining hall was a peace that you relished in. You knew that your gloomy mood would’ve been picked up on immediately had your parents been in the room with you and you were certainly not in the right state of mind to be answering any prying questions.

As you stirred the lumpy oatmeal around in your bowl, it was almost like you had slipped into a daze as you basked in the numbness you were feeling. The sadness, the anger, the hurt -- it was all gone. Your chest felt hollow, empty, almost like the shattered pieces of your heart were now gone, instead replaced by a black hole of nothingness. You had pushed out any sign of hope you had had for the Prince, a cement wall now blocking the inner memories stored in your brain in hopes that the barrier could contain the hurt and the pain you had repressed after he had left.

But it still felt like that morning.

The morning you had learned that Yuta had left with his parents had been one that was filled with endless tears; it felt like betrayal, like the Prince himself had ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it repeatedly until it stopped beating. It was filled with the pain of loss, the doubt of love, and a twinge in your chest that felt like knives plunging inside of your body. You had spent that entire morning in your room, sobbing over what could’ve been or what you could’ve possibly done wrong to make him leave without saying goodbye.

And then the numbness kicked in.

It had been a struggle the first few weeks. The heaviness that you felt weighed you down and made it almost impossible to have the strength to do anything other than to lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling, wishing that it would all just go away. You could remember the worry looks that had been on your mother’s face whenever she came in to check on you, the Queen more than likely knowing that something had happened between you and the Prince. She had made her best effort to cheer you up -- but as hard as you had tried to, you just couldn’t bring yourself to smile.

That had lasted a good three months; what had seemed like an endless cycle at the time slowly letting up as time moved forward and the healing process began, but it was safe to say that you hadn’t been the same after that. Before you fell in love with Yuta, you were full of positivity, often described as a bright light that would always illuminate the room you had walked into. Your dazzling smile had captivated the majority of people you came encountered with as they watched you in awe.

But that light had faded the moment the Prince had broken your heart, the jaded feelings overtaking the positive energy you had reflected out into the world. Your dazzling grin was replaced with a forced, tight-lipped smile, one that had never seemed to reach your eyes. It became a burden to you, having to converse with the different guests that had frequently visited your palace, and you found yourself completely drained by the end of the night. Having to put on the facade that you’re happy was utterly exhausting -- but there was no way out of it.

Pushing your bowl of porridge away from you, you reach for the glass of water before taking a sip, your dry throat relishing in the liquid. Just as you had set the glass back down, you hear footsteps near the dining hall, your body on high alert as your gaze snapped to look at the entrance.

“Good morning, my love.”

Numb.

You felt nothing as Yuta neared you, your lips pressed tightly together when you felt the Prince’s lips press against your forehead, your fists clenching as you watched him take a seat next to you. You stayed silent as a bowl is placed in front of him, the Prince humming in delight as he leaned forward to shove a spoonful of porridge into his mouth, his gaze fluttering over to you before he swallowed and smiled brightly.

“Did you eat?” He asked, eyes shining brightly.

“Yes.”

You watched as Yuta’s eyes flickered towards your bowl, the Prince frowning when he noticed the significant amount of food left.

“Barely,” he remarked, his gaze returning onto you as he scanned your features.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Turning away from him, you reached for your glass of water once more.

“I’m fine.”

Your voice was cold as you brought the glass to your lips, taking another swig of water before placing it back down onto the table. Tension rose between the two of you as Yuta began to pick up on your mood, the Prince giving you a weary glance as he took another spoonful of his porridge.

“Your mother told me to tell you that we are expected in the courtyard in an hour for your archery lessons. She said she wants to make sure you make the perfect shot tomorrow at your party --”

“I got it,” you cut him off sharply, pushing your chair back and standing up from the table. “I should go get ready.”

Bowing out of respect - though he didn’t deserve it - you kept your focus on the marble flooring before bidding him goodbye and walking out, the tension never leaving your body as you left Yuta sitting there, the Prince utterly confused as he watched your retreating form disappear behind the large doors.

A shrill scream echoed around the courtyard as the woman ducked the object flying towards her, her body laying flat on the ground as she looked on in terror. Your hand was placed over your mouth as you watched the scene unfold, mindlessly tossing the bow to the ground as you rushed over to help the gardener up.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, helping the woman back to get back on her feet. You heard her sigh out of relief and watched as she straightened out her clothes before she bowed.

“It’s quite alright, your highness,” she dismissed, though you knew she was still on edge.

“Here,” you reached to grab the watering can out of her hands. “Let me help you as a repayment of almost taking your head off.”

The woman couldn’t help but laugh at your statement, the gardener shaking her head as she took the can back from you and patted your head.

“Don’t worry too much about it, honey,” she smiled warmly. “It was an accident, no harm done.”

You watched as she made her way towards the entrance of the gardens and once you knew that she was okay, you walked back to your spot with your head hung low, a blush of embarrassment coating your cheeks as you reached down to grab the bow on the ground. Taking a deep breath to help collect yourself, you shut your eyes as you tried to concentrate on what your father had taught you when you were little before taking your stance. You leveled your arrow with what you thought had been the target but the moment you had let go of the bow, the arrow flew over the silver ring and right into the trunk of the tree, your shoulders dropping in defeat as you groaned.

A loud laugh came from behind you as the arrow hit the tree, your eyes narrowing into a glare as you turned around and saw Yuta standing at the steps with a shit-eating grin on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest as he walked down the stairs, his head shaking in amusement as he clicked his tongue.

“You’re not very good, Princess,” he remarked, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Shut up, Yuta,” you grumbled, the Prince falling into another fit of laughter as he now stood beside you.

Disregarding him, you reached down into the bucket and grabbed another arrow before hooking it onto the bow. You took your stance once more but before you could even do anything you felt a warm hand on your waist and another on your elbow so that you wouldn’t let go of it so soon. Turning your head, you glanced at Yuta as he held your waist, his eyes locked on you as he gently turned your body sideways.

“You’re not standing correctly,” he murmured, his breath tickling your neck. You felt a rush of warmth run down your spine, your body involuntarily shivering at the sensation, but you brush it off as you stared at the Prince.

“Is there a particular way I should be standing?”

Yuta’s gaze doesn’t part from yours as he nodded, his other hand dropping from your elbow so that he can place it on the other side of your waist. Gently he shifted your body so it was angled to the right, his hand sliding down the length of your waist all-the-while never breaking eye contact from you. You can feel your breath hitch in your throat when you felt his hand trail over your thigh, your body frozen to the spot as he clutched your calf and made your feet rest shoulder-length apart. Warm heat spread throughout your body and you can only part your lips in surprise as Yuta straightened his posture, hand still on your waist, as he pressed his chest against your back. Delicate fingers trail along your arm leaving goosebumps in their wake as he positions it so that you’re standing in the correct stance.

“Bend your elbow,” he commanded softly.

You blinked as you watched his lips move, your mind still in a daze from his touch, and the Prince can only chuckle to himself before he’s snapping his fingers in front of your face. Breaking out of your faze, you fight the blush that coated your cheeks as you turned your head away from him in embarrassment, your arm raising so you can get ready to shoot.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Yuta’s hand returned to your arm before he’s grasping it gently, lowering it until it’s leveled with your face. “No wonder you’re not hitting anything -- your arm is placed wrong.”

You groaned as you lowered the bow, a pout forming on your lips as you turned to look at Yuta.

“Help me,” you whined, making the Prince laugh.

“I’m trying!” His deep chuckle sounded like music to your ears as he helped you take your stance once more.

Raising your arm, he held it at an angle before he told you to bend your elbow. Once you had done that, he’s leveling the bow with the side of your face before taking your other hand in his.

“You have to make sure the string is leveled with the corner of your eye.” His large hand felt warm over yours, his long fingers covering yours as he helped you bend the string back. “Now close one eye so you can focus on the target without anything else getting in the way. As soon as you’ve got it locked down, you can let go.”

Having Yuta pressed so close against you was a distraction in itself -- but you stood tall and followed every direction he gave you. Closing one eye, you locked your gaze on the middle of the metal ring placed in the field. Holding your breath, you clutched Yuta’s fingers as you let go of the string, the arrow flying into the air at a fast pace. You hadn’t expected the Prince’s teachings to work, you thought that you wouldn’t be successful -- but, somehow, the arrow managed to soar right through the middle of the ring and hit smack dab in the middle of the target.

Your eyes widened as you stared ahead, your lips parting in a grin, and you let out a yell of happiness as you turned to look at Yuta who was beaming with pride.

“I did it!” You cheered, making Yuta nod in acknowledgement.

“You did it, Princess!”

Your arms looped around his neck as you all but jumped on him so you could hug him tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

In the midst of your happiness, you felt yourself grasp the sides of his face before pulling him down to your lips, kissing him out of excitement. Making a surprised noise against your mouth, Yuta wrapped his arms around your waist so he could steady himself from the pull you had on him, a deep chuckle reverberating into your mouth as he kissed you back. Pulling away, you were still grinning from ear to ear as Yuta gazed down at you, his arms pulling you flush against him so he could place a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I’m proud of you, my love,” he said softly, making you blush and hide your face in his chest. Chuckling at your reaction, he kissed the crown of your head before letting his arms fall to his sides.

“Alright, let's see if you can do it one more time.”

The minute you stepped outside into the boiling heat you mentally cursed your mother for making you wear the heavily armored corset for practice, beads of sweat already forming on your forehead as you walked down the steps to the courtyard. Your mother and father were sat on the sidelines, the two idly talking to King Taro who was sat beside your father. You caught sight of Yuta getting ready to shoot his arrow and nearly rolled your eyes as you watched it slip past the ring and hit the target dead on, the Prince smugly waving his bow around as he boasted to the adults.

Stepping onto the grass, you set your bag down onto the ground and made your presence known, the archery teacher standing beside you as he helped you set up your things. You paid no attention to the four sitting idly on the sidelines, your body just ready to go back inside into the cool air of the palace. Quietly thanking the instructor, you slid on the archery glove before grasping your bow and picking it up off of the ground. You hadn’t expected Yuta to still be standing there as you turned around, your body almost colliding into his, and you grumble to yourself as you step around him to be parallel with the target.

“Remember what I taught you, Princess,” he whispered to you, sending you a wink before he walked off to the side.

Your lip curled in distaste as you watched him saunter over to the tree, the Prince resting underneath the leaves in the shade as he leaned against the trunk. At that moment, the smug expression on his face had stirred something inside of you, red hot anger bubbling within the pit of your stomach, and you clenched your teeth as you stared him down. Grabbing an arrow from the bucket, you clipped it onto the string before holding your stance. You could feel several pairs of eyes on you as you measured the arrow towards the ring, but little did they know you had a different target in mind. Letting a smirk grace your lips, you pulled the string back and let it go -- only you made a last minute change of target.

You watched as the arrow sunk into the bark of the tree -- right above Yuta’s head.

The Prince stood still, his eyes wide, and you feigned a look of innocence as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Sorry,” you called out, no remorse what-so-ever in your voice. “It slipped.”

The smirk doesn’t leave your face as you reached down to grab another arrow, a soft chuckle emitting from you as you lined yourself up with the target once more. You knew you were being vindictive, but the red hot anger grew more and more inside of you every time you glanced over at the Prince. Arrow after arrow it landed near Yuta, the Prince dodging them every time they had been directed his way, and you had to bite back a grin as you watched him duck for the ground as the metal point stabbed the part of the tree he had just occupied.

You watched the scowl on your mother’s face, your father’s lips turning into a deep frown as he walked over to you. Placing a hand on your shoulder, his voice was gentle as he spoke.

“Sweetheart, maybe you should take a break…”

“I’m fine, father,” you retorted, reaching down to grab another arrow. “I want to try one more time.”

“(Y/N) --”

“Just let me try the flaming arrow once and then we’ll call it a day.”

Your father looked skeptical, his lips pursing as he thought it over before he reluctantly stepped back, letting you get back to your practice. From where you stood you could hear your mother reprimanding your father for allowing you to proceed with the flaming arrow, a muffled snort of laughter escaping you at the scene unfolding before you. Biting the inside of your cheek to stop the grin forming on your face, you dipped the steel point of the arrow into the small bowl of gasoline before letting it rest on the torch.

Once the point was ignited you clipped it onto your bow and took your stance. The anger coursed through you as you inhaled sharply through your nose, your heart yelling at you to not go through with the idea your brain had come up with, your brain - on the other hand - was plagued by the anger as your mind egged you on to continue. As your gaze shifted over towards the Prince, you stared at him as every single thing he done to hurt you flashed through your mind, the sting of hurt coming to the surface as you bit back the oncoming tears that were beginning to pool behind your eyes.

Clenching the string of the bow tightly, you aimed it towards the target before letting it go. You could feel the tension of those around you as the flaming arrow soared through the air, your gaze locked on Yuta as he winced, afraid that it was going to come at him once more -- only it didn’t. The arrow soared through the center of the metal ring, which was now caught on fire, before it was securely sunken into the paper of the target.

At that moment, four collective sighs of relief echoed around the courtyard and you watched as your father stood to applaud your victory -- but you didn’t feel victorious. The pain in your chest had returned with a vengeance and it took all of what you had inside of you not to break down right then and there. Instead you set your bow down on the ground so you could start packing your things up, silently hoping that you would be left alone.

“I think that’s enough for the day,” your father called out. “Good job, you two. The ceremony tomorrow should undoubtedly be a success.”

The three adults began to head inside after your father’s speech, leaving you to collect your things by yourself. You were shoving your bow into your bag just as a shadow had cast over you, your gaze lifting to meet the angry one of Yuta’s as he glowered down at you.

“What the hell was that?” He seethed, making you feign a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

Yuta’s lips curled into a snarl as he took a step towards you.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he spat. “I had just been telling your father that I taught you everything you know about archery, that you never miss a shot because of me --”

“Oh, honey,” you smirked, straightening up as you pulled your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t be so full of yourself.”

“You made me look bad, (Y/N)!” He yelled in exasperation. “How could you have missed the damn target?!”

The smirk on your face grew as you bravely took a step towards him, your eyes flickering to his as you stared him down.

“I didn’t miss,” you retorted, giving him a once over before tightening your grip on your bag. “You were my target.”

You held your head high as you blew him a kiss goodbye before turning on your heels and walking back towards the palace, the conversation dropping immediately.

But not before you had watched his eyes flash dangerously, hinting at the realization of what your words meant.

Now, you felt victorious.

The next morning was filled with never-ending chaos.

The day of your party meant that everyone around you were running in circles trying to get everything in tip top shape before the guests arrived. The servants and butlers ran around the dining hall and ballroom areas counting each and every chair and table so that they had enough for all of the guests that were going to be arriving in only a few hours. Your mother and father had their separate fittings for their outfits for the night, leaving you to spend the majority of the day locked in your room as your helpers got you ready for the night’s festivities.

Considering that it was your twenty-first birthday party, you should’ve been more upbeat about the whole ordeal. It was a big celebration, one that brought all types of nobilities from across the world, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel even an ounce of happiness. The whole thing felt like a burden to you, one that weighed you down and made you sluggishly move from station to station as others helped you get ready, and you were already over it.

After the archery fiasco had happened, you found yourself being tortured by the simple presence of the Prince that you were dealt to marry. When you had gotten changed out of the sweaty corset your mother had made you wear, you were forced to join them for dinner -- where you, once again, had to sit next to Yuta. To say that it had been awkward would’ve been the understatement of the century.

The tension between yourself and Yuta had escalated to an all time high, the whole dinner had been spent with the two of you giving each other noticeable glares out of the corners of your eyes as you ate in silence. Your parents had been completely oblivious to the whole thing, the three gushing over how excited they were over the fact that the announcement of your engagement will be finally become public. You had a hard time trying to stomach the idea, the anger and resentment inside of you still brewing harshly in your stomach.

And when the dinner had ended, your mother had the brilliant idea of the five of you checking out the set up for the celebration, leading you to finding out that Yuta was supposed to be the one escorting you inside. Luckily, you had managed to derail that idea --

“Honey, he’s your betrothed --”

“Wouldn’t you rather make it more special? Why not just announce it after I’ve made my rounds of greeting the guests? If you do it too early it’s going to take away from the celebration.”

“She has a point…”

As the hours passed, the announcement that the first slew of guests had arrived making everyone around you panic considering that you still hadn’t gotten your dress on yet. You were still in the process of getting your makeup finished when your mother had stormed in stating that you had only a few moments left before you were meant to be in the foyer. Rolling your eyes at her, you leaned over to the woman doing your makeup before whispering softly.

“It’s alright, don’t rush. She’s always over dramatic and stressed when it comes to things like this.”

Offering the woman a small smile, you watched as she sighed with relief before nodding her head and continuing to line your eyes lightly with the pencil. As she finished up your makeup, you felt the weight on your shoulders as you stood up to go fit into your dress. Nerves bubbled in the pit of your stomach and you almost felt like you were going to be sick as the red material was placed on your bed. The bodice of your corset felt suffocating as they tied it tightly, securing your body in its confinements, and you slowly exhaled once they had finished. Your head felt light and you were afraid that you were going to pass out as you stepped into the dress, Miyoung - who had been silently watching the whole time - zipped you up until you were all set to go.

You watched as the helpers bustled around the room to grab your shoes until you felt a hand on your arm, your gaze landing on Miyoung as she looked at you with concern.

“Are you alright?”

Her eyes swept over your face as they scanned your appearance and you wondered if she could tell how clammy you were.

“Just a bit nervous,” you admitted, making her reach out and bring you into a hug.

“I understand,” she said softly, rubbing your back. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, you’re already ten times better than I was.”

You had to laugh at that, nodding in agreement.

When Miyoung had her celebration, the poor girl had been stuck in the bathroom for the first fifteen minutes after she had been introduced. Her nerves had gotten the best of her and she ended up head first in the toilet while you had held her hair back for her, muttering that everything was okay -- and you knew that if that happened to you tonight, she would do the same exact thing for you.

All of the ladies had taken a step back from you once you had everything on, a collective gasp echoing throughout your room, and you watched as some of them covered their mouths, eyes watery as they stared at you. Turning to look in the mirror, your own eyes widened in shock at your appearance.

The red strapless dress clung to your body in a way where everything had been accentuated, showing off your shape magnificently. The silver detailing on the bodice of the dress matched the silver, diamond encrusted crown that rested on your head. Your hair had been pulled up into an elegant bun, leaving room so that your diamond studs could be seen in your ears. You wore red gloves that reached up to your elbow, a silver bracelet placed delicately on your wrist to compliment the other jewelry, and your feet were clad in red satin pumps. Your makeup was subtle but still had variants that popped; the smokey black liner, the mascara coated lashes, and a nude lipstick.

“You look beautiful.”

Miyoung’s words broke your concentration from the mirror, a small smile gracing your lips as you took one last look before looping arms with her and heading out the door.

The walk from your room to the entrance of the ballroom wasn’t exactly ideal when it came to wearing pumps, the uncomfortable shoes pinching your feet with every step, and you almost groan in pain as you walk up the stairs to reach the French doors leading to the upper balcony of the ballroom. Your mother and father were already inside, their introductions having happened an hour before yours, and you feel the nerves grow twice in size as you stared at the elegantly carved doors, your gloved fingers playing with the silver bracelet on your wrist as you waited for your introduction.

The weight on your shoulders was heavy as you watched the guards begin to approach the door, their bodies bowing in respect before they gripped the door handles. You felt your heart begin to hammer quickly in your chest, your stomach bubbling nervously, and your mouth went dry as the nerves got the best of you. Inhaling sharply through your nose, you close your eyes as you stay still for a moment. Your mind floated to your happy place as you tried to calm yourself down, still not exhaling. Your head grew light but you didn’t care, the only that mattered was the image of an open field as you ran through it freely, a bright smile on your face. It was liberating to be able to run without a care in the world, and you had wished now more than ever that you could be there instead of attending the celebration.

The image shifted then.

As you ran, you felt arms wrap around your waist before hoisting you up in the air, a shriek of delight escaping you as you’re pulled into a muscular chest. Whipping your head around, you caught sight of familiar warm brown hues and a dazzling bright smile, plump lips edging towards you before they’re pressing against yours. The grip around your waist tightened as he kissed you and you hummed against his mouth, the two of you falling into the field as your limbs stayed attached to one another’s.

Your eyes shot open at that, your lips parting as you exhaled loudly, and you felt your mind go foggy as you looked around, expecting to see the Prince -- but he wasn’t there. Grumbling to yourself for believing that the image had been real, you turned back towards the doors just as they had opened, your hands placed obediently by your side before walking in.

“May I present to you, her royal highness, Princess (Y/N).”

The applause was deafening as you stood at the top of the stairs, your gaze looming over the hundreds of guests that were packed in the ballroom. The only familiar faces you were able to pick out were your parents who stood off to the right with King Taro, Miyoung who was in the center, and you felt your breath hitch as you caught sight of Yuta standing at the foot of the grand staircase. He was dressed in all black save for the metallic silver lining on his dress robes, his hair parted off to the side, revealing his forehead. He had a wide-eyed expression as he looked up at you, lips parting in surprise as you stared back at him.

Carefully you began to descend the stairs, your eyes locked on the Prince the entire way down, and you felt your heart slamming against your ribcage as he offered his arm out to you which you graciously took. You felt the ease wash over you as Yuta pulled you close to him, his eyes never leaving you as you finally made it to the floor. All eyes were on you but you only saw Yuta, your hand clutching his arm as he swept you along the floor to bring you over to guests so you could start making your rounds of welcoming them.

Despite the anger you had held towards the Prince, when it came to stressful moments like this… He was your rock. The familiarity of him set you at ease and you instantly felt the nerves lift as he stood by your side. The warmth that radiated off of him gave you a sense of comfort as you bowed towards the nobles who had approached you, a tight-lipped smile on your face as you greeted them politely. Yuta stood silently by your side as you conversed with them, answering any questions or comments that they had for you before moving on to the next pair.

Somewhere in the middle of making your rounds, Yuta had excused himself as he had been summoned by his father, the Prince giving you one last look to make sure that you were alright before he obediently stood next to the King. As you made your way around the ballroom, you could already feel the fatigue that hit your body as you bowed in front of another guest. Your mind was in overdrive, ready to shut down from having to do the same thing over and over again. The tight-lipped smile never faltered as you bid adieu to another guest, thanking them for coming to the celebration. Turning around, you had began to make a bee-line towards the doors of the ballroom to go get some quick air before you had bumped into someone.

“Oh! I’m so sorry --”

“Pardon me, it was my fault!”

Your eyes almost bugged out of your head as they landed on the person you had bumped into, your heart beginning to speed up as your gaze settled on the face of the handsome man in front of you. Immediately he bowed, an apologetic look on his face as he looked towards the ground.

“I’m so sorry, your highness, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

His voice was soft, almost like the sound of chimes singing through the wind, only the tone was lower. He rested one knee on the marbled floor before gently grabbing your hand, his pillow soft lips pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he sheepishly looked up at you. You, on the other hand, were as flushed as a tomato, the heat on your cheeks making you want to hide your face as you looked down at the man.

“It -- it’s quite alright, um --”

“Oh!” Standing up from the ground, he still hadn’t dropped your hand as he showed you a beamingly bright smile that struck your heart in all of the best ways. “My name is Taeyong, your highness. Well -- Prince Taeyong, actually. But my title is only used for formalities and --”

Your giggle cut him off, your hand covering your mouth as you grinned at the Prince stumbling over his words. A sheepish grin danced across his lips and he ran his free hand through his hair, thoroughly embarrassed at his rambling.

“Well, Taeyong,” you began, grinning at him. “I believe you owe me something for bumping into me. Perhaps, a dance?”

You watched as his expression brightened at your words, the grip on your hand tightening as he nodded enthusiastically.

“It would be an honor, your highness.”

You couldn’t stop the fluttering in your stomach as he brought you to the middle of the dance floor, his warm hand resting on the curve of your hip while his other laced with yours. He pulled you in close before the two of you began to waltz to the music the orchestra was playing, your eyes locked on his as he smiled brightly at you. It was almost like the two of you were gliding effortlessly along the floor, Taeyong leading you in a flawless dance, and you had to stop yourself from swooning as he spun you around before pulling your body back towards his. His movements were fluid, every step sharp and defined, and you felt yourself getting lost in the soft gaze of his eyes.

It was almost like you had been put under a spell, completely entranced by the man you were dancing with, and it wasn’t until the sound of a throat clearing from behind you interrupted the dance before you snapped out of the daze. Turning your head, you saw Yuta, the Prince glaring angrily at the man you were dancing with before he took a step closer towards you.

“Pardon the interruption,” his voice held an edge to it and you had to bite back a laugh as he stared down Taeyong. “But the King and Queen requested her presence.”

Stepping back from you, Taeyong sent you a warm smile and lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it softly before bowing in respect.

“It was an honor dancing with you, your highness,” his velvety voice made your heart sing and you couldn’t help but send him a smile back. “Hopefully we can have one more before the night ends.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Yuta’s mumble doesn’t go unnoticed and you have no time to reply to Taeyong before the Prince grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the other end of the ballroom. You can feel the anger radiating off of him as his tight grip clutched your hand, his lips pulled into a sneer, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior before ripping your hand out of his.

“Simmer down, boy,” you chided, making Yuta’s head snap to look over at you. “It was just a dance.”

“It wasn’t just a dance, (Y/N),” he snapped. “It was more than that and you know it.”

You had to laugh at that, your head shaking in amusement, crossing your arms over your chest before quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh really?” You asked, clearly amused. “How so?”

For a moment you saw a flash of hurt cross his features, the Prince staring you down as he moved closer to you.

“You were looking at him like --” he paused, and you watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down. “Nevermind.”

He had made a move to turn away from you but instead you reached up to gently grab his face, making him look back at you with a sad gaze.

“I was looking at him like what?” You asked softly, your gaze sweeping over his face as you tried to figure out what he was thinking. “Tell me, Yuta.”

Yuta stayed silent as his eyes softened, the palm of his hand reaching up to gently caress your face. Leaning into his touch you felt a sense of longing run through you, the gesture making your mind fill with the endless touches of love he used to give you. You felt your heart soar as the pad of his thumb gently stroked the edge of your jaw -- and in a flash, it was gone.

“Come on,” he said, dropping his hand from your face. “We have to get ready for the announcement.”

You stood beside your mother and father at the top of the balcony, overlooking the crowd of guests as the room grew silent. Your fingers were twisted together in a sense of nervousness as the hundred pairs of eyes stared back at you in question, your lips pressed together in a tight line as your father stepped forward. Immediately the crowd bowed, honoring the King, and you watched as your father bit back a fit of laughter as he looked on at them.

“Firstly, I would like to thank you all for coming here tonight to help us celebrate my daughter’s birthday,” he began, gesturing towards you. “As you all know, the Princess’s twenty-first birthday is a big deal. It’s almost like the coming-out party to help introduce her to possible suitors who are worthy enough to stand by her side and help rule the country.”

You straightened your posture as your mother stepped aside, allowing you to stand by your father as he began speaking again.

“Fortunately, however, she has found him already.”

This time it was your father who had stepped aside, the King gesturing for Yuta to take his place beside you before the two of you walked to the edge of the balcony. Looping your arm through his, you couldn’t help but look up at the man as he peered down at you. There was a sense of longing in his eyes, the warm brown hues focusing on you and you only, and you watched as his plump lips turned upwards into a gentle smile. Clutching onto him you all but buried yourself into his side as you tried to conceal yourself from the crowd’s view, Yuta chuckling softly when he noticed your actions.

“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Your father’s speech became static noise as you looked up at Yuta, the Prince never once breaking eye contact with you, and you let your mind wander as your gaze swept over his features. The sharp line of his jaw, the high-pointed nose, the plump lips… Had he always been this handsome? Over the course of the week had you been that blind with rage and hurt that you never got to relish in the gentle glint in his eyes, the soft brush of his hands on you, or even notice the emotion he had hidden behind the cold exterior. The realization hit you full force as the crowd began to cheer and clap as the announcement was made -- but you didn’t care.

All that mattered was the man standing beside you.

But soon you were ripped away from your husband-to-be as your friends pulled you towards them, words of excitement for your engagement falling from their lips as they hugged you out of happiness. Reluctantly pulling your gaze away from Yuta, you looked over at Miyoung who stood there with a knowing grin on her face, the blonde wrapping an arm around your shoulders as she hugged you.

“I told you so,” she said in a sing-song voice making you roll your eyes at her.

“I haven’t talked to him yet,” you frowned. “For all I know, he could be faking it.”

Miyoung scoffed, pushing you playfully.

“Oh, honey,” she laughed, shaking her head. “There’s no way anyone can fake a look like that.”

With that, she sent you a wink before catching sight of Prince Jaehyun crossing the floor. You watched as her eyes narrowed into a glare, pink lips parting, before she called out to him from across the room.

“Jung Jaehyun you still owe me a rematch!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at your friend’s antics as you watched her storm out of the ballroom, the Prince hot on her heels before they made their way outside to the archery station. Rubbing your gloved hands together you looked around the room at the guests; some were waltzing on the dance floor, others conversing off to the side. The soft music of the orchestra playing as drowned out by conversations and you suddenly felt the dryness of your lips. Picking up the skirt of your dress you headed over to the head table before grabbing your glass, lifting it to your lips and taking a sip.

“I suppose a ‘congratulations’ is in order, your highness?”

You almost spat your water out in surprise as the voice came from behind you, your eyes widening as they landed on a smirking Taeyong’s face. Picking up a napkin you hastily dabbed at your mouth before turning towards him with a shrug of your shoulders, a sheepish expression on your face.

“I suppose so,” you affirmed, making Taeyong laugh.

“He’s a lucky man,” he said, taking a step closer towards you. “Just promise me one thing, your highness.”

You felt your breath hitch as the back of Taeyong’s hand ran along your jaw, the soft touch of his fingertips barely grazing your skin as his smirk widened.

“If you ever find yourself unsatisfied by the man you marry, do not hesitate to come and find me.”

Your eyes widened at the blatant sensual undertone of his words, your cheeks growing hot underneath the touch and gaze of the Prince as a flash of hunger showed in his eyes.

“I don’t think that will be necessary, your highness.”

Yuta’s sharp tone made you flinch and you found yourself backing away from Taeyong as the two Princes looked at one another; one out of anger the other out of smugness. Wrapping a protective arm around your waist, Yuta pulled you behind him as he stepped in front of you, eyes staring dangerously down at Taeyong.

“If you’ll excuse us,” he gritted out. “We will be leaving now.”

The harsh grip on your hand has you crying out softly as you feel yourself begin to be pulled away from Taeyong and through the crowd, your eyes narrowing into a glare as you stared at the back of Yuta’s head whilst he dragged you out of the ballroom. Trying to rip your hand from his grasp, you pushed on his arm as he pulled you up the stairs before he finally let go the moment the two of you were alone in an empty corridor. Your eyes flashed angrily as you stepped back from him, the Prince mirroring your expression as the two of you glared at one another.

“How dare you pull me away like that!” You yelled, making Yuta roll his eyes. “I’m not some doll that you could just tug and pull!”

“I’m sorry for being too rough,” his voice sounded the exact opposite of his words, the tone harsh and cold. “But you need to be more careful around people like that!”

“People like what? Like Taeyong --”

“Don’t say his name,” he seethed, glaring daggers towards the ballroom. “You need to stop being so trusting with other people --”

“You act like that’s a bad thing!”

“It is!” His voice raised and you fought back a flinch as it echoed in the empty corridor. “People like that will take advantage of you --”

“Wow, that sounds familiar,” you bit back, making Yuta’s face contort with confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have been so trusting with you, either,” you spat.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“I don’t know, Yuta, you tell me,” your voice was harsh as you took a step closer to him. “I let my guard down for you, I let you show me things I’d never seen before, I fell in love with you! And what did you do? You left me here to rot!”

Your voice wavered as tears pricked the corners of your eyes, all of the pent up feelings and emotions that you had been holding back now coming to light as you glared menacingly at the Prince.

“You made love to me and then you left me,” your lip quivered as a tear rolled down your cheek, Yuta’s face softening at the sight. “Do you know how that made me feel? Do you know what it felt like when I woke up the next morning expecting you to be there only to find out that you had left --”

“My mother was sick!”

“That doesn’t give you the right to just leave without saying anything!” You yelled, the tears now freely flowing. “All of the promises you made that night, all of the words you said to me… They meant nothing to you, did they? When you asked me to meet you at midnight and you never showed up --”

“Wait --”

“I waited for you!” you cried, furiously wiping your tears. “I waited and waited but you never showed up!”

“I told one of the maids to tell you that I wasn’t going to be able to make it!” His claimed, exasperatedly. “She said she was going to tell you --”

“Well she didn’t,” you snapped.

The tears felt hot on your face as you let out a choked sob, your heart hammering against your chest. 

“Did you even love me at all, Yuta? Everything you had told me; all of the feelings, the secrets -- were they just a ploy to get me to fall for you just so you could break my heart?”

Yuta’s face fell at your words, a deep frown on his lips.

“You -- you think I didn’t love you?” The crack in his voice doesn’t waver your anger, your lips pressed together in a tight line as you stayed silent. “You really think that I was faking all of that?”

“What else am I supposed to think?!” You cried out, furiously wiping at your tears. “You left me, Yuta! That doesn’t exactly scream ‘I love you’ now, does it?”

“I didn’t have a choice!” His voice raised once more, the crack even more evident now, and you laughed humorlessly as you shook your head.

“You did have a choice!” You retorted. “You chose not to tell me. You chose to leave without saying goodbye. You chose to lead me on --”

“I never led you on!” You could tell that Yuta was reaching his breaking point, the Prince’s body shuddering each time he yelled. “God, I would never do that --”

“You never answered my question, either,” your voice was cold as you spoke, vision blurry from the tears. “You never loved me did you?”

Yuta’s breathing was labored as you cut him off, his face unreadable, and he watched as you took another step towards him.

“Admit it, Yuta,” you taunted. “Just tell me that I’m right and I’ll --”

Your words were swallowed by Yuta as the Prince grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up to him, his lips crashing harshly onto yours. Your shriek was muffled as he kissed you roughly, teeth clamping down onto your bottom lip as your head finally wrapped around the fact that he was kissing you -- Yuta was kissing you.

A muffled moan escaped your lips as you looped your arms around his neck, bringing him further down towards you as you began to kiss him back. Opening your mouth, you let your tongue glide against his, mewling at the contact as your fingers pulled harshly at his dark locks. Yuta growled against your lips, his hand dropping from the back of your neck before landing on your waist as he pushed you back. Feeling your back hit the wall roughly, you dug your nails into his scalp in retaliation, teeth clamping down onto his bottom lip before you’re pulling back breathlessly.

Yuta doesn’t there, though. Instead he’s kissing down your jaw, nibbling the flesh every now and again, before he’s making his way down the length of your neck. His warm tongue runs along the expanse of your neck as you tilt your head back to give him more access.

“Don’t you dare think --” he paused, his hot breath fanning against your skin before he lifted his head from your neck so he could look you dead in the eye. “That I never loved you. I loved you more than I could ever put into words, (Y/N). Hell, I still love you.”

You could feel your heart begin to pound rapidly against your ribcage as he spoke, your eyes widening as you looked up at him in surprise.

“You -- what?”

Yuta’s gaze grew soft, the tip of his nose brushing against yours as he look at you in earnest.

“I love you,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours with every word. “I never stopped loving you -- mmf!”

His words had ignited a fire within your body.

Your lips were ruthless against his, kissing him in what would could be classified as desperation mixed with longing as you tangled your fingers in his hair. Wrapping one leg around his waist, you pulled his body closer to you until his lower half was flush against yours, your hips rolling to gain any kind of friction you could. His plump lips are soft against yours, a groan emitting from his chest as his hand slid underneath your dress to rest on your bare thigh, fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you against him. His hips pinned yours against the wall as his tongue swirled around yours, your name falling from his lips in a breathless moan as you circled your hips against him. You can feel the heat pool between your thighs as his fingers danced along your skin, the need for him becoming more and more apparent.

You could faintly hear the music playing from the ballroom, the chatter of the guests bringing you out of your daze as you drew back from Yuta’s lips- only to have him chase right after yours. You moaned lowly as he licked inside of your mouth, his kisses becoming addictive. The noise from the ballroom faded into silence as you, once again, lost yourself in Yuta’s lips, the plush flesh feeling what you would expect heaven to seem like. You felt the air in your lungs begin to grow tight as you became light-headed, drawing back from the kiss for the second time.

“We can’t stay here,” you breathed out, making Yuta hum against your jaw, the Prince lazily drumming his fingers on the flesh of your thigh.

“Why not?” He asked, amusement in his voice. “Don’t want the others to know that their good little Princess is capable of doing such naughty things?”

His nose grazed against your neck, a smirk forming on his lips as he felt you arch into him, your body on high alert as he moved his fingers up your thigh.

“Do you not want them to see their little Princess getting fucked against the wall by the man who loves her?” You couldn’t control the moan that escaped as he bit down on your neck, a lewd suck emitting from his mouth as he enclosed his lips around your skin.

You felt his fingers prod against the hem of your panties, your lips parting as his name fell with a breathy whimper, the Prince smirking against your flesh as he ran his tongue over the newly formed bruised on your neck. Your fingers are tangled in his hair as he pushed past the confinements of your panties, his fingers gliding over your slicked core. Tightening your thigh around his waist, you push into his touch, wanting - needing - more of him.

“Yuta,” you whimpered, making the Prince raise his head from your neck and give you a look, eyebrow raised in question. “P- please.”

“Please what, Princess?” He teasingly asked, making you groan.

Reaching down you grabbed his wrist before pushing more of his hand into your panties, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you rolled your hips into his touch.

“Touch me.”

A low growl emitted from his chest as he surged forward, lips crashing onto yours as his fingers ran along your folds, coating the digits in your arousal before he’s pushing one inside of you. You’re mewling at the contact, your hips rolling as you craved more friction from him. Your tongue swirled around his as he curled the digit against your tight walls, a breathless moan escaping you as you rode the rhythm of his hand.

He’s slipping a second finger inside of you, the Prince lazily licking into your mouth as he pumped the digits, the tip of his middle finger brushing against a spot that has you jerking into his hand, a loud moan reverberating into his mouth as he curled them. Your hips have a mind of their own, rolling shamelessly into the rhythm, riding the digits without a care in the world. You’re breaking away from his mouth and tilting your head back, moaning into the air as he nibbled on the skin of your neck.

“Yuta,” you moaned, breathless. “Please -- please take me to my room.”

“Why?” He asked, panting against your neck. “Tell me why and we’ll go.”

Shakily you rested your hands on the sides of his face before bringing him up to look at you, your eyes wide and pleading as you fight the pleasure that his fingers are giving you.

“I want you to make love to me.”

The words were soft, almost inaudible, but by the sound of Yuta growling and ripping his fingers from you, you knew he had heard it.

The door of your room is slammed shut the moment the two of you are secured inside, desperate touches igniting your body on fire as he pressed you up against the door. Impatient fingers are sliding over the zipper of your dress before pulling it down, the Prince groaning against your neck when he caught sight of the corset underneath.

“I hate these things,” he whined breathlessly, making you giggle.

“You had a hard time undoing it last time…”

Yuta’s eyes flashed dangerously at your words, the Prince taking them as a challenge before a smirk danced across his lips.

“I’m different now, my love,” he whispered, his breath sending shivers down your spine as his fingers rested on the front of the corset. “Would I have been able to do this last time?”

The sound of fabric ripping echoed around the room, your eyes widening as you watched the now ripped corset being tossed to the ground. Desire pooled in your lower body at the sight, your bottom lip being sucked into your mouth as your gaze settled back on the Prince in front of you. He’s smirking cockily, the tips of his fingers brushing against your now bare chest, and you can’t help but to whimper, your fingers sliding under his dress robes before you’re sliding them off of his body.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of, sweetheart,” he murmured, making you smirk.

“I should be the one saying that.”

Your lips reattached to his as you pull at his vest, your tongue sliding against his as his fingers tweaked at your nipples, the pleasure striking a shiver down your spine as you tossed the material to the floor. Desperation and want is coursing through your veins as you break away from his mouth to pull his shirt over his head, your eyes widening when you catch sight of the defined muscle that had been hidden beneath the fabric. Your pupils were blown with lust as your eyes raked over his body, your tongue sweeping over your lips as Yuta let out a soft chuckle.

“Like what you see, Princess?”

His lips were pressed to your ear, teeth nibbling on the lobe, and you moaned in response, your fingers greedily running over the curves of his abdomen, relishing in the feel of the defined muscles. Feeling his hands grip your thighs, you let out a surprised squeak as you feel yourself being lifted up and spun over towards the bed, Yuta’s lips attaching to your chest as he pressed you into the soft mattress. His tongue glided over your pert nipples, taking one of the buds into his mouth before softly biting down.

Pleasure ran through you and you couldn’t help but arch into him as his tongue swept around the sensitive bud. Your nails raked down his back before settling between his shoulder blades and digging in, marking his back with scratches as you lifted your hips to roll into his. Yuta moaned against your chest, one hand sliding into your panties as he resumed what he had been doing before the two of you had gotten to your bedroom.

His fingers mercilessly curled against your tight walls, the pad of his thumb pressing against your clit making your voice grow in volume, the Prince’s name falling from your lips as your nails raked against his skin. With his free hand he tugged the material of your panties down your legs and broke away from your breasts, Yuta sliding down your body until he’s throwing your legs over his shoulders and leaning in towards your core.

Feeling the tip of his tongue pressing against your clit has you reeling against him, your hips bucking up into his face as you fight to put more pressure on the sensitive bud. Chuckling softly against you, he obeyed your silent wishes and lifted his head until he had flattened the wet muscle against the bud, sucking harshly at it until he had you writhing beneath him. He’s humming softly against your core, the sound reverberating against your body and effectively making you shudder against him as the speed of his tongue increased.

He’s sliding a third digit inside of you, your walls easily stretching for him, and he can’t help but smirk against your clit as he peered up at you through a hooded gaze.

“You taste so good, Princess.”

His breath fanned against your core as he looked up at you flirtatiously, the cheeky smile making you groan with impatience, and you’re fisting your hands in his hair before pulling him back towards your core. Chuckling softly, he gets the message and continues what he was doing before; teasing kitten licks and soft suckles against your clit have you rolling your hips into his mouth, his unoccupied hand reaching out to pin them against the bed. The three digits inside of you curl and press against your inner walls, the stretch along with the pleasure of his mouth making you see stars, and you can feel your lower half begin to tighten, an overwhelming pleasure wracking your body before your hips try to fight the pressure.

Your release hits you like waves crashing onto shore, a cry of Yuta’s name coming from your mouth as the Prince brought you to your high. His tongue still prodded against the now oversensitized bud, fingers milking your release. Your eyes are squeezed shut, nails digging into his scalp, and you’re whimpering softly when you felt him slide his fingers from you, the emptiness making you squeeze your thighs together in hopes of creating some sort of friction between them.

Yuta had other plans, however.

Prying your legs apart, he’s leaning down to press soft kisses up your body, tongue sweeping past his lips every now and again as he kissed a trail up your chest and neck before reaching your lips. You can still taste yourself on his tongue as it brushed past the seam of your lips, the lustful aura diminishing into something much more intimate as he blindly untied his pants. Reaching down to help him, you’re pushing the soft material down his legs, his briefs following in suit, and you felt your breath hitch as the tip of his length prodded against your core.

A sudden strike of fear rushed through you then, your mouth breaking apart from his, and you can feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him, the Prince’s face contorting into one of concern as he reached up to cup yours.

“What’s the matter,” he murmured, warm brown hues scanning your body in case he had hurt you.

“Please don’t leave me again.”

The words escaped you before you could stop them, the sadness in your tone making a look of hurt flash across Yuta’s features and he’s shaking his head before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours once more.

While the other kisses had been heated and lustful, this one was languid and deep. You felt your heart soar as the passionate kiss deepened, Yuta’s hand traveling from your face to grab your own hand, fingers interlacing with yours as he steadied himself against you.

“I’m not leaving you,” he whispered against your lips, eyes boring into yours. “Not again. Not ever.”

With one hand still laced with yours, his other lined his length up with your core, pumping it a few times before he sheathed himself inside of you.

A sigh of relief escaped both yours and Yuta’s lips as your walls convulsed around him, your tight heat stretching to accommodate the size of his thick cock. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you lift yourself up off the bed to allow him to rest deeper inside of you, a moan of delight escaping the Prince as he now held both of your hands, pinning them above your head as his mouth continuously pressed to yours.

The rhythm started slow, thrusts shallow as he waited for you to get used to him. His lips move slowly against yours, hands tightening their hold on yours, and you can’t help but let out a soft gasp when you felt his hips push deeper.

“Yuta --”

His name comes out in a choked moan, the Prince playfully nibbling on your bottom lip as he rolled his hips into yours.

“My Princess,” he breathed out, making your body fill with heat, a whimper escaping you as he took your bottom lip between his teeth. “My beautiful Princess.”

The slow rhythm began to pick up when he felt your walls stretch further, his cock drawing out of you before quickly sliding back in. The pick up in speed has you mewling against his lips, your fingers squeezing his as your ankles locked behind his back. The soft sound of skin meeting skin echoed around the room and you had to draw back from his lips as you arched into him, your lips parting in pleasure as his hips rocked roughly into yours.

Yuta suckled bruises into the skin on your chest as his thrusts sped up, the sound of his hips slapping against yours becoming louder and louder with each movement and you’re arching into the feel of him as your nails began to rake down his back. Moan after moan falls from your lips and you almost whimper in protest as one of his hands left yours, your mouth opening to whine before a moan concealed it, Yuta’s thumb pressing against your sensitive bud before he’s rubbing it roughly.

His lips dotted kisses along the expanse of your neck, his breathing ragged as his thrusts began to grow sloppily in rhythm, his teeth sinking into your flesh as his cock brushed against the same spot his fingers had, your hips jerking against the friction as you wailed with pleasure. The tightening in your core signalled that you were close, the brink of your release building rapidly as Yuta let out a choked moan against your flesh. Your nails scraped along his back, the markings making the Prince retaliate by digging his own into your wrist, the pain mixing with the pleasure as you clenched around his cock.

Your release washed over you in a pleasureable wave, Yuta’s name falling from your lips with a soft cry, your hips rolling to meet his as you rode out your high. Your core is sensitive as Yuta’s thrusted deeply, the Prince’s voice catching in his throat as he slid out of you and pumped his length. Your eyes were hooded as fatigue took over your body, the sight of Yuta’s release spurting over your abdomen as he came with a grunt, his head thrown back as his lips parted in pleasure.

Your chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace as you fought to catch your breath, your vision blurred from the intense pleasure you had just experienced, and you can barely make out the silhouette of Yuta as he reached down to grab his shirt. The soft fabric of the shirt runs along the length of your abdomen, Yuta placing soft kisses along your hips as he cleaned you up. You could still feel your core trembling as he gently lifted you up to pull the covers back, Yuta letting you rest against the mattress before climbing next to you.

Warm, muscular arms wrapped around your form as the blankets laid over top of you, his face nestling in the crook of your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your flesh.

“I love you,” he murmured, and you turned your head to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I love you too.”

The warmth of the sun illuminated your skin as morning came, the birds chirping happily outside of your window as you groaned, burying your face from the bright rays. Your body was hot from the heat of the morning sun, the comforter of your bed becoming too much for you as you shoved the cloth to the floor. Now you’re completely uncovered, your skin relishing in the exposure after being smothered by hot blankets all night. A dull ache in your lower body made another groan escape from you and you’re rolling over to the other side of the bed before burying your head into the pillow.

And then you realize something…

Lifting your head, your mind wraps around the fact that you’re alone. Your heart dropped as memories of the night before replayed over in your mind, deja vu hitting you like a freight train, and you can already feel the tears prick the corners of your eyes as you sit up in bed. Your heart ached painfully as you’re slowly reaching for your dressing gown, the silk material clinging to your skin, and you had just managed to button it up before your door opened.

“Good morning, my love.”

Relief. Happiness. Love.

The tears streamed down your face as you jumped onto the Prince, a cry of relief escaping you as your hands banged against his chest, your face burying in the crook of his neck before you gave up on hitting him and looped your arms around his neck. Yuta stumbled a bit from the impact before carefully placing the tray onto the bed.

“Don’t do that to me!” You yelled, making the Prince stare down at your tearful state.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I thought you had left me again,” you cried, making Yuta frown.

Gently taking you in his arms, he let you curl up on his lap as he rocked you back and forth, his lips pressing to your forehead as he whispered sweet nothings, waiting for you to calm down before he lifted your face so he could look down at you.

“Hey,” he called softly, your tearful gaze making him frown as he caressed the sides of your face. “I’m not going to leave you, Princess.”

Your lip trembled as the tears began to slow, your head nodding in acknowledgement.

“I just went to go get us some breakfast.”

Your gaze fell on the silver tray he had been carrying in and, as if on cue, you heard your stomach grumble, the noise making Yuta chuckle as he gently set you on the mattress. Lifting the cover off of the tray, he beamed when he revealed the golden pancakes, scrambled eggs, and cup of orange juice. You felt your heart soar as you looked up at him, a small laugh escaping you as you wiped the remaining tears off of your face.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, watching as Yuta moved to sit beside you on the bed. “I guess I just -- assumed that it happened again.”

Leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead, Yuta let his lips linger for a moment before turning towards the tray and stabbing a forkful of pancake. Lifting it to your lips he gestured for you to open your mouth before feeding you, a soft hum escaping him as he happily watched you eat.

“I suppose that’s my fault, too,” he remarked, a sheepish smile on his face. “Perhaps I should’ve waited until you were awake to go get you something to eat, given our -- my -- history.”

A frown formed on your lips as you looked up at him, your fingers idly playing with the strands of his hair as you leaned into him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“Can I ask --” you paused, swallowing the pancake before resuming. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yuta let out a deep sigh, remorse clouding his features, and he fed you another piece of the pancake before speaking.

“I couldn’t do it,” he admitted, guiltily looking away. “I avoided it until it was too late. My mother had just been diagnosed with the sickness and we were set to go the week after that…”

Yuta stopped talking, his eyes dropping to look at the ground as he frowned.

“I loved you so much that it hurt -- it hurt that I had to say goodbye to you. I thought that -- that maybe if I said nothing at all it would hurt less, that not seeing you the day we set off to go back home would be easier than a tearful goodbye… But it wasn’t.”

Pushing the tray away, he grasped your face gently before pulling you towards him.

“I thought about you every day I was gone, Princess. Everywhere I turned, you were there. The simple thought of you got me through everything; it got me through watching my mother succumb to her sickness, it got me through the sadness of her funeral. You have been my rock since day one -- and I’m sorry that I was not able to be the same for you.”

You shook your head, your thumbs brushing away the tears that had collected at the corners of his eyes.

“I forgive you,” you murmured.

You watched as Yuta’s shoulders shook as he cried, his grip on you tightening as you kissed his head, your lips forming into a pout as you rested your cheek against his.

“I’m sorry I shot all of those arrows at you.”

A choked back laugh escaped the Prince at that, his teary gaze filling with joy as he lifted his head to look at you, a grin playing on your lips as you giggled.

“I forgive you,” he said, repeating your words. “Besides -- you can’t get rid of me that easily, my love.”

A shriek escaped you as you felt yourself being pressed into the mattress as Yuta tackled you on the bed, his lips kissing any part of your face that he could reach, a wide, dazzling grin on his lips as he held you tightly to him.

“I was yours then --”

Kiss.

“I’m yours now --”

Kiss.

“I’m yours forever.”

And he meant it.

[a-world-in-grey]

Sola/Blood of My Blood snippet

@secret-engima I will never get over this au, it’s too awesome.

.

“I thought you didn’t want a Shield.”

The question comes, hesitant and quiet enough that Sola could pretend not to hear it at all. Noctis’ gaze remains on his phone, on one of the games he used to play but hadn’t touched again until Prompto stumbled into his life.

Into Noctis’ Heart, but that’s Noctis’ detail to share in his own time.

Anyone else, Sola would tell them exactly where to shove that question. She’s heard it far too often from too many nobles, all with the same sneer in their voice and the disgusted affront radiating off them so strongly they didn’t need magic for Sola to know exactly what they were feeling.

Filthy-refugees-how-dare-

But this is Noctis, magic curling in curiosity and worry. Worry for Sola, worry that the choice wasn’t hers, worry for a bond that might have been forced and the damage that would do to both her and her Shield.

Sola lets the bobbin drop against the tapestry and joins Noctis on the couch. They’re in her suite, in the sitting room she turned into a workroom back when she’d been on extended medical leave and needed something to do with her hands. The couch hadn’t come until after Noctis returned, so her brother could have a place to hang out while she worked on her current tapestry.

Sola only asked once if Noctis was truly okay watching Sola work - weaving a tapestry isn’t the quickest process - instead of doing something else with Sola, but her brother had nodded and Sola had let it be. Noctis always brought something to do, a book or a game, or simply napped, and it didn’t take Sola long to realize Noctis just wanted some quiet time while in her presence.

It made her smile fondly when she figured it out. It was startlingly similar behavior to Abyssus.

“I didn’t at first,” Sola says once she’s made herself comfortable. This... is not going to be an easy conversation. Noctis lowers his phone, darkening the screen. “You’d just disappeared. Taking a Shield felt like giving up on you.” And there’s the familiar guilt welling up in Noctis’ magic. Nope, not right now. “There’s a reason the Council chambers needed a renovation, and it isn’t because Papa decided he disliked the decor. On an unrelated note, Lord Egestas hasn’t spoken to me since.”

She grins at Noctis’ hastily smothered snort. There’s a sharp swell of anger on her behalf, but it’s under the reluctant amusement so Sola will take it as a win. Distraction a success.

Sola isn’t a nice person and her humor reflects that; it’s vicious, vindictive, and at times crude. There are few things Noctis shares her amusement on, but Sola doesn’t mind. Her brother is so much kinder than Sola. Noctis truly sharing her sense of humor would mean he’d lost most of the kindness that makes him who he is. And that would break Sola’s heart.

Neither of them like Lord Egestas though. Which means Sola gets away with a lot more than Noctis would normally tolerate.

Now for the hard part. “‘A King needs his brothers.’”

“‘A Lucis Caelum needs their Retinue.’” Noctis finishes, amusement fading. Blue eyes turn distant, turn towards memory and Sola squeezes Noctis’ hand to keep him in the present.

Three years without his Retinue. Three years in the kind of hell that would shatter most people, without any anchors to ground himself.

Six, no wonder her brother had issues.

“Galahd calls it The Draconian’s Rage.” Sola says, closing her eyes against the ache in her chest as she recalls those days. This time, it’s Noctis who squeezes her hand, wrapping her in love-comfort-safety, I’m-here-I’m-here. “Without anyone to ground me... I lost it.”

Noctis closes his arms around her, tucking her against his side, and she still hasn’t wrapped her head around the fact that he’s taller than her now. But the comfort is more than the hurt of lost years. “How bad?”

“Aracheole isn’t there anymore.” Sola says dryly. She’s not going into the details. The details would only hurt.

Just as the details of Noctis’ horrors would only hurt her. Sola knows what she’s been told by Cor and Papa, and she’s inferred a few things from the changes in Noctis’ magic and behavior.

She doesn’t need to know more. She doesn’t want to know more. Not when there’s nothing she can do.

That Sola destroyed an entire stronghold to its foundations is enough for Noctis to get the picture. His arms tighten around her, magic shuddering in horror and dawning realization.

Sola shouldn’t have been able to blow a hole in Aracheole’s wall. For all her unique magical abilities, Sola has never had power.

Noctis isn’t the only one with more magic than he had before. Even if the sheer depth to his magic, that she can only ever glimpse when they’re alone and tangling their magic together in reassurance that they’re both there, makes Sola want to weep. Because Noctis’ magic is so much deeper than her new reserves and the thought of her little brother suffering through even more of that agony...

He never should have had to endure that.

“How far?” Noctis’s grip is bordering uncomfortable, clinging desperately to Sola and the warmth-reassurance Sola wraps around him like a blanket.

“The Wanderer.” Hundreds of years. It’s why she weaves so often. None of the kings and queens before her wove tapestries, never wove at all. It lets Sola distinguish her present from past memories, lets her box it away in the back of her mind.

Lets the flashbacks and nightmares be hers.

Noctis manages to suppress his flinch, but not the sharp sorrow and guilt that spikes through his magic. Sola pushes silent acceptance and reassurance at him. It was her choice to reach so far. And perhaps if Noctis hadn’t been missing, perhaps if he’d been safe back in Insomnia, perhaps then Sola would’ve stopped at the Oracle.

But Noctis wasn’t safe. And there’s very little Sola won’t do for her brother.

She doesn’t regret it in the slightest.

“When I woke, everyone let me know what they thought of that stunt.” Even Hestia Ostium, Libertus’ Chieftess, gave her a tongue-lashing over the grief Sola’s actions had inflicted on her then-boyfriend.

From the huff behind her, Noctis fully agrees with everyone’s actions.

Brat.

“I knew Axis was an Amicitia shortly after I met him.” Sola confesses. “But I didn’t want a Shield. He didn’t want to be a Shield. So we ignored it.”

“Until Aracheole.”

Sola hums in agreement. “Axis introduced me to his kids as Aunt Sola, and told me I wasn’t allowed to die on my new nieces and nephews. And that I was terrible at watching my own back so he was going to watch it for me. Then we bonded.”

Noctis blinks, skeptical. “Just like that?”

Sola huffs. “No. I had to be convinced taking a Shield did not mean I was giving up on you or resigning as your Sword. But the trust had been there for years. Nyx and Tredd and Luche too. Took all of three days to bond with everyone. Quickest Retinue ever assembled.”

Not counting the seven years before she bonded with her Retinue, but the history books don’t count that. Morons.

“And they’re all fine being bonded to a Lucian princess?” Noctis asks, bemused.

Sola smirks up at him. “Not Lucian, little brother.” She taps the four beads at the front of her Ostium Chief braids. The shifting green and purple Galahdite, the purple-black charoite, the blue pearl, and the golden yellow citrine. “As far as Galahd is concerned, I’m their Chief. Simple as that.”

Well, not quite that simple. But she doesn’t feel like rehashing the complicated mess of being Chief to another Chief, on top of sorting out how to allow her Retinue to remain in their own Clans instead of dragging them into the Ostium.

Ladon had suggested creating a new Clan, but Sola shot it down immediately. She likes being an Ostium. Sola proposed to her husband, and she’s not giving up his last name. And she didn’t want to force her Retinue to leave their Clans either.

They’d figured it out eventually. After a lot of yelling. And a fistfight. Or two. Sola refuses to count Hestia breaking Ladon’s nose. Even Tredd admitted Ladon deserved it.

Noctis considers this for a moment. “So long as you’re happy.” He decides.

“I am.”

[draven-imani]

Journal 9

These last few days have been hectic, preparing to march to Drezen. Mapping out the route, checking and double-checking supplies, meeting with various key members of the legion, getting with Sosiel and Commander Tirabade Irabeth about tactics, and discussing with Nurah what she knows about any dangers around Drezen we should be on guard for. We also each got a boon from the Queen. Paints that can enhance Melody’s family weapon, a more powerful magic weapon for Luna and Hiskaria, and for me a mark of station—a helm with only a single eye hole, that on command can cast a charge of searing ray once daily before it needs to recharge. The One-Eyed Helm for the One-Eyed Knight.

Actually, I like it. It means I don’t have to wear that blasted uncomfortable eyepatch I thought I was going to have to suck it up and deal with. I can’t stand the feeling of fabric rubbing on my face all day long, it’s maddening. And with this I almost look the part of a commander, between the breastplate and the helm. Did I mention I decided to wear that gorgeous breastplate we’d found in the hidden Grey Garrison armory? At the time I know I wrote that I was hesitant to wear it because of some…personal hang ups. But it does look the part more than the ratty old chainmail. And if I’m going to ‘act confident’ I suppose looking confident is part and parcel, right? I might manage to look half as impressive as Leto with all of this. Minus the horse. It’s hard to look as impressive as someone on a mighty steed. Although he loses points for naming him Charlie Horse.

I’m off subject. What was I writing about today? Right.

Despite everything else, I’ve managed to find some time to gather up a little something to start paying back at least Melody and Luna a little for their actions in the Grey Garrison before we head out. Hiskaria’s going to be a bit more difficult.

I’m pleased with how Luna’s turned out. Once the forge was reopened, I had it commissioned right away. I actually got it started before the big attack when Queen Galfrey and her men arrived. See, in the Grey Garrison we found a composite longbow. I had kind of coveted it, I currently use a longbow on occasion but a composite bow would make much better use of my skills than a regular one. However we ended up deciding it would be best served going to Luna as she is the strongest. Which I’m not complaining about, it was a well thought out choice, and seeing as I have magic and Luna doesn’t it makes the most tactical sense. But—I still kind of want that bow.

So, I’m going to propose a trade for the one I originally wanted. For this one that I’ve had commissioned for her. I have it here, and I’m going to walk it over to her living place in a bit. They really did do a beautiful job on the wood working, I almost regret that I didn’t just buy one for myself as well. But that would have gotten expensive. Better to just trade her for what we have and save on the coin. Fatepiercer belongs with Luna.

***

Luna accepted my trade, although she did not accept it without an explanation. Something something ‘You’re not actually stupid why are you offering such a bad trade for yourself’. I did eventually have to come out and admit it was thanks for her ‘not giving a shit’ back in the scrying room, because that choice likely saved Leto’s life. After that she accepted the gift, although she threw in a couple of “masterwork oranges” along with the composite bow to make the trade a little more fair. Hey, whatever makes her feel better.

Why does she still have those oranges? Oh well, they were still good. They’ll probably keep for another day or two.

Her lizardfolk buddy was hanging around too, until she kicked him out. Don’t think I mentioned him. Skix. A kind of shifty chameleon man. Last time I met him, he tried to scam me into buying a bunch of old figures of heroes from some Numerian comic series. I was going to just pass, but then it turned out he was a friend of Luna, so I gave him the money with the intention of just leaving it at that, but he pressed the toys into my hands and then I had them whether I wanted them or not. Turns out Leto’s a fan, so now they’re on his desk instead.

Anyways, Luna kicked me out too, and I went to visit Melody next. I found her at Defender’s Heart, entertaining the troops with her dancing skills to keep up morale as she tends to do when the time presents itself. I admit, I’m a bit envious. I used to play the fiddle every few days at Defender’s Heart to keep spirits up, too, but I’ve been so busy with this blasted paperwork, on top of all the preparations for learning to lead a legion in three days.

Regardless, I found Melody as she finished a performance, and joined her an Sosiel’s table. The two Shelynites greeted me as cheerfully as ever. I complimented Melody’s performance, then slid her gift across the table. Two masterwork sets of artisan’s tools, a set of brushes for painting her spear with the special paints that enchant her familial weapon, and one for her calligraphy. She asked the occasion, to which I just said it was to show my gratitude. She didn’t press for once, to which I was grateful. So, to show a little more gratitude, I suggested if she felt up for it, we put on a little joint performance. Ballet is not my usual go to music, but I can play some slower styles when I really feel like it. And for a dance from Melody? Of course I could play a song.

After we finished that it was off to Hiskaria. The one I was most dreading.

The thing about Hiskaria? She only has one hobby I know of, and that’s graverobbing. What am I supposed to do with that? She already has a magic bow and quiver so I couldn’t exactly buy her a bow like I had for Luna. So I did the only thing I could.

I went to visit her while she was working with Aravashnial at the Blackwing. Aravashnial was in a great mood, by the way. Having his eyesight back really put a bounce in his step.

Anyways, I swallowed my pride and thanked her directly. And asked if she wanted anything of me.

What was it Anevia said? It hurt worse than a broken leg?

Hiskaria said she didn’t need anything from me, that in a way she was getting a second lot on life just being here with us. But that if I could heal her up in battle that would be nice. And maybe cut her some slack in the morning as her commander.

Yeah. I guess I am her commanding officer now, aren’t I? Weird to think, seeing as I’m probably about half her age. Which she was quick to point out too. Fair, I suppose, especially given the differences in how tieflings age from half-elves. I’ve seen that first hand growing up with Leto, and he’s much closer to my age than Hiskaria’s.

Anyways, I laughed it off. Because if she thinks there’s going to be any time to relax during a march she is going to be in for a nasty surprise in a couple of days. I’ll let her figure it out first hand though.

Now I’m back to paperwork, and a certain golden boy chattering my ear off, while I have made it my mission to not listen to a single word. I suppose I should actually be doing my paperwork instead of writing this. But I am dreadfully bored and—

here there are a number of scribbles, as if the pen was scratched across the paper quite a few times. The writing continues on the next page

Leto caught me writing and tried to take my quill for slacking. He looks as pleased as the cat that swallowed the canary now. He has ink on his nose from almost knocking over my well, and I’m not going to let him know. Let him walk around with green smudged on his face for a bit. Serves him right.

[quicksilversquared]

The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 1

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock... doesn't exactly know that.

links in the reblog

Ever since Miracle Queen's akumatization, Gabriel Agreste had been feeling pretty optimistic about his now-improved chances of defeating the superheroes. While he had lost the box of Miraculous because of his poorly-thought-through gamble with Miracle Queen, he had made other gains.

He knew who Ladybug's backup teammates had been, and could use that against them should they show up again. He had gotten the digital copy of the Grimoire, which was- well, maybe it was only partially translated, and some things still seemed to be in code, but it had some pretty interesting information in it, like what powers the other Miraculous- the ones that he hadn't seen in action yet- had. And best of all, because of the Grimoire, he had gotten the Peacock Miraculous fixed and now Nathalie could join him on a much more regular basis without putting her own health at risk. He had figured that that should be enough for them to secure a victory within a week, or at most a month, if things went really badly.

It had been five months and the superheroes weren't giving any ground, standing solid as they fought akumas and sentimonsters alike. It. Was. Infuriating. And for a man like Gabriel, who wasn't particularly patient to start with...

Well, some days it felt like anything could set him off. They should have won by now, darn it. They were two adults up against two kids. Getting their Miraculous should have been like taking candy from a baby... and yet it wasn't.

Across the room, Nathalie coughed, pulling his attention away from the grimoire and the hints for the potion ingredients that still seemed to be listed in some sort of ridiculous code. Gabriel glanced over at her, and Nathalie gave him an apologetic grimace before returning to her work.

She had had this dratted cold for at least two months now, and no, it wasn't just him exaggerating out of annoyance. It had started small- just a small cough here and there and the occasional sneeze, or the need for her to finish a day early because she wasn't feeling well- and gotten gradually worse. He had hoped that she might have recovered at least a bit over the weekend, but instead she had come to work looking substantially worse than before.

While he had tolerated her coughing before- after all, she was helping him out with his mission and previously getting sick because of it- coughing from a common cold was simply annoying. It was grating and disruptive and kept pulling him out of his concentration. He hadn't said anything about it yet, of course- it was not, after all, Nathalie's fault, she didn't want to be sick- but it was annoying nonetheless.

Gabriel reached across the desk for his phone and ordered a large ginger-honey tea and a bag of cough drops for Nathalie. Maybe that would help quell her coughing.

Now, back to the grimoire... what on earth could they mean by tears of joy...?

Seven minutes later, the tea and cough drops arrived and were promptly delivered to Nathalie's desk. She murmured a quiet thank you. The chef nodded, then retreated from the room at once. As soon as the office door swung shut behind him, Gabriel could feel Nathalie's gaze slide to him.

"I take it you're annoyed by my coughing, sir?"

"It is a bit disruptive, you have to admit," Gabriel told her, finally deciding to put a flag on the potion ingredients section (really, he could only puzzle out about half of them, it was ridiculous and Nooroo apparently had no idea what the infernal clues were referring to either) and move on. He was severely behind on his design work, so perhaps he would do that for a while. "So I came up with a potential solution for it. Is that a problem?"

"No." Nathalie considered her tea, then took a small sip and made a face. "Though I might have preferred to order my own tea. This one...is not a favorite of mine."

"It is what many people recommend online for a sore throat. I thought it would be best, considering how long this cough seems to be lingering."

Nathalie opened her mouth like she was going to comment on that, then clearly decided against it. A moment later, she smothered a yawn. "I suppose that makes sense."

Gabriel frowned. "Is your cold still not getting any better? It's been months."

"Not particularly. I haven't been congested, which is a relief. But-" She yawned widely again, then frowned. "And I've been sleeping fine! I don't know what the issue is."

"Well, maybe you should finish what you're doing and then take off for the day," Gabriel suggested, both because he was tired of the coughing and, well, if Nathalie was feeling poorly and coughing that much, then the smart thing for her to do would be to go home and not infect the rest of the house. If that was even possible, considering how long she had been feeling under the weather. "Get some rest, and come back when you're feeling better."

"And if there's an akuma attack?" Nathalie asked, straightening and frowning at him. "I don't want to be the reason you miss out on winning, simply because there wasn't a sentimonster there to assist."

"If you're awake and able to take a break to help from home, then that would be much appreciated," Gabriel decided after a moment's consideration. "Thank you."

"Of course, sir." Nathalie glanced back at her screen, did a few quick clicks, and then downed her entire cup of tea in one go. "I've come to a decent stopping point. Anything else can be finished at home."

"You're meant to be resting," Gabriel reminded her. "The work can wait. And the company does have plenty of secretaries, we can always assign some of your work to them. Actually- yes, if you're feeling up to it, it would be nice to get a list of what can be done by others. Then I can reassign those things right away and get them checked off before we get too far behind."

"I'll have an initial list done by the evening." Nathalie did a couple more clicks, then shut her computer and started gathering up her things. "Text me if you're going to akumatize someone, and what their powers are going to be. Then I can come up with a complimentary sentimonster. I can set up an alert on my phone so I won't miss it."

"Thank you." Gabriel watched as Nathalie packed up her computer, then rose to open the door for her. "Keep me updated on how you're feeling, okay? And don't push yourself too hard to come back early. You do better work when you're not ill."

"Of course." Nathalie nodded to him, then headed out the door. Gabriel watched her go for a moment, then turned and headed back to his work.

Maybe he really should spend the rest of the day focusing on his designing. After all, if Nathalie was sick, it was probably only a matter of time before he got ill as well. And Gabriel no longer designed when he was unwell, for- well, for a multitude of reasons.

(He had only just managed to get fully out from the shadow of the infamous Cold Medicine Dress of '02 recently. Misstepping and having a repeat of that particular incident would not reflect well on the company.)

Actually, now that he was thinking about it, it was better to be safe than sorry. Reaching for his phone again, Gabriel ordered an array of multivitamins for himself, plus a bottle of hand sanitizer for his desk. He also requested that the maid to come in early and wipe down Nathalie's work area, just in case.

Some might call it overkill. Gabriel was simply of the opinion that it was better to be proactive than reactive.

  Five days later, and Nathalie was still feeling under the weather. She had even fainted later in the week, she admitted to Gabriel when he called to check in on her. And she swore that she had been resting properly and getting plenty of sleep.

"It's been really odd," she told him two days later, after dropping into the mansion to collect a few more things to work on from home. "I've not been congested or had a runny nose at all, and that- that's a hallmark of cold and flus, right? And there's not been a fever at all." She frowned, clearly reluctant to continue, but she forged on anyway. "It almost feels like- like a slow onset of- no, that can't be it. It's impossible, I shouldn't even think about it."

Gabriel frowned for a moment, about to snap at her to just spit it out, and then it hit him like a train. Tiredness, weakness, fainting, feeling sick but not congested or snotty at all- those were all things that they had seen before.

Like a slow onset of using the Peacock when it was broken.

He wouldn't want to say that out loud, either. That sort of possibility...

But he had fixed it!

"Nathalie, do you think..." Gabriel started, then trailed off, entirely unsure of what he wanted to say. The Peacock causing the problems should have been an impossibility, but- well, how were they meant to test that? Because they had to test it, before Nathalie got any sicker. "Perhaps we should hold off on any further involvement from the Peacock for the time being, and return the brooch to the safe? Just in case."

"But Ladybug and Chat Noir!" Nathalie protested. "And this could be a cold, but there was just some damage still from using the Peacock before and it's gotten snarled up in the cold? Or maybe it's just lingering effects that are rearing their head. Because you fixed the Peacock, it should be perfectly safe to use."

"I know, but we should test it." Gabriel didn't like the idea, either, considering that it meant no sentimonsters assisting him. He would double-wield, but Nooroo had told him that it wasn't the best idea. Besides, if something had gone wrong in the fixing, he didn't exactly want to risk his own health. Particularly if he was going to be going out to assist his akumas to try to tip the scales in his favor. "I wonder if a couple weeks without using the Peacock would be enough for us to draw a conclusion about if that's at the root of the problem, or if we might need longer."

Nathalie was frowning. "But sir, if we just go back to akuma-only attacks- right now, we still have the advantage. Ladybug and Chat Noir haven't managed to fully rebuild and retrain a backup team yet because we've kept up the pressure on them. If we let up on the pressure, that could let them catch back up. We have to keep up on the attacks."

"And I'll do that, with the akumas." Gabriel's mind was made up now. He couldn't risk having Nathalie getting sicker. Besides, what if it was something more serious, like- well, perhaps like cancer? He wasn't sure what signs of cancer were, really, but those kinds of symptoms seemed like the sort of thing that cancer would maybe cause. At this point, he honestly wasn't sure what was the worse option, cancer or the Peacock somehow malfunctioning again. "And I want you to go to the doctor and get tests run. We want to come at this from all angles. Maybe it is just a cold, but we want to be sure."

"I can have the tests run without giving up the Miraculous," Nathalie protested. "Wouldn't it make sense to at least check and see if there's something else going on before we jump the gun and take the Peacock off of the battlefield? And what if it's just a cold and I coincidentally get better after I'm not wearing it? There's no real way to test anything."

That was fair enough, Gabriel supposed. He tapped his lips, considering.

They could, of course, just go off of whether or not Nathalie got sick again once she resumed using the Peacock- assuming, of course, that her health improved after she took it off. But that would be putting her at risk again, and he didn't particularly want to do that. If they had another ally, they could always have that person use the Peacock while Nathalie recovered. If it made them ill, then he would simply have to lock it away, or attempt to do another fix on it.

Except- oh. He had almost forgotten, but technically they did have another person on their side! She wouldn't be his first choice in most circumstances, but the number of people who would actually go along with Hawkmoth's plans was limited and he couldn't be too picky.

"We can have our other ally test it," Gabriel announced grandly, quite pleased with himself for coming up with the plan. "Then I'll continue to have a Peacock by my side, and if they get sick, too, we'll know what the problem is."

Nathalie frowned, puzzled. "Another ally? Who? The Gorilla?"

"No, no, of course not!" Gabriel snapped, somewhat exasperated that she hadn't immediately caught on. Adrien's bodyguard was loyal to the family, sure, but not that loyal. He'd turn them into the authorities in a second if he found out about Gabriel and Nathalie being the city's supervillains. "Are you crazy? He would never support this. Think harder- the only person besides us who has willingly been akumatized!"

Nathalie only had to think for a moment, and then her eyes went wide. "Lila Rossi? But sir, isn't she, ah..." She tilted her head to the side, considering how to word her concerns. Gabriel chuckled.

"Spiteful? Petty? Childish? Perhaps. But she's also hell-bent on revenge against Ladybug at the moment, has no moral compass, and is very easy to manipulate. She wouldn't think twice about taking on a Miraculous and using it regularly." Gabriel was liking the idea more and more, really. If Lila got sick, it was really no skin off of his nose. Her use to him in her civilian form was starting to wear thin, and she was regularly gumming up the works in the photoshoots that she took part in. Her no longer being allowed to model due to health reasons would be a bonus, not a concern. "I would know who she is, she wouldn't know who I am, and if she tries to step out of line, I know who her mom is." He had an entire file folder on Mrs. Rossi and her ex-husband, plus some information on Lila's extended family. If she tried to take the Miraculous and run... well, he knew exactly where to look. "A few well-placed threats, and she would fall right back in line. She could take over the Peacock's duties for a month or two to give us the chance to figure out if your health has anything to do with the Miraculous."

"It seems risky," Nathalie commented after a moment. "I mean, I don't doubt that you'd be able to control her, at least in the long term. But what if she goes out and joins the fight? She's ruled by her emotions, it seems, and she might not think through the possible consequences." She snorted. "Actually, never mind might- she won't think through the consequences. Add in the fact that she'll only be able to be out for five minutes after she creates a sentimonster..."

"It's not ideal," Gabriel acknowledged. "But your health is important. This will allow us to ensure that the Peacock is safe to use going forward, while still providing me with some degree of backup."

Nathalie sighed, then very quickly slid into a nearby chair before she could collapse after her legs wobbled. "I suppose. I want to say that I'm just being paranoid, but this is just a little too similar for my comfort."

"It is. It's not just you." Gabriel tapped his fingers against his leg, trying to consider everything. He would bring the Miraculous over that evening, once dark had fallen. "Anything else to consider? You've dealt with Ms. Rossi more than I have."

"Just that she thinks that she's a master manipulator and will probably think that she's capable of tricking you," Nathalie warned after a minute's consideration. "Every time I talk with her, she has this look on her face that just screams that she thinks we're dancing to her tune. Something like that could be a liability. She could think that she can get away with more, unless you're very clear with her about how she doesn't fool you one bit from the start."

"True." Her delusions had to be very thoroughly stomped out. Perhaps he should record their entire interaction when he gave her the Peacock, just for blackmail purposes. One foot out of line, and he could get her in quite a lot of trouble. Working with a supervillain would not be taken lightly. "I'll do that. And if she decides to act out and cross Hawkmoth... well, she'll regret it."

  Just like he had suspected, Lila had been all too willing to take over the Peacock duties. He hadn't told her why, other than Mayura was temporarily unavailable and unable to fight, but that wasn't information that she had to have. Perhaps she would have accepted despite the potential risks- Lila seemed hotheaded enough for that to be a very real possibility- but he wasn't willing to risk her turning him down.

Gabriel smiled to himself as he tucked away a copy of the recording of his visit to Lila away in a safe spot. He had her right where he wanted her, and if his read on her emotions was anything to go off of- which it was, his magic emotion detector was very reliable- then she wouldn't be acting out or attempting to double-cross him. Lila had promised to make it to every akuma battle that she could- she was very interested in seeing Ladybug's downfall, after all- and to exercise some common sense about what she could and couldn't handle, since Hawkmoth would be very displeased with her if she lost the Peacock... and besides, being unmasked as a supervillain in that way wouldn't go well for her, either. Being defeated and unmasked as an akuma didn't ever get anyone in trouble, but if she had had a Miraculous...

Lila had turned sheet-white at that thought. Clearly even she wasn't cocky enough to think that she would be able to get away with something like that.

All in all, it had gone pretty well, Gabriel thought. Soon enough, they should know if using the Peacock was still a problem, or if Nathalie could reclaim it. If it went well, and if they ever managed to get their hands on another Miraculous- one of the ones that the superheroes always pulled out as their backups- then they would have a third team member trained and waiting in the wings.

He truly hoped that it would go well. If it went really, really poorly... well, he might just end up regretting this whole thing.

[uwua3]

hi bunnie! can i first just say that your name and blog are both so dang cute aaaa 🥺 can i request a best friend!izumi hc? 🥺👉👈 thank you so much 💛

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! YOU ARE THE CUTEST PERSON EVER~ i am in Love With You !!! also omg IZUMI ♡u♡ she is the Best Girl ever but #AllGirlsAreBestGirls !!! i love her so much, i’m so glad this was requested!!! i am so happy to write this ♡ PLEASE LOVE IZUMI!

summary: together, you and the currian are unstoppable! watching the cooking channel with your best friend just got even better

author’s note: i hope you love this 🥺 i am genuinely so soft over izumi she deserves the whole world

count how many times i say curry, it isn’t even Funny at this point T___T anyways, i was a bit nervous over this because i hadn’t watched the anime, so i didn’t know izumi well as a character! if all else fails, use the traits you know to the best of your ability! i love our curry queen regardless, though~

word count: 2,001

music: good as hell – lizzo ft. ariana grande

my best friend.

🍛 tachibana izumi

you, funny enough, met izumi at the grocery store in the spices aisle

you were unable to decide between which spices were necessary for the curry recipe you were about to attempt, staring at your phone screen with obvious confusion

what was the difference between each type of curry? which one was better? you scrolled down, reading off the countries,

“india, thailand, malaysia, china, south africa, japan...” you mumbled inaudibly before you heard a very distinct crash in the next aisle over. someone must’ve just hit their cart into a display or—

you saw a girl with long brown hair and pink eyes with... wait... were her pupils heart–shaped? you stumbled back as she approached like she was on a mission, standing a mere few feet from you as she smiled pleasantly at you like the situation wasn’t out of the ordinary at all

(oh no... was she one of those pyramid scheme scammers?)

“are you making curry?!” she questioned, leaning forward to glance at your screen only to squeal in excitement at the confirmation. you gulped, nodding with a tinge of doubtful fear

if you said yes, were you about to be attacked right here and now in the middle of a grocery store? you just wanted some curry...

“i’m so happy for you! do you need help? i know the perfect combination of spices for any type of curry! i can make a different curry for each day of the year!” she offered to help, putting her hands together with a pleading look like she was dying to talk about curry

you nodded again and her entire face lit up again, going off on a rant without taking a moment to breathe

she was so knowledgable on all types of curry! you took notes diligently, deciding on japanese chicken katsu curry as the meal for tonight

when you told her, she clapped her hands and giddily jumped up and down. it was honestly refreshing to see someone so enthusiatic about food!

“i’m sorry for randomly talking to you, but i just love curry! do you need help looking for the rest of the items?” she offered to help, already with an armful of the spices you needed and dumped them into your cart

you pondered, thinking as you looked at the girl. she was nice enough, and clearly wasn’t much of a threat if she was willing to approach a stranger without any discomfort

why not? you smiled, offering your hand out to shake as you introduced yourself. she took it quickly, enthusiatically shaking it up and down as she giggled

“izumi! glad to meet you!”

from that point forward, you two became best friends for life!

izumi was the life of the party and brought happiness wherever she went. not only that, but she was incredibly polite and kind! it wasn’t everyday you met a girl that was full of life and always determined to overcome any obstacle in her path!

izumi would go through anything and everything for her friends despite how busy she was 24/7. she juggled being the mankai director (which was babysitting 20 boys), helping other acting troupes, and cooking at night but still made time to see you at least every week

you weren’t surprised when you were encouraged to come over for a company dinner one night and saw so. many. variations. of curry set up at the table. like the other boys, you attempted to hide your grimace (but very poorly, you weren’t a trained actor like the rest of the entourage was)

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” izumi’s motherly instincts kicked in as she hurried to put her hand against your forehead. you had to pretend like you were coming down with a cold the rest of the week and forced the curry down your throat

(the boys secretly gave you water under the table, whispering advice on how to bear it and grin as they made up fake situations to pass your chair)

(the high schoolers just looked relieved to not be the victim that night)

(seriously... so. many. variations.)

(every time you were invited to a meet–up, you texted the groupchat named “stop the currian” to see if izumi was making curry)

(she always was. you still ate it because you loved her too much to say no)

but other than curry, izumi loved cooking! she was subscribed to sooo many culinary and baking channels on youtube. she loved sending you links with a follow–up text that said: “wanna make this tonight? i know you want to eat it! ;)”

(you complained about how it always ended in a minor food fight you had to clean up. you still let her in when she knocked on your front door with bags of groceries)

(after so many visits, izumi was beginning to be proficient at other forms of culinary like baking since you enjoyed it so much)

one time, you even convinced izumi to make her own youtube channel. you had set up a camera omi loaned on a tripod, acting as the best cameraman ever of course

(you had a clapperboard that had the production titled, “izumi is replacing bon appétit’s claire” with take 1 freshly written)

“you got this, izumi!” you encouragedly put a fist in the air, “fighting!”

izumi nodded cutely, wearing her favorite striped shirt with a pastel pink apron. she held a automatic whisk in her right and was already posing with a mixing bowl in her left, ready to demonstrate how to make your favorite dessert

(maybe you suggested the idea because you wanted food, who knows?)

counting down vocally, you watched as your fingers dropped down to a zero and the red light on the camera started blinking. it was go time, and izumi immediately got into action

“hello, everyone! my name is tachibana izumi and today we will be making—”

the camera fell off the stand as izumi’s whisk flew out of her hand and smacked the lense directly in the middle. a sickening thud echoed through the apartment as you two stood in shock, staring at the expensive camera with unease. it didn’t look... uh... functional?

you quickly put your finger on your nose since it was an unspoken rule that touching your nose automatically meant opting out. you were a second earlier than izumi as she gasped like she was offended

“i am not telling omi!” izumi freaked out, running over but the damage was already done. the camera definitely didn’t turn on anymore

(you and izumi bought the same camera that day and switched the memory cards) (omi raised his eyebrows at the sudden newness of his trusty camera, but didn’t say anything as he just took it and thanked you for bringing it back safe)

(yeah... omi definitely knew. but, he wasn’t too bothered to say anything about it)

(“izumi? what did you spend so much money on last month?” sakyo reviewed her financial statement, watching as she nervously sweat and glanced at omi. he just shrugged like he had no idea)

so you two stuck to mindlessly watching the cooking channel on the tv. it was the usual weekend: becoming insecure over the unreal and extremely talented kid bakers who made a whole 3–tier cake in two hours, making fun of america’s worst chefs when they didn’t know how to cut a chicken, and yelling at cheating cooks who were way too competitive on chopped

it was better that way, anyways. maybe going viral on the internet wasn’t meant for everyone. you still got your dessert, much to your satisfaction

(“yeah, yeah. it’s only because you’re my best friend.” izumi laughed, shoving the plate with extra servings as you stuffed your face. she just fondly rolled her eyes as you tried saying thanks with your mouth full)

(“gross!” izumi squealed, throwing the kitchen mitts at you as you fought back, nearly hitting her with one of the pastries. you already know what happens next. izumi stopped baking for you for a long time [a month] as punishment)

speaking of baking, izumi loved making the most ridiculous cakes you’ve ever seen in your entire life

on random days, she’d make the most creative cupcakes ever with individual designs with meticulous attention to detail

(izumi always had to slap masumi’s hands away from the white box she’d set aside specifically for you. he’d pout, hurt, wondering why she didn’t make any food other than curry for him)

(“masumi... you really need to look at other girls.” you remembered advising him, sympathetically patting his back as he angrily accused you of being in love with izumi, too! to this day, it’s still awkward on your end when you see masumi and he thinks you’re his lifelong competitor)

but on important celebrations like your birthday and anniversaries, her cakes were... something. they’d be the most delicious things on earth, but the design would be comically ugly. she’d put the most bare minimum art ever and write the words way too big and it wouldn’t fit. there were always misspellings. maybe it was a curse for being so well–rounded?

another fun fact was you and izumi were the ultimate power duo! whenever you two went to hang out in public, you always made sure some creep wasn’t staring at her and she did the same for you all the time

as friends, it was your job to make sure you two were as safe and sound as possible

(one time, an absolute douchebag tried to wolf whistle her and izumi had to stop you from getting into a fight in broad daylight)

izumi was way too nice. she was such a selfless person and often acted like the big sister you never had. she was always ready with the most agreeable advice and showed up with her arms open. she was so giving, it was easy to see why everyone loved her

but you liked giving back, too! (much to her surprise) you even tried your hand at making some new form of curry by throwing in random spices and calling it a day, but you realized she was the most critical judge ever for any type of curry

(you stopped making curry for her. she would narrow her eyes and push her imaginary glasses up like an anime character. it was terrifying, she always appreciated it but... you shuddered, izumi was scary)

once, you even rented that curry truck to come by for her birthday! you never saw someone look like they were this close to passing out from maximum happiness

(you even bought a director’s chair for her with izumi bedazzled across the back)

(she now sits in it to get that extra confidence boost before a big show)

but the most important gift that kept on giving was spending quality time with izumi when she needed it most

when the anniversary of her father going missing came back around, you were the first person at her room. with curry you knew she liked from that really one obscure place and all the time that day to make sure she way okay

(she was such a big sister! izumi always claimed she was fine and it was just another normal day, but you were always there to provide comfort she didn’t even know she needed)

you took time out of your day to help her with all her mudane tasks after you saw she once physically fainted from tiredness

(it almost gave you a heart attack the first time, but then you noticed tsuzuru also did that too so it must’ve been something in the mankai dorm air)

you then became a well known figure in the theatre community as “izumi’s best friend”

(you were not upset with that title at all, in fact, you hoped it never changed)

who knew you’d meet your best friend forever at a grocery store? over curry nonetheless?

(yes, you’re izumi’s best friend, but it doesn’t mean you’re exempt from the spices rant)

[barbika1508]

Hiwaga (Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader)

Part 1

Words: 11,1 k

Genre: Soulmate AU, Reincarnation AU, Enemies to Lovers, Action, Romance, Smut

Pairing: Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader

Warnings: Brief mentions of smut, Cursing

Summary: Life was good, playing out better than it has been ever before. My future was bright and full of promises and wishes coming to realization. All up until she showed up. She stormed though the front doors ruining everything along the way by her mere presence derailing my goals and purpose in life. A puny mortal, a child, a complete nuisance, and yet…The key to an unimaginable life, to the truth all along.

Author's note: Hiwaga – mystery; full of wonder Words in italics are dialogues or thoughts that Jeongguk reads from others. So I’ve done research with this fic, and used certain words that need explanation…given that there can be A LOT I’ve put a dictionary just below the fic if anyone is interested :3

Jeongguk’s POV:

‘’Stop it.’’

I barely flinch at the hiss the presence that settles on my left expected, to which my glare remains unfaltering ‘’She’s just…infuriating.’’ I sigh quietly, trying to relax my clenched jaw but just settle right back into pressing my teeth tight together while my fingers curl into fists, annoyance brewing.

‘’Why is that?’’ the question has me rolling my eyes inside my head, as I shift onto my right foot and away from the broad-shouldered vampire, keeping my composure in case of anyone looking towards us.

‘’I don’t know, I just really, really don’t like her.’’ I grumble glaring at the girl that’s grinning widely showing of her blunt teeth advertising to everyone that she’s not like us. She’s literally making herself a bait, even though Yoongi hyung made sure she was doused in his scent not even an hour ago.

She’s chatting away with a middle-aged guy, his wife looking interested as she eyes the regular girl up and down her thoughts not promising anything good. Right now, I’m cursed having the abilities that I have, easily reading through the crowd of people that’s surrounding us. I hate big gatherings, or any gatherings for that matter. Its bothersome to keep my concentration up at all times, to prevent all the voices from flooding my mind. Well except for hers. Not hearing her thoughts, is one of the most infuriating things.

‘’We know that Jeongguk-ah. It’s been a well-known fact since the moment she stepped a foot past the front doors.’’ Jin hyung chuckles clearly amused by my brooding and misery, as I recall not even a month ago how she loudly shrieked a greeting, and then just ran up to Yoongi hyung. He offered her a SMILE! HE SMILED AT HER AND LET HER HUG HIM!!!

The scene as I remember it is still bizarre and sort of unrealistic. How easily everyone accepted her, even though she isn’t of our kin. We’ve turned away, orphaned fairies, witches and even shapeshifting dragons which could have given us great amounts in the power dynamic. And yet there’s Y/N. Ugh even her name has me rolling my shoulder back, as my nose briefly scrunches, Jin hyungs hand landing on my shoulder reminds me that I need to keep a calmer attitude. Glancing over to him he’s completely amused as he looks at me.

‘’You are stewing in your anger without a real purpose youngling.’’ He teases the nickname a pain in the ass ‘’Relax, Jeonggukie.’’ He leans in closer still smirking but looks me directly in the eyes hovering up close There’s plenty of girls here. Some with royal statues or skills you can only ever imagine of. he wiggles his eyebrows at me suggestively. This time around I do roll my eyes for him to see, shaking my shoulders and him off as he ends up giggling not taking offense in my behaviour.

In a regular setting or just a regular gathering as this one is, I wouldn’t miss any single opportunity to tease him, or make fun of him blatantly but given the new guests I’m not in the mood whatso ever.

I do look at the wives, girlfriends, mistresses of our guests that fill our spacious ballroom besides the variation of men, that had me tune out their thoughts the moment the first 5 arrived. And granted they are all gorgeous, youthful, pale complexion mostly with vibrant eyes full of life, and deadly fangs poking from their lips proudly. My jaw unclenches, while I raise my chin up in interest once a blonde girl, walks past us quite a distance but I don’t miss how she flutters her eyes towards me, keeping on a shy smile which is a pretence but the visual has my attention. Her long blonde hair is cascading down over her exposed shoulder the ends curled up meticulously. Her front is a bit on the flatter side, figure smooth and flawless as the red wine dress that’s running and falling down her body like an endless seem of water while a thin vail that covers it, sparkles in the lights at times making her look more out of this world.

I raise an eyebrow in curiosity ready to start this game of chase. Watching intently, she offers a wider smirk steps slowing down, when suddenly she disappears from my view thanks to the group of chattering vampires ahead of us. Looking left and right she doesn’t pop up. Interesting.

‘’That’s it Jeongguk-ah. Our fearless maknae on the prowl.’’ Jin pats me over my back smirking his words making me smile but from half embarrassment and half amusement ‘’You know I’ve picked up on certain gossip that’s been floating around.’’ The implication has me turning to my older hyung fully in curiosity.

‘’Do spill thou secrets, dearest hyung.’’ another voice replies, Taehyung joining the two of us smirking knowingly. He probably knows where this is going, being the coven’s expert gossiper and a professional drama queen so to speak. He knows the ins and outs of the vampire world, dipping his toes into the werewolf pack’s and mere-folk communities as of lately. I simply slide my hands into the pockets of the black suit creased trousers I have on. I paired my outfit with a black long-sleeved saint Laurens shirt, and over it I’ve gone with a white suit jacket with golden detailing on it.

Jin hyung has gone more with a professional (regal) look, wearing a midnight black 5-piece suit, with the difference in the dress shirt which is a darker purple colour. The tie he has one, is more visibly purple adorned in small golden accessories that state which clan he belongs to by the logo being pined near the knot. He’s not only displaying regal colours but also the wealth, the rank and honour that was given to him, when he reached a milestone in his old age which not many vampires do anymore. The status and extra titles are appointed according to age and actions and Jin hyung has made it pretty high on both of those simple to-do lists as I’d like to call them.

Taehyung on the other hand is like me dressed in all black, going with a matching 2-piece suit lacking the suit jacket which leaves him in a more of a blouse type of dress shirt that has white squares doted randomly across. He has tucked the shirt into the slightly high waisted trousers, which makes shapes up his figure to the tens.

He quirks an eyebrow as he smiles mischievous standing on Jin hyungs left, giving me a knowing look.

‘’Rumour has it, amongst our lovely ladies mainly but in a wider circle nonetheless…’’

‘’Meaning everyone, yes hyung.’’ Taehyung pips in encouragingly licking his lips as he points his stare at the elder. I quickly shush him smirking as I glance between the two Taehyung grinning while Jin shakes his head but remains humoured.

‘’…it is said, that after a night with our Jeonggukie here, even as a vampire you’ll be having problems walking the next day.’’ His eyes are fixated on me gauging my reaction while I meet Taehyung’s gaze just knowing exactly what he normally would say. I don’t even have to read his mind to know.

But he loudly snorts instead ‘’You’ve left out the juicy part of the rumours hyung.’’ I lift my chin up again but look away from the two trying to see and detect if anyone is listening into our conversation. There’s a group of vampires that is standing close to us. Some have picked up on our talk but they are occupied discussing something else that has their complete attention, two women snickering to themselves quietly ‘’Our Jeonggukie even though is the cutest and the most innocent looking as a cherub doesn’t cuddle. Or kiss after he’s done fucking your brains out. How about that?’’

Turning back to the two, the elder gives me a disapproving look meanwhile Taehyung is strictly mirthful clearly finding this amusing ‘’I’m not looking for love. It’s simply an exchange of pleasantries and then it’s back to regularities.’’ I shrug turning away as the dark-haired vampire coos, chuckling while Jin hyung who has dyed his hair into a faint purple colour tsks.

‘’Oiii we didn’t raise you like that young man.’’ He chides while my eyes finding the blonde once more. Her gaze is already on me, clearly taking me in up and down shamelessly ogling me. To keep this interesting I refrain from reading into her mind, and offer a smirk back, taking her in as well. She’s joined into a conversation which she barely participates once our gazes interlock ‘’Yahhhh don’t ignore us! Don’t prove those rumours right!!!’’

‘’Let him be hyung.’’ Taehyung defends me, chuckling ‘’He’ll learn eventually, after getting punched into the balls enough times.’’

That has me quirking both eyebrows in question as I turn to the black haired male, his hair having grown out making him look all the more attractive in the period of a few months since he let it grow ‘’Have you learned that from experience hyung?’’ now I’m the one amused at the implication. But the mischief simply rolls of him.

‘’it’s a possibility.’’ He challenges back ‘’But it’s also well known what a gentleman I am first and foremost.’’ he wiggles his eyebrows, right hand rising up fingers wiggling, the suggestion obvious which has Jin let out a dry laugh.

‘’You younglings are just so cocky.’’ The elder condemns crossing his arms.

‘’Ah hyung I’m sure you were the same as we were at one point in your long and richly filled life.’’ Taehyung half sings stepping closer to the taller male, that simply smirks, his gaze now trained forward onto someone ignoring the antics of the younger vampire who cuddles up to him. I mimic our hyung turning forward in search of the blonde again, that once more has disappeared. Damn.

‘’I’m not telling you animals anything. You’d only take it as a challenge. And then I’ll just have more work to do cleaning after you.’’ Jin ends up grumbling the bickering going on put to the back of my mind.

With the wine-red colour in mind, I scan the growing crowd finding 4 more girls with a similar dress offering gleeful smiles, and even winks in return. Even though they look nice, I can’t help but to want to find the blonde. She had this quirky smile to her, and the fact that she put on an innocent face has me guessing she’s into something kinkier than she’d led onto.

Just as I’m about to head forward and find her by myself my intentions gets stopped.

‘’Oh, waw would you look at that.’’ Only now I notice that my two brothers have fallen silent, and are both staring ahead at something at the same time. Glancing at the two, Jin is amused while Tae’s expression is sort of blank. I follow their line of sight, finding an odd pair near middle of the room conversing. My blood runs cold at the sight. The 4 men that surround them are obviously body guards, the notion simply a sign of his power whilst is completely useless.

I sigh through my nose as other’s thoughts fill my mind, the curiosity and excitement and want for bloodshed rising in each and every vampire in the room.

The vampire that’s in the middle of the 4 man is Wangseja. Nobody actually knows his real name, as far as I know and have been told it’s been centuries so everyone just addresses him by his title. He is a descendant of the royal family, and has been meant to inherit the throne in his human life time. But obviously as he’s still here, breathing and undead something must have happened for him to have has to stray away from the human world and path of life.

He is not the only vampire that’s considered being one of the oldest here. There are a few more in this very room, one being our Yoongi hyung, and Jin following just close behind, after 3 others.

The 8 gifted with the title ‘elders’ are considered being in charge, with everything that’s regarding our vampire community and largely covens as they’ve tried to portray it as if we’re families. Which we aren’t. Coven wars still happen most often than some would like, and not enough to others.

Back to the former crown prince, he’s wearing a Gonryongpo which translates to Dragon Robe. He has the famous yellow dragon woven over his back which simply makes me assume that even though he puts on a friendly face and demander he’s a cocky asshole. He must be. Those clothes are generalized as robes that government officials and royalty wore but it’s well known that they were mainly emperors clothing. A bit pompous if you ask me.

Of course, the other 8 elders are dressed similarly to him, but in comparison they are dressed in downgraded versions.

His colours are the ones of red and to my misfortune of not being able to make fun of him later he isn’t wearing the traditional hat along his attire. He is however strapped with a Samjeongdo at his side. Again, it's all telling me he's a prick. I don’t even have to peek into his mind to see him as a sheep in wolfs clothing. A dangerous sheep with incredible power nonetheless. My nose scrunches up as his laughter can be heard all the way here, the ballroom having gotten quieter, everyone’s attention and ears focused in on the conversation at hand, the odd pair presenting curiosity amidst my kin. I bet the next gossip is going to revolve solemnly onto what’s happening right now. Ugh, great.

The girl that’s standing before him sports a bright smile unbothered by the many eyes that are fixated on her, taking in every error that’s marked over her skin, every imperfection that lies over her features and hair that even though has been styled looks messy to me.

She stands out from everyone else, simply by the colour choice of her dress which happens to be a soft lilac that edges on white, and grey. Ridiculous!

The ladies in the room, are for the most part dressed in designer clothing, with jewels, glitters, and modern sewing, styled to perfection which is an overused word, but that’s just what vampires tend to do. Dress to impress, every detail smoothened and detailed 100%.

Her dress is draped from her waist down pooling shily around her feet, her neckline all but shy as the V-neck is deep showing of her collarbones and extra skin, the odd scar littered here and there ruining her darker completion, pale not being in her vocabulary. Her fingers are adorned with golden rings, same goes for her ears where golden earrings dangle in the bright lighting of the chandeliers. More gold has ben simply strewn over the mess of her hair, the style which is supposed to be elegant has had my head shaking even before.

The cuff on her bicep even though displays her prominent muscular and athletic figure highlighting her arms is unnecessary, as is the leaf belt around her waist that makes her hips look wider. I’m sure there’s plenty of men lusting after her plump figure alone. I bet her flesh is soft, and easy to hold onto, the covered-up skin probably littered with more scars that seem to litter her every inch of her body. Unlike most people she shamelessly displays them.

What irks me, and leaves me in complete puzzlement is the sword that’s strapped to her hip. I’ve been told she’s a swordswoman, and that she has had the training of it as I’ve stumbled upon her and Yoongi hyung sparing one day randomly in the gym. The space is big and can have a boxing ring in it if we wish to, other activities such as practicing martial arts, and archery enabled by its spaciousness.

The already what looks like an exaggerated grin grows wider her animated looking speech bothersome. Her right hand is the one to move around fingers twitching, constantly touching the handle of her sword, awkwardly almost while her left hand is preoccupied with holding a glass that contains alcohol in it the content unknown to me. She’s the only one with a drink in hand making her even more obvious that she doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong with us.

And yet the prince seems to eat her right up with his eyes alone. He’s completely entranced by her. I don’t understand one bit as to why - she’s full of imperfections like I’ve said, the fact that she’s a foreigner isn’t the issue, but the word she chooses to say are at times very disrespectful as she doesn’t know better clearly her Korean obviously lacking while her mannerism are those of a child.

Still irked I tilt my head tongue darting over my teeth and cheek as I focus my gaze onto the man, the sound of my inner voice fading back, as the haze behind my eyes and fogginess that surround me starts to lift up. It would be way easier to close my eyes, but that would make it obvious that I’m trying to do something that I shouldn’t be doing.

As I blink a few times, I find myself in the prince’s shoes which are uncomfortable but he’s keeping that at the back of his mind. He notes how she’s so small and fragile looking compared to him, easily to take, steal away if it were the older times. Okay old man.

She’s just like a child! So excited and clumsy, its adorable. That sword on her hips must be a mere toy. Something to add sparkle and value to her in a sense. But the display of it does raise questions; Why did Min Yoongi let her wear that? And the style of it, very much so foreign to our own Geom’s and sword styles in Korea.

He probably dressed her up himself, given that she’s absolutely drenched in his bitter scent. Ugh mint. I’ve grown to absolutely hate it as it’s a reminder of him whenever the scent hits my nose. If it weren’t for him, I’d be king, and all these fools and idiots would have already been kissing my feet.

So why is he displaying her off like this? He has staked his claim, but hasn’t marked her. It must be a bribery? No Min wouldn’t stop so low he’s too prideful for that.

Look at her go, rising chuckles from my chest with almost ease which is sort of unusual how her humour seems to be in tune with my own. Even though she’s more than meets the eye, she’d be fun to play around with. Tie her down, or simply hold her as she’s useless against my strength...then use all her holes us, and drain her…fuck what would I give for a taste of her blood. Even though the mint covers her up, her own sweetness has started to seep through. She smells like the freshest batch of strawberries, mint ruining it into acidness. I want to ruin her…

A backhanded hit over the back of my head, brings me accidentally to another place in the Prince’s mind, seeing the image of the human girl being tied up inhumanely, and him fucking her. The scene has my stomach churning and if I was still human, I’d be throwing up right here and now. If my blood was ice cold before it quickly warms up, as that’s no way to threat any woman or man for the matter human or no. As I blink rapidly coming back to my own stiff body, I offer a glare towards the Prince one last time before turning to a fuming Seokjin hyung that’s glaring at me hand still holding onto the back of my neck, with an underlaying treat resting heavily between us.

‘’Are you fucking crazy?!’’ he hisses pupils starting to glow more prominently red as his anger rises. Only now I notice Yoongi hyung on my left, that’s neutrally staring at me clearly disappointed but there’s this sort of glimmer in his eye that I can’t exactly read ‘’Out of all the things we’ve told you not to do and you go straight ahead and spit in our faces?!?’’ his anger is basically radiating in waves from him, as he leans in closer to me to my neck, hand tightening forcing me to hold my head still.

Taehyung was quick to move and stand in line of sight trying to block out anyone from seeing what’s going on where we are near the balcony that has remained unusually unoccupied this evening.

‘’It was me.’’ Yoongi replies neutrally. It’s that sort of neutral that’s plainly terrifying as you cannot know what direction his emotions are swinging at. Even though he is my creator, my saviour and the one I’m closest to in our coven, he is after all a very old creature that with only a stare can make anyone cry and flee ‘’My order.’’ He adds eyes finding my own, voice easily filling my mind.

Is there anything you’d like to share with me? his face remains the same, whilst Seokjin lets go off me and steps away, angrily mumbling under his breath. With a glance towards Yoongi and a barely there nod Taehyung is scurrying away after Jin, meanwhile Hoseok hyung is quick to join us out of thin air it seems, settling himself on Yoongi’s right keeping an eye out.

Readjusting my clothes and posture I offer a glance towards the Prince and Y/N that’s down’s her glass and makes a goofy expression looking like she’s having the time of her life. Ignorant fool.

He wants to steal her. Literally. turning to the platinum blonde vampire he sighs heavily through his nose looking forward with his eyes narrowed.

What else?’

My lips tighten into thin lines the blonde woman from before coming into my line of sight. Shit. Cursing further I turn to the pair in the middle of the room again, watching as the prince daringly leans closer, the girl to my surprise dodging his touches, his hand now and then reaching out seemingly casual Her sword. I admit trying hard to push down the image of the two of them, and the way he wants to torture her for his own pleasure He hates your scent. But hers is starting to come out more which has him all the more curious and wanting.

Frowning as disgust raises again, I keep my eyes on the elder on my right, not missing the way his lips tug downwards. He looks displeased.

‘’Hoseok-ah.’’ With a single word and a look, Hoseok rushes away, disappearing as if he wasn’t even here in the first place. As I turn forward to look across the room ready to observe thoughts of certain vampires the blonde catches my eyes again. She’s standing much closer now but has been roped into another group of females that are clearly gossiping way to loud for their own good. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at me as of saying ‘Help.’.

‘’Your punishment will be decided on tomorrow.’’ Yoongi speaks monotone getting my attention. I quickly lower my head down in understanding, hands pulling behind my back as I take a step behind him ‘’Even though you’ve earned a pass, your actions have earned Jin hyungs anger.’’ He spares me a glance but I don’t lift my head and gaze from my shoes, the leather polished so that it reflects the closes chandelier to us in them ‘’Taehyung-ah will take care of your position while you join Namjoon and Jimin.’’

Instantly I grind my teeth together, wanting to retort back a denial but know better than to go against him especially where anyone can hear and see us in a crowd like this.

‘’So much for waiting for tomorrow.’’ I grumble squaring my shoulders, picking up on soft patting of feet the person I want to burn in hell approaching us. Hyung doesn’t reply, just keeps looking ahead instead even though I know I rubbed him the wrong way with my comment. But he also knows how I detest her. It really is a cruel punishment as he’s putting her safety onto my shoulders. I hate this so much, ugh why me?!

I was supposed to be Yoongi’s hyung backup. I was supposed to start learning to be his left-hand man, as Hoseok is always there when he needs him. But no, she had to fuck it all up didn’t see? Just by coming here she fucked up years of progress I’ve made. Years of hard work to be the best, in all categories that hyung needs me to excel at.

‘’Hello gentlemen.’’ She cheers gleefully completely unaware of what’s happening. Looking up she spares a wide grin and proceeds to drink more of her newly refiled glass, a waiter following her around since the start.

‘’Aren’t you being a bit careless with the amount of alcohol intake?’’ Yoongi asks sounding soft and affectionate, as she smacks her lips which are coloured into a nice pinker shade, that complement the soft pastel tones of her makeup. So annoyingly human.

‘’Me careless never.’’ She snorts giggling ‘’I’d offer a toast but given your current lack of beverage, I’ll keep on trooping on for the both of us.’’

‘’How courageous of you.’’

Another puzzling matter is the amount of alcohol intake. I know humans drink, but isn’t this too much? It’s getting to a lethal point for her livers at this point ‘’Continuing on my legacy firmly.’’

My frown deepens as Yoongi chuckles half amused ‘’Did you enjoy your chat with your newest admirer?’’

At this I spare him a glance. His expression hardens but he isn’t giving anything off his expression and posture relaxed and well masking his real emotions while she on the other hand muses and obviously turns back toward the Prince, that’s already staring towards us, offering a smirk. She hums and turns back crossing her right arm over her front while she bends her left holding the glass up near her face the posture making her look ridiculous as she fake toasts, the Prince mimicking the gesture right back.

‘’Very much so, he’s quite charming.’’ She confirms her eyebrows jumping expression seemingly too happy for her to actually be normal. How can she be so cheerful and easy going? Again, with the animal references but she’s a lamb set right now in a den of lions, ready to be devoured. She’s acting so oblivious, she is oblivious idiotically so, her attitude and the way she’s acting want me to tear out my hair.

‘’Did he ask you about your heritage?’’ at this question I furrow my brows as I look at hyung in confusion. Why is he asking her that? For sure he has paid attention to every word they’ve exchanged like everyone else so why the unnecessarily of talking about this out loud??

‘’Yes.’’ She taps the handle of her sword visibly ‘’But he didn’t get the memo quite yet. He did compare me to a princess nonetheless. I should add that to my resume.’’ Her voice that’s this dreamy aspect to it. Another sip of the bubbly liquid she tilts her head to the side smirking at hyung. The next word she speaks I cannot even phantom to pronounce or repeat - it sounds almost like she is making a sound, which for a moment I assume she just burped or something, but Yoongi hyung nods curtly. Did she just speak in another language?

‘’Oh!’’ she states in wonder turning around as music starts to play louder now the hired coven that acts as a smaller performing orchestra coming to life with a lively tune. Couples are quick to line up in the middle of the room, ready to dance ‘’How wonderful.’’ she mumbles to herself continuing to sip on her drink. With her back to me, I’m drawn by the expanse of her back the dip of her dress reaching just where her kidneys are. Harsher looking scars litter her skin, which are confusing by all means. They are long and overlapping. That must have taken a long time to heal. It almost makes me flinch.

Yoongi’s silence gets my attention and a desperate wish to peek into his mind, to see what storm is brewing there.

‘’Remember that one time, when you asked me to dance on your own free will??’’ the girl wonders sounding reminiscent while the vampire moves to stand in front of her. I feel as if I’m intruding the moment, so given my new position I walk over to the side, to a giant column that’s keeping the heavy roof intact above us. I’m close enough to them to intercept anyone, and far enough to stop any danger. But instead of focusing on my surroundings I listening in onto the two.

‘’…you’re not getting that. Even if you drag me.’’ hyung finishes amused, standing closer to her. Way too close that’s necessarily, the proximity bothering me. She’s going to give him a bad rep and he’s just letting her. I am surprised I have to admit, about the lightness of their conversation having fully expected them to start talking between one another in the foreign tongue that nobody knows about, which they usually converse in.

‘’Aigo Yoongi-yaah! Stubborn as ever!’’ I close my eyes for a moment just breathing in an out, my mood sour-ing all the more. Even though I’ve told her myself many times, that when addressing your elders, you need to call them appropriately she still goes against it acting dumb and continues to call hyung in a belittling way.

I don’t understand why he doesn’t correct her! Why is he letting her act like that? If it were any of us, we’d be dismembered, missing a limb for a few years. (Not us necessary I’ve seen him cause pain to lesser vampires that were causing too much chaos in the human world)

‘’It’s just one dance.’’ She tries hand sneaking around his waist the contrast between her brighter colour and his darker blue shaded Gonryongpo is a huge contrast furthering on her difference from us.

‘’It’s been centuries since I’ve danced this waltz. Can’t even remember certain steps.’’ he entertains her further. Ever since she came, I’ve seen him smile more times than I have ever before I feel like. Whenever she’s around him, there’s always a somewhat smile on his face.

‘’I’ll lead, it’s not like I’d be the first time.’’ she whispers as they both chuckles.

‘’Running an imaginary headache there Jeongguk-ah?’’ I glance up towards Namjoon hyung who smiles at me clearly loving my suffering.

‘’You could say that.’’ Looking at the girl, she’s basically nuzzling into Yoongi’s side not minding the many curious looks others are giving her in passing. Or plainly staring at the pair. I try to relax my features understanding Namjoon’s subtle words, in correcting myself my concentration having gotten the better of me.

‘’It can’t be that bad.’’ He pats me over the back reassuringly, eyes darting towards our hyung and the girl that finishes her drink once more.

‘’How can she drink so much?’’ I find myself asking silently not wanting her to hear me ‘’She’s practically killing herself as we speak.’’ Looking up at Namjoon his eyebrows are furrowed as he silently nods. He’s the one that’s most fascinated with humans out of all of us, and has studied human medicine for a lifetime a decade ago. So, he must know better than me, that her eating and drinking habits are unhealthy ‘’Ugh.’’ I groan as she slips and starts conversing in another language, Yoongi seemingly easy to follow along a concentrated expression drawing itself on his face.

‘’Pretentious.’’ I grumble, while Namjoon looks absolutely fascinated ‘’Don’t.’’ I warn as he looks between them and me, gaze fleeting for a moment as he smiles.

‘’This must be…’’ he counts on his fingers but ends up pointing a 5 in his mind ‘’…language that she seems to be fluent in. That’s utterly fascinating.’’ I can see how the wheels are spinning in his mind, picking up on She must be a linguist, that’s why Yoongi called her for this gathering.

His thoughts sort of do make sense. My gut feeling tells me otherwise, doubt quick in questioning Namjoon’s logic for I think the first time in my life. Her being human doesn’t make any sense, for her to still be here.

‘’I’m sure you’d be a better choice for that.’’ I point out ‘’Or me for the matter.’’

He immediately tsks crossing his arms as he stands more on my side, looking at me incredulously ‘’Jeon Jeongguk are you jealous?’’ he asks my gaze getting captured by the blonde woman again, having reached only a few steps away, waving at me a moment later getting roped in chatting with a girl similar to her. Both of them glance towards me and end up giggling.

‘’Never of her.’’ my reply is instant as I turn to glare at hyung in anger, his demander sort of knowing and confident.

‘’Hm sure. Whatever you say maknae.’’ He teases but straightens up once Yoongi approaches us, glancing after Y/N that has sat on the couch behind us. She frowns once she’s down, but accepts another refill the waiter dutifully doing his job.

‘’The meeting is going to start soon.’’ Hyung starts which has us both straightening up, and at attention ‘’I want you with me, I still need to go greet the Jeju coven and given that they’ve taken a liking to you…’’ he trails off smirking both of them exchanging looks. I expect the seriousness that settles over hyungs features once he turns to me, his dark red eyes fixating on me the feeling of him reading into my soul present for a brief moment ‘’Keep an eye on her. And be nice.’’ the last part is a warning because he doesn’t even spare me another glance. He’s moving away with Namjoon hyung that’s getting his head in the game mind elsewhere. I’m sure he’ll come and talk to me later in the morning after all this ordeal is done. I can’t really chase the feeling away of being unwanted for a moment.

‘’Many thanks, truly but I will have to continue with politely declining your requests.’’ Her voice is easy to pick up on as I’m left almost alone with my brothers mingling everywhere around the room and nowhere in my sight.

Taking in a deep breath I turn around spotting at least 3 men offering their hands over to the human, that has a rosiness to her cheeks at their advances.

‘’Just one quick dance, m’lady.’’ One tries persistently making me scowl and approach them. They do look at me, one straightening up immediately while the two others scoff.

‘’The lady already politely declined you already. Don’t turn yourselves into gossip for others by getting rejected thrice more, gentlemen.’’ I point out standing on her left, making sure I’m acting as a shield. The men eye me one insinuating that he’s going to do something more in his mind. But he does take a step back nodding, the two following as they offer their greetings and start to walk away. As I watch them give me the stink eye, I don’t miss the blonde that keeps appearing in my eyesight. Again, she has that innocent expression on, but this time she tilts her head to the side a clear invitation to move elsewhere more private.

‘’Thank you for that.’’ Her more croaky voice pips up. I spare her a glance, as she slumps against the couch again, her sword laid improperly over the couch and her lap ‘’Yoongi-ah told me to be nice so…’’ she trails off quietly for the first time this evening looking exasperated. But only for a moment as her lips quirk up, as a pair passes us bowing down offering a greeting going along and away.

‘’Don’t mention it.’’ I mumble slipping my hands into my trousers again the itch on following the blonde kind of present, but I’ve fucked up enough this evening to keep still and do as I was told.

‘’So, are you having any fun?’’ again she addresses me, and I don’t really see the point in this small talk. Because it’s coming from her mainly. It sounds unfair and mean but I’m getting really tired of her.

‘’Sure.’’ I find myself replying stoically as I look around, returning a smile or nod here and there, spotting some of my friends that are strewn around in the crowd.

‘’You know…’’ she starts and pauses. For a moment I get an image that she’s choking silently which has me turning sideways to look at her. But she’s just sitting there a bit un-lady like her legs spread instead of folded which she does after my brief thought ‘’…if you want to go chase after the blonde you can. I’ll be fine on my own.’’ At this I raise an eyebrow in question startled that she actually noticed that ‘’She seemed nice. Even asked about you.’’ At this new information my eyes raise to the crowd, spotting her wine-red dress near the entrance of the balcony on my sharp right.

‘’You’ve talked to her?’’ I frown turning back to the human, her lipstick that has gotten smudged all the more irks me immediately. Must have rubbed of the glass too much. She should stop drinking.

‘’Uh huh.’’ she replies licking over her lips, my eyes darting onto her own finding her staring straight at me. They look so…normal. Her eyes. So plain so, boring. It’s the first time that I’m actually standing so close to her, and yes, I’ve once been a human myself this shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does – it intrigues me more – but her eyes seem beautifully normal. ‘’She approached me initially having figured I’m with you only after Hoseok addressed me casually.’’ To her boring explanation I offer her a curt nod and turn to the crowd while she takes another sip of her drink ‘’So you can go to her, I’m sure Jiminie or someone else will be here to replace you instantly. Yoongi-ah worries too much, he always has a plan B, C, D, E and so on in mind.’’

I faintly smile at the statement for the first time agreeing with her. Hyung is very organized and ready for anything, partially thanks to Namjoon, but I bet his experience shaped him into who he is today. As for her I’m not so sure. She’s acting way to reckless right now even more than she does when it’s just us. She almost broke one of Bernini statues that Yoongi hyung is very proud of, that’s located in his study. How she did that exactly as it weights tons don’t ask me, the screaming match they’ve gotten into has left us all wondering in confusion as to how and why.

Again, breaking limbs isn’t uncommon to teach younglings lessons, but his way of dealing with her was to after the screaming match as over - rolled his eyes at her and pushed her out taking her to get ice cream. ICE CREAM!!! A child is what she is!!! Even if her mortal age is above twenties, she acts as if she’s 9. Even children of 5 are more respectful than she is.

‘’Are you trying to get rid of me?’’ I find myself asking as she shifts behind me, nails tapping over the metal. I can hear how her heart beat is slightly rushed thanks to the alcohol, her breathing remaining steady.

‘’Hm, not at all.’’ she replies quietly. I can feel her eyes on me, and I refuse to look back at her keeping my eyesight ahead. The Prince comes in sight as he finishes the dance with one of the many mistresses her has, or concubine I’m not sure what title to use with anyone anymore ‘’You’re the realest one tonight to be honest.’’ I can hear her whisper to herself clearly taking another sip after. Glancing back, she picks herself up not faltering as I’d assume, she would. She steps forward standing next to me expression serious and for a moment calculating as she scans the room. Thanks to the high heels she has on, she actually stands taller next to me. Even without them she stands tall, at a sort of an average length – it isn’t enough to tease her for her height.

The heels add an edge to her ‘’Ugh I’m too sober for this.’’ She complains silently at the Prince that starts approaching us. Luckily enough he gets distracted by another lady that literally steps in front of him. Glancing at the human girl her smile falters, eyes meeting my own ‘’If it were up to me right now I’d be upstairs, settled in that gods-sent fluffy bed and would have a controller in my hand, just annihilating one person after another either in Overwatch or I don’t know. Maybe replay Last of us.’’ At this revelation I look her up and down whilst she greets the waiter with a grin who hands her a new glass instead.

So, she plays games huh. Wouldn’t peg her to be the type but what do I care. I’m sure I’d beat her with ease, she has nothing on me.

‘’And what would you do, if I was there right next to you?’’ comes a flirty remark from an orange haired Jimin hyung that offers Y/N a golden tube of lipstick that probably matches the one on her lips. Only now I notice upon taking a closer look how her lips despite the fade-ness in the middle, how plump they actually look. Bite-able.

‘’That depends.’’ Y/N remarks back accepting the lipstick and small mirror handing him her glass, which he takes a sniff of ‘’Where would you exactly be? Next to me? Behind me?’’

I roll my eyes at her poor attempt of flirtation scrunching my nose up ‘’Why under you of course.’’ Ghhhhhhh.

She simply muses for a moment in silence, probably giving him a flirtatious smirk or something, which is a grimace I bet. With the corner of my eye I half watch as she opens up the lipstick ‘’Hm interesting proposition. Unrealistic but courageous in attempt. You think you could handle me?’’

I want to facepalm so hard it’s not even funny. Jimin the bastard he is giggles like a little girl almost, watching her intently, whilst I spot the blonde again talking with another guy, that’s clearly showing interest into her. Fuck.

‘’Oh, little mortal there’s not that much to handle from what I can see. I think I’ll take my chances without a second thought.’’ He shamelessly ogles her.

‘’Are you willing to bet on that then, Jiminie? Stick to your words?’’ she dares back. I spare him a glance surprised at seeing him faltering. Her head is angled in a way where I can’t see her expression, but I can see that she isn’t necessarily smiling. Huh.

He visibly gulps ‘’You’re trying to raise the stakes, aren’t you?’’ he muses confidence having faltered, so he settles for a cute approach smiling exaggeratively for a moment ‘’All or nothing, huh darling?’’ he’s putting out all his cards, posses, smiles, and the looks he gives her. And yet I know for sure somehow that she has him hocked around her finger. All done with a single look nonetheless. Not a lot of creatures let alone humans can get to him and here she just did. He is a touch but to crack so to speak.

‘’All or nothing.’’ she repeats recapping the lipstick and is quick to hand both items back to the pink haired man, accepting her drink back ‘’From what I just saw I’ll choose the latter, kitten.’’ The remark has me rising an eyebrow power balance shifting. Knowing very well that Jimin is a switch and that it sometimes takes him only a word or a motion to render him putty this is highly amusing and interesting indeed. And I think judging by the silence, she broke him sort of. Glancing towards him yeah if he was human, he’d be blushing all over, the puppy eyes telling me everything I need to know.

‘’Let’s get this show on the road boys.’’ she comments off handed. I miss completely as people start to gather around the middle and end up clapping, the orchestra being thanked for the wonderful tunes, a speech from the Prince ensuing. All the while I stare as Y/N down’s her drink, and gulps it like its water. Getting a whiff, I’m seriously questioning her will for life. That’s the scent of strong clean, vodka with a hint of peach in it.

She smacks her lips again and turns to me ‘’Do I look okay?’’ she asks the question completely flabbergasting me. But I do automatically take her in, head to toe. Her dress is still in place not even wrinkled. And this close up, I can see more scars which don’t deter me away anymore. The gold on her fingers, the rings add elegance to the look more completing it, and the earrings are a cheery on top not glinting much under the lighting up close. Her hairstyle the messiness I understand it, and same goes for the gentle touch on her makeup.

Looking at her lips they look perfectly drawn and arched. I dumbly nod instead, taking a glance at her sword. The blade being a kopis, has the handle curved the detailing on the grip is shaped as a pouncing lion the underside of the guard has a winged horse on each side the wings sort of creating the handle . This is the heritage they’ve talked about as the blade is traditionally Greek. She’s turning away faster than I can assess her weapon further more. I watch as she puts on a smile, letting out a heavy breath and hands of her glass to the waiter that’s ready to refill her glass.

She offers him a silent thank you, and then steps forward. It takes me a nudge from Jimin to register that I should follow after her. So, keeping up a distance but remain relatively close I mingle into the crowd keeping her at the corner of my eye at all times noticing the way the draping of her dress elegantly seems to float behind her.

I join in the clapping as we come to a stop reaching the middle of the room. I’m surprised to see Yoongi her and remain standing in the back watching as the human steps right over to his side, bowing respectfully to the elder coming from Jeju that’s the closest one next to her.

The murmurs that raise, confirm my hunch – nobody is protesting her position in their lines but they are all questioning it. Out of the gathered mass my friend Yugyeom makes and appearance across us trying lowkey to keep a surveillance of the room, but he ends up looking straight at me. Crossing my arms, I shake my head amused at his fresh blood so to speak. I know he has been put in charge of protecting, their coven’s linguist Jackson. He simply smirks in return and disappears into the crowd. The other linguist or advisors’ steps next to their elders same as Y/N did while the Prince continues on telling a war story, probably meant to inspire everyone and instead I bet it has everyone wanting to stab him or someone else to end his miserable tale.

‘’…for the future!’’ he ends his speech soon after but not soon enough. The claps arise once more, while the elders start moving towards the end of the room, where a door will lead them into another room which happens to be our grand library, expanding up into the second floor as well.

One by one they make their way inside, the Prince getting distracted by his own advisor standing near the back. But I think for the most part everyone’s attention is situated on the only being that’s not of our kin in the room. The human accepts Yoongi’s offered arm, wrapping her own around his as they follow everyone else ignoring the rumours and different expressions offered towards them.

If I had a heart, I think it would be beating out of my chest by now. My body doesn’t necessarily lack all human traits but the stillness keeps emotions hidden luckily more times than not – I feel the heaviness settle in my stomach like a boulder invading my senses. For some reason I get a bad, bad feeling about this. My anger returns as this just crosses all the lines doesn’t it. And by some snarls once the two of them pass the doors lets me know I’m not feeling this alone.

My friend’s presence next to me, stops me from reacting too strongly like some vampires do hisses and protests rising. We both watch in silence and with frowns as the party mood turns tense. Some of the more mature meaning older vampires start to protest loudly, some going towards the doors where Taehyung has settled himself, along with mainly Prince’s extra guards. There’s an official speaker that’s been left outside trying to calm and charm the defiant bunch. Hoseok and Jimin hyung aren’t far away trying to get the party started once more doing a way better job than the assigned guy. Jin and Namjoon entered the meeting as well, leaving the responsibility onto us; mine being mainly security and basically manhandling if someone turns out to act too unruly.

‘’Interesting developments.’’ Yugyeom comments quietly. Glancing over at him, the turtleneck he has on wants me to make fun of him, but this situation prevents me from doing so. Dressed all in black and with freshly dyed black hair, he looks aged somewhat. The fluorescent yellow hair he had not even a month ago made him look younger.

‘’Uh huh.’’ I simply hum tearing my eyes away from the doors and crowd ‘’I’m surprised you’re still here.’’

Sparing him a glance my friend doesn’t seem phased at my question, just snorting in response at first keeping an eye out as I do too ‘’Gotta earn my place in due time.’’ I tilt my head to the side briefly rising my head up as I smirk knowing those words all too well myself ‘’So what’s this whole infuriation thing going on with the flesh bag?’’ he asks, motioning for me to start walking. The nickname he uses for the human strikes a weird chord deep withing me. I keep silent at first, as we make our way towards the other side of the room, and the balcony that’s closest to the library. No guards are settled here, which makes it seem as a lack of good strategy having been put in place. Anyone can jump through the windows to get the elders attention – this is getting strange and not in a good way.

The terrace is illuminated by the outdoor lights, as well as the half of the moon that’s glowing above us. The chilliness of the air is welcomed, even though I literally can’t differentiate temperatures as much as I did when I was a human in a sense of them bothering me.

‘’Rumours are already spreading.’’ The vampire next to me says keeping his tone down, as he leans against the railing, offering me a cocky smirk. I frown at him, turning my back to the gardens while I glance towards the library. The wall has been built in a way that you can barely see inside. And right now, the curtains have been drawn close. So, I glance inside at the calmed down vampires, spotting newcomers. It’s easy to detect their fastened heart beats, excitement rising. The main course of the night has arrived.

‘’Oh, do tell.’’ I grunt again spotting the blonde that seems to be haunting me this whole evening. She’s dancing with a human male, that’s almost literally slobbering over her.

‘’Where to start.’’ Yugyeom chuckles clearly amused ‘’Some say, she’s just a new pet Yoongi hyung found. Some have the impression of her being his concubine seeing her skin so battered. Others speculate that the scars are from fighting, as in some being former fighting and even sword wounds. The huge scaring on her back someone said is from whipping which isn’t it kinky ey?’’ he wiggles his eyebrows snapping his fingers, acting ridiculous.

My brows furrow at new gossip, and his words and implications. Fighting wounds? Whips. I know how whips feel, how whipping…how…

With some difficulty I swallow the lump in my throat. I can’t find myself imagining her being whipped, it just doesn’t make sense. She’s to chirp and loud and, full of life to have been put through something traumatic such as whipping. The rock in my gut just seems to have been set on fire, as nerves settle more prominently.

‘’Hah yeah.’’ I fake a smile which he does buy into it and continues on.

‘’Some are into the aspect of fucking her.’’ my lips go into a thin line as he says that cheerfully ‘’I think as a fetish more or less or something I’m not sure.’’ He pauses for a moment ‘’Do you think I can have a go at her too?? If hyung is willing to share her that is. Price and all included.’’ legitimately he looks eager and suddenly hungry pupils dilating slightly.

I simply glare at him the growl grumbling in my throat unexpected and has me freezing. But he gets the hint and raises his hands up a bright grin settling over his features ‘’No harm done bro! Understood loud and clear.’’ He even winks at me raising up a finger gun acting as bad as she does ‘’Man why do all exciting things happen to you and none to me?! It’s pretty boring sometimes. You should visit sometimes.’’ He’s quick to switch the conversation tension that has risen between us deflating halfway. But it’s still present.

I love Yugyeom I really do; we grew up together when we were humans so he’s more like a real brother to me. But right now, I’m finding myself disliking him, and the way he was led to think about Y/N. I’m the first person wishing for her to just leave us alone, but I would not want her to fall into the hands of these fuckers here. Everyone that attends these sorts of gatherings hold themselves way to fucking high up, as if they are royalty. In reality we all, came from dirt – and the ones that have not are pretentious pricks that have been handed things on golden platters unfortunately.  There’s no in between in our society.

Screams raise up from the inside, fright loud and clear in the air as the invited humans try to run away. Its soon after that moans replace the terror the flip quicker than the usual. Our guests were hungrier than they led on.

‘’When all of this excitement goes down I will.’’ I promise smiling feeling my shoulders relax as the scent of blood reaches my nose. It has my friend straightening up as well shifting from one foot to another ‘’We’ve got a bet to settle, don’t we?’’

He wiggles his eyebrows chuckling, pushing himself away from the railing ‘’Wanna end it now?’’ he challenges. The bet is ridiculous and downright douche-y. I won’t go into details right now, as the nerves of the mere thought of trying at it, does the opposite of exciting me.

I shake my head at him waving my hand in dismissiveness ‘’Next time. I’ve had my fill earlier today.’’ I lie smoothly. He must be really hungry because he nods and is backing away instead of trying to wrestle me inside.

‘’Your loss bunny boy.’’ I roll my eyes as he reaches the doors ‘’More for me!’’ and with that he’s out of sight easily catching a fleeting girl twirling her around. Not wanting to see what follows, I spare a glance at a man that has another one pressed against a column, draining him hands roaming all over the human’s body who looks like he’s in pure bliss.

Another pair has settled on the ground shamelessly grinding against one another. With a bitter taste in my mouth I turn my back to all of them, and lean onto the stone railing, looking across the garden. Even though there’s so much going on behind me, I do pick up on pitter-pattering of creatures ahead of us. There’s a forest not far away from our estate, the back gardens connected to it. So many creatures do have access and roam freely around it by daylight mainly, sensing us as we sense them.

The smell of blood, and heaviness of sex whisks past me, the mixed smells raising the all too familiar itch to start scratching at my throat insistently so. Even with years of self-discipline and learning control the hard way, by being chained up most times than not it’s hard to ignore my instincts. I do want to just run in, and sink my teeth into some girl, or guy to drink them dry. This is the only time where we can do it, as usually our food comes from donors these days.

What I don’t understand is why for the first time something is holding me back. The blood doesn’t smell right, its either to sweetened or bland. Same as the noises and screams; nothing in particular arouses me, not even my own thoughts of the blonde. Her red wine dress, tugged up legs spread wide open beneath me, as I take her right where I’m standing here it’s just…I bet she’d moan nicely and beg to be fuck hard to the point before breaking. Her eyes would glow nicely wouldn’t they…

But the glow feels wrong. Her flawless skin would match my own under my palms, it wouldn’t be heated up, or fleshy to grope. Same as her melodic tone, it wouldn’t be raspy like I want it to be. Her scent is probably all wrong too, I bet she smells nothing like strawb…

‘’There you are.’’ as if I’ve called her or have pulled her straight out of my mind she’s right there at the doors. Turning around I raise an eyebrow upon seeing her, dragging another human girl that’s panting and has a leash around her neck. She visibly shivers at the change of temperature but the blonde pays her no mind ‘’You’re a hard man to catch.’’

Smirking I straighten up half turning around watching as she licks a bold stripe up the human girl’s neck making a show of it ‘’Hard to believe that. I wasn’t hiding or running away from you.’’

She muses pursing her lips, as she stands on the humans left side groping her whilst her eyes are hungrily taking me in ‘’Duty before pleasure I presume.’’

‘’Afraid so.’’ I nod in return, as the blonde whispers something in the girl’s ears. She moans hungrily eyeing the blonde that pushes her against the wall and shushes her down promising to do filthy things to her. It doesn’t take much for the human to comply, her hands flying under the skirt of her dress eyes shutting closed. My attention remains on the blonde instead as she turns around and approaches me still musing.

‘’Politics are such a bore.’’ She states standing next to me, looking across the garden ‘’Like life sometimes.’’ Looking at her she looks up at me curiously ‘’But I bet you can’t say the same.’’

‘’Hmm define the word boring.’’ I tease back her lips quirking into a smirk.

‘’Ah you know the usual. Feed, seduce, feed more and so on so on.’’ she replies stepping closer to me ‘’Now you’re turn.’’ Her hands are quick to rank up my suit jacket, nails a contrast that doesn’t go together with my outfit.

‘’Not much difference. Feed, train, feed more and train a bit more.’’ I almost neutrally reply, holding in my breath as he hands reach just beneath my collarbones abandoning my suit jacket in favour of testing out how firm my chest is.

‘’Hard to believe there’s nothing more, exciting to fill up your schedule.’’ Her eyes meet my own. And same as in my day dream, they glint briefly brightly red. She is laying all her cards on the table. And I’ve waited all night for this to happen. Granted I wanted to chase her down, like a gentleman but she’s here either way in my grasp.

Straightening up, I place my hands over her hips keeping silent for a moment further as I slide them shamelessly to grip her ass, the action having her breathing hitch. It doesn’t feel all that nice. Leaning down, I hover inches away from her thin lips shaded into a matching colour to her dress.

‘’There’s a possibility I like keeping that part of it to myself.’’ at this she arches an eyebrow showing of her sharp teeth as she smiles. As I intake a breath her scent fills my senses completely. She smells like roses, and butterscotch the combination wanting to be sweet and yet – I don’t find it nice.

It lacks that real tender sweetness, and fruitiness.

‘’Do you reveal it to only a handful of people then perhaps?’’ she breathes out eyes glowing brightly red, as I tug her left thigh upwards pressing her to myself shifting so that she can’t exactly feel me against her. I’m not hard at all. Not even semi-hard. Okay maybe a tiny bit but it’s worrisome that I’m not feeling any attraction to her anymore.

I take a look at her up and close trying to get my body to react, or convince myself to at least think that’s she’s attractive. Her blonde hair seems fake up close, features way too symmetrical and off putting for whatever reason. Her makeup is heavily put on, lines not visible. Glancing down at her body and how she’s pressed against me…the hold I have on her…it’s lacking. She’s very plain. The perfection I praised not long ago, is now just dull and uninteresting.

‘’We can share.’’ She adds probably detecting my hesitance ‘’Kitten won’t mind it once bit.’’ the nickname she uses throws me off further. Even though I do look at the human girl that’s shamelessly uncovered her lower part and is rubbing herself for us to see, moans filling the night air – it’s not convincing enough. I’d rather take the human girl for myself instead of sharing.

Grunting I let go of the blonde’s leg realizing in the back of my mind that I don’t even know her name. She looks at me with furrowed brows, as I take half a step away distancing myself.

‘’Found you!’’ a voice sings cheerfully from the doors. Both of us look towards the orange haired male, that grins widely, his mouth smeared in red ‘’Oh what do we have here.’’ He’s quick to skip over to the human, taking her in ‘’Yah Jeongguk-ah you are so selfish.’’ He pouts, running his hands over the trembling girl’s side.

‘’Jimin-ssi when I told you to beat it, I meant it. With all due respect.’’ Blondie pips up crossing her arms and looks annoyed while my hyung remains playfully touching the human girl, that’s panting louder.

‘’C c c Dahyun-ah. That’s so mean coming from such a sweet girl like yourself.’’ He pouts crowding behind the girls back. He hocks his chin over her shoulder as he gives us puppy eyes. I smirk at his antics thanking him quickly in my mind, that he was so quick to answer my call not even 2 minutes ago. Given by the silence of the blonde – or apparently Dahyun he has her hocked.

‘’Why don’t you teach her some manners hyung?’’ I propose crossing my arms as I lean back against the railing. She turns to look at me stunned mouth opening to say something, but Jimin in a bat of an eye is right there crowding into her space blocking her view away from me.

‘’I really should, shouldn’t I?’’ he growls lowly hand reaching under her chin to keep her focus on him ‘’You think you can handle it baby doll?’’

I frown instantaneous turning away eyes trailing off to the library, mind switching to the image of Y/N. Those are almost the same words that she used to tease him. Turning back to the two, they have ended making out – plain and simple. But once he opens his eyes and grins, she continues licking at him like an animal trying to get every trace of blood from his chin and cheek.

Jimin doesn’t say anything just sends me a wink and a I owe you one Jeonggukkie dragging both Dahyun and the human girl back inside in mere moments. He even closes the balcony door. A gentleman indeed.

My shoulders just sag, as I sit myself on the railing climbing over it, letting my legs hang over the edge as I stare at the moon at first watching as it lowers down slowly, orbiting around us.

What a stupid and weird night. I run my hands over my face trying to gather my thoughts that are in disarray. So much has happened, and still is happening. There are so many mysteries too, more than I thought there would be resolving one simple human. She should have stayed hidden upstairs away from everyone’s greedy gazes and thoughts, far away from the centre of anyone else’s attention. Rephrase that she should be here in the first place.

Saying she’s hyungs long term friend is stupid. I’ve known hyung over 190 years given that he was the one who saved and turned me. I’ve never seen her before; he never even mentioned her name or anything.

Even if he does have meetings in the city, there’s no way they could have hung out. Either of us would smell her on him, even if he did change clothes before coming home. Which we know he’s too lazy to go through that much trouble. He’s not hiding her away right now, meaning he didn’t give her a second thought then either.

There are so many questions to answer some completely illogical on their own.

Looking towards the library, nothing has changed. Not even the boulder in my stomach that weights me down. Something is about to happen. Changes are coming. She’s the initiator of it all. I just hope it’s not something of a downfall for us. It sure feels like it.

Part 1 / Part 2

Copyright 2020© by barbika1508. All rights reserved.

Dictionary: Wangseja - Crown prince, the son of the king who appointed as heir to the throne. Gonryongpo – Dragon Robe/ were the everyday dress of the emperors or kings of China, Korea Vietnam and the Ryukyu Kingdom. Samjeongdo - the sword given to newly promoted Korean military generals each year by the Ministry of National Defence. Kopis - a heavy knife with a forward-curving blade / the Ancient Greeks often used single-edged blades in warfare, as attested to by art and literature.

[ablogcalledrevenge]

Potential (A General Hux x Reader Insert Multi-Chapter Fic, Rated M)

Chapter Two

As much as Starkiller was a failure in your eyes, you wouldn’t deny that it made certain things easier. You didn’t have to worry about planting politicians in the Senate if said Senate had been blown up. Still, the vacuum that left in the galaxy needed to be filled. Smaller planets and peoples were left without leaders or guidance and they needed to be reached before the Resistance got there. That had been your mission for the past few months. 

You and the General had been sending triple encoded messages back and forth, discussing which politicians to endorse and which to drop. There were plenty of First Order sympathizers even with the demise of Starkiller but they couldn’t be too headstrong. They had to be open to suggestions and molding. A true puppet government wouldn’t work right now, you’d have to build up to it. So with his ideas and some of your own in mind, you traveled under the banner of the First Order, going from planet to planet and spaceport to spaceport, sowing pride and loyalty for your cause. For your husband’s cause. 

You had married in a beautiful but small ceremony, wanting to appeal to the grandeur of the old Empire while also acknowledging the salary of a General, even the most important one. Your father regarded the whole affair with bemusement, focusing on brown-nosing the guests and drinking expensive liquor. Your mother regarded the whole day with tired chagrin, knowing she couldn’t really complain without seeming sour and ungrateful. Perhaps it was petty, but after years of being ignored and put down, you relished in your joy. In the end, everyone got what they wanted. Your brother got the job, Hux got his money, and you got your foothold.

Then, as the night drew to a close, you couldn’t help but feel flutters of something in your stomach. You wondered what kind of experience you had coming. There were rumors about General Hux’s predilections and you wondered which were true. You were not above using sex as a way to get what you wanted from him, and he was very handsome in his dress uniform. But when you left the party and went to your suite, General Hux had merely squeezed your hand, kissed it, and then retreated to a side room to work. The air turned cold after the door between you whooshed shut and unsure of the swirl of emotions inside you- anger, betrayal, sadness, relief, happiness, confusion, embarrassment- you went to bed. Two days later, you left for your mission and he for the Finalizer.

And now you’re coming home, or what would be your home for the foreseeable future. You had plans to settle planetside but that would be a few years off. The ship was a small one, only big enough for yourself, two pilots, and a small group of Stormtroopers for your protection. They were all good, hard working people and you ingratiated yourself to them easily. It was never too early to start getting allies. Despite coming from a noble family,  you were an outsider to the First Order. The more people you had thinking of you fondly, the better off you’d be should disaster strike.

The Finalizer comes into view- massive and imposing, and your breath catches in your throat at the truly awesome amount of power it holds. The co-pilot, mistaking your gasp for romantic excitement, turns towards you with a fond smile. 

“Eager to get home to the General, my Lady?” He asks, his aged face looking kind. You glance down as if embarrassed but then quickly look back at the viewport and sigh. You couldn’t truly miss your husband, you’d been in contact with him these whole four months. The encrypted messages, though pointed and factual, made you feel something akin to closeness. You spoke of ambition and treason and he never spoke down to you but instead took your ideas into consideration. It was honestly the perfect way to be married. You never had to see him, but he still did everything you told him too.

“Oh yes! These past few months have been difficult but the Order must always come first. I know my dear husband has been so hard at work and getting to see him in action will truly be a gift.” You say with all the breathless anticipation of a newlywed. The pilots chuckle and nod, perhaps remembering their own youth, and the ship is silent until you land in the loading dock. If you roll your eyes anymore they’ll pop out of your skull. 

The Stormtroopers gather your bags and walk behind you as you exit the ship onto the Finalizer. The landing bay is a large and open area, bright floodlights hitting the silver walls and floors in a way that makes the whole place shine. It is also very cold and unfriendly. No one stops to greet you when you finally stop walking, barely anyone gives you a second glance. It’s honestly insulting. As a general’s wife, as the General’s wife, you deserve more respect. That’s not even including the fact that you are technically still a member of the ruling noble class from your home planet. At least your retinue of Stormtroopers remains behind you, loyal to a fault.

The sound of boots reach your ears and a young woman comes into view, the bands on her arm suggesting her rank of Lieutenant if you remembered correctly. Stopping in front of you, she bows slightly and you give an indulgent smile at the action.

“Good evening Lady Hux, I’m Lieutenant Stynnix. General Hux has asked me to take you to your quarters and help get you settled in.” She says, clearly impressed or at least interested in you and your dress. You bristle anyway, the insult of your own husband not coming to greet you being more important. Clearing your throat, you nod in her direction and follow her out of the landing bay and towards the officer’s quarters.

You don’t pay attention as she guides you through corridors and in lifts. You’ll make the General give you a tour later. This would be a way to speak to him and also annoy him, and you were always an expert at multitasking. Using a code you didn’t know, Lieutenant Stynnix opens the doors to General Hux’s quarters.

“The General has provided you with a datapad. All of the codes you’ll need are there, as well as a few forms you’ll need to fill out for your medical profile. You can set up your fingerprint analysis with this and send messages to anyone on the ship within your clearance level.” She explains, handing you a shiny black datapad, bigger than your hand but not unwieldy. You want to sound petty and ask exactly what clearance level your husband had so thoughtfully assigned you to, but you hold your tongue.

The quarters were large, certainly comfortable for two people. The doors opened to a sitting area, sparsely furnished. There was a low coffee table and one black leather chair. There was no artwork but there was a floor to ceiling wall of transparisteel, showing the beautiful stars as you traveled through space. Across from the coffee table and against the other wall was a light blue couch that looked uncomfortable. You admired the color, interested at it’s addition in such a utilitarian room.  Next to the transparisteel wall was a simple desk, covered in flimsi and models. It was neat and organized and you wondered if moving something over an inch would set a klaxon off. There were doors leading to other rooms, probably the bedroom and refresher, maybe a kitchen?

You turn in a circle, the silver and pink cape of your traveling dress twirling around you. It wasn’t a perfect space, far from it, but it could work. It just needed a feminine touch and some warmth; you could provide that. 

“Yes, this will do quite nicely I think. Thank you Lieutenant Stynnix. I appreciate you getting me settled in. You’ll have to forgive me though, I’m very tired. I would like to unpack, start filling out those forms, perhaps even eat something.” You say, putting your hands on your hips. 

“Of course my Lady. If you’re hungry, you can call up for a droid. The control panel for the lighting and temperature in your quarters is next to the door. The General has tasked me with acclimating you to life aboard a starship so if you need anything please feel free to send me a message.” She says with a click of her heels and a salute. You’re about to apologize for the task of babysitting you but instead she seems proud of her assignment. You decide you like Lieutenant Stynnix and having her in your corner will be a benefit. Plus, it’s always nice to have other women to talk to.

You thank her again, kindly and sincerely, and she leaves. Your bags are sitting on the floor next to the door and you let your shoulders sag. Sinking down on the blue couch, you make a noise in surprise at it’s comfort. Like everything else in this room, it looks hard and more for show than actual use. A beeping sound starts and a mouse droid enters, zooming around the room before stopping at your feet. 

“Yes?” You ask, amused at the little droid. It rolls back and forth for a moment before a transmission plays.

“This is a message from General Hux of the First Order. Welcome aboard the Finalizer. I will return to my quarters at the end of my shift. 1900 hours. Please prepare yourself to meet the troops. Fill out the forms.” The automated message repeats and you break out into laughter. What a romantic, your husband was. Still, it would be exciting to stand in front of the assembly of the First Order. Your first introduction as their Queen, even if they didn’t know it. You do have some time to change but you decide against it. It will seem more cost conscious and humble if you appear in your travel attire. Besides, it was extravagant enough to work for a simple address.

“Yes, I will. Thank you.” You respond, reaching down to pat the little mouse droid. It chirps as if used to such treatment and retreats back into it’s charging station. More pieces are added to the puzzle that is your husband. It was never a bad thing to be kind to droids and it suggested kindness in other areas that would hopefully be revealed to you soon enough. 

There was a chronometer on the desk and you realize the General will be returning sooner than you thought. Now that was something you’d have to speak to him about. You knew he didn’t like his first name but you certainly couldn’t call him “the General” for the rest of your life. Perhaps he had a nickname or enjoyed endearments? You’d have to ask him at some point, lest you embarrass him. You barely liked the man but you needed to appear united, and him jumping in shock if you called him Snookums on the bridge would work against that.

Squaring your shoulders with resolve, you get up and explore the rest of the rooms. You’re right about the doors. One leads to a small galley kitchen filled with more mugs than usable cooking equipment. That works for you; used to being served meals. Your husband likes Tarine tea and apparently nothing else. It suits him, the thought of the bitter tea making your tongue go dry in your mouth. It was almost sad, how much of General Hux’s life lacked sweetness and comfort. Did the man do anything for the simple pleasure of it? When you made him Emperor would he even enjoy it? 

Slamming a cabinet door and stalking out of the kitchen, you avoid the idea. Opening the door to the bedroom, something makes you pause before entering. You suddenly remember your wedding night, the shame and anger coiling inside of you. From the doorway you can see that it’s a simple room featuring a large bed with black sheets and two night tables. There is a dresser and an armoire and you wonder if your clothing will even fit there. Your clothing and various accessories are very important to you and you will not give them up. There is an open archway leading off to what you assume is the refresher but you close the door and return to the sitting area. The bedroom is not for you and you feel unwelcome trying to force your way in right now. 

How horrible of your husband; to make you feel so unsettled in your own home! That’s your bedroom too and yet you avoid it like the bed will swallow you whole. You’re probably safer in there then out by his desk. He certainly wouldn’t touch you among the sheets if his past behavior was anything to go off of.  You feel the urge to cry suddenly; the emotion strange and choking but you hold back. Now is not the time, especially at the start of your journey. You have no reason to cry, everything is going well. Just because your husband refused to greet you in person and has a dark, bleak home doesn’t mean you can break down. You don’t even know why you need to cry anyway; nothing is wrong, nothing bad has happened. You unpack and attempt to imagine your life here instead.

In what seems like the blink of an eye, a beep sounds and the door opens. You stand and face your husband as he enters, your hands resting at your sides to avoid fiddling with your dress or jewelry. His eyes scan your form briefly, more mechanical than appreciating, but you can’t help the way your heart skips when his bright eyes meet yours. The uniform is not a very attractive one and not even necessarily flattering but it fits him impeccably and you admire the striking figure he presents with his greatcoat. Were you other people, you’d run to his arms and kiss him madly. But you’re not other people, you don’t want his love, just his participation and obedience. 

Still, you smile as he walks towards you, pleasant and welcoming. He removes his hat and tucks it under his arm. He is speechless and you’re not quite sure why. Has the sight of you after so many long months truly arrested him? You didn’t think he considered your beauty that amazing but you would take the silence for what it was.

“Welcome home, it’s so wonderful to see you again.” You breathe out with all the sweetness you can muster. There’s no reason for you to put on an act for him, he knows of your ambitions but seeing him in person has made you want to be affectionate. You have been alone for four months.

“I hope you had a safe and comfortable journey. You look well. I know the officers are eager to meet you after my speech. As for everything else, we can discuss it later. Do you need more time to get ready? This will be broadcast to the First Order systems.” He says, before breaking away from you and going over to his desk. He moves a sheet of flimsi over to the left and you smirk behind his back. 

“No, I’m alright. Unless you don’t think this is appropriate? I’m used to galas and lunch gatherings, not addressing the entirety of the military and government. Perhaps I’ll add a circlet?” You ask, not caring about the answer at all. You want to get this over with, you want to discuss your progress and start the next phase of your plan.

“It’s fine, your dress is very becoming and fitting of your status.” He says brusquely before softening a little. He seems to consider his behavior and his shoulders drop causing you to freeze in shock. 

“Forgive me, it’s been a very long day and I won’t deny that I’m tired. (Y/N), you look very beautiful and I’m glad you’re here. I’ve enjoyed talking with you these past few months and I look forward to doing it in person. I am proud to introduce you to my fellow officers and subordinates. Please, let’s go.” He says, the ice that surrounds him melting a little. You give a genuine smile and give him your hand. The leather of his gloves feels warm against your own gloves and while he doesn’t smile in return, his gaze is less severe. He looks so young this way, so approachable. Were he any other man, you could see yourself falling in love with him.

Heading towards the bridge is an interesting exercise. Everyone must have been alerted to your presence because Stormtroopers salute and bow as you both pass and officers move out of the way to let you ahead. This is the behavior you were expecting and you give them all elegant nods. Perhaps it’s not true respect, just marvel at your unstandard dress, but you’d take their approval in whatever way you could. 

Entering the bridge causes a hush to fall over the room and you give a soft smile in response. Glancing at your husband, he leads down a walkway and towards the windows. The stars will be your backdrop as you’re introduced to your future subjects. You see Lieutenant Stynnix and give her a playful wink; she blushes. 

They’re setting up the cameras when you finally come face to face with Kylo Ren. He is ominous, tall and dark with an unforgiving mask. Your hand twitches with the urge to touch it and feel the grooves. You’re not sure if his title is one of actual nobility but you curtsy anyway. 

“Lord Ren, it’s nice to finally meet you. The General has mentioned you often and I’m eager to know if his assessment of you was correct. I have a feeling you will exceed any expectations I have and I look forward to getting acquainted.” You say, keeping your voice soft and mind blank. You were told that Kylo Ren could read minds and so you thought of simple things to make him skip over you. You thought of unpacking and cleaning your quarters, your nervousness at addressing the Order, your husband’s profile against the blackness of space. 

Kylo Ren’s only response was to cock his head at you and then walk away towards a corner. You feign confusion and disappointment and turn back to General Hux. It seemed the Force user was a very different kind of beast. You wonder if your family would be watching the broadcast and the thought fills you with malicious glee.

The address actually had nothing to do with you but this would be your first appearance in front of the First Order. There would be a little placard under the footage of you, declaring your new name and place in the universe. 

A throat clears and you face the camera as a red light turns on. General Hux squeezes your hand and steps forward towards the center of the bridge. There were a few cameras moving around and one was focused solely on you.

You were live in front of the galaxy, your galaxy, and the surge of pride that entered your being caused a sparkle in your eyes that people would talk about for decades to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If asked about it, you wouldn’t be able to say what your husband talked about. During his speech, you focused on keeping your face pleasant but neutral while occasionally sending adoring looks his way. Let them think you vapid and simple, let them underestimate you. They would learn the truth in time.

After the broadcast ends, Hux in a surprisingly display of cleverness and foresight, returns to you and takes your hand. You don’t expect him to kiss you in happy exhilaration; it would be out of character for the staid man. But showing the crew small affectations of intimacy would endear you to them. 

You’d done your research on the troop’s view of General Hux, especially after Starkiller. You wouldn’t have been surprised if they hated him, distrusted him, and ignored him. But instead, it seemed like the crew respected him more. They admired him for his calm under pressure and his acknowledgement of failure. They didn’t believe Starkiller was his fault and gave him more trust and loyalty. The First Order loved General Hux with a level of fanaticism that inspired you. 

If they thought he loved you and respected you, they’d fall in line. All you had to do was keep up a good reputation and blush in front of your husband a few times and they’d support you in your endeavors. They would listen to your flesh and blood General before the flickering image of Snoke. While your path to power wouldn’t be easy or quick, it was nice to have built in supporters.

Several officers approach you, awe in their eyes. Lieutenant Mitaka stammers out a hello and bows far too deeply to you as did the other younger officers. The older colonels and captains address your husband first before grasping your hand with approval. The female officers compliment your dress and composure. Captain Phasma, resplendent in chrome approaches but does not bow or genuflect. 

“Welcome aboard the Finalizer Lady Hux. Your work the past few months has not gone unnoticed and the Stromtroopers who you traveled with spoke very warmly of you.” Her modulated voice giving no indication of her emotion. You hate all these masks, they make you feel so uneasy.

“Thank you Captain. The same goes for you. Your Troopers are expertly trained and I felt well protected with them. I didn’t expect anything less from someone as revered and respected as you.” You say, looking up and up at her. General Hux’s hand touches briefly at your lower back before moving away and the gesture is unexpectedly sweet. 

The parade of people you have to meet seems never ending but at last it does. As General Hux leads you back towards your quarters, you recognize your path. Learning this ship is easier than you thought, though you’re sure if left to your own devices you would get lost.

“I’ve ordered dinner for us. I imagine you must be hungry.” He says as the pneumatic doors close behind you. He removes his hat again and places it on a table before heading into the bedroom. At a loss for what to do, you follow him, breaching the threshold.

“Yes, thank you. I am hungry.” You assume you’ll eat at the small table in the kitchen. There’s no space for entertaining here and that makes you frown. You’re not expecting to throw dinner parties but as a wife and nothing more for the time being, your home will be your work space. Perhaps you could commandeer a meeting room for such an occasion and only focus on small groups for the sitting area.

He nods at your agreement and taps out a few things on his datapad before taking off his gloves and laying them gently on a night table. His side obviously; it’s already been chosen for you. The sight of his bare hands stuns you and you sink to the bed unknowingly. There is an elegance to his pale hands, a grace to the long fingers and short, manicured nails. You wonder if they’re as soft as they look and if they will be as cold as the rest of him. He doesn’t notice you staring as he disrobes, or if he does, he doesn’t comment on it. 

The greatcoat comes off next and he looks so much smaller without it. He looks less like the megalomaniac you know him to be and more like a regular person. Even without the breadth his coat affords him, you still enjoy the shape of his body. You like a man you can overpower. There is something effortlessly beautiful about your husband, a sharpness to his features that shifts into curves and keeps him from looking too old and severe. His nose and cheekbones lend an aristocratic air to him while his tapered waist spoke of good proportions and decent breeding. His hair would need some work, the vibrant color dulled by gel and plastered to his skull. You understood that there were certain rules about grooming but even just a little less would be nice. His hairline was strong, he luckily wouldn’t go bald too soon. Yes, you could enjoy seeing him age, that much you decide.

“Dinner should be here in a few minutes. You can put your clothes in here, although I fear we may have to get another one if all your dresses go out like that.” He says with good humor, gesturing to the armoire. You couldn’t decide if you were offended by the statement or in agreement. You did have dresses with fuller skirts and flamboyant sleeves- though you were no Padme Amidala- so another bureau or armoire would probably come in handy. You’d need at least two drawers for your jewelry and headpieces alone. 

The door chimes and General Hux leaves the bedroom, you following quickly behind. A droid enters pushing a cart and he directs it to the kitchen. It smelled surprisingly delicious, and the relief you felt at not having to eat the officer’s rations was palpable. General Hux smirks knowingly before setting the covered platters down and thanking the droid. A surge of affection went through you at that, charmed by his behavior. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked but I knew you wouldn’t eat the normal meals officer’s get. Perhaps you could make a list of food you prefer and we’ll get that to the cooks for the future.” He says, taking off the covers to reveal a fragrant and juicy looking fowl with colorful vegetables and mashed tubers. His own meal was a protein pack and the strange sludge you knew the officers ate in the mess hall. It almost put you off your own dinner. How sad, that he was the leader of the First Order and he still ate the same things his lowest subordinates ate. His tastebuds must be shot. 

Him having better tasting meals wasn’t necessary to your plan but it would make you feel better. His well-being mattered to you and it would be very uncouth for an Emperor to still be eating rations when everyone around him was eating penne all’arrabbiata. You would improve everything in his life, get him used to the luxury of his new life.

You eat in comfortable silence, commenting on the food occasionally. It seemed that outside of his grandiose speeches, your husband was not a talker. Better for you, you had plenty to talk about.

After dinner, he sets the trays back onto the cart and wheels it outside for a droid to return to the kitchen. An awkward air settles around you as you wait for him to do something, anything. He goes to his desk and turns on a projector, fingers tapping at his datapad. Apparently it is time for work.

Throwing your hands up with a groan, you go to the bedroom to change into sleep clothes. You might as well be comfortable. If your nightgown also happens to be very flattering and thin, then that was a coincidence. You return quietly to his desk, looking at the spinning holograms for a moment before turning his chair around to face you. His look of consternation makes you chuckle. 

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough work for today? You promised we would talk and I have a lot to say. There’s so much to figure out. All of this can wait.” You say, knowing that you could be wrong and he could rebuff you like your wedding night. But he doesn’t disagree or yell at you. Instead, he gets up and leads you towards the blue couch. Curling up on the cushion, legs tucked underneath you, he retreats to the bedroom. You’re about to start screaming about his cowardice at abandoning you once again when you realize he’s getting into his sleep clothes as well. Through the open door you watch him remove his boots with a jack and the sight of his socked feet strikes you as so vulnerable and innocent. You don’t see him remove any other clothing and you don’t know whether to be grateful or discontented with that.

He returns to the couch, and to you, in a simple black shirt and soft black pants. Does the First Order make no other clothing? Is everything black and red and white with the occasional grey? No wonder they all stared at your colorful gown.

He reclines next to you and settles a gentle hand on your knee. You can’t feel it through your gown and you keep yours in your lap. You are still conflicted in your desire to be close to him.

“Tell me about your trip, (Y/N). What do we control and what comes next?” He asks, your name coming from his lips making your skin buzz. Any anger or annoyance you experienced earlier dissipates and a smile appears on your face, wide and wicked.

“We control it all. Ando and Atollon are under the First Order banner, as are Iego and their moons. I went to Eriadu and spoke with many older Empire families and they are in full support of the First Order’s current conquests though they still seem bitter about losing Hosnian Prime. Despite the fact that the planet was the home of the New Republic, they miss the exports. We should look into replacements. It may seem silly but we need the support of the Empire. We need their money and their influence, especially on the Core Worlds.” You say, grabbing your data pad off the coffee table and showing him the current statistics. They weren’t one hundred percent accurate but they gave a good overview of the First Order’s reach across the galaxy. Your finger swiped across the screen, showing him the profiles of the people in charge and the current approval rating. All in all, it was very promising. 

“Excellent. I’m glad the families on Eriadu didn’t cause you too much trouble. I find them exhausting and foolish but you’re not wrong. We do need them, as much as I loathe to admit it. Promise me that when we take control we’ll ship them off to a work camp or an ice planet and ignore them.” He asks, rubbing his eyes. The brief show of his exhaustion causes a flare of worry to rise in you. 

You gently remove his hand and kiss his fingertips, correct in your assessment that they were cold. He doesn’t stop you, moving his hand to caress your cheek. It’s the most he has ever touched you. It’s a lot for him to do this, you can tell. It’s obvious that the General has never known soft and gentle touch. Unlike on the bridge when everyone was watching, his movements here are hesitant and slow. You reward him for his bravery by turning your head in his grip and kissing his palm. It warms under your lips and you think it’s a fitting metaphor. 

His face is still and calm but his eyes have taken on a peculiar quality. It is intrigue but of a different kind than you’ve seen before. It thrills you and gives you hope that this could perhaps become a true marriage. You would’ve been happy with just a understanding partnership filled with contentment. But his reaction to you suggested more. Your kiss turns into a bite and he raises a red eyebrow in challenge.

“I promise.”

Chapter Three Coming Soon...

Tagging: @babbushka, @livy1391, @girl-next-door-writes, @renaissance-mama, @peqchynero, @the-temple-pythoness, @cupofmoonlighttea, @sincerely-cronch, @brujademente, @potato-ren​. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

[sebastianshaw]

Fic suggest: Black Queen Haven

((ooh, thanks Anon! I usually write haven post-possession and in current canon, but for this I decided to go with her still being under The Adversary’s influence, and still during the 90s. I think actually she was DEAD by this point in canon, actually, when Selene was trapped under the Hellfire Club but ehhhh. tagging @badmusesdoitwell since there’s substantial Tessa in this, though you don’t have to read it!)

“You can’t be serious,” he’d told Tessa when she had first recommended Radha Dastoor, or “Haven” as she went by, for the rank of Black Queen. The woman was an ordinary member of the Hellfire Club, just another of the ridiculously elite civilian crowd who came for galas and balls and had no idea of its dark underside. She was a philanthropist, like so many others, and though she had taken on advocating for mutantkind, she was not one herself. According to Tessa though, there was more to her than met the eye. She had...mad goals, and power to match. She was no mutant, but Tessa claimed to have accessed government data that described power on an incredible scale, a devoted cult following, great resources yes...but devoted purely to chaos, to devastation and destruction for its own sake, all the name of bringing about the Mahapralaya, some kind of Hindu apocalypse. It was not the sort of thing the Hellfire Club trafficked in, and not something he wanted to tie them to. Sure, she had power, but if she was only interested in wielding it for religious zealotry, she had no place here. “It can be profited from,” Tessa urged him, “The “natural” disasters, the riots and revolts incited, the famine...all these things, Shaw Industries can find a market in. You know this.” “I can profit from her acts without having to have anything to do with her.” “Emma has defected. Madelyne has left. Selene is trapped beneath the basement of the Club. We have a great many empty seats, and I think it would be wise to fill one with someone of your selection, who will not be a threat to you, rather than wait for someone it is to fill it herself.” “If she is not a threat, she’s not worthy to be here.” “Haven...is a threat. Just simply not to you. Your destruction...would have no benefit to her cause. She has power enough to fill the seat and be safe from anyone who would take it, and thus keeps it occupied from anyone who would use it against you.” Shaw furrowed his brow, exhaled through his nose, and thought on it. Finally, he agreed. *** Tessa’s motives had been twofold. Firstly, she indeed didn’t want Sebastian killed by one of his cohorts, as much as he might at times deserve it. If Sebastian was no longer head of the Hellfire Club, then she could no longer influence it through him. Speaking of influence, that was the second reason for her recommendation. Xavier had contacted her about Haven, made this suggestion. His own confrontation with her had gone...poorly....but he said he had sensed a second mind within her, and he wished for Tessa to investigate. And, perhaps, Tessa hoped, she could stop this woman, save her, as she had been unable to stop or save Jean, another woman of great power from the influence of a being beyond herself. Haven herself had taken some convincing, some coaxing, just as Sebastian had. She’d been shocked at first to find out there was something more to the Hellfire Club than a mere social group, but she had accepted the surprise with grace, conceding that perhaps she should have guessed that the super-rich among the super-rich would form such cabals. Cabals that, she had said with the most polite of phrasing, she simply wasn’t interested in. Her actions were based not in the desire for personal power or gain, but in holiness, goodness, compassion. And she believed it, Tessa could tell. Even as the woman spoke of the massacres to come, she radiated both sorrow and divinity, the purity of her belief making it all the more tragic. She hated what she was doing yet she truly, Tessa didn’t need to be psychic to see, was compelled to. Tessa did most of the talking. Shaw was scornful of religious at the best of times, and she knew that Haven’s strange angelic, soft-spoken zealotry engendered nothing but scoffs and sneers from him, which hardly would persuade her. Tessa also made no use of telepathy, not just yet---Xavier had spooked her when she’d been aware of him creeping in, and Tessa knew she was no Xavier. No, she manipulated in a different way. She appealed to logic, made the calculations of what would appeal rationally to Haven, rather than pulling at her heartstrings. But if she had done that, if she could have---she knew it would have worked. After all her data on the woman’s deeds, she was unprepared for how...kind she was. Even her conversation was gentle, and she looked to Tessa with eyes of...it was as though she were being held by that gaze, embraced, as though Haven had never met her but loved her nonetheless. She’d looked the same way at Sebastian, though Tessa doubted he saw it. It sometimes seemed that just as Sebastian was insensitive to tender feelings himself, he was just as insensitive to seeing them in others. But Tessa...was taken aback by the woman, and she continued to be taken aback by her. Over her years in Shaw’s service, Tessa had become used to being ignored at best, derided at worst. Not by Sebastian himself---she was a valuable asset to him and he treated her as such---but by the others of the Hellfire Club, who were her primary, perhaps only, source of human contact. They either looked past her entirely, or leered at her when she was in her lingerie costume, or derided her because they could not directly attack Shaw without consequence. This was good. It was what she wanted, what suited her mission, to be considered invisible, beneath notice, beneath ever being seen as a threat, as nothing more than Shaw’s lap dog or ornament, a mere secretary or eye-candy, usually both. Haven wasn’t like that. She smiled every time she saw Tessa, asked her how she was, and sounded like she MEANT it. It wasn’t just a social nicety. It made Tessa feel...human special, even if Haven said the same to Shaw, to everyone. Because she really did mean it for everyone. She tried to find out Tessa’s interests, bring her small gifts, connect with her...it, it was hard to fend off. She’d dealt with would-be gal pals from the maids and would-be suitors here and there, but everyone eventually understood---Tessa was cold. Tessa was a robot. Tessa wasn’t interested. Tessa wasn’t real. Haven...she didn’t press. She didn’t try to CHANGE Tessa or try to make her feel something, yet at the same time treated her so... It didn’t matter. The death toll on Haven’s hands had continued to mount. The reports had been true, and now she had the resources of the Hellfire Club at her disposal. It was up to Tessa to begin doing what Xavier what could not. It was up to her to free this woman...or, if it came to it, end her. *** Haven made Shaw uneasy. Tessa had been right, her simpering philanthropic principles and soft-minded religious zealotry were ridiculous to him in equal measure, but neither was disturbing to him. Indeed, the former was more immoral to him than the latter, but it was nothing unusual. Many people swallowed the societal norm that the haves should help the have-nots with hand-outs, and Haven was clearly not the sort to think for herself---hence the religious zealotry---it was something he’d seen countless times before in countless other fools. And her powers, whatever their source...those were unusual, but as much as she was wasting them, Tessa was right, they at least kept others at bay. No, this wasn’t what got under his skin. Nor that fact she cared for the sick and orphaned in the same day as wiping out millions of the same and seemed equally sincere in both, nor knowing she could wipe him out of existence if she so chose just by thinking about it, nor the way her eyes were sometimes solid black like volcanic glass. No, her eyes bothered him for a different reason. It was when they were normal, when they were plain big brown eyes that looked at him like...like...like she felt sorry for him. The softness in them, the sympathy, the gentle way she spoke when she refuted any attempt he made at engaging her in rationality. It was infuriating, provoking. It made him want to push harder, and he didn’t like that---not because Shaw had any qualms doing it, but because he didn’t like the feeling he was being influenced towards ANYTHING, even something he’d have done anyway. He’d walked in on her crying once and been  struck by the shocking urge to hit her. The shocking part wasn’t the  violence in mind, but the fact he cared enough to think of it, that he  wanted her to stop crying, that he did not want her to cry, to be  distressed, that it distressed him, and his only understanding of what  to do to make her cease was that violence. And that unnerved him too, that he had given a damn, enough to want to hurt her. He hadn’t. But he’d wanted to.   He wanted to hurt her a lot, to force her to fight back. She was a gentle thing, for all her power, and someone else was going to do it sooner or later, someone who MEANT it, someone who knew what she was doing with that power and planned to stop her PERMANENTLY. Better she learn NOW, since she should have long ago, against someone who WANTED her to do it. Who WANTED her to fight back. Of course, if she did, well...given what her powers did, that’d be the end of him, so he didn’t. But he wanted to. To see those soft eyes turn to hard obsidian and those open palms curve into claws that would tear his own from their sockets. But he didn’t. One day, someone else would make her. And that was not, he reminded himself, his business or his responsibility. If she wished to be weak despite all the power she possessed, she deserved what she got, it was not his problem. Not his problem. Still, his growing irritation with her lack of self-preservation and his disgust with her...expressions at him...began to color their interactions. Until one day, she had to asked, gentle and polite as ever, “Have I offended you, Mr. Shaw?” Of course she had. But he wasn’t exactly sure how to express that without sounding like a lunatic. “I’m not offended, Ms. Dastoor. I simply find you unbearably insipid. That’s all.” And she smiled at him. That sweet, damnable smile. And he’d lost it. He’d told her in no uncertain terms---and no uncertain volume--what he thought of her, why he thought, and what he’d like to do to her for it, what he’d like for HER to do, what--- She’d kept smiling, even as her eyes got sadder and sadder as he spoke, and she reached out and touched him, holding the side of his face, "There’s a hole in you,” she said, like a deathbed nurse giving comfort, “A hollow, with no opening. No light gets in. Any bit of brightness someone sends your  way goes out and you can’t perceive it or produce any of your own to  return it. I don’t know if you were hurt or you are made this way but  it’s as real a defect as if you had a missing  limb. And like a missing  limb, it does not cause you pain but it impedes you. And just as  physical deformities make others wince to gaze upon, so too am I in  pain when I feel this from you, when I see you suffering without knowing you are suffering.   Do you think I do not feel your crushing void?” He felt it, in that moment, a black hole that sucked out any possible response, any possible THOUGHT for response. But it wasn’t from inside him. It was coming from her. He told Tessa the next day to get rid of her.

[koyacyi-vode]

26 Rex and Padme? #uncommon ship. Lol

Sorry this is so late! || Prompt from this post

Prompt 26 - “I didn’t intend to kiss you.”

Characters: Rex and Padmé

The rest under a readmore!

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Padmé held herself with such grace it was almost terrifying. Even through the last few years of running and hiding, Rex still saw the refined and practiced motions that she'd always moved with when she was a senator.

When he'd first met her, he'd seen what kind of fighter she was. He didn't have to know the harrowing tales of the Invasion of Naboo when she had been Queen and still just a child, or how she had fought alongside Jedi and clone alike on Geonosis. He'd seen it in her eyes the first time they met. The quiet but fiery determination that fueled her actions. That fire had turned into an inferno when the war had ended. Rex had always admired her for her tenacity. He'd never realized just how much of it she actually had. 

She was pacing at the moment. They were waiting on word from Ahsoka, but it was taking longer than either of them would have liked. They'd only just arrived at their current safehouse, and tensions were high until they felt safe in their current location.

Rex was positioned in the window, looking down the scope of an ancient but solid sniper rifle, searching for movement in the growing darkness outside.

"Ma'am," Rex said, keeping his attention through his scope. "You should really sit down. You'll just wear yourself out," he suggested. He heard Padmé stop her pacing abruptly. She sighed.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Padmé?" she asked, a soft resignation in her tone. 

"At least once more, ma'am," he said, and he grinned at the annoyed sound she made. Rex's comm crackled and then Ahsoka's voice drifted through, calm and focused. 

"We're clear. But I'm going to extend my radius a bit more just in case. Area is deserted, and we weren't spotted, so we will be safe here for a few nights," she relayed. The tension seeped from Rex's shoulders immediately and he sighed, lowering his rifle. He picked up his comm.

"Copy that Fulcrum, let us know when you're on your way back," he said, and she confirmed with a rather cheeky 'roger roger' before signing off. Rex put his comm in his pocket and stood up, joints popping from being in one position for too long. 

"We'll be safe for the night," he told Padmé. She visibly relaxed and nodded, the tense angles of her shoulders softening incrementally. She looked different now, and it wasn't just the lack of ostentatious senate attire. The end of the war had hardened her more than the rest of them.

"I'm going to check on them, they've been locked in the back room for a while," she murmured, and walked towards the end of the hall where they had put Luke and Leia while securing the perimeter.

When the Republic fell, he didn't think he would ever see Padmé again. But she had found them. Rex had no idea how she had managed it, but only a few weeks after everything had come to a catastrophic end she appeared with one newborn strapped to her back and one to her front. And Rex knew from that moment on he would do everything in his power to keep her and her children safe.

The twins hadn't been a surprise. He'd been well aware of Padmé's pregnancy before the end of the war. They were about four years old now. It had taken a while for Rex to get used to being around such young children. But he loved them with all of his heart, even if sometimes just the sight of them would make him ache. The familiarity of their mannerisms and faces were agonizingly similar to their father. He saw the same pain in Padmé's face every now and then when she looked at them.

They didn't talk about him much, the General. Ahsoka never spoke about him and Rex was smart enough not to even think about him with her around. It hadn't been a pleasant first conversation. Padmé had recounted her discovery of Anakin's betrayal with subdued, detached seriousness. Whether she had come to terms with it for the sake of her own sanity, or for her children, Rex would never know. Ahsoka had been distraught, and disappeared for several weeks, before returning in grim despair. From then on it had been the five of them and the ghost of the man who had once tied them all together.

Years later, it still felt like a fresh wound, seeping and septic. 

Padmé returned alone, and Rex tore himself from his memories. She gave him a small smile and sat down on the dusty couch near him. 

"They fell asleep," she said, answering his unasked question. "Curled next to each other right where we left them," she leaned back, sagging a bit. She was tired. They all were. Rex swallowed and walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You should rest too, ma'am," he suggested quietly. Padmé hummed and gave him a tiny, tired smile, placing her hand on top of his. Rex had to fight to keep his face neutral, since the touch alone almost made him jump out of his skin. 

"You're a kind man, Rex," she said softly. "You've done so much for me and the children. We wouldn't have made it this far without you and Ahsoka," she admitted. Rex's brow furrowed in confusion.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, ma'am," he countered. Because it was true. He believed wholeheartedly that she could hold her own. She wouldn't have to though, and he would fight to his dying breath so she wouldn't have to. But she could. Padmé snorted a laugh and the bright sound made Rex's face inexplicably heat up. She stood up and smiled at him fully, and it was rare to see her smile like that. Rex treasured every one of them. 

"Your confidence in me is flattering, but I do feel much safer with you around," she said warmly, grasping both of his hands lightly between her own. Rex was momentarily transfixed with how small her hands were, slim and elegant, but not without the blemishes and calluses that told of their years of running and fighting. "Really, thank you," and she pulled him into an embrace that almost made him stumble in shock. It took him several seconds to respond and then he returned the gesture, if a bit awkwardly since she was significantly shorter and slighter than him. 

It had been quite a while since anyone had hugged him, apart from the kids. Rex hadn't realized how much he had missed the physical warmth and touch of another person and he found himself melting into her arms and tightening his own around her. Padmé breathed a heavy sigh into his chest. Rex wondered if maybe she was feeling the same thing. They stayed still and quiet, just holding each other for several seconds before he spoke.

"I'm glad I can help you in any way, ma'am," he murmured, slightly mortified with how hoarse his voice was. Padme's shoulders shook with a small laugh. 

"Padmé," she insisted. 

"Sorry," he whispered, even though he wasn't really that sorry. Padmé's arms lowered slowly, her hands drifting across the back of Rex's shirt in a way that  sent a tiny shiver down his spine, and she pulled a little further back. 

This, Rex realized suddenly, was dangerous territory. Because she was definitely too close, and he didn't want to pull away. And he should pull away. But he didn't and there was a half a moment's breath between her hand sliding against the back of his neck and tilting her head and then all thoughts of retreat were blown away as she kissed him. 

It was soft and hesitant, her other hand pressed up feather-light against his chest. And before Rex could get his brain to think he kissed her back. He brought one hand up to cup her cheek and the other braced on the small of her back as their lips slid together a bit firmer, a bit more insistent. He'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't thought about this. Over the past few years he'd come to admire her in more than just a professional respect. Ahsoka had found out several months ago and had teased him about it, but she had the tact not to say anything or goad him on about it. Because, well... Remembering the why made Rex's brain come to a stumbling halt.

He pulled back, not sharply, but with enough purpose that Padmé retreated. He couldn't look at her, his mind swimming in guilt. He felt almost wounded, which was a ridiculous feeling to have over this kind of thing. But the tightness in his chest was as tangible as any physical injury. He exhaled heavily through his nose, controlling his breathing the best he could. She was quiet for a few moments, most likely a bit shocked herself. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't intend to kiss you." Rex risked a glance at her. Her brow was furrowed in a complicated emotion with one of her hands pressed against her mouth. Rex had a feeling he understood a bit of what was bothering her. They were connected to the same source of pain and guilt after all.

"I know," he rasped. She turned back to him and her eyes held a deep sorrow that he wished he didn't have to see. Rex sighed and closed his eyes, trying to relax the rigid posture he had accidentally locked himself into. "I think…" he searched for the right words, painfully aware of her expectant gaze on him. "I think that it's… too soon... for this," he clarified, hoping to Force that she would understand what he meant, since there was no way he could explain it any better. Padmé smiled sadly and he saw the recognition in her face, the understanding. It didn't make him as relieved as he would have liked. 

"I agree," she said, and Rex's heart clenched painfully. She traced her fingertips over his cheek before she withdrew completely and Rex shuddered. He wasn't sure how they would proceed, now that this was out in the open. It was one thing to want someone. But it was another thing entirely for that desire to be requited. But they had wounds still too fresh to heal. And they both knew better than to pick at scabs. 

Maybe one day, when their wounds have healed more and death wasn't trailing their every move, they could be something different together. But for now, it was safer for them to maintain their imagined distance. 

"You should get some rest, ma'am," he repeated, their earlier conversation feeling like it had taken place years ago. Padmé nodded, her expression distant and melancholy. She stepped back from him, giving him some space as she walked back towards the room with the twins. When she reached the door she turned back towards him, her hand against the doorframe.

"Good night, Rex," she said softly. He nodded at her, tight and tense. 

"Good night, Padmé."

[karama9]

On Chloe

Spoilers for miraculous season 3 finale below. Turn back now if you don't want them.

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Seriously, spoiler ahead. I’m not even going to speak in tongue. Turn back or you will be spoiled.

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WARNING

SPOILERS STARTING HERE

LAST CHANCE

Ok.

Chloe just had one heck of a step back in her personal growth, hasn't she? It's disappointing. I was holding out hope she was tricking Hawk Moth because even her speech pattern was unusual and she had never been mean to Pollen before. And I don't even like her much... the hope was just out of empathy: I was hoping she'd pick the right option for herself.

So, disappointing? Yes. If you really like the character or are really on board for a full redemption arc for her, probably painful to see her make such a bad choice and stick with it.

One thing I don't think it is, however, is inconsistent or out of character. I said before that I think Chloe didn't get the bee miraculous again (after just finding it the first time) because she deserved it but because she needed it. Chloe, throughout the series, has been looking for validation with increasing desperation. She started off able to convince herself everyone adored her, but that certainty has long since eroded. Her self worth has taken a nose dive, aggravated by her mother continuing to reject her, even leading Chloe to ask why she didn't love her.

Chloe is very entitled but she also has a strong will. If she doesn't get her way, she doesn't sit and complain, she does something about it. It'd be admirable if she wasn't so willing to hurt anyone to get her smallest desires and if her go to problem solving tactic wasn't to abuse her father's power.

Once Ladybug arrived, Chloe fell in love with the idea of a super hero. She wanted to BE Ladybug. It was not a selfless desire to help others, and I don't think it ever was: it was for the fame, pure and simple. At her most desperate to find her own self worth again, self worth that she has always defined mostly by how much status she has, she expresses she doesn't want to be useless - but the reason she feels useless is because she feels unappreciated, unloved. She thinks of it as useless and worthless, but it's rooted not in her actions but on how she's perceived. Ladybug hopes that even though her motivation is based on how she's seen, Chloe will learn to be better. Most of us learn to be good as young children mostly because we crave the approval that goes with it, after all. Basically, morally, Chloe is super immature. She has nearly no moral compass of her own. As long as she was focused only on the fact her father loved her, she loved herself too and assumed she was perfect. But once she saw how much everyone loved Ladybug and worse, started to see how so very few people liked her, a subset that didn't even include her own mother who she greatly admires, she started craving more admiration.

Being a hero was her chosen solution. As Queen Bee, she could be like Ladybug, adored by all. She could hear how wonderful she was, how much good she was doing, over and over again, nearly effortlessly. Being better the way Adrien and Jean-Something suggested was hard for her and it was a non-stop effort into acting in a way that was not natural to her, but being a super hero was far more satisfying and fun. It's no wonder she had zero interest in hiding her identity.

And then she lost that and once it was confirmed she'd probably never be Queen Bee again, she was very resentful of Ladybug, and lost all desire to be like her. The idea of being famous for being a super hero was probably still attractive, but as a far more remote possibility than it had ever been.

So how was she going to resist Hawkmoth seeking her out specifically, again, and calling her his queen? She's lost the opportunity to be adored as a super hero, she's back to having hardly anyone thinking she's wonderful, and here's Hawkmoth, who thinks her very valuable, a QUEEN, enough to try and get her to join him twice, enough to give her the bee miraculous unconditionally, enough to agree to HER conditions with no hesitation. How does Ladybug compare? From Chloe's point of view, she tossed her aside, she declared her not worth the risk. She might as well have declared Chloe worthless.

She might have lost the chance to be adored as a super hero, but she can still be a Queen and even Chloe's heard of making do with being feared if you can't be loved. It's still a form of importance. It's still status. It's still Worth. And it would certainly show Ladybug how much she's lost when she gave her up. It'd show EVERYONE how wonderful she was as Queen Bee and how they should have valued her more. Everyone would have to recognize her superiority now. They would bow to their Queen.

[waltzofthewifi]

Kota Chapter 42: Boss Fight

Table of Contents | Beginning

Queen Bee, Pegasus, and Kota met up on a rooftop overlooking the akuma.

"Mr Pigeon?" Queen Bee questioned, wrinkling her nose. "Seriously?"

"Should be easy to contain," Pegasus said. "I'll create the portal, you two push him in?"

"Send him somewhere without a lot of pigeons," Queen Bee.

"Like the arctic," Kota suggested.

"No, not like the arctic," Queen Bee argued. "Some place not freezing cold without pigeons."

"So the Sahara?" Pegasus questioned.

"No!"

"Pegasus, what's the holdup?" Ladybug asked, her voice coming through clear on their earbuds.

"We can't agree on a location," Queen Bee reported.

"She can't agree on a location," Kota corrected.

"Ignore them, Ladybug," Pegasus interjected. "I'm looking up the coordinates for a location."

"Okay," Ladybug replied. "Stay on task. Mr Pigeon isn't much of a threat, but that doesn't mean you can let your guards down."

"Understood," Pegasus replied. "Creating portal now. Voyage!"

The portal appeared behind Mr Pigeon. Queen Bee and Kota launched from the rooftop together. Kota expanded her kite and hit him in the chest, Queen Bee roped her top around his legs and pulled him through the portal.

Pegasus followed, the portal closing behind him.

The portal had taken them to a large theater. Solid walls surrounded them on three sides, with no windows, and an ornate ceiling arched overhead. The stage was huge and empty, the curtains pulled back.

"No pigeons to help you here," Queen Bee said. "Venom!"

Mr Pigeon froze.

"That was easy," Kota commented. "Now what?"

The symbol for the four heroes disappeared off Ladybug's yo-yo, telling them the akuma was out of range.

"Okay, we're good to go," Ladybug reported. "Bunnyx, take your group and enter through the window on the first floor. We'll go through the giant window."

"Got it," Bunnyx replied. "You three good to go?"

Taurus, Souris Rose, and Roi Singe all gave her a thumbs up.

"Taurus, you go first," Ladybug said.

Taurus nodded, and the four superheroes jumped from the roof to the street.

"Charge!" Taurus activated his power, blue electric streaks appearing briefly. His eyes lit up electric blue.

He took off with a running start, the other heroes right behind him, and smashed shoulder-first through the window.

Nathalie, currently assumed to be Mayura, had been sitting at her desk. She jumped up when the heroes crashed in.

"Give it up, Mayura!" Bunnyx said, stepping forward. "Give us your miraculous and this will be painless."

Nathalie stared at the heroes for a moment in shock.

"Well?" Bunnyx prompted.

"Ga-"

"Nope!" Bunnyx interrupted, roundhouse kicking Nathalie in the chest. "Burrow!"

The burrow opened behind Nathalie just in time for her to fall through.

The four heroes followed, the portal closing behind them, as Nathalie stood back up.

"Duusu, Fluff my feathers!"

Bunnyx had to stifle a laugh. What kind of transformation was that?

Roi Singe did not stifle his laugh, and Mayura scowled at him.

Bunnyx summoned another portal, to a forest during a time it was completely empty, and kicked Mayura through the portal again.

"Stop doing that," Mayura growled.

She opened her fan and grabbed a feather.

Taurus and Roi Singe both moved to interfere, but Bunnyx held up her hand.

Mayura used a blade of grass for her amok, and the sentimonster began to form.

"Taurus, Souris, you stay here and deal with Mayura," Bunnyx said. "Roi, you're with me. Burrow!"

The sentimonster had completely formed into a toad-like grass monster, and Bunnyx ran at it and punted it through the portal. Roi Singe followed, and Bunnyx closed the portal behind her.

The sentimonster recovered quickly, and growled at Bunnyx. She went to kick him again, but he grabbed her foot with his mouth and bit down.

"Ow!" Bunnyx yelped.

Roi Singe smacked the toad with his staff, which did absolutely nothing. Bunnyx repeatedly hit it with her umbrella, which also did absolutely nothing.

"Get! Off!"

Roi Singe slid his staff under the toad, and used it to throw the sentimonster upwards. Unfortunately, it kept Bunnyx's foot in its mouth for most of that, so Bunnyx was also sent flying.

When she crashed into the floor, the sentimonster was gone.

"Where did it go?" Bunnyx demanded. Her ankle hurt, which was annoying. Why did it have to be her ankle again?

"It vanished," Roi Singe helped Bunnyx up, and Bunnyx was glad to find she could put some, but not a lot, of weight on her ankle.

"Ugh, of course," Bunnyx complained. "The amok was still with Mayura, so she could still control it! Come on, let's go back for round two."

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Kota stared at the ceiling, completely bored.

"You know," Pegasus said. "With this latest power up, I could have created a portal for both the akuma and the sentimonster."

"And then we wouldn't be so bored," Queen Bee whined.

"The power up was a last minute thing," Kota said. "We couldn't change our plans so late."

"I guess," Queen Bee replied.

Mr Pigeon was still frozen. There were still no pigeons.

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"Multitude!"

It was hard, being small in a forest, but Souris Rose wasn't going to let that stop her. All of the Souris Roses merged on Mayura, grabbing her boots and climbing upwards. The target was simple: her fan.

Taurus charged, swinging his horn down on Mayura. Mayura dodged, coming up with an uppercut to Taurus's chin that knocked him back. She slashed with her fan, but Taurus blocked with his forearm and punched at her fan arm. She barely managed to dodge in time, backing up and tripping on a root.

Mayura recovered her balance, but it gave Taurus a chance to close in on her. He grabbed her non fan wrist, and yanked her against a tree.

She squirmed and twisted, breaking free just in time for the first Souris Rose to get to the fan. She started pulling the feathers out, which was hard to do while hanging on for her life. Eventually, more Souris Roses joined her, and the fan began to thin.

Mayura noticed a few minutes later. "Huh?"

She shook her fan, but the Souris Roses held on.

Taurus landed a punch in Mayura's face, knocking her down.

"Grab her Miraculous!" A Souris Rose yelled, not loud enough for him to hear.

Taurus still reached for the miraculous. Mayura recalled the amok from the grass blade, and tossed the feather at the closest object.

It landed on a tree.

"What do you think you're doing, putting spells on me?"

Mayura, Taurus, and all the Souris Roses froze as someone walked out of the tree.

"Who are you?" Taurus asked.

The person scoffed. "I'm the nymph."

"What?"

Mayura grabbed Taurus by the wrist and twisted it away, forcing Taurus off of her. Taurus yanked his wrist away from her hold, but that action made him lean back, allowing Mayura to slip out.

She was muttering to herself, Souris Rose realized. No, not to herself - to the nymph, who now had the amok.

Souris Rose didn't have a chance to use that realization, because a dog-like sentimonster had formed. It jumped on Mayura, wagging its tail, and a blue glow surrounded it, Mayura, and the heroes.

A rubber duck bounced on its head just as the world went dark.

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Bunnyx frantically glanced through windows, trying to figure out where the sentimonster had ended up. Now that Mayura was separated from the amok - still in the tree - they could effectively separate the sentimonster from Mayura.

"Come on, come on, where are you?" Bunnyx muttered. She was running out of time -

Wait. Time travel.

It didn't matter how long it took, she could travel right to the moment her allies appeared.

Bunnyx took a deep breath, and kept searching.

.

The world went black, and then he was drowning.

Taurus kicked upwards. He was never a good swimmer, but he still had that extra strength boost, and he was able to surface quickly.

At some point, Bunnyx and Roi Singe had ended up in the water as well - the water being the ocean they were currently stranded in. Souris Rose was slowly reforming into one person besides Taurus, struggling to stay above the water.

"Where'd Mayura go?" Bunnyx asked, kicking furiously to keep her head above the water.

"Uhhh," Roi Singe replied, pointing to something behind Bunnyx and Taurus.

Taurus turned, stomach sinking at the sight of a huge sea serpent behind him, Mayura standing on its head.

"Wha - that's not fair!" Bunnyx argued. "You're supposed to be disconnected from your amok!"

Mayura smirked. "The nymph gave it up - something that works no matter where - or when - I am."

Bunnyx cursed.

The sea serpent roared, and the battle recommenced.

Bunnyx made gestures that vaguely looked like a plan, and the three other heroes nodded and hoped they understood her correctly. Roi Singe summoned his power, keeping the item close by, while Bunnyx distracted Mayura and the serpent.

Taurus took a deep breath and dove under water, Souris Rose right behind him. They surfaced where the serpent's body came out of the water. Taurus pulled himself up onto the serpent, and helped Souris Rose on.

It took a lot of grip strength to climb a wet and constantly moving serpent. Taurus was thankful for his extra strength. He had no idea how Souris Rose was holding on.

They made it up the serpent without being noticed. With Mayura on its head, the serpent was keeping its head mostly level, even as it snapped at Bunnyx, so Taurus and Souris Rose were able to stand up.

"Multitude," Souris Rose whispered, dividing again into many.

The Souris Roses scatted to the front in two main groups - heading for the eyes. Taurus readied his weapon and aimed for Mayura.

He charged, coming at Mayura from the back and sending them both into the water. Taurus reached for the miraculous, but Mayura was the better swimmer and shook him off.

Mayura surfaced first and swam towards the now slightly-blinded sea serpent. The serpent lowered its head, letting Mayura climb back on.

She didn't have a chance to see Roi Singe before banana peel smacked into her face.

The serpent disappeared under her feet, and Mayura fell right into Bunnyx's grip. Bunnyx grabbed the miraculous, and Mayura detransformed.

Roi Singe let out a whoop.

Nathalie smirked. "Not so fast."

"What do you mean, not so fast?" Bunnyx questioned. "You're detransformed, de-miraculoused, you don't have a sentimonster-"

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong," Nathalie said. "Sentimonsters don't disappear just because I detransfromed."

"But-" Roi Singe started. He was cut off when the dog sentimonster resurfaced, nudging Nathalie with its nose.

They both vanished.

Bunnyx cursed again.

.

"Okay, we're good to go," Ladybug reported. "Bunnyx, take your group and enter through the window on the first floor. We'll go through the giant window."

"Got it," Bunnyx replied. "You three good to go?"

Taurus, Souris Rose, and Roi Singe all gave her a thumbs up.

"Taurus, you go first," Ladybug said.

Taurus nodded, and the four superheroes jumped from the roof to the street.

Ladybug watched them land, before turning back to the remaining heroes.

"Viperion?"

Viperion nodded. "Second chance!"

A moment later he flinched. "We need to be careful going in. Hawkmoth's lair is armed to the teeth."

"Chat Noir, do you think you can disarm that with a cataclysm?" Ladybug asked.

Chat Noir nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright," Ladybug said. "Ready?"

"Ready." Rena Rouge grabbed her flute and flipped it in her fingers.

"Ready." Carapace lifted his shield.

"I'm always ready," Ryuko said, unsheathing her sword.

"Ready," Viperion said.

"Chat?" Ladybug asked.

Chat Noir nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready."

"Alright. Let's go!"

Chat Noir used his baton to scan the mansion, finding the place where his cataclysm could destroy the security system immediately. He took advantage of the powerup to cataclysm the window as well, and Ladybug went in first.

"Gabriel Agreste," Ladybug said. "Hand over your Miraculous, and surrender."

Hawkmoth scowled. "Ladybug. I was wondering why my akuma disappeared. Clever for-"

Carapace's shield whacked into Hawkmoth, knocking him backwards.

"Last chance to end things without a fight," Ladybug said.

"Never."

Hawkmoth picked up the shield and threw it at Ladybug. Ladybug ducked and swung her yo-yo, trapping Hawkmoth by the legs. She pulled, bringing him closer.

Ryuko placed her sword against his neck.

Ladybug reached down and grabbed the miraculous, ready for something to interfere. It couldn't be this easy, could it?

The brooch came off, and Hawkmoth detransformed.

"Rena, call the police and tell them we have Hawkmoth in custody," Ladybug said.

Something smacked into Ladybug. She fell forward, brooch flying out of her hand.

Yep. There it is.

Ladybug rolled back onto her feet, but whatever knocked into her was gone. As was the brooch.

Gabriel cackled. "I can always depend on Nathalie."

"Are you sure?" Ryuko questioned. "She could have saved you, but she went for the miraculous instead."

"Seems like she might want the wish for herself," Carapace added.

"You're mistaken. Nathalie is loyal."

"Sure," Ladybug said. "Either way, you're finished, Gabriel Agreste."

.

Bunnyx's team was waiting on the roof of the hotel.

"Ladybug!" Bunnyx said, when Ladybug landed. "I'm so sorry we let Mayura go-"

"It's okay," Ladybug said. "I miscalculated team sizes. I should have given you more support - we definitely didn't need it."

Behind her, Carapace snickered.

"We did get the peacock miraculous," Bunnyx said, handing it to Ladybug.

"Good job," Ladybug said. "That only leaves Mayura one miraculous, not two. And now that we know who she is, we have a chance of tracking her down without magic. Today was a success, don't forget that."

"We should celebrate!" Roi Singe suggested. "Let's get ice cream!"

"At a later time, maybe," Ladybug said. "First, we have some things to work out."

Next Chapter

[gryffindorcls]

The Best Friend Swap: Chapter 1

Five years ago, Adrien Agreste’s life shattered into a million pieces.  The final battle with Hawkmoth had been intense.  Every miraculous had a holder, and Ladybug valiantly led her team to victory.  However, in the end, it turned into a battle between the original dynamic duo and the villain they sought to defeat.  The rest of the heroes defended the perimeter against an onslaught of Akumas and Sentimonsters.  After hours of fighting, Ladybug finally ripped the Butterfly Miraculous off of Hawkmoth.  When the light faded to reveal a seething Gabriel Agreste, Chat broke. 

To this day, Marinette can still hear the anguished scream that came from Chat Noir as he collapsed into a heap on the ground.  She remembers holding the shaking boy as he begged for it to be nothing more than a horrible nightmare.  That was the day she learned that her “Chaton” was Adrien. 

When Chat’s mask melted away, Gabriel crumbled, as well.  During the battle, they had fought each other viciously.  At that moment, both Agrestes were inconsolable.  Ladybug simply held Adrien as he and his father came to terms with their new reality. 

By the time the tears subsided, Ladybug’s mask was long gone.  As Adrien’s eyes met Marinette’s, she could see a small spark of hope reignite within him.  They sat together, huddling in the cold.  They were exposed in more ways than one, but at that moment all that mattered was each other. 

From then on, Marinette and Adrien were an inseparable pair.  They walked hand in hand down the winding road of recovery.  With each new struggle Adrien encountered, Marinette could be found supporting him in every way she could.  It wasn’t long before their mutual feelings led them to become a couple.  They became each other’s strength and solace.

As painful as it was, Adrien decided that he wanted his father to remain a part of his life, and Marinette respected his choice.  At the time, Hawkmoth simply disappeared.  Paris knew none the wiser, and it gave the Agreste family the space it needed to heal.

Years passed, and many things became easier.  Unfortunately, nature abhors a vacuum, so the void created by the absence of Akumas gave rise to a new conflict.  Gabriel and Adrien began to work closely to find a cure for Mrs. Agreste’s condition; however, after a tragic mistake during their quest, the Butterfly Miraculous once again fell into the wrong hands.  Shortly after, a new, more ruthless Hawkmoth rose to infamy.  

Today, Ladybug and Chat Noir still fight side-by-side, their bond stronger than before the reveal.  However, the secret of their identities no longer belonged exclusively to each other and Gabriel Agreste.  Through Ladybug’s leadership, Paris’ team of heroes formed a bond of mutual trust.  She brought them together just as King Arthur assembled his knights at the round table.  To Ladybug, the other holders were not her subordinates; instead, they were equals in her eyes.  They knew one another in and out of the masks, rendering them a formidable team against the destruction left in the wake of the city’s new supervillain.

Even though Ladybug had a battalion of superheroes at her disposal, she still preferred the company of her beloved Chaton.  He is, was, and forever will be her partner--they were balanced in every way.  

They listened to each other, so when Marinette suggested that Adrien try going to therapy, he complied.  He worked hard with his therapist to not only heal his relationship with his father but to strengthen his friendships with others, as well.  So, when Adrien suggested that he and Marinette spend time with the other person’s best friend, she was not surprised.

“Think about it, Bugaboo.  How well do you know Nino?” he asked, taking a seat next to her on the living room couch in his apartment.

Marinette cleared her throat.  “Uhm...we went to school together when we were little, but I didn’t start hanging out with him until you and Alya came along.”

Adrien nodded his head. “And I don’t know Alya outside of our double dates and...well...I guess we also spend time together when we...you know…”

She offered him a sideways glance. “Become magical superheroes who save Paris from destruction every week?”

He smiled and clapped his hands together. “Yes!  That.  When we do that.”

“Okay...let me get this straight.  You want me to spend a day alone with Nino, and you want to spend a day alone with Alya.  Did I get that right?”

“That’s what I am proposing, yes.”

Marinette scooted closer to her boyfriend and wrapped her arms around his torso.  “I like it.”

Adrien grinned, looped his arms around her tiny form, and pressed her into his chest.  “You do?”

She giggled and craned her neck towards his face.  Marinette gave him a gentle peck on the cheek.  “Yes, Chaton.  I think it’s a wonderful idea.  When were you planning on putting this little plan into action?”

“I was kind of hoping we could do it this Saturday.”

“Wow...that soon, huh?  I'll have to see if they're available.”

“I may have already talked to Nino...and he agreed.  He and I already came up with activities to do with both of you.”

Marinette laughed.  “Awww!  That's so cute, Minou!  Of course, you would already have something planned.”

Adrien nuzzled the top of her head.  “I felt like you and Alya deserved to have a good time if we decided to do this.”

She pulled away and gazed into her boyfriend’s eyes.  The look of sincerity on his face melted Marinette’s heart.

“Come here, Chaton,” she whispered.

Adrien smiled and bit his lip as he slowly closed the gap between them.  Even though they had kissed hundreds of times throughout their relationship, Marinette still experienced an explosion of warmth and happiness when their lips met.  She may be twenty-five now, but every time Adrien showed her this kind of affection, she turned into the blushing schoolgirl she once was years ago.

“Do you know how much I love you?” he said, finally pulling away.

She lightly pressed his nose with her index finger.  “Not as much as I love you.”

They allowed their noses to touch as they stared into each other’s eyes and laughed.  Marinette started to lean in for another kiss when a small, gravelly voice interrupted.

“Excuse me, but what are Tikki and I supposed to do all day while you two are off galavanting with other people?” Plagg complained, zooming into view.

“For you, it’s not going to be any different than a day that Marinette and I spend together,” Adrien responded, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Plagg,” Marinette began, “you do realize that Adrien will be spending the day with Alya right?”

“So?” Plagg retorted.

“So...I thought you would be excited to spend the day with Trixx,” Marinette shrugged.

The Kwami’s eyes grew wide and he turned towards his holder.  “Wait...you mean to tell me that Wayzz and Tikki won’t be coming with us?”

“No, Plagg.  That’s the whole point.  It will be Alya and I together while Nino and Marinette do something else,” Adrien explained with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Tikki flew over and joined the conversation.  “Plagg, I know what you’re thinking, and you are expected to be on your best behavior.  We can’t have a repeat of last time.”

Marinette shot her Kwami a concerned look.  “What exactly do you mean by ‘last time’?”

The tiny red being glared at her counterpart.  “When Plagg and Trixx are alone together, they tend to get a little carried away.  Have you ever heard of a place called Pompeii?”

Adrien buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply.  “I know there’s a story there, but I really don’t want to know what happened.”

“Yes, same,” Marinette agreed, “Especially after the time you told us what happened to the lost city of Atlantis.”

The pair looked at each other and shuddered.

“It still gives me nightmares,” she whispered into Adrien’s ear.

“I know, Princess,” he said, lightly kissing the top of her head, “Me, too.”

“Jeez, you two are dramatic,” Plagg noted while rolling his eyes.

“Are we though?” Adrien asked, “When you and Tikki told us that one of our ‘yet to be unlocked’ powers was telepathic communication with our Kwamis, maybe you two should not have led with that specific memory.”

Plagg poked Adrien in the chest with his paw.  “It was meant to teach you a lesson.” 

His chosen crossed his arms.  “Never trust a floating, black cat who claims to have the ability to solve a rodent problem with magic?”

Marinette elbowed Adrien in the side, eliciting a soft “hey” from her boyfriend.

“They wanted us to learn that even when we have the best intentions, things can still go wrong,” Marinette stated plainly, “and my Miraculous Magic won’t always be there to clean up the mess.”

Adrien reached his arms around Marinette, pulling her back into his embrace.  “I know, but you and I can overcome any obstacle as long as we’re together.”

“If that’s the case, are you sure you want to spend a whole day apart, kitty?” she asked with a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I think we’ll manage,” he said, pulling her even closer, “Besides, it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah,” Plagg cackled, “especially considering we’ll be leaving behind Captain Buzzkill and Lord Limp Noodle for the day.”

Tikki flew over to her counterpart and swatted at his arm.  “Don’t talk about Wayzz that way!”

Plagg stuck out his tongue.  “You are proving my point, Captain Buzzkill.”

“You are irritating.  I think I prefer ‘Sugarcube’.”

“But you still love me...Sugarcube.”

The red Kwami softened her expression “And I always will, Stinky Sock.  However, that doesn’t change the fact that you and Trixx need to be careful.  I’m sure Marinette and Adrien would appreciate it if Paris was still in one piece by the end of the day.”

“Now that’s not fair.  We were young back then.  I’ve learned to control my powers...kind of...and I’m sure Trixx has, as well.  I only broke half of Paris when Ladybug and I fought Style Queen all those years ago.  I’d say that’s a big improvement.”

“I’m still not completely convinced.”

“Do you really think I’d do anything to mess up their day on purpose?”

“Need I remind you of the Great Molasses Flood in Boston?”

“Ah, yes...the Boston Molassacre,” Plagg stared fondly into the distance before snapping himself out of his reverie, “Okay, you got me, but that was one time...and it was hilarious.  People in the United States are still laughing about it today.”

“People DIED, Plagg!” Tikki retorted, “And what about the Great Emu War of 1932?”

“Don’t peg that one on me!  That was all Trixx, and Australia was still in one piece when it was over.”

“You definitely didn’t help when you encouraged her to make everyone believe that they saw millions of emus that weren’t there.”

“There were still a ton of emus that were actually there.”

“That’s not the point, Plagg!”

Marinette plucked her Kwami out of the air and cupped Tikki in her hands.  “How about we all promise to be on our best behavior on Saturday.  None of us will do anything reckless,” she turned to Plagg, “or destructive.  Agreed?”

The black Kwami groaned.  “Ugh!  Fine.”

Adrien poked him.  “And I will be making sure that he follows through on that promise.”

Marinette laughed.  “Thanks, kitty.  I’ll be sure to talk to Alya about Trixx; however, I’m pretty sure she can handle anything her Kwami throws at her.”

“Thanks, Bugaboo,” Adrien gave her a gentle squeeze.

“I know it will be a fun day...especially since you’ve got it all planned out!”

He scratched behind his neck and released a nervous chuckle. “That’s what I’m hoping for!”

***

Adrien awoke on Saturday morning in a panicked sweat.  He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair.  Today was quite possibly the most important day of his life.

“Good morning, lover boy!” Plagg teased with a cackle. 

The disgruntled blond buried his face in his hands.  “I can't do this, Plagg!”

“Don’t you dare feed me that nonsense!  You have been head over heels since the day you met the girl.  You are doing this, kid.”

“What if I forget what I'm going to say?  Marinette will think I'm weird.  She’s going to hate me and never want to be with me again.  She’ll quit working for my dad’s company and cut off all connections to me.  Then, I'll never see her again, and I'll be alone forever...FOREVER, PLAGG! Do you know how long forever is?”

“Look at me, Adrien.”  Plagg used his paw to lift his chosen’s head by the chin. “You seem to be forgetting what your little bug was like before she knew you were Chat Noir.  The girl could barely string two words together when she tried to have a conversation with you.  She loves you.  I don't think I've ever seen two people love each other more than you and Marinette in all my years of existence.  So, yes, to answer your question, I do know how long forever is.”

“But…”

Plagg cut him off.  “No!  No ’buts’.  I know how important this day is not only for you but for everyone involved.  I am going to do everything in my power to help you pull this off.”

Adrien took a deep breath.  “Thank you, Plagg.  I can always count on you.”

“Now, my first act of service for the day is to tell you to go take a shower.  You may still be a model and the future CEO of Gabriel, but you smell like a two-day-old cheeseburger that got left inside a hot car.”

“Well, I was kind of nervous last night.  I guess I did sweat a little.”

“A little!  Your perspiration created a new tributary to the Seine in your bed sheets.  Get clean, and go get your girl.”

Adrien laughed and shook his head.  He threw back his covers and walked into the bathroom.  After a half hour, he was showered, dressed, and ready to go.  He checked his pocket to make sure he had everything he needed.

“It’s there,” he thought to himself, “There’s no turning back now, Agreste.”

Adrien walked over to the mirror, fixed his hair one last time, and walked out the door.  As he stepped into the cold, damp November air, he felt the reality of the day hit him once again.  Remembering Plagg’s words, he shook off his apprehension and continued on his journey. 

Both couples agreed to meet at a cafe before splitting off into pairs for the rest of the day.  Upon entering, Adrien saw Nino, Alya, and Marinette happily chatting at a table near the window.

“About time you showed up, Sunshine!  I was starting to think that my date bailed on me!”  Alya said jokingly.

Adrien laughed nervously and offered her a tense smile.  “No, I’m here!  Sorry for making you worry.”

Marinette got up from her seat and walked over to her boyfriend.  She touched his cheek and gave him a worried look.

“What’s wrong, Minou?” she whispered into his ear.

He shook his head.  “Nothing.  Why would you think something is wrong?”

“Please don’t lie to me.  You’re acting strange...well, stranger than you usually do.”

“Bugaboo, I’m okay.  Really...I promise that I’m fine.  Maybe I’m a little tired.”

“Are you still up for today?  I can tell Nino and Alya that we need to go.  Then, we can go to your place and cuddle for the rest of the day.”

Adrien could feel his confidence growing.  He bit his lip and shot her his signature “Chat Noir” grin.

“As tempting as that sounds, Princess, we already have plans for today, and I would hate to let down our friends.  However, maybe we could move those cuddling plans to later.  It sounds like a paw-some way to spend our evening together,” he purred into her ear.

She giggled and gave him a small peck on the lips.  “There’s my flirty kitty.”

“Hey!” Alya called over to them, “Excuse me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but I believe Mr. Model is my date for the day.  You can have him back when I’m done.”

Marinette turned to her best friend, scrunched her nose, stuck out her tongue.

“Oh, very mature,” Alya said rolling her eyes.

Adrien took Marinette by the hand and led her back to the table.  He pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit down before taking his seat.  He then grabbed her hand under the table and gently stroked her knuckles with his thumb.

“I expect to get the same kind of chivalrous treatment today, Agreste,” Alya said with a light chuckle.

“Am I not good enough for you?” Nino retorted, feigning hurt.

 “You are perfect for me,” Alya responded, “However, it’s not every day I get to spend time with a living breathing protagonist of a romance.  He’s like dessert.  It’s nice to have every once in a while, but not all the time.”

Marinette laughed and poked Adrien with her elbow.  “I guess it’s a good thing I have a sweet tooth then!  I’m always up for dessert.”

Adrien could feel his insides turning to mush.  He loved Marinette so much that it hurt.  She wasn’t just his world--she was the center of his universe.  Like a black hole, she was both beautiful and dangerous.  It was scary how easy it was to love her.  Nonetheless, he happily allowed himself to get caught in her gravitational pull.  She was an enigmatic force of nature, and he felt privileged to be a part of her life.

He leaned over and allowed their noses to touch.  From their point of contact, he felt a blossoming of warmth that created an involuntary smile on his face.  He sighed happily.

“Sometimes I forget how perfect you two are for each other, and then I see you do stuff like that,” Alya remarked.

“As much fun as all of this is to watch, don’t we have a schedule to keep?  If I’m correct, Marinette and I have an activity starting soon,” Nino said, giving his best friend a wide-eyed look.

 Adrien looked at the time on his phone.  “Oh jeez, yeah you do.  My first activity with Alya doesn’t start for another hour, but you two need to get going.”

Marinette stood up without letting go of her boyfriend’s hand.  He got up, as well, and pulled her into a loving embrace.

Adrien pulled away and brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face.  “Have fun today, Princess.  I will see you later when we all meet up for dinner.”

“You have fun, too, kitty.  I love you.”  She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you, too...so much,” he said, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

Behind them, Alya gave Nino a lingering kiss goodbye.  She whispered something into his ear and flicked his hat.  He responded with a laugh and kissed her again before moving next to Marinette.

“Are you ready?” he said with a cheerful expression.

“Yup!” Marinette responded, “Let’s get to it!”

Nino and “date for the day” waved to their significant others, turned towards the door, and walked out of the cafe.  Once the pair turned the corner, Adrien and Alya returned to the table.

“So, Agreste,” Alya smirked, “Nino told me that you already have everything planned.  What kind of fun are we going to have today?”

Adrien breathed out deeply and gave Alya a serious look.  “I have to tell you something.  You have not been told the whole truth about the nature of today’s events.   Nino knows, but I had to keep you in the dark until now...for...reasons.”

Alya raised her right eyebrow.  “Oh?”

“Uhm...yes.  I’m sorry if you were expecting to have fun today, but you’re actually here because I need your help.”

“Okay...how about you tell me what’s going on, and we’ll start from there.”

Adrien pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket and put it on the table.  He opened it, revealing a white gold ring with three princess cut diamonds in the middle.

Alya’s eyes grew wide.  She gasped and her hands flew up to cover her mouth.

“How could you possibly think that this wasn’t going to be fun?!” she exclaimed, “This is going to be THE MOST FUN.”

——————————————————————————————

Thank you to everyone who has been reading and following my other stories.  You are all wonderful!  (A “Chat for a Day” update is coming soon.)

This idea had been rattling around my brain for a while, and I had to write it down. 

Also, thank you to those who have left comments and asks on my other works.  They make my heart feel full, and it fuels my passion to keep writing!  (That and I love talking with all of you!)

——————————————————————————————

Next—>

AO3

Fanfiction.net

[allisondraste]

Temperance (29/?)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary:    Nathaniel loses his cool.

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

[AO3 LINK]

Denerim, 9:31 Dragon

“Thank you for coming to meet with me again,” Anora said politely as Nathaniel entered her study, and used every ounce of his willpower to hide his annoyance at her unfortunate timing.

“It is my pleasure, your majesty,” he stated, forcing a smile and closing the door behind him.

So close.  He’d been so close to finally saying everything he’d wanted to say to Liss for the past—what was it now? Seventeen years?— to explaining to her why he hadn’t written, to apologizing for having his head up his own arse.  He had no idea how she’d take it all, but that moment in the market, when she’d looked at him as she had the night before he left Highever that last time, gave him hope. It also gave him every reason to resent that he was standing in the queen’s office rather than Liss’ quarters.  

“You need not flatter me, Nathaniel,”Anora answered with a smirk, motioning for him to sit.  He had forgotten that he’d even flattered her.

He sat down in the chair across from her desk and crossed his arms.  “What is it that you need, your majesty?”

Anora bit her lip and exhaled an uncharacteristically shaky breath. “I am certain you are aware of the upheaval the Grey Wardens’ actions in Amaranthine have caused.”

“Better than most, I’m sure.”

“More specifically, the discontent with the current arlessa,” she explained, “There is… concern that she is acting out of her own interests.”

Nathaniel laughed irreverently. “Lucia? With all due respect, your majesty, if setting herself on fire could have saved Amaranthine, she would have done so long before she torched the city.”

“I am familiar enough with the Warden-Commander to know this; however, my council is… unconvinced.  The people of Amaranthine are unconvinced.”

“I figured as much,” he sighed, “Let me guess: They are all very concerned about my presence as well.”

“Hardly, although Eamon insists on playing that card,” she remarked with a bitter laugh, “Arl Bryland has suggested that the arling be returned to your family.”

Nathaniel blinked a few times as if it would help him to hear the words better.  “What? ” He laughed. “I find that incredibly difficult to believe.  My uncle has no love for my family.”

“Perhaps not,” Anora admitted,”And that is not why he made the suggestion.”

“Then why?”

“Despite the fallacy of the claims, there are many in Ferelden who still believe that the Wardens are responsible for the losses at Ostagar.  Even those who don’t are concerned with the growing political power of a formerly exiled Order, one that claims to be without political affiliation.  It is causing a level of unrest with which I am uncomfortable.”

Nathaniel leaned forward.  “I see your point, but… I am a Warden.  Transferring the arling to me would not make a difference.”

“That is why I intend to give it to Delilah,” Anora said with a knowing smile, “What do you think?”

A weight fell from his shoulders and his chest swelled.  It made so much sense. Delilah was brilliant and responsible.  As far as he knew, she managed affairs in Amaranthine to the best of her ability while  father played his games. Not to mention it would put the necessary distance between the Wardens and any sort of political authority. “I think that it is a brilliant idea.”

“It is my hope that her taking the title of Arlessa will settle the voices of dissenters, and I am certain she will be sympathetic to the Warden cause, allowing them—you—to maintain a stronghold at Vigil’s Keep.”

Nathaniel nodded, but remembered his sister’s flight from Ferelden with her merchant husband and the baby she carried, and frowned. It seemed cruel and unfair to ask her to leave the quiet life she now had, a life that was desirable to petty Fereldan politics.  Yet, there were no other viable options. Tom was, for all intents and purposes, deceased, and Nathaniel had gotten himself conscripted into the very order that the nobility mistrusted. Once again, Delilah’s peace and happiness would be sacrificed because he failed to be the big brother she deserved.

“You appear concerned,” Anora remarked matter-of-factly, snapping him from his ruminations.

He laughed, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Delilah is going to hate this.  She was finally happy.”

“I know.  I am sorry.” She paused and sighed.  “Do you think she will still accept, if asked.”

“Without question.” He nodded his head affirmatively.

“Good.  I shall send word to her as soon as I can.”  She flashed a brief smile that held only sympathy for the decision she had to make. “Thank you, Nathaniel.  That will be all.”

“Yes, your majesty,” he answered quickly, standing and bowing his head before exiting the room.  

Just stepping outside the study, hearing the door click behind him as the hallway extended in front of him, his pulse jumped.  Nothing stood in the way of his confession to Liss now, and nothing excused him from it. He had never been more ready for anything in his life, and yet he felt completely unprepared. He knew he should just do it, but convinced himself that it would help him to read his letter he wrote to her one last time, as if he could forget what it said.  

Reaching into his pack, he pulled out the small envelope, removed the parchment, and unfolded it.  His heart sank at the first words on the page. “Dear Tom” was not his letter to Liss. Then where—

“Shit,” he muttered, and shoved the letter back in its envelope.  He turned down the corridor that led to the main hall, rather than continuing to the guest wing.  Taking both envelopes with him had been a horrible decision among a million other horrible decisions that now replayed themselves in his mind.

It had only been an hour or so since Nathaniel stood in the Market District with Liss, and it seemed a different place entirely.  It was much louder, busier, as people pushed past one another, bumping shoulders and grumbling. He wove his way through groups of chattering people, muttering “excuse me’s” and apologies, until he reached the wooden door to the smithy.  It was an odd trade for a former Antivan Crow, but the woman called Bria still seemed to be quite adept at blacksmithing. If earlier events were any indication, she knew Liss as well.

He pushed the door open quickly, a wave of heat smacking into his face, and warming the tip of his chilled nose.  At the forge, Bria stopped her work and looked up at him with an enormous smile filled with mischief.  

“Ah,” she exclaimed, “I knew you would be back.”

“You knew?

“Mhmm.” She walked away from the forge and moved behind the counter, bending down, and popping back up with a familiar envelope held loosely between her fingers. “I do not think this is the letter you want to send to your Thomas.”

Nathaniel’s face grew warm in such a way that he knew it was not from the forge. “You read it?”

“Of course not.” She turned the envelope so that he could see the front, lips turning up into a small smirk. “It is addressed to Lady Elissa. You were quite flustered when she walked in, yes?”

“I suppose I was,” he admitted, unable to hide the undoubtedly ridiculous smile that spread across his face. “That would explain why I gave you the wrong letter.”

He took Liss’ letter from Bria’s hand, tucking it firmly into his coat, and giving her the letter intended for Tom.  She snatched it playfully and eyed him with a perplexed expression, clicking her tongue.

“What,” he asked, frowning at her.

“It seems to me that you should be doing much more than writing her letters,” she said, with a wink, before bending down to place Tom’s letter under the counter.

“Why would you think that?”

Bria chuckled knowingly and raised back up, leaning forward so that her elbows were on the countertop. “You love her.  It is written all over your pretty face.”

“You are perceptive.”

“In my profession, being perceptive is imperative.”

“Blacksmithing?”  Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow up at her and smirked.

“Blacksmithing,” she replied with a nod and another mischievous smile.

There was a brief moment of silence between them and he cleared his throat to speak.  “I should… head back to the castle.”

“You should.” Bria grinned broadly, eyes glimmering with amusement.

He nodded, ignoring the heat that still lingered in his face and the sinking pit in his stomach as he left the shop and made his way to the castle.  

Nathaniel returned to the guest wing, pausing briefly to pull the letter from his coat and read his own words again, a reminder of all that he wanted to say.  It did nothing to ease his anxiety, of course, and he knew there was only one solution. She was just down the hall, in her quarters, and no doubt tired of waiting for him.  It would be as quick as knocking on her door and as painless as swallowing his pride.  

The door to her quarters looked just as the doors to any of the other rooms, just as his own guest room.  There was nothing special about the door, other than who lay beyond it. He laughed at the thought of all the times she’d shown up at his door during their childhood.  How she’d seemingly given no second thought to rapping out a rhythm with her knuckles. If only he were so uninhibited.

Willing his hand to the smooth, wooden surface, he knocked three times.  There was no answer, but the door moved under his touch. It had not even been closed all the way.  He pushed it open hesitantly. “Liss?”

Liss didn’t answer, but he caught a glimpse of her as he peered past the door and into the room.  She lay face down on the bed, a mass of blond curls springing up from the pillow. He entered the room completely and approached her, noticing how her body rose and fell with each slow breath.  Her head was turned to the side, so that her face was visible past a lock or two of hair. Her lips twitched as well as did her hand that lay on the pillow next to her face. The sheets and coverlet were a bundled mess around her, undoubtedly failing at their function of keeping her warm.

Nathaniel bent down and took hold of the covers, straightening them out, and pulling them up to cover Liss’ nearly-bare arms.  As he did so, something on her shoulder caught his eye. In a spot where her hair had conveniently parted , just near the curve of her neck was a long, deep mark, a scar left by a sword or an axe.  No matter how he tried to avoid the image of her wounded, bleeding, stumbling about to escape her own home, he couldn’t. He ached at the thought of how alone she must have felt in that moment, how afraid.  If only he had been there.

Liss roused slightly and rolled beneath the blankets.  Her eyes flickered open, barely, and she looked up at him. “Nate?”  Her voice was hoarse, heavy with sleep.  

“It’s me,” he whispered, reaching out to brush one of her wild curls from her face, “Go back to sleep.  We can talk later.”

She smiled, groggily, eyes fluttering shut as she brought her hand up to cover his. A soft chuckle escaped him and he allowed his hand to linger on her cheek for a moment before pulling away.  If he’d ever been uncertain of his feelings for her, that small exchange would have him convinced. Maker, he was hopeless.  

He turned to exit the room, pulling the door closed as gently as he could so as to not wake her again.   It was only early evening, and a large part of him wanted her to be awake. It was an impatient thought, a selfish one, and he refused to give in to it.  The woman hadn’t slept much at all the night before, and he would not disturb her.

Nathaniel walked back down the hall, passing his own room, and heading toward Lucia’s.  He had not spoken with the Warden-Commander since the night before, and she’d been rather upset.  He worried for her, and thought to check in. It would pass the time and give him a chance to break the news to her about Amaranthine if she did not already know.

When he reached Lucia’s room,  he stopped at the door and knocked.  There were noises of someone fumbling about on the other side, and then the door swung open.  

“Nathaniel,” she said, eyes widening as if startled to see him.

“Busy?”

“No.” She shook her head and opened the door further. “Come in.”

He entered the room and waited for Lucia to close the door and return.  She sat down gently in a sturdy wooden chair by the fireplace, and motioned for him to sit in one of the other available chairs near her. He did so, watching as she fidgeted in her seat uncharacteristically.

“Have you spoken with Queen Anora, yet,” she asked.

“I have.  I had wondered if you knew about her plans for my sister.”

“I do,” she said, blinking  as she gazed into the fire, “To be quite honest, I am relieved.  This is far beyond what I signed up for when I joined the Wardens.”

“And what exactly did you sign up for?”

“Freedom,” Lucia remarked, bringing her sharp eyes to meet his, “I was conscripted after I attempted to escape Kinloch Hold with a friend of mine and his lover.  We were caught, and in his desperation he used blood magic to flee. The Templars wanted to make me Tranquil or execute me for ‘conspiring with a blood mage.’ I would be dead—or worse— if it were not for the Grey Wardens.”

“I had… no idea.”

“I don’t talk about it much.  Those are not my favorite memories,” she explained, “Needless to say, I am more than happy to give up my title to your sister.  From what I know of her, she will be a far better arlessa than I could ever hope to be.”

Nathaniel offered her a smile, and nodded, unable to find any words that felt appropriate for the circumstances.  Lucia appeared to accept the gesture, and turned her eyes back to the dancing flames under the mantle. After several moments of silence passed between them, he brought himself to speak again. “I actually came to see how you are today.  I know that you were rather upset when we spoke last night.”

Lucia heaved a heavy sigh and the hint of a smile curved at the edges of her mouth.  “I’m all right, I suppose.”

“Better than last night?”

“Definitely.” She nodded. “I took some time to think about what you and I discussed.  I gave myself permission to be angry, and then the anger dissipated.”

“Sometimes that is all it takes.”

“I am still hurt, of course. I think I will be hurt for a long time,” she explained, wringing her hands in her lap, “That does nothing to change my feelings for Alistair. We’ve never been perfect, but we’ve survived so much together.  Certainly we can solve this as well.”

“What are Alistair’s feelings on the matter,” Nathaniel asked, hoping his question was not too intrusive.

To his relief, she did not seem offended, and turned to look at him again as she answered.  “He thinks we need to talk more about what happened between us, to process it all. I’d rather not have to.”  She laughed dryly. “He’s probably right, isn’t he?”

Nathaniel laughed in return.  “Unfortunately, I believe he is.”

As their conversation died down, a tense silence stretchedl between them, and he watched as Lucia returned to fidgeting uncomfortably in her chair.  Her brow furrowed deeper and deeper and she trained her eyes so intently on the grey stone floor before them, that he began to wonder if she was attempting to count the bricks.  He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it promptly as Lucia looked up at him again.

“I spoke with Elissa,” she stated quickly, as if she could not get the words past her lips fast enough.

He flinched.  ‘You...did?”

“Yes.  I was curious to meet her, to see what she is like.” She paused and eyed him knowingly.  “She is very beautiful, isn’t she?”

Nathaniel froze, unable to utter anything more than an “Um,” past the lump in his throat.  

“It is a fact, Nathaniel,” Lucia said, offering him a smirk before she rose to her feet and began to pace about, “Just as it is a fact that she is intelligent, strong, and compassionate.”

“I certainly think so,” he managed to say, observing her as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“I can see why you care for her,” she admitted, “I can see why Alistair does.”

“Lucia, is there any reason why you’re telling me all of this?”  The words sounded more irritated than he intended them to.

She snapped her head back to look at him, then slowly turned her gaze back to the fire before falling back into the chair where she’d previously been sitting.  She sat in silence for several moments before closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, and speaking. “She asked to join the Wardens.”

“ What, ” he asked, certain that there was no way he heard her properly.

“I know,” Lucia stated somberly, “I was surprised myself.  She is certainly capable, but it makes no sense to me why someone of her status would want to join us.

“Typical Liss, honestly,” he laughed briefly, “How did she take it when you told her no?”

“I…”

“Please tell me you told her no.” Nathaniel’s heart fell to his stomach at the hesitation.

“I cautioned her against it, but she seems very determined.”  Lucia’s voice trembled as she spoke, and Nathaniel almost felt bad for the anger that bubbled in his chest at her words.  “We only have seven wardens in Ferelden. It would be foolish to refuse a willing recruit.”

“I understand,  I do,” he said as calmly as he could, though his own shaky words betrayed him, “Recruit anyone else in this whole blighted country, but not her.  Please. I am asking you, as your friend, to tell her no.”

Lucia stiffened, straightening her posture before she spoke again, poised as ever. “And I am telling you, as your commanding officer, that I can’t do that.  I am sorry, but —”

“Of course you are, commander ,” he interrupted her with pointed words, “But you will have to forgive me if I don’t accept it.  It certainly does not change my objection to this decision of yours.”

Lucia just watched him intently, expression unchanging. “I do not need your approval.”

“Then why bother telling me,” he asked desperately.

“Because I respect you, and I thought you deserved to know,” she stated, voice more forceful, “I thought you would understand my reasoning.”

“Logic and reason don’t make a decision right,” Nathaniel snapped, “You always argue rationality, and then wear your apologies like they are a suit of armor against the consequences of those decisions.  Tell me, if any of those justifications were truly justifications, if your apologies helped anything, then would you still hate yourself so much?”

He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.  He regretted them even more at the sight of utter betrayal on the young woman’s face.  She was doing her best. She was doing what she thought was right. She had relied on his support, and now he’d turned on her completely.  And why? Because he was angry? Scared? Pathetic.

“You have supported every one of my decisions until now,” she bit back, clearly struggling to keep the tears from her eyes.  

“I have, but that does not mean I will support everything you do unflinchingly,” he argued, “I understand why you would believe recruiting Liss is a good decision.  It is a good decision, objectively, but my feelings aren’t objective. If she fails the Joining, that blood will be on you and your hands alone.”

He clearly intended to burn ever bridge he’d built between he and Lucia to the ground in a matter of minutes.  He was too furious to care, too terrified to think of anyone but himself.

“Nathaniel, I—“

He waved his hand dismissively and stood up.  “You know what? Forget it. I know you won’t change your mind.”

Lucia’s face hardened, settling into an icy, neutral expression.  “Very well.”

There was a heavy, painful silence until Nathaniel spoke again.  “By your leave, Commander.”

She nodded slowly, and he turned abruptly and stomped out the door.  

In the hallway, Alistair approached Lucia’s quarters.  He hummed some Chantry hymn and twirled a rose between his fingers.  He looked up just in time to see Nathaniel storm out. Waving genially, he said, “Oh, hi Nathaniel.”

“Go soak your head,” Nathaniel grumbled as he brushed past Alistair without so much as making eye contact. It was not his best moment.

As he continued on down the hall, he heard the other man whine sarcastically, “But that would mess up my hair.”

Under normal circumstances, Nathaniel would have laughed, replied with a good natured barb, and apologized for being rude.  These were not normal circumstances, and so continued on without so much as a word. He had already said enough.

[bipabrena]

Rodorah/Mothzilla AO3 fic

Sequel to this. You can read this as a stand-alone, but I suggest you read the prequel so you’re not too confused.

Half-arsed summary: so, in the prequel, a lot happened during the fight that challenged San’s perspective, and conflict brewed in him. He thought he wasn’t too different from Mothra and Godzilla. Ichi was forced to decapitate San after he stopped he and Ni from killing Mothra three times, and he begged the two to listen to him. In this fic, Ichi and Ni panic when San isn’t regenerating no matter how hard they try. Ichi and Ni’s emotional states are explored, while Rodan laments what happened in the previous fight to Mothra and Godzilla, even though his devotion to Ghidorah borders on fanaticism.

When San musters the courage to regenerate, Ichi and Ni are overcome with emotion, but they are soon forced to confront San’s actions in Boston. The change in him is overwhelming, one Ichi and Ni can’t understand.

X

Ni knew it.

He just knew it.

Ichi had always been incredibly perceptive, and his senses were far superior to San’s and his own, but Ni had always had a talent for intuition. For things one couldn’t physically perceive. Things for which he’d normally have no evidence for, but he still had no doubts would happen, in one way or another.

This was the final proof.

He just knew this would happen.

He clenched his jaw so tightly he felt his teeth would shatter. Wrinkles formed around his brow as his frown deepened, and his worried, unblinking eyes wouldn’t leave Ichi.

Ichi’s eyes were closed in a pronounced frown.

He was attempting to concentrate and remain calm as best he could, but he was clearly growing alarmed.

After several minutes, Ichi opened his eyes.

“… Well?” Ni asked.

Ichi stared ahead, at nothing in particular, really.

He seemed neutral, like he wasn’t thinking or feeling anything in particular, really. But if Ni concentrated, he’d see it.

And he did see it.

Behind the façade, Ichi looked like he’d made a terrible realisation, and it was slowly sinking in.

His unblinking eyes darted to Ni.

Ni looked worried. Alarmed.

It was an expression Ichi had never seen in him, and the guilt it made him feel burned his insides.

“I can’t do it,” he said.

Ni had no visible reaction. He didn’t say anything either.

So, Ichi looked ahead again.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when the shadow of a silhouette entered his field of vision. He turned his head slightly.

He found Ni’s impossibly widened, dark and cold eyes looming over him.

It was a frightening expression that forced him to hold his breath.

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Ni asked coldly.

“What do you mean you can’t do it, Ichi?” he reiterated. “Stop fooling around,” his voice grew more belligerent.

Ichi’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He was taken aback when a pronounced scowl overcame Ni with a deep growl.

“Stop fooling around and regenerate!” he demanded.

“I…” Ichi frowned further as the realisation fully sank in. “I can’t. I don’t know why, I just… I—“

Ichi’s eyes twitched when Ni head-butt him and pressed their foreheads together.

“What do you mean you can’t!? You have to do it, Ichi! You have to bring San back!”

Ichi’s mouth opened in a frown. He had no idea what to say.

“You have to bring our little brother back!” Ni shouted, growing less aggressive and more pleading.

“Tch!” Ichi scowled, “I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough!” Ni growled. “Bring him back!”

Ichi felt like their heart was about to burst.

That’s when he perked up. He looked to the side, and Ni’s instinctive reaction was to understand Ichi had sensed something.

They grew quiet as they heard wings a minute or so later, and Rodan landed before them.

He bowed.

“Your Highness,” he greeted.

Now aware that King Ghidorah liked to keep things short and to-the-point, Rodan didn’t await a response.

“The MUTO has emitted the call. She and Scylla have found an egg in what is supposedly called the Yunnan province. It’s most likely Mothra’s.”

When Ghidorah had no visible reaction, Rodan grew a little nervous.

Especially when he realised the left head hadn’t grown back yet.

“… We didn’t want to do anything without your permission,” Rodan continued. “I can go there myself and destroy the egg before it hatches, or would you prefer to allow her to hatch so she can serve you?”

The anguish plaguing Rodan’s insides worsened by the silent second. Was it because he was aware he’d broken his orders, and silently feared for punishment?

He shivered for a short moment, both because of his lack of familiarity with this freezing weather as because of fear.

“I don’t care,” Ichi said firmly. “We already told you that you’re free to do as you please.”

Rodan’s eyes wavered.

That was true, but… he didn’t want to do anything without his permission. Surely Ghidorah would—

“Rodan,” he said, and Rodan immediately looked at him with wide eyes.

The way his name left the King’s mouth—the way his tongue tipped both syllables against his palate, the firmness and imperialness in his voice.

Rodan could feel his heart thumping.

It was the first time King Ghidorah had ever uttered his name, and it was regal.

“We were clear in telling you you’re free to do as you please for now,” he reiterated.

Ni was entirely silent, as it was evidently Ichi who represented the two.

“Do not come to us unless called. I shall not repeat myself. You will not get another chance. Understand?”

Even though his life was being threatened, Rodan could do nothing but stare in awe.

This magnificent creature, this creature that held unrivalled power, asserted his warnings without violence or anger. He was clearly firm, he was clearly no non-sense, but never unnecessarily belligerent or violent.

Not only was Rodan being allowed to do as he pleased, he was not being punished for breaking his first order.

“Do what you want. Don’t come to us unless we call you.”

His greatness was second to none.

“Yes, sire,” he responded.

He was going to fly away, to relish to himself over his awe-inducing experience; until he saw the right head’s expression.

Clearly worried.

Clearly desperate.

The right head hadn’t heard a single word the leader had said.

It took little to no time for Rodan to understand why.

Was his King hurting?

The possibility alone that this was the case tore something inside Rodan. A stinging feeling similar to the lacerations inflicted by the late Queen, except that this time it ran further, it hurt deeper.

Was it because the left head hadn’t regenerated?

Was there something, anything Rodan could do?

He opened his mouth to say something, but it was forced shut the moment he took a look at the leader.

When he heard his rattling tail, Rodan understood.

His ideals were resolute and inflexible; his devotion bordered on fanaticism, but Rodan still held the instinctive, primal feeling of self-preservation.

He would not risk his life thoughtlessly.

He bowed again, and quickly took to the skies.

The moment Rodan was out of sight, the bravado completely vanished for Ichi.

He felt it at once; the overwhelming pain. It felt as though he were underwater, being dragged down by an impossibly heavy anvil.

The grief was so immense, Ichi felt his heart would burst.

It wasn’t only because of his own pain.

The brothers shared a body; every organ, every vein, every pint of blood.

Their heart.

Their bond was undeniable, resolute and unbreakable; one brother’s grief was the other two’s.

Ni’s grief was his own, and so it added to his own.

The guilt ate Ichi from the inside.

He didn’t know what to say.

“… I’m tired,” is all Ni said after much, lingering silence.

Ichi nodded silently. With a sharp inhale, Ni shifted and sought something that had been carefully placed behind the mountain; something that had been treated with tenderness and care, as though the slightest move would disintegrate it.

He gently, tenderly dragged San’s severed head.

He coiled around the snowy head; nuzzled it, cuddled it. He tried to give the insentient head warmth.

After killing Mothra and Godzilla, after the first regeneration attempt failed, Ni had been a quick thinker. He wasted no time to voice Ichi his suggestion, and Ichi wasted no time to accept it.

These cold, sub-zero temperatures had stopped the decomposition process altogether.

Ni closed his eyes with a distressed, pronounced frown as he cuddled San’s severed head.

Ichi’s lids dropped sadly as he observed Ni dose off.

“Brothers, please, just listen to me for a moment!”

“If I had stopped…” he mumbled to himself, “then the three of us would’ve died…”

No, is what he immediately thought to himself.

Mothra and Godzilla had been as shocked as he and Ni had. They were also incredibly weakened. Mothra’s attacks would’ve had no effect, and Godzilla couldn’t even stand.

Now I’m just making excuses, he smiled sadly to himself.

He shook off his undeniable exhaustion after several days of no sleep, and closed his eyes to start again.

Ichi attempted to concentrate as best as he could.

His cells worked hard. They used signalled pathways to speak amongst each other; they operated as a giant symphony, spreading all across the bloodstream to interact and function as an entire system.

He felt the familiar, ticklish sensation in his nether regions, but nothing happened.

He ignored the sickening throbbing inside his head, the throbbing that was a clear warning he was overexerting himself.

The blood trickling down his nose was ignored as well.

Until it happened.

As a primal, self-defence mechanism, his brain shut down.

The copious blood supply Ichi sent to the inner core of bone to begin the process of rebuilding the missing spine left his brain with little to no blood and oxygen.

As a defence-mechanism, his brain grabbed whatever blood and oxygen it could at the expense of Ichi’s bodily functions.

He completely passed out. The mountain vibrated, and piles of snow fell below when his head hit the rocks with a grating thud.

Read the rest on AO3 here.