#Absence makes the heart grow fonder and these two would fight to the death for each other :'))))

[marsobars]

Happy Birthday to Maxwell Car- FUCK THAT GUY Happy Birthday to JACK CARTER CAUSE HE DESERVES RECOGNITION TOO 💖🎂 Post-Constant Carter Family happiness is so fucking important to me they might not have much but they have each other 😫😫

-transparent version under the cut-

[jasmineoolongtea]

― in between ⋆⭒˚.⋆

― the ways in which they act around you when you're in that in-between stage ༘ ⋆｡˚

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuuta x gn!reader, headcannons/drabbles, fluff a/n: heavily based on in between by gracie abrams. if she releases it in the secret of us deluxe edition, i might just explode with happiness. btw thank you sm for blowing up my last post, literally insane of you guys and a big kiss to all of you. also genuine question for you guys, do you prefer the layout i have for my headcanons, drabbles or longer fics? i'm trying to see which one you guys prefer

gojo satoru never lets his phone ring for more than a couple seconds when it comes to you. doesn't matter where, when or what it could be about, the second he hears your personalised ringtone or sees your name flash across the top of his screen, he's scrambling to try and answer it as fast he possibly can. he could be in the middle of fighting a curse, deep within the throws of battle with a laser focus on the target in front of him and it all goes out the window the moment you call his phone.

you'll never know about it though. for some reason, satoru keeps this fact to himself like it's the biggest secret in the world. he'll always pick up the phone with a carefree lilt to his voice, sometimes even choosing to tease you for calling him when you could have just texted instead. quietly inside, he thanks the universe for giving him the opportunity to hear your voice again.

"gojo," god, he loves the way you say his name, maybe one day he'll manage to get you to call him satoru. "are you sure you're at home right now?" there's a tinge of concern that permeates your voice and he swears his heart beats twice as fast just thinking about the fact that you might be worried about his well being.

"of course! why'd you ask? don't tell me this is your way of asking to come over right now?" you sigh at his antics and he laughs it off, it's like a routine you two do. he keeps jokingly throwing out these more than friendly offers to your constant dismissal but secretly, he hopes one day that he can stop pretending like they're just that.

there's a loud crash coming from his side of the call which only serves your suspicions as you quip back. "no, gojo. i'm asking because i'm hearing noises like you're beating someone up." he curses faintly under his breath at the curse who's off groaning in pain in the distance after being punted into a wall with a flick of his wrist.

you pause for a second as your voice softens "is this a good time to call because if not i can just-"

"no, no." he cuts you off, "i've got all the time in the world for you."

geto suguru hates it when you cry and hates it even more when you're away. he never thought it would be possible to hear a heart shatter in front of him but that's what he hears every time you shed a tear. you're the definition of angelic as crystalline tears stream down your face and his heart swells with warmth when you allow him to comfort you in his arms.

silently, he pledges to burn down whatever has brought you so much grief and pain as a newfound sense of anger courses through his veins. but before he can do anything, you turn to him with watery eyes and a quivering lip as you ask him to do the unthinkable.

"stay." you plead quietly.

"okay." he responds, a soft, comforting smile gracing his expression. he'll never say it out loud but he knows that it's a request, just like many others, he'll accept a thousand times over if it means he gets to stay close to you, even if it's nothing more than this.

if he thought it was painful to see you cry, then being away from you was possibly a fate worse than death. whenever he has to bear the misfortune of being separated from you, there's a part of him that you've taken away with you and is only reunited when you return to him. absence is said to make the heart grow fonder but he's pretty sure it's humanly impossible for his to do that as you're already the one it beats for. even across the distance of a phone call, it's still not enough for him to hear but not see you as it simply makes him crave your presence next even more.

he's rarely ever let anyone in like this before but the day you see him exhausted, dishevelled and broken and still choose to remain at his side, despite his protests, is the day he's sure that you're the only thing he'll ever want for the rest of his life. you claim it's under the guise of being friendly yet even satoru hasn't seen him like this. you might not know it but he does.

he doesn't say much, instead choosing to bask in this moment of mutual comfort and closeness as even at each other's worst, you both know that you'll still be okay.

nanami kento says that he's new at this when you toe that delicate line between the two of you. you're new to this too. he's scared and you're scared, however, the fear is not enough to stop this. when does the line of being just friends end and the line of calling each other lover start? or is there a secret in-between stage that the two of you are stuck in like right now, where the other waits with bated breath to see if someone takes the risk to make the first move?

you've been friends for as long as you can remember running into each other that one fateful day within the rectangular walls of jujutsu tech. however, there's always been a whisper of something else there as well. it's been something the two of you have danced around with lingering glances and silent, 'accidental' touches in public spaces. the two of you have seen each other through the growing pains of adolescence, nights of broken hearts and awkward first dates and now with an added layer of professionalism as recent coworkers.

when it was nanami who was the one who rescued you from those times when you were left cold and alone in a random restaurant somewhere, you know that you've had enough of waiting on somebody who doesn't care about you. as he places his hand on your shoulder, ushering you into his car with his jacket dropped across your figure with the utmost care, he knows that you deserve so much more than whatever this world can offer and he can only dream of being the one to give this to you.

between you and him, there's an invisible wall of all the labels you have each barricade the other behind in an attempt to hide under a sense of familiarity but now in this moment, you want nothing more than to tear it all down with your bare hands. he reaches out to you, threading his fingers through his and in one swift move, he's done the impossible and has crossed over the holy ground that lies beneath you.

"do you think this is a good idea?" you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"positive." he responds, more resolute in his answer than in anything he has been in his life, and you swear sparks fly when you kiss.

fushiguro megumi loves your eyes and your smile and you love how he talks late at night when there's no one there. it's like a silent agreement between you two, one that you always honour. whenever one of you guys can't sleep, you will go to each other's dorm rooms and knock twice and you guys will stay up and talk until either the sun comes up or you both fall asleep.

it doesn't take a genius to say that megumi is a guarded person, with his walls so high you might even lose sight of him behind them, so it only makes it even more precious when you're able to see him like this in the dim light of the moonlight pouring in through the window. his skin is illuminated by the glow and the way he sounds when he's speaking with his soul bared open in its entirety makes you want to forever immortalise this moment in your memories. you think about all the people who have missed out on experiencing him like this with how his eyes sparkle with passion and how he breaks out into a grin at the slightest joke, leading you to mourn silently for their loss. however, you think of how vulnerable he lets himself become around you, knowing that you'll stay here with him no matter what, and the sweet nothings you hear him whisper to you when he thinks that you've fallen asleep and you realise this a secret you'll want to keep just between these walls.

on the rare occasion that megumi loses his battle to sleep first, he'll silently reach out for your hand and pull you closer to him. you're not sure if he's doing this consciously or unconsciously but you chose not to comment on the growing red glow of his ears as you sink into his touch.

usually, however, what happens is that you fall asleep first as you make your way onto the pillowy fortress that is either of your guys' beds. as you begin to drift off, he's always there watching over you like your very own moody guardian angel. this is the most he'll let himself indulge in your closeness, for now, as he takes comfort in the familiarity of this in-between stage.

itadori yuji tells you that you're beautiful, funny and smart like nothing he's ever seen. he swears on everything he loves in this world, a list that includes you but you don't need to know that yet. you brush off his compliments with practised ease as you try to fight the burning sensation that is spreading across your face. deep down, you can feel your heart fluttering at his compliments but then you think about how you shouldn't be feeling this way about someone who's your friend.

"itadori, you're exaggerating," you say, shoving his shoulder playfully. he pretends to feign hurt, rubbing the impacted area with a slight pout. adorable, you think to yourself before bringing yourself back into the present moment.

"no, it's true really! if you don't believe me, i'll just keep saying it over and over again." he asserts, ever so confident in his stance. it's all true to him, just like how the sky is blue and the grass is green. he'll be the first one to say how pretty, amazing and talented you are in a room full of your biggest supporters and he'll be the first one to say it again when there's no one else.

you roll your eyes half-heartedly at him, trying your best to act nonchalant despite wondering if he might ever feel more for you than your current state of friendship. "you don't say that to your friends. what about nobara, you don't say this to her, do you?"

"yeah, but she isn't you," he responds back. you don't answer him, choosing instead to point out an ice cream stand in the far distance and he lets you tug him along with you. it's okay, he knows that you're scared of whatever lies ahead for you two. he understands that you're worried that he might like you in that way, although he thinks that it's a bit stupid you're still so unsure about it when he wears his heart on his sleeve whenever it comes to you. whatever is it, he'll be happy to go along at your pace, just as long as it means he gets to be by your side like this.

okkotsu yuuta is so good to you and it makes you want it more than everything in between. is it greedy to say that you want more than whatever you two have right now? the longing stares, the lingering touches and the way your faces light up when you spot each other in a crowded room. sure, those were all fine for a bit but how long were you able to survive on just that when he was right there next to you as a constant reminder of the possibility of something more.

you never thought that you would be able to meet someone like him, someone who treats you as if you were the best thing to ever happen with so much care and love radiating from his very being. the way his hand brushes your cheeks when you get even the smallest cuts makes your heart feel like it's about to fall out of your chest with how he takes extra care to scan over your appearance for anything, pausing for a second on your lips. you think to yourself, he must be doing this on purpose, and you want to curse at him for playing with your heart but when he smiles at you with those half-moon eyes, you can feel all of that melting away and more.

the only person you can blame here for your current predicament is yourself really, you were the one who drew the line in the sand when the two of you first met. just friends, you said but in your defence, you had just learned about his history and how cold and empty his has been as well as how much you've been hurt in your own past, so you decided to do what was, at the time, what you thought was best for the both of you. only now, every day you spend with him makes him wish that you would one day wake up and finally take that jump.

yuuta also shares your sentiments, actually ever since he first saw you he knew that you were the one he wanted to live and breathe for, but he doesn't say anything for fear of scaring you off. he knows about your worries, your doubts and your fears and as much as he wants to tell you that you should throw caution into the wind and that he'll take that step for you, he also knows that he can't. so for now he'll do his best to quell your nerves with a gentle hand on the small of your back and a fleeting kiss on your cheek that you'll someday trust in yourself and him to fall headfirst into this new unknown territory, outside of this in between.

[vintagegirl01]

Plush Size

Marc Spector x fem! reader (Implied moon boys x fem! reader)

Summary: Missing the MK System, you decide to make a plush toy of Moon Knight for yourself, so that you have something to cuddle with when they are on missions for Khonshu. While this plush ends up being used for that particular reason, the moon boys are shocked to see that you are no longer as clingy to them as you once were. This leads them to become touch starved, resulting in them hiding the plush.

You miss them all very much. It has only been a day since they left but you miss Marc, Steven, and Jake very much.

Though they have been on missions longer than this most recent one they are currently on. Nevertheless, it’s true when they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

As you look through Pinterest to look at sewing machine projects that you want to do. You see some pins on how to make dolls. This sparks the idea to create a doll in the form of your boyfriends’ Moon Knight persona that you could use to cuddle when they are gone. With this newfound inspiration, you get to work.

_________________________________________

3 Days Later…

Marc is currently fronting as he enters the key to your shared apartment. Though this mission was shorter, the desire to get home to you was what kept him going.

When he locks the front door, Marc notices the silence within the house. No tv nor music playing in the background.

Imagining the worst case scenario, Marc grabs his gun from his travel bag and begins walking around the house in preparation to fight to the death for you. He hears both Steven and Jake from the headspace, trying to reassure him that you are safe and more likely to fall asleep. Though he appreciates the reassurance from them both, Marc’s mind can’t help but wander to think the worst.

As he finally approaches the door to your shared bedroom, Marc finds you asleep on your bed. Although, instead of snuggling into his side of the bed like you normally would when he was gone, Marc is shocked to see you snuggling up with a plushie that looks nearly identical to what he looks like when he wears Khonshu’s ceremonial armor as Moon Knight. Marc smiles to himself as he returns to his regular clothes, beginning to strip to nothing but his boxers and crawls into the bed to get well earned rest.

________________________________________

In the coming weeks, Marc notices how often you cuddle with the plush version of himself and is a bit restless to say the least. Though Marc is happy you have something to remind you of himself when he is away, the feeling isn’t there when he begins to notice that you sometimes even hug the mini him when you both are lounging around together in your room or living room.

Despite Marc always being a bit closed off at the start of your relationship, you helped him open up. Once feeling as if he had to wear the world on his shoulders, that feeling slowly faded away when he was around you.

No longer receiving those cuddles as often as he was once used to, Marc begins to devise a plan. One that will ensure he gets your attention.

________________________________________

As you finish showering and changing into your pajamas, you exit the restroom and enter the bedroom.

When you walk to the bed, you notice that your Moon Knight plushie is no longer laying on the side where you normally sleep. In shock, you look under the bed to make sure it isn’t there. Noting it isn’t there, you move your pillows to see if they aren’t under the bed.

“Marc”! Have you seen mini you?”, you ask.

Marc comes in and says he hasn’t but agrees to help you find him (unbeknownst to you that he hid it).

________________________________________

Thirty minutes of you two looking and not having any luck. Defeated, you lay on your bed a bit upset.

Marc gets into bed next to you and wraps his arms around you. He is a little shocked by the fact that you are upset about this.

Curious to understand why that is, he asks: “Why are you upset about losing the mini me”?

You answer.“Because it’s something to remind me of you when we aren’t together. Also, I figured it would be a good substitute for when you don’t want to cuddle me as I know I can be a bit too much sometimes.”

Everything begins to make sense to him. Marc goes to your closet to get something. When he comes back out, you see that he’s holding your missing plushie.

“I’m sorry I hid this from you”, he says ashamed. “I missed your cuddles and thought that mini me was taking away your attention from me. Despite what you may think, I love our cuddle sessions. It’s because of you, I feel safe enough to be vulnerable. Can you forgive me, baby?”

The moment Marc finishes, he is shocked to see you get up from the bed and grab the plushy from him. You put the plush on your bed and pull him in for a hug.

“You know you can ask me for cuddles whenever”, you say.

Marc looks at you with puppy eyes, “Can we cuddle now?”.

You take his hand and lead him both to your bed. Both of you get settled in with Marc laying his head on your chest as you run your fingers through his curls. Staying this way until sleeps takes over.

[ninlilwinds]

please many i request xiao and scaramouche with a reader who is like perona from one piece

Sorry this took so long! I'll give the same warning I gave my other anon: I haven't really watched one peice so this is mainly just from what I looked up her personality was! I hope you enjoy

Characters: Xiao, Scaramouche/Wanderer

He is very very very mature, and his duties involve neglecting whatever desires he has to protect the whole of Liyue. It is his duty.

You? You could care less about others. At first, Xiao hated this about you; it would get on his last nerves. How could you only think about yourself?

Your childlike and immature personality made him avoid you for a very long time. Any time that your voice bounced off the Wangshu Inn walls, he would retreat to the mountains

But, eventually, as he got to know you, he started understanding your reasons. Your upbringing and experiences played a part in it.

He noted you would dial down your personality a bit around him, you seemed a bit more…normal.

But, his hate would come right back when around others again. He didn’t understand. Why would you put on this act when everyone found it to be a negative personality?

The moment he fell for you was when you acted selflessly, for him. All the time he’s known you, he’s seen you only think of yourself, but at that moment, as you stood in front of the wounded Xiao, fighting off several monsters while he recollected himself and his spear, you were like a guardian angel

After that, you treated his wounds expertly.

Xiao didn’t know how or when, but next thing he knew, you were holding hands and kissing and going on dates. He was now fond of you and all your traits and grateful for how selfless you could be when it came down to life or death situations.

At times, he still found your personality a bit insufferable, but he still loved you very much

Two menaces to society. That’s what you are

You both immediately clicked when you met each other. He was selfish and wanted everything, and you were similar. You decided to use each other to help achieve your individual goals

But Scaramouche knew himself, so he knew if he did not betray you first, then you would take his moment of weakness and use it against him

But…what's this? Why do you look so shocked? Why are you shaking?

Scaramouche held a sword to your throat as you trembled in his grip. Were you trying to manipulate him? There was no way you were surprised, it was to be expected. You had something similar planned right?

That day, he let you go, and heard nothing from you for months

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

When he found you causing trouble in a hilichurl camp one day in his travels, he knew he had to get to you, so he cautiously stepped to you .

When he saw your look, his heart broke. He really had wronged you, and you really had no plans to betray him

He spent months making it up to you, doing your every whim and will. It was humiliating for him, but he’d do anything to win you back

And he did. In a way he didn’t think he would. When you suddenly pulled him in for a kiss, he couldn’t believe what was happening. He didn’t question what happened much, and simply accepted It was what you both wanted. So yes, you both were still selfish in the way of getting what you want, but there was nothing you wouldn't do for each other

[averagebreadslice]

16, 18, 26 :)

16) Has your muse ever been heartbroken in a romantic relationship before?

Cinalu's actually never had a romantic relationship before Trahearne. She's had small crushes before, but it never amounted to anything. However, she did break someone else's heart unintentionally. She had a childhood friend named Lodon who was very much into her, but she never registered his advances. Then when she joined the Mist War, they lost contact. Give it about twenty years and he wants to try and talk with her again now that he has a way to contact her (and she's not busy fighting elder dragons). You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. He sends a letter and she agrees to meet up with him, and not only has she changed quite a bit since he last saw her, but when he confesses about his teenage crush she tells him she's married. It's heartbreaking, but he's not upset with her. He does sometimes wonder what would've happened if he had just been open with her when they were kids.

Take some art from July of baby Cinalu with her two best friends :)

18) Does your muse find the idea of a secret admirer charming or off-putting?

She finds the idea extremely off putting. She doesn't like the idea of someone she might not even know anonymously leaving letters or even gifts for her. It makes her uncomfortable, because it's a circumstance she doesn't have the upper hand in. Being in a situation where she doesn't have all the information and doesn't know what to expect is a situation she doesn't want to be in.

26) How much stock does your muse put in first impressions? What is the best way to make a good first impression with your muse? 

She doesn't rely on first impressions to judge a person's intentions (whether good or bad). To specifically make a good first impressions to her though, she needs you to seem capable and reliable. If you can take charge of a situation and if you go out of your way to help others, you'll have a high chance of leaving a good impression on her. It's one of the reasons she grew to like Trahearne. During Claw(r) Island, he was more capable than Commander Talon was at preparing the area for an attack from Zhaitan. The fact that even when Commander Talon blew him off, he still stayed and was willing to help the Lionguard the best he could made a strong impact on Cinalu. It's why she had no qualms about working with him so soon after Tybalt's death. Not to mention, he was someone Tybalt clearly trusted, and that alone would put you higher in her books.

[retrievablememories]

somewhere only we know | doyoung (m)

title: somewhere only we know pairing: elf!doyoung x dryad!reader genre: fantasy, major angst, fluff, smut, royal!au, 1800s!au summary: as the Crown Prince faces increasing pressure to select a wife, he finally falls in love over the course of a summer—charmed by the sounds of nature and a mysterious tree nymph. word count: 32,000+ warnings: major character death, descriptions of death, familial conflict, discrimination/prejudice (both regarding familial lineage and species), classism, physical violence, descriptions of fire, voyeurism (but not in a kink context), strict gender roles/gender stereotypes, sexism/sexist language, some sexual jokes/vulgar language, outdoor sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex (don’t try at home) a/n: this felt like writing a movie, especially towards the end, and i am TIYADDD. i usually actively avoid writing this many characters/plot points because it gets hard to keep things organized, so this fic was a serious test of my abilities lol... there may or may not be an epilogue after this, but that depends on the audience’s (y’all) interest in one

as always, let’s keep in mind this is just fiction and not a judgment of or truly accurate representation of the personalities of any of the idols depicted in this story. 

@constipation08​ thank you for the request and fic idea, this has been a wild ass ride lmao 😭

“Why do we have to leave the kingdom?! I was doing just fine right here!”

“Because our parents say we have to,” Mark replies nonchalantly, already growing weary of hearing Donghyuck’s griping about the King and Queen’s decision. The younger male throws himself onto his bed beside Mark, sighing loudly the entire time.

Donghyuck turns over on his back to give Mark a look. “But why do we need to leave to take gentlemen’s lessons? None of us here need to learn how to be gentlemen, we already are. At least, I am.”

“Your behavior is saying otherwise,” Doyoung counters, watching the two younger men from the bedroom’s doorway. “Perhaps it won’t be that bad. You’ll get to get away from the kingdom for a few months. It’s almost like a vacation.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “No vacation I’ve ever heard of involves work.”

“I don’t know, I’m a bit interested,” Mark says. “Everyone says Eupheme has the best gentlemen’s tutors in the country, so maybe it’ll be—”

“Ugh, don’t say fun.” Donghyuck grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and smacks Mark across the face with it, causing the other man to yelp in surprise and topple over. They soon become embroiled in a battle of who can land the most hits with their respective pillows, which eventually evolves into them wrestling each other.

“See, this is why mother and father say you all need etiquette lessons. It’s like everything you learned as kids evaporated as soon as you hit puberty.” Doyoung shakes his head, but he also can’t help but laugh a little at their continual bickering. “You’ll spend a few months in the company of the other princes, too, so it’s not all bad. I really don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Maybe because he won’t get to see Nayeon while he’s gone,” Mark says this while Donghyuck has him in a headlock, and the younger boy’s grip tightens around his neck.

“Shut up, Mark!”

Doyoung snorts. “Oh, how could I forget?” Nayeon was the daughter of a local lawmaker and someone who Donghyuck had obviously fancied for a while. Nayeon seemed to enjoy his company well enough, and she was undoubtedly within a proper social standing that everyone approved of, should marriage ever come into question. And, perhaps most importantly, she was also of elven blood. Nevertheless, there was talk that her heart had already been captured by another. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe she’ll realize she really is in love with you while you’re gone.”

“Or she’ll enjoy the sweet silence she gets without hearing Donghyuck chatting her ear off at every available moment.” This comment from Mark sends them into another bout of rolling around on the bed, trying to land hits on each other.

“I pity your future wife,” Donghyuck huffs as Mark tries to overtake him. “She’ll get the title of princess in exchange for what? A husband who will be too frightened to peel the sheets back on her first night!”

Doyoung rolls his eyes when he sees the fighting clearly isn’t coming to an end any time soon. Despite that, he certainly isn’t inclined to try to break them up; the last time he got in the middle of one of their scuffles, he ended up with an accidental black eye. The thought of trying to explain to the public what had happened was too embarrassing for words, and he was resigned to stay confined to the castle as it healed.

It would not surprise him if that incident were a part of the equation that finally convinced their parents to send them away for additional royal training. He, for one, isn’t complaining about it.

Doyoung waves his hand and decides to take his leave, quickly tiring of their theatrics. “You two have fun, then. Try not to kill each other; we’re expected to arrive in Eupheme all in one piece.”

They spend the next few days making the necessary preparations to leave for Eupheme—picking out luggage, selecting which outfits to bring, and deciding which guards will accompany them. Their parents have already arranged for them to stay with the King and Queen of Eupheme, who they are long-time friends of, and their three sons, Jeno, Jaemin, and Jisung. Once there, Jungwoo, Mark, Donghyuck, and Sicheng will receive gentlemen’s tutoring alongside the younger three men.

Though they have been to Eupheme and the King and Queen’s home in the past as adolescents, their destination this time is a little different, with a new royal castle only just coming to completion a few years back. The King of Eupheme, always one to pull out all the stops with luxury and extravagance, had seen it fit to build a bigger and more attractive castle in the very center of the kingdom. Their old mansion would go to the oldest son and Crown Prince, Jeno, whenever he married.

The King and Queen of Ceres decide to appoint Doyoung as a chaperone for the boys because of his seniority as Crown Prince—and also because he’s the only older brother they’ll even attempt to listen to. Yuta and Jaehyun stay behind to handle other royal affairs and ambassadorial duties in Doyoung’s place. Some members of the Royal Court are far from thrilled by Doyoung’s departure and Yuta’s taking over a portion of his responsibilities in his absence, but they also know better than to air their grievances out in the open where any of the family could hear.

Yuta is initially not too pleased about being left out of the trip, but he knows there are obligations to attend to in Ceres. He also won’t deny that he relishes being given this role to play, feeling like he has obtained some heightened level of importance within the family for the first time in a long time. He tries not to be so conspicuous about how often he thinks about the position of Crown Prince, and what it might be like if he were only a year older and born of the same mother as his brothers. Yuta tends to think of himself as a master actor in maintaining his unfazed façade concerning his lowered station within the family, with no one the wiser. Well, except for the one he can trust.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, is not nearly so chagrined by having to stay as Yuta is. But of course, leaving would mean having to pause his budding romance with the daughter of the Marquess, so he’s more than willing to stay if tasked to do so.

The day of their departure comes fast. Soon, they’re all standing outside the castle as the servants load the men’s things into several of their stagecoaches. The five of them bid their farewells to their parents and two brothers, if a bit over-exaggeratedly.

“I hope you won’t miss me too much when I’m gone,” Donghyuck says, crowding up to Jaehyun and annoying him with kissy faces.

Jaehyun smiles and rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that will be a problem. Try not to torment our cousins too much.” Even with his joking, he gives the younger boy a hug and pets his hair before letting him go off to bother Yuta.

Doyoung is already there talking with Yuta, placing his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Take care of things while I’m gone, yeah? If there’s anyone around here who can do it, it’s you.”

“Of course, brother. I always honor my duties.” Then Yuta smirks. “Don’t let Jaehyun hear you saying that, though.”

Sicheng isn’t happy about being separated from Yuta for a span of months, but he doesn’t complain in front of the others about it. He simply gives his brother a long hug, sighing into his shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” Yuta insists, trying to get Sicheng to wipe the pout off his face. “Look at the bright side of it. When you come back, you’ll finally have some proper manners.” Yuta gently pinches his ear and Sicheng makes a face at that, though his lips quirk up in a small smile.

“Maybe. For their sake, perhaps these lessons won’t go to complete waste.” Sicheng glances at his other brothers as he says this, and he gives Yuta another nod before walking to one of the stagecoaches.

“Do take care of your brothers,” the Queen says to Doyoung, fixing his collar and patting his shoulders like she often did when he was smaller. Then she sighs. “We have not been parted for such a long time in years. Hurry back, my son…and please remember to be patient with them…you know how they can be.”

Doyoung smiles as she pats his cheek, though he feels a little embarrassed at his mother’s fussing over him. “I promise everything will go well, mother. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Sicheng and Mark take one stagecoach while Doyoung, Donghyuck, and Jungwoo take the other; their guards and servants have another two to themselves. After everyone is loaded in, they wave goodbye to the King and Queen as they ride away from the castle and towards a summer ahead in Eupheme.

In the stagecoaches, it takes a journey of nearly three days to reach Eupheme. By then, everyone is more than ready to get some space away from each other. Their stagecoaches are more finely outfitted than the ones used for public travel by the common folk, but that still doesn’t make them pleasant to keep an extended stay in. There’s nothing quite like being stowed up in one small space with your siblings for days to realize the value of alone time.

 The castle, they find out as they ride along the path leading to it, sits not too far from a nearby village. Beyond that village, an expansive forest stretches out along the land. As to be expected, new property comes with new people and sights.

 The princes had not last visited Eupheme since before the new castle was completed; now, all this newness comes as a welcome surprise. Donghyuck and Jungwoo press their faces up against the stagecoach window to catch glimpses of the village through the trees as they drive past. It’s raining lightly outside, and the waterdrops slide against the windowpanes as they peer out, obscuring their vision slightly.

Doyoung can already see the rapt excitement in their eyes. “Remember we didn’t come here to play in the village all day,” Doyoung tells the others, sighing deeply as he already knows what their plans will be

“Doesn’t mean we won’t, brother,” Jungwoo chuckles, and Donghyuck voices his agreement.

In Sicheng and Mark’s stagecoach, they also look at the scenery with fascination.

“It’s quite different from their old home,” Sicheng remarks. “But prettier.”

Mark presses his palm against the stagecoach’s interior wall, beside the windowpane, and focuses his energy to create a small portal to the outside. He sticks his hand through it to feel the raindrops pattering against his fingers; the air outside is humid and sticky.

“Showboat. You could’ve just opened the window,” Sicheng points out, though he smirks in amusement.

Their cousins’ castle is a grand thing. It’s similar to their own in many ways, but one thing the Euphemian royals have always prided themselves on is their outstanding landscaping. Their front lawn, backyard, and the surrounding fields create a vast world of their own, filled with intricately-shaped hedges, rare flowers, unique stone statues, and even a winding maze of greenery leading to the castle’s front entrance. It was more than enough land for anyone to get lost in for days. One could spend a week just traversing their entire property alone—forget the village and forest.

As their entourage of stagecoaches makes its way through the path to the mansion, the men talk more excitedly with each other, planning the things they hope to do once they get settled in. The King and Queen of Eupheme and their three sons are already standing in front of the castle steps ready to greet them once they arrive.

“Doyoung!” Jeno calls out the prince’s name as soon as he sees his head pop out of the window, and Doyoung waves excitedly to the younger man as he and the others get out.

Once all five men exit the carriage, they bow to the King and Queen.

“It is so good to see you all again after such a long time,” the Queen says, clasping her hands together with a warm smile.

“Surely, you’ve all grown into fine young men.” The King is a big, intimidating man, even for someone of his rank, and the current smile he wears does little to take away from that fact, but the five men return the gesture all the same.

The men get reacquainted with their cousins as the servants unload their things from the stagecoaches.

“You’ve grown up so much. Let me look at you,” Doyoung says, fawning over Jeno as the other men look on and laugh.

“You act worse than a parent,” Jungwoo says, giggling at Jeno’s blushing face.

Sicheng nods his agreement, looking at the two with an embarrassed expression. “Quite obviously—why do you think they picked him to be our chaperone?”

“Come on, we’ll give you a tour around the castle,” Jisung says, excitedly pulling Mark and Donghyuck along with him as he heads for the castle steps.

“I think we’ll be walking around for an entire day.” Donghyuck snickers. “It’s huge.”

Jisung grins, a knowing glance in his eyes. “An entire day? Oh, cousin, that’s just the east wing.”

Unsurprisingly, the group of brothers aren’t immediately unleashed to go exploring in the village.

Their tutors have them settle into a couple weeks of lessons before adding unsupervised free time to their schedules for them to do whatever they please with. It’s not a lot at first—only 30 minutes at a time—but Doyoung knows that’s more than enough time for them to get into trouble, if they so wish.

The men were hardly impressed with being treated like reckless children and would take whatever chance they could to escape the tutors’ watchful eyes, which meant staying on their best behavior and trying to adhere to all their professors’ instructions until they were granted more leniency.

By that point, their instructors were almost being driven crazy by the men’s frequent and not-so-subtle side conversations about what they’d see in the village once they finally got there.

“Alright, here is your first free break of the day. Go on, make use of it. I say, I’ve never seen a bunch of royals so infatuated with what the commoners are doing,” their music tutor exclaims, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t you much rather stay in here where things are clean and predictable and safe—and most importantly, clean?”

“Hmm, no. Clean’s boring!” Donghyuck counters, and he’s the first one to take off and leave the room once he’s gathered all his things. The rest of the men soon trail out of the room after him, with Doyoung heading up the rear. By their parents’ request, he usually sits in on their lessons to make sure they follow their tutors’ orders, or to help them out with whatever questions they have if the teacher is preoccupied with someone else.

“Are you all going to accompany us?” Donghyuck asks Jeno after the older man catches up to him in the hallway.

Jeno gives him a suspicious look. “Accompany you where?”

Donghyuck lowers his voice to prevent Doyoung from overhearing their conversation. “We’re going to visit the village today, see the lay of the land. There’s no time to waste, so if you want to come…”

Jeno shakes his head, a slightly unimpressed look coloring his features. “You go on ahead. If you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it a thousand times before.”

Donghyuck looks at him skeptically, then claps a hand on his back. “Suit yourself!”

It doesn’t take long for Donghyuck to convince Sicheng, Jungwoo, and Mark to use their free time to go to the village with him, and they decide to take the horses to shorten the time it’ll take to get there. They bypass their rooms and head straight outside for the stable, leaving their books and writing utensils sitting in a heap in a corner to avoid wasting any precious time with putting their things away.

While they’re out in the stable, Donghyuck fawns endlessly over the horses. He’s particularly drawn to an all-black one with a shiny coat and an impossibly long mane. Her expressions are almost elven-like, her eyes showing a certain eerie understanding of the words he speaks to her. A large golden label on her stall reads Lily in black curly lettering.

“She’s amazing,” Donghyuck says, gently stroking her muzzle as she peers at him with her huge black eyes. Mark and Jungwoo come over to take a look at the mare, and Mark agrees to Donghyuck’s observation, grinning softly as he brushes his fingers along Lily’s soft coat. Their moment is suddenly disturbed, however, by a voice coming from the stable entrance. The three of them jump a little in surprise.

“Where are you all going?” It’s Doyoung, of course. Donghyuck scoffs and rolls his eyes, trying to ignore his older brother as he keeps petting the horse.

“We’re going out,” Sicheng says, laughing from the other side of the stable as he leads one of the horses out of its stall.

“Obviously, but where?” Doyoung walks further into the stable with the other boys, though he screws up his face at the strong smell of horse and hay. Much like the others, riding horses is an activity he quite fancies, but he doesn’t enjoy the smell of it.

“Leave us for once, brother, please! If you come with us, it’s just going to spoil the mood. Between the tutors and the King and Queen, we have enough overbearing people breathing down our necks.” Mark shushes Donghyuck at that, as if he half expects the King and Queen themselves to come out from the shadows and reprimand them.

Doyoung crosses his arms. “I have no intentions of stopping you, but I’m also not going to let you return here with a herd of angry townspeople on your tail if you do something to set them off.”

“Yes, which means you’ll stop us from doing anything fun,” Sicheng retorts, nearly pouting. He’s used his sad eyes and natural charm on his older brothers to get his way in many situations in the past, but Doyoung isn’t budging this time.

“Doyoung is going to come regardless, can the rest of you just bear with it so we can leave?” Jungwoo says impatiently, leading one of the other horses out and fixing its saddle on. “We don’t have all day to argue.”

“Fine.” Sicheng and Donghyuck aren’t thrilled about the prospect of having their older brother tag along to thwart any mischievous plans they might’ve had. They don’t truly hate it, though; they rarely miss an opportunity to try to get on his nerves if they can, and now is no exception.

After they’ve all picked a steed, they mount their horses and take off to leave the castle.

On the horses, it takes only 5 or 6 minutes to reach the village rather than the 20 minutes they’d spend walking there. When they get there, they are greeted by a sign that reads Arthenia Village. It shows obvious signs of wear, but it looks to have been recently covered with a fresh coat of green paint.

From the first glance, it’s easy to tell that the small town mostly consists of supernatural beings—though they could figure that from the atmosphere alone. The air is thick with magic, and it dances across their skin like static. Fairies and orcs and the occasional elf like themselves walk, ride, or fly through the streets, plus many more beings beyond those. Even a small portion of humans live there, though they blend in almost seamlessly with the others—except for their lack of a magical aura.

Some townspeople stop to watch the men enter the village as they trot down the cobbled streets on their horses, all dressed up in their fineries. In the men’s own eyes, their outfits are quite average for a day of schooling, but the villagers rarely see such luxury in their daily lives.

The townspeople are not really used to interacting with royalty, due to the castle’s inhabitants mostly keeping to their own circles of nobility—and seeing everyone else as beneath them, even if they don’t immediately concede to it. Some villagers are in awe of their entrance, while others look on with expressions of contempt. Donghyuck doesn’t mind the glares, though, and waves excitedly to anyone who’ll wave back.

“I wonder about you sometimes,” Mark says to the younger man, and he narrowly avoids Donghyuck trying to reach out and swipe him off his horse.

They eventually dismount the horses and tie them up at a nearby stall so they can walk around the Market Square. There’s little danger of anyone trying to make off with one of the animals; their saddles decorated with the royal colors and insignia would immediately incriminate any person who’d attempt it. And in any case, a punishment of being sent to the guillotine is more than enough to keep potential thieves away.

Arthenia may be small, but it’s still filled with a distinct culture and a sense of hominess, with people selling their homemade wares and groups of little kids playing and weaving through the streets. A group of girls gathered at a small jewelry shop whisper animatedly among themselves as they watch the men walk by, and they freeze when Doyoung meets their eyes. He waves to them with a warm smile on his face, just as he was taught to do, and they wave back enthusiastically, their free hands covering their mouths to disguise their giggles.

Jungwoo quickly becomes entangled in a game of Horseshoes with a group of adolescents who bet he can’t beat them at their own game. And, despite Sicheng’s earlier complaints, he ends up trailing behind Doyoung for most of their trip, unsure how to interact with the villagers except for following his etiquette training and simply smiling politely at them. If he were in an “I told you so” kind of mood, Doyoung might’ve pointed out the irony of the situation, but he decides to let it be, knowing Sicheng is still trying to adjust.

At the very edge of the village, a small dirt pathway gives way to the same forest they saw on their way to the castle. The expanse of the forest is easier to see when outside of Arthenia itself; it spreads like a thick patch of dark green against the lighter green fields and hills. Up close and personal, though, the forest entrance is thick with foliage, making it hard to see through. The unknown nature of it beckons. Donghyuck catches Mark’s eyes lingering in that direction, and he comes up next to the older man, throwing his arm across his shoulders.

“Is that our next conquest?” he proposes, mischief written across his face. “Want to see what lies there?”

Mark looks back at him, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’m willing if you are.”

A seller at a nearby stall—an elderly orc—overhears their conversation and shakes his head, chuckling as if he’s just heard something utterly ridiculous. “Young men...don’t go in there with bad intentions. The women will drive you out.”

Donghyuck and Mark turn to him with confusion written on their faces. “Women?”

“There are women who live in the trees,” the seller continues. “They protect the trees, protect the forest. Everything there is under their dominion. Before you step foot in there, make sure you’re thinking with your head up top,” he taps a finger against the side of his head, “and not the one between your legs.”

“U-um, that wasn’t—alright.” Mark is openly flustered at being called out, and Donghyuck only laughs, steering Mark away from the stall and back towards the heart of the village.

“Don’t get so discomfited about it, brother. Desires of the flesh are natural for men.” Donghyuck slaps Mark on the chest, and the other coughs a bit at the sudden hit.

“But do you think he said that just to deter us? Or is it true?”

“I’d say there’s only one way to find out.”

Sicheng turns a corner and nearly runs into them, and they both startle at his sudden appearance. “Whatever you’re so eager to find out, it’s not happening today. It’s time to go back already.” He’s no more happy about it than they are, though, rolling his eyes at the prospect of heading back to the mansion when there’s still much to see.

“Already?” Donghyuck questions Sicheng as he starts heading back to the Market Square where their horses are stationed. Sicheng unfolds his pocketwatch and shows him the time, nodding without a word before continuing on. “Ah, shit. We’ll see the forest next time, then. Don’t forget! We’ve got to make haste.”

“Remember what that old man said, though,” Mark says, calling back to Donghyuck as he follows Sicheng. “We aren’t using up all our break time to find lovers or concubines.”

Donghyuck scoffs. “Who do you take me for? No one can find a lover in just 30 minutes, Mark, unless it’s you. Then you’d only need 5 minutes at most.” Then he takes off through the streets as Mark chases after him, threatening to kick his ass once he lays his hands on him.

It’s another week before they can make it out to the village—and therefore, the forest—again, but once the time rolls around, Donghyuck is once again the first out of the castle with Mark on his tail. Jungwoo and Sicheng decide to tag along too, along with Doyoung, which none of them are particularly surprised about.

The villagers’ responses are less awe-struck this time, though some of them still express some surprise at seeing the men come to their little town two weeks in a row. Many of them give friendly waves, though others look on with skepticism as they see the men heading for the woods. They pass by the same elderly orc from last week, who gives them a knowing look; Mark shoots him a nervous smile in return.

Entering the woods on horses requires them to duck their heads a bit to avoid the overhanging foliage threatening to poke them in the eyes or get tangled in their hair. A few of them gripe about this, but they quickly grow captivated with interest as they journey deeper into the terrain and survey the woods.

“This place is nice,” Jungwoo comments. His eyes dart to and fro, though, as if he expects one of the aforementioned women to come out of nowhere and sternly rebuke them for entering their forest abode.

“I can’t wait to see what kind of beautiful women live in this forest,” Donghyuck announces.

“Don’t be so eager, I’m positive none of them would be interested in a kid,” Sicheng scoffs. No sooner do the words leave Sicheng’s lips do a pair of pinecones come falling out of a tall pine tree just a ways above their heads. One only narrowly misses Sicheng, but the other catches Donghyuck on the shoulder.

“Ow! Did you see that?” He grabs his shoulder as if it’s injured and whips his head to look up at the pine’s towering trunk, but there’s no sign of anything other than a few unsuspecting birds.

Doyoung shakes his head. “I wouldn’t say anything else foolish if I were you, brother. Seems like the forest already has something against you.” He laughs to himself, steering his horse away from the others to explore more of the woods.

“It’s not the forest, it’s the women that stall vendor was talking about,” Donghyuck insists, looking over his shoulder for any more falling objects.

“Sure. Next, you will tell us you’re no longer an elf.” Sicheng is less convinced by the presence of the dryads than the other men, but he’s along for the ride anyway. He will at least get to see what all the fuss is about, and even if it’s not true, he’ll have some time away from the castle. Although the King and Queen are as dutifully welcoming as they should be, he can’t shake the feeling of the King’s judgment brewing just underneath the surface. It’s like his aura intentionally closes itself off to the younger man, too haughty and refined to be in the presence of a concubine’s son.

“Let’s just keep on and see what we come across,” Mark says, steering his horse around a fallen log as he traverses further ahead.

Doyoung catches sight of a large oak tree just a little ways off. It doesn’t look much different from the other trees around, save for a hollow hole in its front, but he’s intrigued by it and decides to look more closely. Once he gets over to it, he climbs off his horse and walks up to its large trunk, carefully maneuvering around the thick roots beneath his feet.

Cautiously peeking into the hollow, he sees a nest, but there are no current occupants. He presses one hand against the trunk and feels the grooves and ridges of its texture underneath his palm. It feels old and powerful, and he guesses it must’ve been here for a long time already.

Doyoung hears rustling a few feet above him from the branches, and a few leaves drift down, brushing his face. He expects to see some bird or squirrel when he looks up, maybe the owner of the nest come back to object to his snooping around, but he’s shocked at the sight of a woman.

Doyoung only catches a glimpse of you, for when you notice him looking at you, you gasp and dart further up into the tree’s branches, causing more leaves to fall on the way. Doyoung shields his eyes from them as they come cascading around him, but he fails to get another look. It’s like the tree has enveloped you entirely, hiding you from view.

“That was odd,” he says aloud. So the seller’s words were true after all. He lingers for a while longer, hoping to maybe stay long enough to see you again, but you’ve disappeared. He’s a bit reluctant to leave, but it’s apparent you’re not going to reappear while he’s still around, so he leads his horse away by its reins and looks for the others.

“I saw something,” he says as soon as he spots Donghyuck. “Or someone.”

“Seriously?” Donghyuck’s eyes light up. “What did she look like? Was she pretty? Did you get her name?”

“‘Was she pretty?’ Is that all you can think about?” Doyoung sighs. “I didn’t get anything. I barely saw her. She was among the tree branches one minute and gone the next.” Donghyuck slumps a bit at that, but he’s still determined to see one of the forest’s female inhabitants for himself.

“Hmmm…no matter. There’s many more chances where that came from. We can always return later and see who shows up.”

Their conversation is cut short by a nearby shout from Mark, who’s loudly complaining about his head. Apparently he’s been struck by something much messier than a pinecone—a robin’s egg. “Ugh. What have you fools gotten into?!” Donghyuck calls out, spurring on his horse.

Doyoung mounts his own horse and follows the younger man in search of their brothers. Just before they get out of sight of the oak tree, Doyoung throws a glance backwards, still burning with curiosity. He’s startled to see the same face from earlier staring back at him from the uppermost reaches of the tree, your eyes wide with an inquisitiveness he thinks must mirror his own.

When he blinks, you are gone again.

Even though the other men look at him a bit oddly for it, Doyoung decides to bring a gift the next time they go to the forest.

He doesn’t know much about tree nymphs. He does know, however, that there is a library full of books in the castle; many being history and reference books, no doubt. After visiting the library one day after his brothers’ lessons, he manages to scrape up a little information on tree nymphs—or dryads, as they’re also called—even though he isn’t entirely sure what he’s looking for.

His research tells him the tree nymphs are friends of the gods and goddesses, and history shows that the higher beings have always liked—even demanded for—gifts. So why wouldn’t the women of the forest be the same way? Maybe if he brings a gift, the women will warm up to their presence and realize they aren’t just a bunch of horny travelers. At the very least, maybe they wouldn’t have any more pinecones and eggs thrown at them.

When the brothers get a chance to go to the forest again, Doyoung carries a couple cinnamon scones and a small, bright clementine from their earlier breakfast in his saddlebag. The chef’s scones are the best he’s ever tasted, and he doesn’t think he could ever go back to eating the ones from their cook back home—not that he’d ever say that out loud, though.

Everyone likes food, right? He figures there’s no way to go wrong with this idea, and even if the girl in the oak tree doesn’t like it, maybe one of the other tree nymphs or woodland creatures can eat it.

You aren’t in sight when he stops by the oak tree again. Donghyuck, who’s accompanying Doyoung on his personal quest, watches as he leaves the food in the small tree hollow, keeping it carefully wrapped in its blue and white handkerchief.

“You think she’ll take it?” Donghyuck asks, keeping his voice low. He doesn’t really want you to hear him talking about you if you’re still around somewhere, which could possibly alert you to their presence and scare you off again. But unbeknownst to him, that’s unlikely to happen; dryads always know when someone enters their forest.

“I wouldn’t reject free food,” Doyoung says, laughing quietly. He steps back once he’s finished with his job and looks towards the branches, as if he expects you to appear right then and accept his offering. That won’t likely happen, but he wouldn’t mind seeing what you look like more closely.

“Well, come on then.” Donghyuck waves his hand. “There’s still more to see. We can double back and see if it worked later.”

They hear rustling among the trees as they guide their horses through one of the forest’s many paths, but they don’t see any signs of the dryads. There’s only the occasional forest creature, such as a racoon or squirrel. Mark, Sicheng, and Jungwoo are farther away in another part of the woods, though the two men can hear them talking faintly, their voices carrying on the wind. Sunlight from the midday sun filters through the leaves, turning the landscape into a speckled show of light and shadow.

When Donghyuck and Doyoung get far enough away from the oak tree, they eventually come across a lake that splits the forest in half. It’s not very wide, but if you tried to jump across it you’d almost certainly land in the water instead of on dry land.

There are signs that sprites have recently been near the lake, or quite possibly live within the forest. The ground is littered with half-eaten berries and chewed-on leaves, but that’s not the only clue; that could be the work of any forest animal. Sprites, however, leave a very distinct tinge of magic in places they’ve visited. It’s akin to walking through a spiderweb, or feeling the air change when you go from the hot outdoors to a cold room. Doyoung almost swears he can hear tiny tinkling laughter next to his ear, though it fades away as soon as he turns around.

Donghyuck is more interested in the lake, though, and guides his horse to walk along the edge of the grass where the water begins. “Do you figure we could go swimming in it?” he calls back to Doyoung.

Doyoung scoffs. “Now?”

“Of course not now! Maybe some other day, when we don’t have 20 other things to do.”

“Maybe. The water seems safe enough…” Doyoung peers into the running waters himself, watching a few twigs and stray leaves float past. There aren’t any apparent dangers or concerns, and the water’s shallow enough where you can see the bottom of the lake, but appearances aren’t always as they seem. It’s always essential to be wary in magically-charged places like this forest.

They ride through the woods for a while longer, listening to birds cry out from the trees and sing softer chirps that serve as background music. Despite the forest’s inherent mystery, it’s almost calming at this moment, with the steady hum of wildlife around. It’s like time has been suspended and they’ve been enveloped in a dimension separate from their own, even though they can see familiar signs of life prospering all around them. The contradiction of the forest’s calm and unsettling quality is both strange and wonderful to experience.

By the time their half-hour of exploration starts running out, they circle back to the grand oak tree to see what’s become of Doyoung’s offering. He’s actually a bit surprised to see it gone, handkerchief and all, and he gets off his horse to inspect the tree hollow.

“It worked!” Donghyuck exclaims this a little too loudly and a nearby bird takes off. He flinches reflexively, expecting another pinecone to come hurtling at him from the trees, though none do.

“It did,” Doyoung agrees, pressing his fingers against the wood as he looks into the tree hollow. He’s even more pleased than he expected to be, a small grin playing on his lips. “It did.”

Doyoung leaves more gifts over the next few weeks, which ends up in him actually buying things for your merriment. Many of them are cute and inexpensive little trinkets from the Market Square, like smooth blue moonstones and jagged sharp crystals that the vendors swear have been blessed with witches’ magic, though he often still leaves food.

Even with these regular visits, he’s still yet to catch more than a few glimpses at a time of you. Unbeknownst to him and Donghyuck, these sightings, no matter how sparse they are, are largely due to you throwing them a bone and allowing them to perceive you. At any other time, it would be all too easy to just disappear completely and wait for them to leave after depositing their offerings.

They don’t always see you when they come to the tree, but it happens enough to be worth noting.

Despite this inability to get you to stay, Donghyuck still tries his luck with calling out greetings to your retreating form. These words, no matter how friendly they are, are often swallowed up in the rustling of the leaves.

The same thing happens today. Donghyuck spots your feet peeking out from an uppermost branch, not quite concealed by the leaves, and he rushes out the first thing he can think of to say. “Hey, there—” At the sound of his voice, though, you quickly retreat. “Uh, nice tree-climbing skills? Oh, alright, okay…”

“I don’t think she wants to talk right now,” Doyoung remarks, a smirk on his face as he goes to leave his token for today. This time, it’s another food gift; a pair of peaches and a biscuit with jam.

“That’s fine!” Donghyuck tries not to seem embarrassed about his fruitless greetings. “I’ll just keep greeting her until she does feel like answering. It would be rude not to say hello otherwise! Unlike someone else here. Not very princely of you, huh, brother?”

Donghyuck sticks his tongue out at his brother and spurs his horse to gallop off into the trees, feeling the air whip past his cheeks. In the back of his mind, he himself knows why he keeps calling out to you even if he won’t get an answer, though he doesn’t intend on letting Doyoung know why. Some things are better kept to oneself; he’s had to learn that lesson over time.

He eventually ends up on a small hill in the forest, which is surrounded by tall trees and covered in sparse patches of moss. He hears giggling above him from one of the trees, though when he turns his head to look, there’s nothing there.

Still chagrined from the time he got hit with a pinecone, he keeps his head turned skyward, trying to see if he can spot anything among the tree canopy. However, all he sees is green and more green. He’s about to give up and go about his way when an acorn comes zooming down and hits him square in the forehead.

“Hey!” he shouts, rubbing the sore spot on his head. His exclamation reverberates off the tree trunks and bounces back to him. The echo of it almost overtakes the small set of giggles from just in front of him, but his ear catches them. “Whoever you are, come out!”

Donghyuck’s horse whinnies softly but does nothing else to alert him to where the possible culprit might be hiding, and he sighs heavily. He decides to get off the horse to walk around the area, inspecting it more closely as the wind stirs his hair and tickles his ears. The forest is almost eerily silent the entire time; all Donghyuck can hear is the sound of his own breaths and his boots in the grass.

Suddenly, he yells when a mop of black hair falls on top of his head. The shock of it sends him falling to the ground, dirtying his pants. When he gets enough distance between himself and the strange black hair, he realizes it’s one of the tree nymphs. Not you from the oak tree, though, to his slight disappointment. This one hangs upside down from a thick branch as she looks at him, her eyes playful and bright.

“You’re a cute one, aren’t you?” Her voice sounds like windchimes tinkling in the breeze, light and airy. Donghyuck tries to respond, but he finds himself lost for words after finally facing one of the women who have been an enigma this entire time. When she sees he isn’t responding, she says, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Who...where…?” Donghyuck scrambles to his feet, and the girl rights herself on her tree branch, skittering along the length of it to hide partway behind the tree trunk. She doesn’t appear to actually be shy or apprehensive, though. Her grin tells him that this is all part of her game.

“Hmm. Well, when you figure out what you’d like to say, call for me.” The girl disappears completely behind the tree trunk, and Donghyuck darts behind it, expecting to see her still hiding there. However, there’s nothing but air.

“But I don’t know your name?” Donghyuck calls after her, but there’s only his own voice reflected back to him.

“Don’t know whose name?” Mark’s voice makes Donghyuck turn around in surprise, a blush coloring his cheeks. He hadn’t even heard the older man’s horse come trotting up.

“No one,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he walks back to his horse. “You must be hearing things.”

You and three other dryads sit in a circle in a small clearing one night, talking amongst yourselves, eating berries, and gazing at the moon as it shines directly upon your little spot. Cassia lays her head in your lap, her long black hair splaying across your legs. The other two, Peony and Daphne, cuddle close to each other, their legs entangling as they feed each other berries.

You all only come out like this when you’re sure the forest is free of any unwelcome visitors or sudden drop-ins, so you can enjoy each other’s company in peace and talk without prying ears or eyes. And speak of the devil—the subject soon turns to the men who’ve been gallivanting through the forest as of late.

“We can never have any peace,” Cassia says, though her tone is laced with laughter. “If it isn’t one group of thirsty and untouched men, it’s another.”

“That one man always comes around this area, the one with the long hair. Along with the rest of them…all on their horses, making so much noise and chaos,” Peony complains.

“It’s impossible not to notice their presence. I wish they’d just stay wherever they come from; they make far too much noise out here,” Daphne says, shaking her head. “They must scare away every woodland creature within a 20-foot radius.”

You’re quiet and thoughtful as you listen to the other girls’ complaints. Finally, you decide to chime in. “I don’t know. They do seem a bit mannerless at times, but they’re kind of interesting.”

Peony shrugs. “Not surprised you’d say that. The one with the long hair is always looking up your tree and leaving you gifts.”

“She just doesn’t want the stream of admiration to stop,” Cassia giggles.

You sigh. “I don’t think it’s quite that simple, but whatever you say.”

“Everyone in the world likes attention, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Cassia admits, “especially when it’s coming from someone who isn’t half-bad. This batch of men is by far the most attractive we’ve seen in a while.”

“Hmm, if you say so,” Peony says, and her and Daphne giggle to themselves like they’re in on a joke only the two of them know.

“He must think he’ll get in your good graces if he gives you enough presents,” Daphne adds in. “What say you?”

You tilt your head and think. “Get in my good graces? That depends on what he wants.”

“What he wants?” Peony separates herself from Daphne and crawls over to you, mischief shining in her eyes. “And what do you think he wants?” Her grin doesn’t diminish as she waits for your answer. Daphne smiles and laughs and licks berry juice off her hands as she observes you both.

You stare at the other girl for a long moment, not wanting to laugh but cracking a grin anyway. “I couldn’t possibly know! Maybe you should ask him—or ask the younger one you all have been obsessed with.”

Cassia stretches her arms upwards toward the night sky, crossing her fingers over each other. “Nope. He’s just fun to tease.”

“Fun enough for you to reveal yourself to him,” you point out.

“Say what you will,” she responds. “But at some point, you will probably have to talk to the man. Think carefully. You want to make a good impression on your not-so-secret admirer, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” you say nonchalantly, though you are already thinking of what you might say to him the next time he comes around.

Daphne looks to Cassia, then at you. “Well, just remember this. I wouldn’t waste too much of my good time with him if I were you. We all know elves don’t like us.” The mood shifts a bit at this, with the three of you giving each other unsettled looks as a familiar thought drifts in the back of your minds. It is not uncommon for elves to demean other species, nor is it rare for them to use this perceived superiority to take what they want from others.

Cassia pulls up a handful of grass and throws it at the other girl. “Must you spoil the mood? We’re just having a bit of fun. Besides, these elves obviously don’t object to us if they keep hanging around here unprovoked.”

“I’m trying to look out for the best interest of a fellow dryad,” Daphne protests. “Elven men are very seductive…everything you want them to be until they’re not. But, by all means, do as you please.”

“Like Cassia said, it’s just fun.” You keep your voice nonchalant, though you are already rising to your feet to walk back to your tree. “And thank you for the concern…although I’m not certain it’s warranted.”

The other girls let you walk back alone, knowing you need a bit of time to yourself to think. You wonder what the man’s motive could truly be, and what it means for you. The elves of Arthenia have historically been easy to get along with as they don’t share the views of many others in their race. The same can’t always be said for elven people outside of this small area, though.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

One day, Doyoung manages to go out to the forest by himself while his brothers are still busy with their studies.

He plans to leave you something again, maybe hoping to see you fully this time, though he’s also content to just be out in nature and enjoy the scenery if that’s not possible. At least that’s what he tells himself. Fortunately for him, Lady Luck takes his side today.

After getting off his horse, he heads straight for your oak tree with his gift in hand. It’s a small piece of dyed glass that he got from the Market Square, shaped like a maple leaf. It appears to change colors when held up to the light, as if it were a real leaf with the sun shining through its cells.

You’re already sitting on one of the upper branches when he comes to the tree. He stops in his tracks, thinking you might run off again if he comes any closer, but you simply sit and look at him, your knees close to your chest. He thinks about what a precarious position that is to take on a tree branch, but you’re obviously used to keeping your balance up there.

There’s a tense silence. Doyoung’s afraid you might leave, but he’s surprised when you stay put as the seconds tick past, wrapping your arms around your knees and watching him. When he becomes a little more confident that you won’t try to escape, he steps closer, albeit slowly. “Hello,” he says, keeping his voice even and quiet. Like he’s speaking to something vulnerable and scared.

After a few beats of silence, you say, “Hi.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m...Doyoung.”

“Doyoung.” You cock your head, weighing whether you should tell him your name or not, but you eventually do.

“It’s a pretty name,” he says, and he actually means it rather than saying it just to be polite. “Um…” He looks to the glass leaf in his hand, which is cradled in another handkerchief. “I was wondering if I’d ever get to see you in person.”

“I’m always here,” you say.

Doyoung nods and chuckles. “Well...I can’t argue with that.”

“You’re always here, too. With your group of men. Making so much noise that you scare all the creatures in the forest away.”

Doyoung winces. He already knew that they weren’t the quietest mice in the bunch whenever they came to the forest. “I’m...sorry about that. I’ll tell the others to keep it down from now on.”

You nod. “That would be nice. The other girls don’t like the noise.”

“What about you?”

You shrug. “They’re not wrong for being irritated about it.”

“Could this make up for it? At least, for you?” Doyoung pulls away the handkerchief and holds the glass leaf up for you to see. You climb down from your high post to look at it more closely, though you don’t leave the tree entirely; you just balance on one of the lower branches.

“It’s pretty,” you whisper, and Doyoung notices your eyes seem to sparkle a bit more at the sight of the ornament even though your outer demeanor is calm.

“Then I’ll leave it here.” Doyoung tucks it into the small tree hollow where he’s always put the rest of his presents.

“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, and he is surprised to see a slight smile on your face; the first one he’s ever seen from you. He realizes he’s staring at you a little longer than he should and catches himself.

“Ah, y-you’re welcome.”

You nod but don’t say anything more, and Doyoung knows he ought to speak again soon if he doesn’t want to surrender this small opportunity he’s had to talk to you.

“Are there...many of you here?”

“Dryads?”

“Ah, yes...dryads.”

“There are many, yes,” you answer. “Not every tree has a keeper; some are just empty. But many do. We live in our trees.”

“In?” Doyoung realizes this may be referring to something other than just literally living among the branches, which he didn’t think of until now. You nod.

“Maybe it’s a little different from your elven magic.” You glance at his ears and momentarily think of the conversation you had with the other dryads. “But it’s a type of magic all the same.”

“I see…” Doyoung remembers to file that bit of information away so he can tell Donghyuck, who’s been burning to know. The books in the library only provided so many answers, much to their disappointment, with them not having much recorded information on the tree nymph race. Dryads seemed to be a thing of mystery to many, though he could easily guess why.

“You’re not Eupheme-born,” you say abruptly. “Where do you hail from?”

“The kingdom of Ceres,” Doyoung answers. You nod, and he takes this as recognition. “Have you been there before?

You shake your head. “I can’t leave the forest.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“We’re connected to the trees. They keep us alive, and vice versa. If we’re separated over too far of a distance, both will die.”

“That’s grim,” Doyoung says, his eyebrows drawing together. “Don’t you ever want to leave? Go somewhere else? It can’t be happy to be chained to one place forever.”

You raise your eyebrows and laugh, incredulous at his statement. “Chained? The forest is my home. There’s nowhere else I’d ever want to be.”

Doyoung shrugs. “You have a much stronger constitution than me, then. I don’t know that I’d want to be tied to any one place for my entire life.”

You squint your eyes, staring at him carefully. “You’re royalty, aren’t you?” He nods in response. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts. You can come to this forest however you please and have fun, but you’ll have to have a family sooner or later...something more permanent to tie you to this world.” You slip down from your branch, letting your feet touch the ground, and Doyoung steps back a little to give you space. “Men like to roam and be free and sow their wild oats. They’re more than welcome to do that, but I’ll stay here among the trees.”

He stares at you in wonder, your words repeating in his head as you gingerly take his gift out of the hollow. You turn back to him momentarily, giving him a quick parting smile and a nod before skipping off into the trees.

“A letter came!” Jungwoo holds up a cream-colored envelope that sports their family’s familiar crest on a wax seal on the back. It’s a letter from their parents—their first correspondence since the men have left the castle.

“What does it say?” Mark and Donghyuck crowd around him to persuade him into opening the envelope faster. Before Jungwoo can read it, Sicheng plucks it out of his hand and holds it up to the light, making a show of squinting at the inky black handwriting. “Well? Go on!” Donghyuck prods him.

“Hmm...” Sicheng purses his lips and crinkles his brows as if concentrating hard, then gives them all a sly smile. “It says you’re all kicked off the inheritance and I’m becoming the next Crown Prince.”

Doyoung shakes his head and takes the letter from Sicheng as the younger man laughs. The other three boys balk at his attempt at a joke, and Doyoung knows the atmosphere could easily turn awkward if he doesn’t step in now. “Anyway. Let’s see what it really says, I’m sure they must be missing our presence…”

They all stand around Doyoung as he reads the letter out to them, trying to look over his shoulder as if he can’t read fast enough to satisfy their curiosity.

“Dear boys, we hope Eupheme has been finding you well.

Affairs in Ceres have been running as normal in your absence, thankfully, and Yuta and Jaehyun have been handling their new duties well. They also send their regards and hope to see you back soon.

“There is also important news for our Doyoungie. We are considering a potential match for you—the Duke of Ceres’ daughter, with whom you should already be familiar—and plan to set a meeting as soon as you return at summer’s end. We think you will find her very agreeable...” Doyoung’s voice falters a bit.

“Aw, is our indecisive brother finally going to become a married man this year?” Jungwoo slings his arm around Doyoung’s shoulders, and the older man lets out a puff of air.

“By the beginning of next year, who wants to bet?” Donghyuck snickers. “Girls naturally love you, it won’t take long for you to charm her. Either way, it’s not like you have very much longer to wait.” Mark elbows him in the side and he complains in turn, but not before cuffing Mark over the head.

“...I suppose.” That comment about being a “ladies’ man” might have drawn a laugh or two or even a boast if it were said months ago, but now Doyoung just feels strangely unsettled about it all—the impending courtship and his inevitable marriage. He continues reading the rest of the letter, though if someone were to ask him later, he wouldn’t be able to remember the rest of the words.

“We think you will find her very agreeable and are thrilled for you to get to know each other better. It is nothing to worry yourself over now, but do keep this in mind.

“Boys—remember to keep following all of your tutors’ instructions, and please refrain from making yourselves bothersome. You all are guests, and the King and Queen of Eupheme are being very honorable by hosting you this summer.

“We all send our best regards.”

That night, Doyoung tries his best to fall asleep but is kept awake by the contents of the letter. It’s hard to tear his mind away from what will happen once he returns to Ceres. Though he’d thought he’d be prepared for this, he feels unexpectedly nervous and averse to the idea of yet again courting someone he barely knows for months—and quite possibly marrying them this time around. He doesn’t know how much longer their parents’ patience in allowing him to take his time with finding a partner will last.

It’s proper. It’s tradition. It’s what’s expected of him and his brothers, and he’s been primed for this duty his entire life. Yet, that knowledge does nothing to quell the uncomfortable sensation—dare he call it dread?—creeping upon him.

He watches the clock on the mantle across his bedroom, just above the fireplace. Its little black hands tick by endlessly, counting down the seconds, minutes, hours. When another hour passes and he’s still staring at the clock, Doyoung peels the covers back and decides to leave the castle for a bit. He already knows of a few tucked-away passages he can slip out of that lead to the outside in some way or another, having bribed Jaemin into telling him where they are in case any of his brothers tries to sneak out. How ironic that he’s now using that knowledge for his own gains.

Although he’s not sure if he’ll need it, Doyoung throws on a cloak for good measure before escaping to the outside. He spends a while walking through the castle’s extensive gardens and making sure he’s staying out of sight of the guards, though he feels no sleepier than he did when he first got there. Exasperated, he’s about to turn around and head back for the indoors when the woods beyond Arthenia pop into his mind.

Should he? He’s already outside; what’s the harm in it? Admittedly, the answer is a lot if he’s caught, but he pushes those thoughts away, as his feet are already turning to lead him away from the castle grounds. Doyoung decides he’ll use his glamor for a bit to disguise his face and elven ears once he gets to Arthenia, though there probably won’t be many people awake at this time of night.

Without a horse, the walk to the forest is long. Doyoung doesn’t create any of his light orbs until he’s sure he’s far enough away from the castle to not be spotted by any of the night watch guards. When he thinks it’s safe, he conjures a small ball of burning blue light in his palm, which is enough to illuminate his footsteps.

Doyoung’s boots are wet from the damp grass by the time he reaches the Market Square, and he passes by the rows of houses and outbuildings without a sound. Some lights are still on in some homes, glowing a warm yellow in the dim light of the half moon, while others are pitch black and fade into the surrounding darkness.

The forest looks even more intimidating at night, even with the limited light. He hesitates at the forest entrance for a minute, wondering if it’s safe to go inside. He’s yet to see anything truly dangerous during the daylight hours, but things can be different at night. He didn’t think to possibly bring his bow and arrow from their archery lessons, and there will be no easy escape on horse if something menacing crosses his path. Shaking his head and sighing, he enters anyway and prays to whatever goddess will listen for the best. He’s already walked this far.

Doyoung convinces himself that he’s just going to walk around for a bit, maybe sit at the lake for a while, but after turning in a wide, looping circle, his feet eventually end up leading him to the oak tree. You are already sitting on a low branch when he arrives, as if waiting for his appearance. He notices you’re wearing the moonstone he once left in the tree hollow; somehow it’s been fashioned into a necklace, and he wonders where you got the tools to do that. One of your legs trails off the tree branch you’re perched on, swinging leisurely in the cool night air, and he tries not to stare.

“Y/N,” slips from his lips. “You’re awake at this hour?”

You smirk. “So are you.” Doyoung moves the cloak’s hood away from his face with this free hand, and you study the glowing orb in his other hand. “You’re a Light User...that’s interesting.”

“I guess it could make for a fun trick at a ball,” he says, and tosses the glowing orb up into the air. He does this a few times until he throws it up one last time and it hovers in the air, as if stuck by an invisible force. Doyoung manipulates the orb with his fingers in a way that causes it to split up into a dozen more bright glowing spheres, all suspended in the air. By now, the entire area around the oak tree is lit up from the light emanating from these numerous orbs.

You laugh softly at this display, reaching out to touch the orb nearest to you and discovering that, despite your hand passing through it, the air still feels oddly warm in the spot where the light glows. “Very pretty. It’s peculiar to see you at this hour, though. Are you even allowed to be out this late?” you ask, your eyes still lingering on the orb.

“No, but…” Doyoung trails off, unsure if he wants to revive that concern. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You finally look back at him, and your face creases slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Doyoung says, and he doesn’t know, really. Getting married was always a part of the plan, as royalty. So why is he doubting it now? Maybe he knows more about why he’s feeling this way than he’ll admit to, but there are things he’s still not even sure of himself at the moment.

You decide not to press the matter for now, especially after seeing his conflicted face. “You don’t have your horse. Was it a long walk?”

He nods and laughs a little, thinking maybe it was a bit ridiculous to walk all the way here in the middle of the night. He still has to walk all the way back, which isn’t an appealing thought. “Nothing like a bit of exercise to tire you out, I guess. Hopefully I’ll sleep better after.”

“You sound like a troubled sleeper. I eat jasmine petals if I have trouble sleeping. You know, there’s a bush of them around here.” It’s an offer for him to partake, if he wants to.

“My mom likes jasmine tea,” Doyoung says, grinning slightly. “Do you often have trouble falling asleep? I would think it would be easier being surrounded by nature like this.”

You slide off the lower branch and land on the grass with a soft thump. “Not always…but I’d rather have an easy remedy than be left without one when I needed it.” Then you move to follow a dirt path leading away from the tree, but not before turning back to look at Doyoung. “Come on, then. I’ll show you the bush.”

Once again, he hesitates like he did just before entering the forest. “Is...it safe?”

You squint at him. “Safe?”

“I mean…there must be other creatures in this forest besides the agreeable woodland variety.”

“Yes…but they mostly live on the far outskirts. And either way, none of the other inhabitants will hurt a dryad. We’re the forest’s keepers. So you’ll be safe if you’re with me.”

Doyoung decides to take your word for it and follows you along the path, his blue orbs trailing after him. He sends some further ahead to light the narrow path so you both can see better, though you already know where the bush is by heart.

Soon, you’re both standing in front of the aforementioned bush, which is laden with white jasmine blooms. They seem to shine unnaturally brightly under the illumination of the blue orbs.

“Take some,” you say, carefully plucking one of the flowers from the bush. You hold it up to his nose so he can smell it, and he does so. The scent envelops him like a warm hug, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s already making him feel better. When you hold the flower out to him, he takes it gingerly. He doesn’t fail to notice the soft blossom’s texture, or the equal softness of your hand.

“Will your friends be okay with this?” Doyoung asks tentatively, holding the flower in his hand with a certain fragility.

“They will. And if they aren't, it can be our secret.” There are no secrets in this forest, really, but you humor him anyway, wanting to do something nice in return for the gifts he’s given you.

Doyoung nods and takes a couple more of the flowers, their leaves included, for the tea. He tucks them safely in the pocket of his pants.

You smile at him once he’s taken what he wants. “You’re quite gentle,” you remark. Doyoung doesn’t expect to hear that from you, and he looks at you quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

“You just appear to be very...cognizant. Many people who’ve come to the forest before don’t give any thought to disturbing the natural balance of things and taking what they want. Not the villagers, but others.”

“I see,” Doyoung nods, feeling his face grow warm. He’s never had that particular attribute associated with him before. Gentle. Men are meant to be strong and brave and fearless; gentleness is for the fairer sex. He doesn’t dislike it, though. Quite the opposite, in fact.

You nod in return. “Well, it’s getting a bit late...later than it already is, anyway. I don’t know how things at your castle work, but you may want to be getting back before someone notices you’re gone. The sun will be rising soon enough.”

Doyoung smiles slightly. “You’re quite right.”

“Would you like me to walk back with you? To keep you safe, you know.” You giggle at this. “I will only go as far as the edge of the forest. But you should be alright beyond that point.”

“That’s fine with me.” Doyoung can’t help but feel a little embarrassed about being on the receiving end of such niceties, thinking that this is the kind of thing he’d be doing for you in any other context. He’s not going to pass up the offer of safety, though—and the opportunity to spend a few more minutes in your company.

You talk in low voices on the way back towards the forest’s opening. Mostly about things in the forest, though Doyoung does mention his brothers once or twice. Secretly, you think it’s a bit endearing how much he cares about them even if they get on his nerves.

“We’re here,” you say once you’re in view of the village again.

“Thank you for walking with me. And thank you for the jasmine.” Doyoung pats his pocket.

You grin and wave. “You’re welcome. Sleep well.”

Doyoung starts walking off but suddenly turns back to you as if there’s something more he wants to say. You raise your eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak, but after a second, he only smiles—if a bit nervously—and returns your wave.

You shuffle back into the underbrush a bit, though you stay there and watch him walk away until he’s just a speck amongst the backdrop of the village.

Doyoung makes it back home undetected and climbs back into bed feeling tired enough to sleep now, though he also attributes some of his sleepiness to the pleasant smell of jasmine still clinging to him.

When he slumbers, he dreams of a soft hand touching his, ripe with the scent of jasmine flowers.

The days get progressively hotter as the summer months settle in. With their tutors’ increasing lenience thanks to them taking well to their educational and etiquette lessons, the men get more time to themselves to do whatever they wish. The heat encourages them to spend more time outdoors, whether it’s running through the castle’s expansive yards, shooting arrows at targets or some poor stuffed mannequins, or heading to the village—and subsequently, the forest.

One hot day when they have little responsibilities to tend to, Jungwoo comes up with the brilliant idea to head to the lake for a couple hours, perhaps to cool down from the heat by wading in the water for a while. Sicheng, who has grown a bit disenchanted with the forest, decides to spend the day with their three cousins instead.

However, when the men get within shouting distance of the lake, they realize it’s already occupied.

“Wait!” Mark hisses, pulling on the reins of his horse to make it stop. He holds a finger to his lips, and before any of the men can question him, the sound of shouting, laughter, and water splashing drifts to them on the wind. It appears they aren’t the only ones who’ve had the idea of visiting the lake today.

“Oh?” Donghyuck’s eyes widen, and he and Jungwoo waste no time with getting off their own steeds to head for the riverbank.

“Wait, where the hell are you leaving off to?” Doyoung whisper-shouts, but the two pay him no mind as they creep over to a cluster of bushes near the edge of the lake. The shrubs are big enough to conceal them while still providing a few gaps to peek through, and from their new post they spot the dryads farther down the length of the lake, standing in a shallow portion. The women aren’t near enough to spot the men hiding in the bush, but they are still close enough to see clearly from this distance.

“W-what do you see?” Mark asks, his body poised as if he wants to get off his horse and join them too, but he’s still unsure.

“You’ve got to see it for yourself,” Donghyuck snickers, waving the older man over.

Mark looks to Doyoung. Doyoung gives him an incredulous look, and Mark shoots an apologetic one back before dismounting his horse and going over to join his brothers, squeezing in-between them as they crouch on the ground. He sees a group of six dryads playing in the lake, splashing each other with the water. Two more sit on the bank observing the festivities and talking about something they’re holding in their hands, though Mark can’t quite make out what the small objects are.

Donghyuck has only barely seen you during the times he’s gone with Doyoung to deliver your gifts, though he instantly recognizes you as one of the girls standing in the lake. His breath catches a bit as he watches you with water glistening off your skin and your dress clinging to your body.

“Isn’t this a little distasteful?” Mark mutters, his big eyes darting nervously between his brothers. He shifts uncomfortably, looking like he’s ready to make a run for it if need be. “I mean, watching them through the bushes like this…”

“Probably,” Jungwoo replies. “But as long as they don’t notice us…”

Mark almost shouts at feeling a hand come down on his shoulder, and Donghyuck whips his head around when the same happens to him; however, it’s only Doyoung. “You all need to get up right now,” he hisses lowly. “Haven’t you learned anything over the past few months? This is inappropriate—”

“Why are you standing?! Get down before they—”

Before any of them can realize what’s happening, what must be a gallon of lake water splashes down on all four of their heads. Screams of shock ring through the forest, along with a loud round of laughter—coming from both above them and further down the lake.

Mark, Jungwoo, and Donghyuck get to their feet in a rush, looking and feeling very much embarrassed. They look up toward the treetops and see two dryads sitting in the cleft of some of the sturdier branches, openly giggling at them. Jungwoo notices they aren’t holding buckets or any other objects that could’ve explained how they got the water up there in the first place—just a net woven with leaves, which he is certain they couldn’t have been transporting the water in. And yet… “How did you...?”

The women aren’t interested in answering his question, though, and instead disappear into the branches, leaving nothing but a few stray leaves fallen to the ground.

“I think we probably deserved that,” Mark says, sighing and trying to shake some of the water out of his clothes. The rest of the dryads who are still in the water follow the lead of the other two girls, running out of the lake and scattering through the forest, the echoes of their laughter the only evidence that they were ever there. The only ones who stay are you and the two other tree nymphs sitting on the riverbank. Now that everyone is in full view of each other, Mark belatedly realizes that the “objects” the two girls were holding and cooing over are not objects at all, but small sprites.

You step a little closer to the group of men, and the other two girls watch them intently. “If you wanted to play with us, you could just say so. It would benefit you not to be a bunch of cads about it.” You roll your eyes, though you are somewhat amused by seeing them standing there looking soaked and embarrassed.

“O-of course! I tried to tell them, but you know how it is with these kids...we were just leaving, actually.” Doyoung grips Donghyuck and Jungwoo’s collars like he’s about to drag them off like two misbehaving children, and Donghyuck’s face flushes at being treated like a kid in front of you.

“Are you sure about that?” you ask, and Doyoung raises his eyebrows at your question. You lower your hand into the lake water as if you’re only checking its temperature or letting it flow through your fingers—which is why they’re taken off guard when you draw your hand back and send a big splash of water flying in their direction.

Donghyuck is the first to react, pulling away from Doyoung’s grasp and rushing into the water to splash you back. It’s not long before things quickly evolve into another splash battle, with the other boys wading into the lake to join. The other two girls give skeptical glances at first, but they eventually bid goodbye to their sprite friends and jump into the lake, too.

You all spend what feels like hours running through the water and splashing each other, and your two friends take more quickly to the men than you expected. When the hour for them to leave comes rolling around, you are all soaked but smiling.

“We’re never going to hear the end of it,” Mark says, looking down at their wet clothes. Still, there’s no concealing the bright and amused smile coloring his features.

Your two friends wave to the men and quickly slip off back to their trees, though you linger for a while longer as you watch them climb out of the lake and try to wring out their clothes. Doyoung’s the last one left standing in the water with you, and you turn to him.

“Did the flowers help?” you ask.

“The flow—? Oh, the flowers! They worked just as intended, thank you…” Doyoung blushes a little at the memory. As the others head for their horses, Donghyuck hangs back a little to hear the conversation, wanting to be nosy and wondering what flowers you’re referring to.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you reply, smiling and feeling a little proud that your remedy worked—even though you knew it would. “You know, if you ever need anything else, you can just ask…there are a lot of resourceful things here. It’s like living in an apothecary.”

“Well, I’m interested if he isn’t!” Haechan interjects.

You smirk lightly at him while Doyoung shoots him an irritated look. “Sure. I suppose you’ve taken interest in the forest itself and are no longer just looking for a pretty woman to mess around with?”

Donghyuck flushes at your words, and his smile falters a little at being called out on his earlier intentions. Beside him, Doyoung gloats internally, and he bites his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. “Um…sorry about that.”

“It’s nothing new,” you say matter-of-factly. Then you turn to Doyoung. “Anyways…don’t forget what I said. I’ve gotten used to seeing you around here, so...don’t be a stranger.” You go to leave then, but not before turning back around once more. “And don’t go snooping around. You’re not as stealthy as you think.”

Donghyuck only nods, too embarrassed to respond and unable to justify himself. Both men watch as you walk away, likely back towards your tree. Doyoung turns to the younger man. “Come on, then. Let’s be heading back; maybe our clothes will dry out on the way there.”

After the lake incident, Donghyuck insists on using all his lesson breaks for the next couple of weeks to go with Doyoung whenever he travels to the forest to see you. Donghyuck becomes even more invested in this after knowing that Doyoung had already met you face-to-face after going to the forest by himself. The older man acquiesces, though deep down he’d like to spend more time with you alone—especially with managing to make these visits only once or twice a week. Still, seeing you with his little brother clinging to his side is better than not seeing you at all.

Donghyuck is talkative and lively and inquisitive in your presence, much more willing to learn new things from you than from even the highest-rated tutors in Eupheme. Doyoung finds that particularly ironic, though he doesn’t remark on it. Instead, he listens intently along with Donghyuck as you tell him about the many different kinds of plants within the forest, including what purposes they serve. Doyoung is always reminded of the night you gave him those jasmine flowers, and even now, he stares at your hands as you point out different leaves and subtly wishes he could have any excuse to touch them again.

“These berries are safe to eat, though they look very similar to poisonous Pokeweed berries. That’s why you want to be sure you can tell the difference between them…” You place a few in your palm and hold them out for Donghyuck to see.

Donghyuck—who looks at you like you know everything in the world. You know many things, but not everything; but you’ll continue to let him look at you so admirably, because you find it endearing. He somewhat makes you think of what it might be like to have a younger brother or an amiable male friend. Someone to offer you a different perspective of the world external from the community of women you’ve always lived in.

Could Doyoung be that male friend or curious brother, too? Maybe, but maybe not.

Whenever you turn and speak to Doyoung to keep him included in the conversation, you don’t get that companionable feeling. There’s something much warmer there, something that makes you smile a little wider and causes more interesting facts to pop into your head. You enjoy telling him more about the forest, your home, and you somehow feel like you’d tell him anything he wants to know whenever he looks at you.

You like to see his smile, and the way his eyes grow smaller as he laughs or grins at something you’ve said. You haven’t felt this in a very long time, but if there’s anything to compare it to, it’d be eating warm honey straight from the honeycomb, or breathing in a lungful of jasmine scent before drifting off to sleep.

You don’t dwell on it for too long, simply wanting to experience the emotions as they are rather than spend too much time worrying over what they mean. Nevertheless…your idea of Doyoung is quite different from a friend or brother, indeed.

Although it is a Saturday when Doyoung comes to visit you, the sky is a dark and restless contrast to the day’s liveliness, the clouds looking heavy enough to drag down to Earth. He knows it’ll likely rain soon, which means he should probably stay in the castle and keep dry, but he ventures out to see you anyway. Today is the first time in a while he’s been able to see you without Donghyuck by his side, so he’s taking the opportunity.

You’re not in your tree when he comes. He thinks maybe he might go and look for you, but you’ll know where he is faster than he could find you. It takes a few minutes, but as expected, you appear from the further reaches of the woodland, laughing to yourself and holding a ring of flowers. There’s a similar one on your head made up of purple and white blooms. Doyoung thinks you look something like an angel against the sky’s gloom, with a halo made of blossoms instead of light.

“You’re here now? It’s about to rain,” you say, though your tone shows you’re clearly happy to see him.

He shrugs. “I felt like getting some air...I’m not concerned with a little water, as you probably already know.” I wanted to see you, is what he’d really like to say, but he doesn’t want to jump the gun. You nod in understanding, then hold up the ring of flowers in your hand; it has a few blue ones reminiscent of Doyoung’s light orbs. You offer the flower crown up to him, and he bends so you can place it on his head.

“Now you look like a true prince,” you say, smiling in satisfaction at your masterpiece. “I’ve never seen you with a crown until now. That’s a shame.”

“It is a shame.” Doyoung brings a hand up to feel the petals of one of the flowers between his fingers, and he grins. “I’m quite handsome in one.”

“Oh, my prince!” You start prancing around Doyoung and his horse like a fairy, or maybe like a young maiden at a fancy ball, brushing your hand along the animal’s shiny coat as you do. “It’s such an honor for you to grace our forest with your elegant visage.” You finally stop in front of him with a curtsy, though you have to take a moment to readjust your flower crown when it almost flies off at the sudden stop. “What can I have the pleasure of doing for you today?”

Though he laughs at your acting, he’s also a little awestruck for a moment, taken away by your cuteness and humor. Doyoung realizes there’s an awkward silence settling between you as he’s yet to say anything, and he finally stutters out, “There was something I...w-wanted to tell you.”

“What is it?” You come out of your curtsy and stand straight in front of him, all ears open for whatever he’s about to say.

“Well, it’s…” It’s a lot scarier to say what you want when you’re standing in front of someone and not just practicing in front of the vanity mirror. Doyoung is still piecing the words together when a few drops of rain hit his cheek. He doesn’t think much of it at first, but the droplets become impossible to ignore when they suddenly come hammering down without pretense, as if the gods have given word for the heavens’ floodgates to open.

“Come on!” You start running and Doyoung has no choice but to follow, tugging his horse along with him. It doesn’t take long for you to lead him to a small cave he’s never seen before. To his defense, that’s likely because the opening of it is partially obscured by hanging vines and other vegetation. It’s tall enough for someone of Doyoung’s height to stand in comfortably, which he’s relieved by. He doesn’t consider himself to be one of the more uptight royals like many others he knows, but he also wouldn’t be thrilled by the idea of sitting down in a cold, dirty cave in the rain. Even with your haste, though, you’re both quite wet by now.

Though the cave is spacious enough for you two, it becomes apparent that both of you and the horse won’t fit. Instead, Doyoung guides the animal to take shelter nearby under a willow tree with overhanging branches.

The cave is not very deep at all, only extending a few feet backwards. Perhaps that’s reassuring, at least for Doyoung, because there won’t be any disgruntled animals popping out to protest against their space being invaded.

“Well, that was interesting.” You chuckle as you squeeze water out of the hem of your dress.

“Suppose I can’t say I didn’t see it coming.” Doyoung does the same for the ends of his hair, though he knows it will be a while before it gets acceptably dry.

You laugh and nod. “You said you wanted to tell me something. What was it?” you ask.

Doyoung pauses and looks at you carefully, with rainwater dripping off his chin and darkening his clothes. He looks very serious, which is something you haven’t really seen before. It makes concern rise in your stomach, thinking maybe he has some bad news to deliver.

However, you’ve mistaken the intensity in his eyes for somberness when it’s something else entirely.

“I...love you.”

You regard him with wide eyes, feeling a little taken aback. The rain pours noisily in the background, but you’ve heard him loud and clear.

“I know we have only known each other for a few months,” he continues, “but I love you. I want to be with you.”

You’re surprised that he feels this strongly about you already, but it’s also true that you’ve felt yourself falling for him in the past few months, with his thoughtful gifts and kind smile and soft voice. You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, lips parting minutely. He catches the small movement of your mouth, like he notices everything about you—whether you acknowledged it before or not.

Doyoung takes your hand. Though his palm is wet from the rain, you don’t care about that. “I think about you when I’m not here in the forest…and when I’m overseeing my brothers’ lessons. I dream about you when I sleep at night. Every time I get another gift for you, it’s because I want to see you smile so brightly like that again, because of me. I never want to know a day without you.”

You know Eupheme isn’t his home, that he has to leave someday. You know elves don't generally think kindly of dryads, viewing you all as frivolous and foolish and loose; and even if him and his brothers don’t, there’s no telling what the rest of his family thinks. You also know that even without those two things standing in the way, he’s still a prince who’ll need to be married to a suitable bride at some point. All of those things make you nervous. There are many obstacles before you, but you allow yourself to forget them momentarily as you stand in this cave with him.

You bring Doyoung’s hand up to your lips and kiss his knuckles softly, taking what warmth you can despite his cool skin. You hold his hand tightly, like it might be taken away from you otherwise. “Doyoung…you have charmed me unlike anyone else.”

You bring that hand closer and place it over your racing heart, and he seems a bit hesitant at first because of the proximity to your breast, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he readily responds to the kiss you give him afterwards, drinking in your warmth as a balm for the sudden cool air. For a while, there’s only the sound of rain coming down and your lips connecting with each other’s.

You don’t know how long you kiss each other, but there’s nothing else you can do in this small cave, so you continue without thought to the outside circumstances. Even after your lips part, you huddle close together. You close your eyes in Doyoung’s embrace, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and breathing underneath your ears and basking in the fullness of your own heart.

When the rain finally stops, Doyoung has to leave. The sun will be setting soon; the downpour went on longer than either of you anticipated.

“I promise I’ll come back soon,” he says, clinging to your hand with both of his.

“You always do.” You already trust him more than you can say.

Doyoung nods to your words, smiling somewhat bashfully. He steps out of the cave and lets your hand slip from his. But before he can get more than a few feet away, he turns around and comes back to kiss you once more on the lips, his fingertips on your face like he can’t believe you’re real.

You laugh once you separate from each other. “The sun’s getting low, and the others will question you. Go on now.”

Doyoung keeps to his word and makes his way out after fetching his horse, but he keeps glancing back to you until he’s completely disappeared among the brush.

You feel like your mind has been filled with soft moss, all airy and soft and tangled together with unending thoughts. You walk back to your tree feeling as if you could float there instead, enjoying the damp grass under your feet.

The time slips by blissfully.

Doyoung keeps coming out to see you during his free time each week, as he has done since he’s been in Eupheme, though sometimes he’s able to manage more than just one or two visits. On those weeks when he comes out more often, whether it be at night or during the day, you hold him especially tightly, enjoying the extra time with him and wanting to live inside of it—to freeze a moment in time and keep it close to your chest for as long as possible.

“I wish you could see the castle,” Doyoung says this low and close to your ear like he’s telling you a secret. He lies on his side beside you in the grass, playing with your fingers. A gap in the treetops lets a lopsided circle of sunlight shine down on your faces, warming you both from the inside out. “Walk through the maze of land...or see the stable.”

You hum softly. “Hmm...I’m sure it’s nice.” Doyoung laughs, knowing you’re not interested in any place else other than your forest; you can’t hide the neutral note in your tone, though he knows it isn’t towards him.

“Or I could live out here with you.” He strokes the pad of his thumb along the length of your ring finger, and you don’t fail to notice this.

You turn to him, full on grinning now. “I thought you said you’d never want to be tied to one place. Remember?”

Doyoung grins sheepishly along with you. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Mmm, how indecisive you are…if you stay with me here, you can’t ever leave.” You pluck a tiny blue flower from the ground and brush it against his lips, tracing the shape of his cupid’s bow with it. “Make your choice wisely.”

Doyoung purses his lips against the small flower, as if giving it a kiss, and does the same with your fingers as they ghost across his mouth. “I’ve chosen already, princess.”

You lean in to kiss him, and he meets you halfway. The little blue flower slips from your hand. You don’t know if there could ever be a more perfect moment, kissing him like this with the warmth of the sun on your back and your ears full of the sounds of birds chirping and insects purring—and, in the very distance, the lake water running.

You don’t get to bask in the moment for too long, though, before something is interrupting you; and it’s not one of the other women like you might’ve expected.

There’s a rustling and a crash in the bushes, and you whip your head towards the noise, but it’s only a deer—or maybe some other creature—running off. You catch a few glimpses of its brown coat before it becomes obscured by the leaves. You still keep your gaze turned towards the bushes. Though there is nothing else there, you still get the odd sensation of being watched, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

“What’s wrong?” Doyoung whispers, his index finger touching your cheek. He glances at the source of the noise, but his eyes stay mostly focused on you.

“I know it’s odd, but…have you ever felt like you were being watched? Even though nothing’s there?” you ask slowly.  “I’ve…sort of felt like this a few other times when we were together.”

Doyoung looks suspicious for a moment, though he eventually shakes his head. “No, I...not really.” He sits up to look at the same space you’re staring at, but he doesn’t see anything more than you do. “If someone else were out here besides the other dryads and the animals, wouldn’t you already know?”

“I suppose that is true,” you say, though you still look towards the bush, trying to see if there’s something you’re somehow not spotting. The sense that you have a pair of eyes at your back still doesn’t go away, even when Doyoung finally pulls you away from the spot to walk further into the woods.

In the middle of August, the Archduke of Eupheme holds a ball. He has been renown for his exorbitant parties for many years, and although he couches this party in the excuse of making the Crown Prince and his brothers feel a bit more at home in the kingdom, everyone knows it’s really just a reason to get drunk and have some fun. No one would dare complain, though; after all, who’d pass up the chance to attend? To rub elbows with handsome men and women and forget more pressing worries for a while?

The King and Queen of Eupheme see it as a good way for the young men to show off their newly acquired social etiquette they’ve been sharpening during their lessons—and possibly mingle with noble women. Similarly, none of the brothers will object to the latter idea. Except for maybe Doyoung.

“Cheer up! I’ve never seen you look so unsettled when going to a party,” Jungwoo says, pinching Doyoung’s cheek. They’re all loaded into their separate stagecoaches, with Jungwoo, Doyoung, Jaemin, and Mark in one and the other boys inside another behind them.

“I’m fine,” Doyoung insists, waving away the concern and plastering a hesitant smile on his face. He can already guess what’s in store for tonight.

The ride to the Archduke’s place is shorter than Doyoung expected. It’s been a long time since they last visited the Archduke’s mansion, and he swears he remembers the journey being longer than this. He sucks in a deep breath as he steps out of the stagecoach. The mansion looms large up ahead, obviously not quite as big as the King and Queen’s castle, but extravagant enough to be of note. Its stone interior glows with rows of brightly burning torches decorating either side of its grand entryway.

The Archduke’s large ballroom is filled to the brim with high-ranking officials and other nobility, with everyone mingling together in a big glittering clump of bodies and puffy dresses and long hair. There’s no other race but elves there, which is usually expected at royal balls like these; other species are often relegated to roles of servant, cleaner, waiter, and so on.

There’s a notable stir when the King and Queen and the eight men enter, and the room parts down the middle to make room for them.

The men wave and smile and mingle like they’ve been taught to, though some revel in it a bit more than others. They’re quickly embraced by the crowd, and the Archduke and Archduchess come to greet them. A young woman walks slightly behind them, her brown hair pinned up in an elaborate updo, wisps of hair clinging around her elven ears. Doyoung remembers her as their daughter and only child, who was never allowed to play in the yard with them as children because “such rowdy behavior wasn’t fitting for a lady of her sensibilities,” as her mother used to say.

“I’m sure you all remember Eunomia,” the Archduke says, encouraging the young woman to come to the front. The brothers all nod in acknowledgement, answering her curtsy with their own bows.

“You’ve grown even prettier since we were young,” Jungwoo says, smiling politely. The girl smiles timidly back to him.

“Thank you. You’ve become quite handsome yourself.”

“We’re so glad that we could be graced with the presence of the Crown Prince of Ceres tonight,” the Archduke continues. “We’ve all been looking forward to your appearance since we got word of your family visiting Eupheme. The timing, especially, is quite extraordinary, as we’ve been vetting possible suitors for our Eunomia.” It’s everything just short of an actual proposition to marry his daughter, and Doyoung’s lips twitch as a thousand different thoughts flit through his mind.

Doyoung bows his head slightly in acknowledgement of their statement and schools his expression into something neutral and amiable. “Extraordinary timing, indeed.”

It’s not long before the music is rising to a grand swell again. The other boys part ways to search for dance partners in the crowd, and Doyoung already knows what’s expected of him. He holds his hand out to Eunomia. “Would you like to dance?”

She nods and takes his hand. Doyoung leads her onto the main dancefloor beside a few other individuals who have already coupled up. A relatively fast tune carries their feet across the floor like the wind.

Eunomia is pretty, nice, and quiet. She’s too shy to meet Doyoung’s eyes directly—no doubt as a result of her parents’ training—and she lets him lead the conversation the same way he leads their dance. She would make the perfect wife to any other man but him.

Doyoung might have been more willing to pursue something with her if this gathering had happened a year before or even a few months ago, before their visit to Eupheme. Now, he only feels uninterested at best—and burdened at worst—about it all. He’s uncomfortable with the way her hand sweats in his palm, and with how fragile she feels in his hold. His mind keeps drifting back to the forest, though he tries to be present in the here and now.

The next few dances go similarly. Though his brothers and cousins seem to be enjoying themselves with the number of pretty women they have at their behest, Doyoung doesn’t feel the same. He ends up approached by various noblemen throughout the night, all holding some prestigious rank or another and seeking to introduce him to their daughters and insinuate a dance. And of course, being the gentleman and prince he is, how can he say no?

Each of the women is unique in their own way, but still not quite enough to hold his attention for long. He’s already made his mind up about who he wants, though you can’t be with him here now—or anywhere but the forest, really. This knowledge is equal parts comforting and disagreeable. He finally has an answer to the question about whether he’d ever find someone to love, though it turns out he cannot even be with you in an easy, convenient way.

By the time the night ends and the royals are on their way back to the castle, Doyoung is rather tightly wound. His mind swarms with thoughts of everything that occurred earlier in the evening and how annoyed and restless it all made him. Increasingly, he’s beginning to feel like he’s up against a wall that he just can’t surmount. He almost yearns for the days when he unquestioningly accepted his duty and actually received some enjoyment from his courtships, but he’d never truly want to go back. Not if it meant not knowing you.

“Are you okay? You seem upset,” Mark says hesitantly, noticing Doyoung’s tensed jaw as he keeps his face turned towards the window, looking out at the nightscape. Doyoung only gives his brother a quick glance before nodding curtly.

“I’m quite alright.” It’s a lie, but Doyoung doesn’t feel like trying to explain his mood at the moment. Though it’s easy enough for them to guess why Doyoung’s visits to the forest have been so much more frequent over the past month or so—and subsequently, why his mood is so sour now—it remains an open secret.

Jaemin settles back in his cushioned seat, grinning slightly to himself before looking up at Doyoung. “Your name must be on many a lady’s dance card tonight, Doyoung. I suspect every woman at the party had a turn, if not the Archduchess herself.” Mark elbows him in the side, but the younger man doesn’t think anything of it.

“I suppose so.” Doyoung rubs his finger over his lower lip. “But maybe you should be more concerned that the competition is diminishing your chances.” Mark and Jungwoo chuckle at that.

“Not to worry. When the time comes, the only choice they’ll have is me.” The younger two laugh even more enthusiastically, and Doyoung only shakes his head, grinning slightly despite himself.

 Once everyone is settled in for the night, Doyoung waits in his bed for an hour to be safe and then decides to sneak out to see you. Once again, he doesn’t bother with visiting the stable to take the horse, nor does he try to make himself look “presentable,” tired of being princely for the night. The only thing he does is pull on his pants and shoes and button up his shirt halfway before losing his patience and yanking his cloak on.

He uses his glamor to momentarily disguise himself as he passes through Arthenia, though the few stragglers outside don’t pay him much mind.

“Y/N?” Doyoung calls out your name, slipping his cloak to the ground once he gets to your familiar oak tree. He soon hears and sees the fluttering of tree leaves as you descend from the canopy and touch the ground, alighting from the branches as gracefully as if you’ve been doing it your entire life—which you have.

“My, sir. Here at this hour again? What could b—” You don’t get to finish your sentence before Doyoung is gathering you up in his arms and kissing you hard, his forearms wrapped tight around your waist. He picks you up off the ground and you let yourself be lifted, toes barely grazing the grass.

It’s a long moment before you can regain your breath. You look at him incredulously as he sets you back on the grass, pressing his forehead to yours.

“What...what’s got you in such a state?”

“Love,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your lips. You laugh at that, holding his flushed face in your hands.

“It’s a pleasant thing, isn’t it? But really, what is it? You seem tense.”

“I am tense,” Doyoung says, though he keeps his lips close to yours. He’s not really in the mood to go into detail about the evening and disturb what’s currently unfolding between you. “It’s just...royal niceties. They can become quite tiring.”

“That’s a pity,” you reply, though you pause in your next thought when his lips find your jawline and press against it firmly. This is the most intimate contact you’ve had since you met, or since he confessed to you, and it ignites a burning flame in your chest. “Maybe there is something that can help you with that.”

Doyoung pulls back to look you in the eyes, wondering if you’re insinuating exactly what he thinks. You step away from him and tug on his hand, pulling him away from the tree. “I’ll show you.”

You both walk along a section of the forest that Doyoung isn’t familiar with, and he conjures some light orbs to illuminate the pathway. You spend a long time walking—so long that he’s almost afraid he won’t be able to find his way back out. Or maybe he’ll encounter one of those unfriendly creatures that you previously mentioned lives on the outskirts. Wherever you’re taking him is farther than he’s ventured before.

You finally stop when you get near the west edge of the forest. The trees are slightly sparser here, and there’s a path through the middle that trails off onto the bottom of a steep hill. The hill marks the end of the forest and flattens out onto a field of tall grass. He catches glimpses of the grass swaying in the breeze under the moonlight and the light of his own orbs.

That’s far from the most eye-catching thing here, though. Another lake sits before you two, though it’s much smaller than the other one—more like a pond—and forms a nearly perfect circle.

You walk along the grassy bank and pull Doyoung along with you, and he’s surprised to feel heat coming from the water as he gets nearer to it. It’s not a burning hotness, but a comfortable warmth.

“Shall we swim?” You look at Doyoung over your shoulder, letting go of his hand to tug at one strap of your dress. He nods, watching wordlessly as you peel your dress off in front of him. His throat tightens to see you’re wearing nothing underneath. Standing nude underneath the combined glow of the moon and his own blue light makes you look positively ethereal, and Doyoung mentally imprints this image in his mind, filing it away as a permanent memory.

He watches as you step off the grassy bank and get into the pond, the black water lapping at your legs as you wade further into it. He’s still standing and simply observing you as you turn around to look at him and lift your arms out of the water, like you’re asking for a hug. “Are you going to leave me all alone in here?” You give him your best pleading eyes, and it doesn’t take long for him to strip his clothes off and come in after you.

He dips underneath the water’s surface and swims around you, and you giggle as you can just barely make out his form under the water. You can only spot the ripples he leaves behind.

Doyoung’s head pops above the water on the farther side of the pond, with his long black hair sticking to his face and covering his shoulders. It makes his ears stand out more, and you laugh. You swim over to him and he pulls you into him when you’re close enough, your naked bodies molding themselves to each other. You’re about to say something, but his lips quickly envelop yours and you forget any words you formerly had. You kiss for a while in the lake’s warm water, with the full moon and Doyoung’s lights serving as your only illumination.

You haven’t done much else but kiss so far, but you can still feel something hard and warm pressing into your stomach. Doyoung’s lips separate from yours to travel to your neck, pressing against your pulse point and softly sucking the skin there.

You pull away to look at him, your body feeling strangely light and hot all at the same time. “Maybe we should get out of the water,” you say, smiling coyly.

Doyoung nods and scoops you up, carrying you out of the lake and setting you down on the unnaturally soft grass surrounding the waters. It feels almost like a cotton blanket underneath you.

You’re both fully exposed in front of each other now, though you don’t really feel embarrassed about it. Doyoung’s hands are warm as he cups the sides of your face and nudges his nose against yours, teasing you momentarily with the promise of his lips before actually kissing you again.

You like feeling his hair underneath your palm, all wet and slick beneath your fingertips, and you run your fingers through the strands. They coil around his neck and shoulders like little snakes, or maybe vines on a climbing plant.

His member stands against his stomach, already leaking precum from the press of your lips and the warmth of your body against his. You reach out to touch him, tracing your fingertip against a vein and feeling the stickiness of the precum, and Doyoung sighs against your lips. His hands come to your inner thighs, pushing them a bit further apart so he can dip his fingers between them and feel you wet and warm for him.

You gasp sharply when he slides a finger into you. He reaches deeply inside you, his palm rubbing against your clit as he fingers you, and it makes you spread your legs wider and push your hips closer into his touch. You wrap your fingers around him, and you enjoy the pulse of his cock in your hand as you stroke him.

Doyoung soon slips another finger into you, stretching you out more for him, and you moan as he does. You press your mouth against the base of this throat and his collarbones, feeling the firmness of them as you lightly drag your teeth over them. As if by luck, he shifts his fingers a certain way and brushes against that sweet spot that has you leaning further into his body and moaning hotly against his neck.

“Doyoung…” you sigh. He gives you an answering moan as your fingertips slide over his tip, purposely lingering at the slit. Your lips brush against each other’s, not quite kissing but making some semblance of the motion. Despite how good you’re feeling now, with his hand working you up to an inescapable high, you decide you need to have more of him; you need to get as close as possible. “Doyoung, please.”

“What do you need?” he asks, his voice unbearably gentle and breathy in your ear.

“You.” You take your hand away from him to guide his body on top of yours, parting your legs to invite him in-between. You are less preoccupied with foreplay at the moment and just want him inside you, which he has no complaints about.

The firm press of him inside you is unlike anything you’ve felt in the recent past. It’s not like dryads go their entire lives without sexual pleasure—of course, there’s always self-pleasure and the company of other women, and even the occasional agreeable male visitor who comes into the forest—but it’s been a long time since you’ve experienced it delivered by another person’s body. It’s almost strange, but also good and familiar, if only a little painful at first.

You try to breathe evenly as Doyoung seats himself inside you, his hands stroking you so adoringly that it makes you lose your bearings. Him leaning forward to kiss you only takes more of your breath.

“Is this good for you?” he asks quietly. You’re not quite sure what part of it he’s referring to—him inside you or his hands strumming along your breasts and clit—but you nod enthusiastically. Everything he’s doing feels undeniably good. Just when you think it could not get any better, he pulls out a bit and starts thrusting into you. His pace is slow, allowing you to adjust, but it’s enough to make you cry out loud, gripping his slick shoulders for support.

Doyoung brings himself close to kiss your lips again, grinning against your mouth. “Shhh, my princess. If you’re too loud, you’ll wake all the others.”

You nod against his wet forehead, breathing heavily, though it’s a bit hard to keep yourself quiet as he fills your body over and over again. You press your thighs tight against his hips, feeling the muscles in his body flex as he thrusts into you. His movements create a slick sound between you, and the lewd quality of it entices you more.

While one of his hands slides slick and slow across your clit, you grasp the other and bring it up to your lips, kissing his fingers like you did the day he told you he loved you, and then nibbling on them, sucking them into your mouth. Doyoung twitches inside you when your mouth tightens around his fingers, and he groans into the night air. You’re reluctant to let his hand go, but you do it so he can leverage himself enough to dip his head lower and give more attention to your breasts, drawing his tongue across the round firmness of them and catching your nipples in his mouth.

He angles himself a bit differently so he can find your spot again and concentrates on repeatedly pushing into that sensitive part of you. His attentions bring you to your climax soon, and you can barely quiet yourself as you come around him. The pleasure seems never-ending, like it’s pouring into you from a bottomless well, and small tears bead at the corners of your eyes. Doyoung cups your face and kisses your tears away, and you hold the back of his head as he does.

When Doyoung gets close, he slips himself from inside you and thrusts in between the tight space of your thighs, his tip rubbing across your stomach. He comes soon after doing this, his seed pooling on your skin, some of it running into the grass.

You both lie in the grass after the aftermath, with Doyoung pulling you so you can lay your body on top of his. His heartbeat is still fast; you hear it hammering in his chest as you rest your head against his breast. You close your eyes and let the sound of it calm your own restless body.

After a few long moments of listening to the insects and night creatures making their midnight songs, you stir from your position on his chest and draw yourself up. “Doyoung…” you murmur, straddling either side of his waist so you’re hovering over him. You press your lips against his and he responds with a slow kiss. You can practically feel how satisfied he is as his lips push against yours, like a drunken sprite who’s gotten into a cup of ale.

You depart from his lips and trail your mouth over the rest of his body until you’re level with his softened cock. It jumps a bit when you grasp it, and Doyoung groans softly; his voice increases slightly when you press your lips to it, still tasting the remnants of his salty release and your own pleasure. His hand comes to hold the back of your head as you take him into your mouth, licking the shaft and feeling his balls in your other hand.

Though he was the one who’d hushed you earlier, now he has to choke back his own moans as you suck him and stroke your tongue around his tip.

You draw your mouth away from him, and a trail of spit follows your lips. “Does this feel good, my prince?” you ask, still stroking him languidly to keep his pleasure stoked. You know it does, but you want to hear it from his mouth anyway.

“So good.” He makes a noise between a whimper and a groan, and it travels straight to the apex of your thighs. His stomach tenses with his strained breaths as you take him back into your mouth, focusing your attention on the leaking slit.

His thighs tremble when he gets closer, and as much as you’d like to have him come in your mouth and drip over your chin, you decide to pull away and straddle your legs around his waist again. Doyoung whines needily, though his complaints are quickly forgotten when your sex slides over his slick shaft. He waits with bated breath as you grab the base of his member and line him up with your entrance, pushing him into you as you sink down on him. Feeling him part your walls makes your legs shake a little, and you readjust your posture so you can maintain your stability.

You seat yourself fully on top of Doyoung and let him press himself up into you as you push back down on him, your hands scraping for purchase on his chest. In this position, you can control the pace and ride him just so that his tip is pressing into your most sensitive spot.

Eventually, you lean forward with your mouth covering his. Another orgasm approaches you fast, and you pant against his lips as you search for that release again. “I love you,” you moan softly, trying to muffle your sounds with the touch of his lips.

Doyoung’s hands roam your body, coming up to palm your breasts and thumb at your nipples. “I adore you,” he whispers.

This time you both come within moments of each other, moaning into each other’s mouths. Doyoung pushes himself into you until you’re leaking over him once more, and then he hurriedly pulls out and comes across your thigh, leaving trails of white dripping down your skin.

Doyoung knows he’ll need to get up and get dressed at some point—and begin the long trek back to the castle—but he doesn’t think about that right now. He just pulls you closer and enjoys the warm stickiness of your bodies together, the lukewarm breeze stirring his hair, and the gentle grass tickling his skin.

“You don’t seem like yourself lately.”

Jungwoo brings this up to Donghyuck during one of their archery lessons as they sit beside each other underneath the sun. The younger man was noticeably not as concentrated or effortless as he’d usually be, and many of his arrows ended up being off-mark, if not missing their targets entirely.

Currently, they both sit in the grass after their instructor called for a break earlier, stating that they needed some time to cool off and pull it together—Donghyuck in particular.

“I’m fine,” Donghyuck grumbles, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. If he could close his ears, too, he would. Unfortunately for him, his brother doesn’t take that as a sign to stop talking.

“That’s doubtful. Really, what’s chafing you? I know all the lessons can be annoying, but there is nothing we can do about that for now.” The younger man doesn’t answer at all this time, but Jungwoo continues on. “I know Doyoung isn’t with us during our breaks as often as he was before, but isn’t that a good thing? He can’t tell us what to do all the time.”

Donghyuck groans, wiping his hands over his face at the mention of their older brother. Jungwoo perks up at this. “Oh? Is it something with Doyoung that’s bothering you? What is it?”

Donghyuck is quiet for a moment longer. When it’s clear Jungwoo won’t leave the matter alone, he turns to face his brother fully, looking at him more closely. He hesitates for a moment before finally saying, “What would you do if you wanted something you couldn’t have?”

Jungwoo thinks for a moment. “I don’t know. It depends on what it is. Maybe the logical answer would be to just give it up and stop indulging a fruitless case.”

Donghyuck sighs, hanging his head. “Of course. But what if...alright, what if it was a person? Someone you’re particularly fond of. And…they just make you feel as if…if they looked at you once, you wouldn’t hesitate to hand them anything they could ever want. Then would you give up on them so easily?”

Jungwoo’s eyes widen, and Donghyuck thinks he must’ve said too much. Before he can speak to try to defuse the situation, Jungwoo says, “Don’t tell me you’re still upset about Nayeon. I’m sorry Donghyuck, but—”

“Ugh,” Donghyuck pushes himself to his feet, taking up his bow and arrow again and walking off to one of the targets farther away from Jungwoo. “Nevermind.”

After Donghyuck gives a few more unsuccessful tries, the instructor decides to dismiss them early and encourages Donghyuck to keep his head clear for their next session. “I am well aware of what you’re capable of, Donghyuck, and I know you understand your own abilities. Just look at it as simply having an off day, but do try to keep your concentration next time.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies, already feeling drained even though they’re only halfway through the day. The walk back to the castle with Jungwoo is quiet, though crossing the ample landscape gives him plenty of time to think to himself. What you’re capable of...Yes. What is he capable of?

Maybe there was still a way to alter the course.

“You’re particularly quiet today,” you remark, studying Doyoung’s face. You’re both sitting in the small clearing where you and the other dryads often gather at night, only it’s daytime now and the other girls are off doing their own things. Deeper among the woods, you can hear their laughter from a distance.

Doyoung came to visit you with a solemn look, and though you can tell he is still glad to see you, there’s also a tinge of disquiet beneath it.

A strong gust blows some strands of hair into his face, and you brush them away before he can do it himself. He turns his head and stares at you as you do, his eyes big and imploring and brewing with a distress you can’t place. “Actually, you seem to be a bit different since...that night,” you continue. Your face warms at the thought of your first time together, and how Doyoung took you in the grass and whispered sweet adoration to you. “Is something wrong?”

Doyoung’s lips part like he wants to speak, though he remains silent for a few moments more. Then he says something that nearly makes your heart stop, the words coming slow off his tongue. “I want to give up my title.”

“Your title? As Crown Prince? How can you do that?”

“I could do it,” he says, his voice still low. “There’s no law against it. It might be...dishonorable. No, it would certainly not be…” He pauses, then abandons whatever he was about to say. “But there’s no law to stop me.”

“But why? I thought you liked being royalty, at least to some degree. Your station in life affords you many things others don’t have.”

“It doesn’t afford me you.” He grasps your hand where it lies in the grass. “We can’t be together if I’m still Crown Prince. If I walk away, though...”

You’re also quiet now, unsure how to respond to a declaration like this. For Doyoung to give up his royal title for you...it’s a much bigger implication than you think he’s really considering.

“But, the throne...you’re the heir, and it just…” You’re almost desperate to come up with at least 100 reasons why he can’t do it, though you aren’t sure why. Maybe you’re too afraid to hope it could be possible, even if it’s the slightest chance.

“I have six other brothers. Any one of them could...” Doyoung falters, remembering Yuta’s and Sicheng’s controversial parentage, and then sighs but tries to remain hopeful. You look at him with wrinkled brows, worry crowding your heart. You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, looping his arm with yours.

“I don’t know if they’d ever agree to it,” you say it almost inaudibly.

“There’s no way to know if we don’t try…” Doyoung replies, hugging you tightly to him. “I don’t care about giving up my title.”

You shake your head. “There are so many other things to consider, Doyoung.”

Doyoung knows you’re worried and doubtful, but he holds you close to him and kisses your temple and tries not to think about those things. He only wants to think about all the good things the future could hold for you.

A small grin appears on his face as he wills his mind to drift elsewhere. “How many children would you like to have?” Doyoung asks suddenly. You give him an incredulous look, though there is a grin of your own slowly taking over your lips.

“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want children.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “As long as I’ve been on this Earth, I’d have them by now if I wanted them.”

“Then it’d be just the two of us forever?” Doyoung pulls you so you’re both lying down and entangles himself with you, his head on your chest. He listens to your heart, a steady rhythm that lulls him into a sense of sleepiness. “That’s fine with me.”

You feel a tug at your heart, like the chambers are contracting in pain. “Yes, an eternity together.”

Despite your many doubts and questions, you have a warm dream that night. One of you and Doyoung living in the forest together, running through the hills, jumping across creeks, and enjoying each other’s company to your heart’s content.

Donghyuck knocks on the door of the King’s sitting room, his palms sweating as he waits for a response. Sicheng stands beside him, quiet and waiting to see if the man will respond. The King of Eupheme may be a long-term friend of their father’s, but Donghyuck can’t help the slight fear he feels whenever he’s in the man’s presence. Something about him has always been a little colder, more unforgiving, and more unyielding than their own father is.

“Who is it?” The man’s voice booms from behind the door.

“It...it’s Donghyuck and Sicheng, Your Highness.” Donghyuck’s voice wavers a bit as he speaks, and he tries to suppress the tremors in his speech. “We’re here for our...meeting.”

“Come in, then.”

Donghyuck turns the doorknob and enters the room, closing the heavy door behind him and his brother.

“Well, then. What is the pressing matter you have to inform me of?” The King raises one eyebrow, looking skeptical about whether Donghyuck has anything to report or not, though he waits patiently for the boy’s response.

The elven King’s presence seems impossibly heavier in this singular room, filling every corner of the space and physically weighing down the Earth’s gravity. Donghyuck almost doesn’t know what to do with himself in response to this force. Sicheng is less affected by it—or better at hiding it—though his face creases minutely. Donghyuck ends up speaking without thinking clearly about what he practiced prior.

“D…Doyoung is courting a dryad.”

“A...what, boy?” The King slowly leans forward, his sharp eyebrows drawing together, one hand coming up to stroke his long beard. They both know that he knows full well what a dryad is, but he seems unable to comprehend what Donghyuck has just blurted out. Or maybe he thinks the younger man is lying.

“A-a dryad, Your Highness. He’s been using his assigned free time—and sneaking out at night—every week to see her, in the forest beyond Arthenia. H…he’s even thinking of asking to be relieved from his title to be with her.” Donghyuck feels sweat gathering on the back of his neck, as if he’s the one about to be punished.

The King’s brows furrow even more, though this time his eyes hold a hint of rising anger. He leans back in his seat again, holding Donghyuck and Sicheng with a hard stare. “These are quite damning claims to make. Where is your proof?” Before either one can respond, the King continues on. “He will doubtless be questioned, but I would think that both of you have ample reason to try to sabotage the Crown Prince—especially you.” He directs his gaze to Sicheng at this, and Sicheng’s face falters. “A whore’s son will always believe he’s owed more than he’s worth.”

Disgust and hatred rises up in Sicheng’s chest at being regarded like this—always as less than his half-brothers—though he tries not to let his rage show. His jaw clenches as he speaks, keeping his tone measured, and it takes him a long moment to force out a proper response. “We indeed have proof…Your Highness.”

“If you’ll allow us, we need a mirror, Your Highness,” Donghyuck adds.

Still with a skeptical look on his face, the King waves his hand towards a small round mirror hanging on the east wall, sitting formerly unacknowledged despite all its ornate trappings. Sicheng walks over and takes it off the wall, coming back to stand in front of the King with it. Donghyuck comes up behind Sicheng and lays a hand on the back of the older man’s neck, pressing his index and middle finger where his brain stem would be. Donghyuck closes his eyes and concentrates, while Sicheng keeps his own eyes open, staring into the depths of the mirror and his own reflection.

In the mirror image, his eyes turn a foggy gray. Donghyuck’s memories flood into his mind as if they were his own, experienced with his own five senses; he can almost smell the forest grass and feel the sun burning his skin. Sicheng then takes his right hand and presses his fingertips against the mirror, forcing it to bend to his power and replicate what he’s seeing in his mind’s eye.

When the image becomes steady, Sicheng holds the mirror up to the King and lets him see what it displays; you and Doyoung lying in the grass together, with you dragging a tiny blue flower across his lips. Doyoung tilting his head up to accept your kiss. You looking straight ahead, trying to figure out why you sense a disturbance in the forest, only to see a deer—and missing the invisible form of Donghyuck staring at you and your lover from the bushes. Your conversation is hard to hear, consisting of mostly vague echoes, as if you were speaking underwater—channeling sounds is harder than conjuring up images—but there’s no need for words to understand what’s going on.

The King’s eyes are a windstorm of emotions at this point, a close rival to the actual stormy gray of Sicheng’s eyes as he reveals the memory. He is silent for an excruciatingly long moment. Still, he continually strokes his beard in a repetitive motion, though his gaze displays the true anger burning beneath the surface.

“And where is Doyoung right now?” he finally asks, after it seems like an eon has passed. Then he waves his hand sharply towards the mirror. “I’ve seen enough of that.”

“He has no duties to attend to as of right now, so he must’ve gone to the forest,” Sicheng responds. Donghyuck takes his hand away from his neck then, stepping back in a jerky motion as he tries to regain some of the energy spent from transferring the memory. Likewise, the mirror image fades once Sicheng takes his hand away from the glass, and the normal brown of his irises bleeds back into his eyes. “To see her again, no doubt.”

The King nods, pressing his fingers together into a steeple, his thick rings glinting in the light of the room. “Just as you say, the matter is quite grave. The King and Queen of Ceres will have to be notified immediately...and it will be handled accordingly.”

Donghyuck and Sicheng nod to the King’s statement, shooting each other looks out of the corners of their eyes. Donghyuck feels a small sense of triumph at knowing his brother will likely be sent back to Ceres soon—or at least, forbidden to see you anymore—even if he knows deep within that he shouldn’t be reveling in Doyoung’s impending heartbreak like this.

“Unfortunately, it also cannot be forgotten that you two, and all your other brothers, withheld this information for months.” The King blinks slowly. “I must also assume that my sons have been swept up in concealing this utter nonsense, to some degree. Those transgressions will be dealt with accordingly as well.” He draws the last sentence out to emphasize his claim, though the men have already heard him clearly. The tiny smirks they allowed themselves to show quickly fade.

Donghyuck feels as if he’s just had a bucket of cold water poured down his back, and Sicheng’s fists curl tightly around the mirror.

Donghyuck is the first to respond, bowing his head. “A-as necessary, Your Highness.” Sicheng lowers his own head after the younger does, though with noticeable reluctance.

The King waves his hand as a signal for the two men to leave, though he still looks thoughtful for reasons neither of them could guess. “You are both dismissed.”

Sicheng is fuming once they leave the sitting room, though Donghyuck’s anxiety manifests itself as tense silence, which is a true rarity for him.

“Look what your impulsiveness has gotten us into this time,” Sicheng gripes once they’re far enough away to not be heard. Donghyuck reawakens at that and shoots his brother daggers with his gaze.

“I didn’t think we’d get punished, too! And if you thought it was such a bad idea, you should’ve never agreed to it!”

Sicheng shakes his head, scoffing. “It’s neither here nor there anymore. Whatever comes of this had better be worth it.”

“You’d better hope,” Donghyuck continues. “Like we don’t know you’d sell us all out to have Yuta, your favorite brother, as the Crown Prince instead of Doyoung.”

Sicheng whips back around to Donghyuck. “I’d think he’d deserve it more than any of you ingrates who’ve had everything handed to you. You could never even imagine what it’s like to have to fight and scrape for an iota of respect among your own family.”

Donghyuck wants to scream something childish and hurtful back at him, but he’s lost on what to say. They all know Sicheng and Yuta have always been a bit separate from the rest of them despite their best efforts to make them feel included, but he hadn’t realized Sicheng felt quite this forsaken. The King’s earlier words certainly don’t help. Donghyuck has enough conscience left to feel guilty, though he refuses to acknowledge that aloud now.

When Sicheng sees that Donghyuck doesn’t have a response, he nods in vindication and stomps off.

After Doyoung returns to the castle that afternoon, the atmosphere in the castle is notably more tense. It’s as if storm clouds have gathered in the rafters, waiting for the perfect time to rain down hell. He senses this acutely, though he can’t quite understand the reasoning for it.

Donghyuck is uncharacteristically quiet today, and Sicheng is similarly reserved. Jeno, Jisung, and Jaemin conduct their business as usual, though there is a certain stiffness to their auras; the kind of careful and cautious demeanor you learn to adopt when living under the constant presence of a ticking timebomb. Mark and Jungwoo, who accompanied Doyoung on his visit to Arthenia and the forest, remain just as clueless as him about what’s wrong, though they also feel uncomfortable underneath the weight of the tension.

The air stays this way for hours, including during their nightly dinner. The Queen and King don’t do or say anything out of the ordinary, though Doyoung can feel the King’s eyes on him as he eats. The sensation of being watched makes his stomach curl into a ball, and his heart kicks up like a drum at the thought that pops into his mind. Maybe he’s been found out? But how? He’s been as careful as he knows how to be. He doesn’t truly believe any of his brothers would tell, and his cousins have been too disinterested in the affair to go stirring up trouble behind it.

Their three cousins eat quietly with their eyes glued to their plates, wondering what could be the cause of their father’s anger this time. They’ve known him long enough to pick up on the telltale signs of his rage, even when not openly expressed.

It’s nothing short of a relief when dinner is finally over, though Doyoung’s blood turns to lead when he hears the King’s deep voice booming from behind him. “Doyoung. Come with me.” The other men shoot him varying looks as they file out of the dining room, though none of them say a word. Donghyuck throws him a concerned glance in an attempt to remain unsuspecting, though there is a slight unsteadiness in his step.

By the time he gets to the King’s sitting room, Doyoung’s heart is beating overtime. He stands in front of the older man with his spine ramrod straight and his lips tucked into a thin line. The King doesn’t even acknowledge his presence for a few moments, simply stroking his beard and looking at some spot in the distance. Doyoung can’t decide if this is worse than being pinned under his gaze or not, though he quickly gets his answer when the King finally looks at him.

“Do you understand your position as Crown Prince?” This is not what he expected to hear first, though it fails to ease his anxiety.

“Of course, Your Highness. It’s a high honor, and one that requires a certain discipline.”

“Then why have you allowed yourself to become quite so undisciplined in your activities?”

Doyoung doesn’t know how to respond to this at first. He blinks rapidly and sweat breaks out over his skin. “Activities?” he stammers out, his mouth drying up.

“You’ve allowed yourself to be enamored by a woman who is so low she must live in the forest like an animal and forage for food. And you think this behavior is becoming of a man of your station?”

The room appears to spin. If his heart was hammering before, now it stops momentarily. Doyoung feels like he’s just smashed into a stone wall head-on. “Your Highness...I…”

“Have you lain with this creature?”

“Sh-she’s not...I…”

“Have you? Do not lie.”

Doyoung thinks of your hands on him and feels sick at such an intimate moment being forced out into the open like this, in such a cruel manner. “Y…yes.”

The King shakes his head, his frown deepening even more, if that’s possible. “And is there any chance that she could be with child now?”

Doyoung can’t remember ever feeling this humiliated, flayed open for all to see. “No. I was...careful.” The King pauses for a moment, like he doesn’t quite believe Doyoung’s claim. He doesn’t ask any further questions about it, though, and Doyoung doesn’t know whether to be concerned or relieved about that.

“Understand that you are infinitely lucky that you are not a woman, Doyoung, and can remain relatively unsullied by such acts. Nevertheless, I would’ve thought your father would’ve raised more diligent sons than this.” The King leans forward, and it seems like the Earth itself shifts with this movement.

“Then let one of the others have my title,” Doyoung blurts out, finally finding his voice again. “Yuta or Jaehyun. It doesn’t matter who it is.”

“Yuta isn’t getting anything,” the King spits. “Do you mean to make a complete mockery of your family? Your kingdom? To have a bastard sitting on the throne? Your father is a noble man, but laying with whores has resulted in the two biggest mistakes of his life.”

Doyoung’s head swims, and he has to bite back the first response that rises to his mind. “Your Highness, you’re correct in noting that I’ve made a grave error. Perhaps I’m truly not suited for the role. Don’t you think having my title transferred would be the best way to remedy that? Jaehyun is fit to be the Crown Prince. He can take my title, and I—”

“And you can do what? Live in the forest with the rest of the dregs?” The King draws himself up in his chair, and the action reminds Doyoung of a big brown bear attempting to intimidate a trespasser in its territory. His muscles turn rigid with fear. “It would behoove you to abandon this insane talk if you don’t wish to make the consequences worse for yourself. I’m not your father, boy, but as long as he’s left you under my care, I won’t entertain such dishonor on his behalf. ”

Doyoung wants to continue protesting but also knows that, just like you told him, this appears to be a fruitless case. He lowers his head as his stomach twists and his body tenses up further with the fear of what will come next.

“As you can expect, there will be no more visits to the village or the forest, if you can exercise no more self-control than this.”

Doyoung blinks rapidly, though there are no tears coming. “Will you send me away?”

“That would only draw more attention, which is the last thing we need to do. You are simply to remain in the castle until it’s time for you all to return to Ceres. Barring any more royal events, you will not be going anywhere further than the front lawn.”

Doyoung says nothing to this. To speak or nod would feel like sealing his own fate, though it’s already been chosen for him.

“You are lucky, Doyoung. Remember that. It is easier than you think for all of this to be forgotten, swept under the rug, so you can return to your homeland with your title and dignity intact. See—we do not even need to let your mother and father know. In a year from now, you will be wed, and this will be nothing but a regretful—if vague—memory.”

Still, Doyoung does not respond, his tongue heavy and immobile.

“You are your family’s honor. The consequences will not be as harsh for you...as long as you obey.” The King’s body relaxes now, as if all the day’s tension has suddenly unwound itself, though this is more of a false sense of security than any true calm. “Is that understood?”

Doyoung’s throat burns. It seems like he’s being pressed in on all sides. Not answering the King is not an option. Not seeing you again is not an option, either, if he wishes to preserve any iota of happiness on this Earth. Here it comes, now—the wetness gathering in his eyes and the tightening of his chest.

“I understand, Your Highness.”

It has only been a few days since Doyoung last saw you, but this alone feels like centuries to him, especially with the King’s order trailing him like a cement block tied to his leg.

He doesn’t intend on following it, regardless of the consequences. Maybe he’s not thinking straight anymore, but nothing else matters as much as you to him now.

There isn’t any way to easily get to you, though, considering the guards that have been stationed outside his room every night. And the other guards who follow him around the castle nearly 24/7 now. His glamors only grant him enough leeway to disguise his face, which is no use in making it out of his doorway undetected.

The stress of it all nearly makes him physically sick.

His brothers and cousins are not guarded quite so constantly as he, but they are similarly forbidden from leaving the castle—lest they try to report back to you with a message from Doyoung, or something similar.

Doyoung still does not know how the King found out and has had no free opportunity to question his brothers and cousins about it. In the back of his mind, though, the idea that he could’ve been betrayed lives constantly among his thoughts. Thinking on it for too long makes the back of his mouth taste sour, but he can’t help the festering sense of distrust he feels towards everyone around him.

Frayed and at his wit’s end, Doyoung finally thinks of an idea after an entire week of missing your presence. It’s a lot to ask for and may not work, but he needs to at least try it once before ruling it out. He has to be careful about it, of course, to avoid being found out by any of the watchful guards. Still, he manages to write a note during an etiquette lesson with his brothers, when the guards are standing outside the room. It’s easy enough to disguise his pen’s movements as him simply taking notes.

When the instructor looks down to read something from his book—squinting harshly even in his glasses, for his lack of sight—Doyoung slips the piece of paper to Mark. Mark gives him a questioning glance, though he says nothing. He only opens the note towards the end of the lesson, which is probably for the best because he makes a startled noise after reading it. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed by the instructor who is too busy listening to Sicheng answer a question he just asked him. Mark’s eyes burn into the side of Doyoung’s face, though the older man only gives him a sparing glance and returns his attention to his papers.

 Mark and Doyoung don’t get to talk formally until their next set of archery lessons. Only one of Doyoung’s guards is present that day, and he hangs back far enough outside of the archery range that it’d be difficult to hear their conversation, especially with them talking in low tones. Doyoung is the first one to initiate once their archery teacher becomes preoccupied with showing Jungwoo and Jaemin the technique for a trick shot.

He glances over at Mark after letting his arrow fly, then turns slightly toward him as he grabs another from his quiver. “Mark.”

The younger man’s eyes widen a bit at hearing his name called. “What?” he answers full-voiced, which causes Doyoung to give him a glare. Catching onto what’s going on, Mark throws an anxious glance behind them to the guard and to his left to the instructor, but no one pays him any mind.

“The note.”

Mark makes a face as if he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then quickly tries to relax his expression. “Doyoung, I don’t think…is this really a good idea?”

“I need to see her, Mark,” Doyoung hisses.

Mark’s eyebrows crease. He takes a moment to shoot his arrow at the target, not wanting to come off as suspicious to the others by just standing there. “I’ve never created a portal like…between Donghyuck’s room and mine, back at our castle? Yes, that’s perfectly fine. But from here all the way to the forest? That’s…” The younger man shakes his head, biting his lip.

“You have to try,” Doyoung begs. “Practice it or something. All you need to do is create one to get to my room, and then to the forest. I don’t care if it takes you a while, as long as I can see her again before we have to go back.” He does care, but at this point, he figures it’s better to have something than nothing.

Mark gives Doyoung a long look, shakes his head again, and then nods. “Okay. Okay. I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee anything.”

Doyoung presses his lips together and nods. His eyes are desperate, though he tries not to be. “It’s okay. Just try, Mark.”

Mark spends the next few days in the library in-between lessons. Though he hasn’t taken much interest in this part of the castle before now, he finds himself pouring through old, dusty books in search of something that can help him find a way to create a long-distance portal.

One of the books he finds describes simply just concentrating all your energy into your hands and putting it forth to open up a rip in space—which he is already capable of, but that doesn’t help him with projecting it out further. Another contains a weird chanting verse that he tries to pronounce, to no avail. Even if it did work, he wouldn’t know how to say it.

However, he eventually happens upon something that catches his eye.

“The Root Chakra serves as the foundation of your body and soul. Only when you are firmly grounded in your current body, space, and time can you begin to manipulate other spaces in time…whether it concerns generating long-range portals through space manipulation or even accessing different moments in history.”

“Opening the Root Chakra, huh?” Mark laughs to himself quietly and shakes his head. Despite being a magic user since birth, along with the rest of his brothers, this is the first time he’s heard anything of the sort. But it’s better later than never to learn.

Perhaps he’s more invested in this scheme than he should be, for both his and his brother’s sakes, but he also knows that he hasn’t seen Doyoung so fulfilled and joyful since discovering the forest. If his efforts can make a bit of difference in Doyoung’s current sunken mood, Mark is willing to try.

Therefore, he sets to work on “opening” this purported Chakra, keeping his practice to late-night hours to ensure he won’t be walked in on by anyone else. He feels a bit awkward at first, maybe even a little foolish, with “meditating” and trying to reach out to some strange energy inside himself. He’s never had to put much thought into creating portals before; it’s just something that happens as he wills it. He never considered that there might be more to the practice—that he’d need to tap into some kind of extra energy to improve his skills. He thinks back to the magic crystals in the marketplace and wonders if they’d be any help in this situation, though there’s no way of finding out.

Mark practices opening portals within the floor, knowing his room is above an empty guest room, as it’s too risky to try any of the walls; Jisung and Jungwoo sleep in the rooms on either side of him. He is soon able to make his portals wider than before—where they used to be the width of only his palms—which allows him to peer more clearly into the empty room below, though he still hasn’t tried to conjure anything farther away than that.

Once he feels he has more control over his energy, Mark soon begins experimenting with visualization, a technique the book cites for conjuring up long-distance locations. Allowing his energy to concentrate in his hands, he places his palms just above the floor of his room and pictures a place he’s fairly familiar with by now—the library. If it goes as planned, he’ll have created a portal to the library; if not…who knows what will be on the other side.

He feels the energy flow through his body, from his core, up his back, across his shoulders, and down his arms…it gathers in his palms and fingertips and triggers a small rip in time, which he gradually coaxes open wider, all the while visualizing the library as clearly as he can. Mark pushes the portal open a bit wider still and opens his eyes slightly to see if it’s worked. He’s dismayed, however, when he still sees the empty guest room sitting below him. A heavy sigh leaves his body, and it pushes the rest of his energy out with it; the portal closes with a silent snap.

Guess he’ll just have to try again.

The next few tries work similarly, and on those nights, he often ends up climbing into bed feeling discouraged and sapped of strength and wondering if he’ll ever get it, or if any of this is worth it. He keeps at it, though, for Doyoung’s benefit. And also partly because he’s curious to see what he’s capable of; now that he’s opened these floodgates, he needs to see how far he can push himself.

The first real hint of success takes him by surprise. It doesn’t happen quite as cleanly or perfectly as the book says, but something happens. When Mark opens his eyes that time, he’s still looking at the guest room—but now there appears to be a faint afterimage of the library merged with it, as if someone had tried to paint two different pictures at once. It’s not a complete location shift by any means, and he doesn’t try to go into the portal—afraid he might somehow get stuck between two realities—but it’s a start.

Improving on that start requires a little more time. More hours of meditating, reading, pushing his energy out and expanding it, visualizing. The afterimage begins growing clearer all the while.

On one blessed night, Mark opens his eyes, and the library itself is sitting below him. Not a faint representation of it, merged with some other room of the castle, but the actual library. He’s so surprised that he almost closes the portal by accident and has to steady his concentration to keep the energy flowing. Carefully, he sticks one hand through it. Then the other. It is still hard to keep the entrance open without physically guiding it with his hands, but he can manage it for a minute or two.

He looks at the long distance beneath him to the floor, with nothing but a lounge sofa to break his landing. Sweat breaks out on his skin, but he takes a moment to steel himself and take a deep breath. Then, he jumps through the portal feet-first, bouncing clumsily onto the sofa and tumbling onto the floor. Just as quick as he can right himself, he hurries behind the sofa to hide, afraid he might’ve alerted one of the guards with his rough landing. The portal has already closed above him with the loss of directed energy.

Mark waits for what feels like forever, his legs burning from holding the crouch, but no one comes. When he’s positive it’s safe, he places his hands on the floor and this time tries to create a portal back to his room. The spacetime-rip flickers briefly as if it won’t work, and a surge of panic rises in him, but soon it displays the sight of his bed and the nightstands on either side. A sigh of relief leaves him, and he jumps through the portal as smoothly as he can, landing on his bed this time.

Now, he is ready. He hopes.

The end of September—and the end of their stay in Eupheme—approaches. By that time, it has been weeks since you and Doyoung have seen each other. The one bright spot, though, lies with Mark.

Mark passes Doyoung a note during another of their etiquette lessons. The older man doesn’t wait to open it, though he keeps a watchful eye on the instructor as he does.

I think I’ve done it. Let’s try tonight.

Doyoung sucks in a breath and slowly lets it back out. Then, he crumbles the piece of paper up and shoves it into the pocket of his pants. He gives Mark a small nod, and Mark returns it before facing the teacher again as if nothing has happened.

Even though Doyoung had already given Mark instructions for how to create the portal, he is a bit unsure what to expect that night. He sits on the edge of his bed fully clothed, his hands clasped nervously together as his eyes dart all around the room, wondering where Mark will show up at.

He soon gets his answer when a teal ring of light manifests itself on the east wall of his room. It remains small only for a few moments before widening out enough to accommodate Mark’s form as he steps through it. Mark himself looks a bit shocked at what he’s just accomplished, even though he’s been doing it for a good amount of time now. Doyoung leaps up from the bed, about to speak, though he winces and remembers they still need to be mindful of the guards outside his door.

“You really did it,” Doyoung whispers, watching in awe as Mark closes the portal to his own room behind him.

“I did,” Mark affirms, and he can’t help but grin a little. However, his smile slips. “There is one thing, though.”

Doyoung’s stomach drops, and he can only imagine what this caveat will be. “What is it?”

“Well, once I’ve created the portal, I’ll have to keep it open,” Mark says. “Otherwise, I won’t know when you’re coming back…since we can’t communicate. But…I’ll only be able to keep energy flowing into it for about 15 minutes, maybe less, so…”

“…so make it quick. Right?” Doyoung replies. He is not surprised. Not because of any lack in Mark’s abilities, but more because this just seems to be the kind of luck that’s afflicted him as of late. Mark nods sheepishly.

“Just…be aware of the time,” Mark says, giving Doyoung an apologetic look. The older man only nods silently and steps back as he lets the younger do his work. Mark walks over to the wall he just came from and places his palms against it, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and concentrating. He holds the image of the forest entrance in his mind’s eye and shifts the power out from his hands and to the wall, opening up a gap in space as the portal widens.

Doyoung’s heart rate picks up as he sees that familiar forest entrance forming in front of him, still crowded with overgrowth and greenery. He steps over to Mark to see it closer, and he can even feel the cool night air brushing past his skin as he peers in.

Mark opens his eyes and nods for Doyoung to go on, and the older gives him a nervous smile. “Thank you.”

Indeed, the forest on the other side is the exact same one he’s been visiting for the entire summer. The same dirt underneath his feet, the same trees crowding each other in. For that reason, he doesn’t waste any more time with rushing inside, heading straight for the oak tree.

There’s an indignant sentence waiting on your lips when you hear Doyoung crashing into your forest late that night, not having seen him in weeks. You’re hurt, but you also realize there must be something serious going on back at the castle if it’s taken him this long to get back to you. However, the words die when you see the pure anguish on his face as he bursts out of the vegetation.

You slip out of the oak tree to meet him on the ground, and he scoops you in his arms like he did all those weeks ago, though this passion is now charged with fear. “Doyoung, what’s happened? What’s the matter? What has kept you so long?” you ask worriedly, taking his face in your hands.

Doyoung holds you close and simply buries his face in the front of your dress for a long moment, breathing in your scent and absorbing the warmth of your skin. Though you are terrified and confused, you wait for him to calm himself enough to speak to you.

“I can’t anymore,” he says, his voice low and broken. Your heart drops at this.

“Can’t what?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

“The King has forbidden me to come here—I shouldn’t be here now, but Mark...Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You hold Doyoung tighter against you, as if you could both become one being if you concentrated hard enough—wished hard enough. Your head throbs with the hurt of it, and your heart feels as if it’s being cleaved in two. You don’t say anything for a while, biting your lip so hard that it nearly bleeds.

“I tried.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Forgive me. I tried.”

“There’s no one to blame,” you argue, breathless from the vise pinching your heart and lungs. “I think we both knew how this would end…”

“I don’t want it to be this way. Y/N, forgive me. I should’ve never told you anything…perhaps if I’d kept my feelings to myself, we wouldn’t be in this mess now. You could live happily as you were, and I—”

“Don’t. Please don’t. I wouldn’t trade our time together for any living being…not even the gods.” You shake your head as tears begin to slip down your cheeks. Doyoung tries to wipe them away, though tears of his own escape without his permission. “It may be selfish, but…I-I just ask that…p-please don’t forget about me when you leave and start your own family.”

Doyoung takes a deep, shuddering breath and presses your head into his chest. “I could never,” he whispers.

He thinks he’s safe in your arms, and you safe in his. That’s what he’d like to believe, as you sit here together in the forest for the last time. Unbeknownst to him, something in the castle stirs and then bursts to life, violent and red-hot with rage.

Mark, on the other side of the portal, waits. He feels his energy weakening the longer he holds it open, but he does so anyway as nervous sweat gathers on his temples. He wants to call out to Doyoung to somehow warn him of the time limit, but remembers that the guards will hear it if he does. So he remains silent and waits impatiently as the end of the 15 minutes approaches.

However, he can’t wait any longer as the time ticks past. His magic flickers once, as does the portal, before disappearing completely. Mark nearly keels over at the loss of energy and has to catch himself as quietly as possible, bracing his shaking hands against the floor. He pushes himself up a bit and sits on his knees. He thinks desperately to himself, I should make another portal, but he doesn’t have enough energy for that at the moment.

The next move he makes is a costly one.

He reaches into his pants pocket for his pocketwatch, which he remembered to bring with him. He intends to see how far it is past the time they’d agreed Doyoung would come back, and how long it might take him to regain enough strength for another portal, but his shaky hands cause him to drop the small watch. He tries to grab the chain, but the movement is too sudden and clumsy and causes the watch to bounce even farther away from him, skittering clear off the rug and onto the hardwood floor.

Mark swears all his organs stop functioning at once when he hears a knock on the door. It’s quiet at first, and the silence is deafening. He thinks about scurrying up into the bed and lying there to pretend like he’s Doyoung, still asleep and not out in the forest, but his legs are locked with fear and lingering weakness. The second knock is more forceful, and the guard doesn’t wait for much longer before jamming his key in the lock and swinging the door open.

Mark whips his head around, and they both stare at each other dumbstruck for a moment. The guard’s gaze lingers at Mark in confusion, then quickly sweeps over to the empty bed. His eyebrows draw into a furious expression. “Where is the Crown Prince?”

Doyoung’s heart squeezes painfully at the thought of returning to Ceres without you, his brothers going on with their lives as normal despite his own secret heartache—and it’s only then that he realizes he’s lost track of the time. He jerks away from your arms, looking around frantically. “Wait—Mark.”

“Mark?” you repeat, confused.

“I…he made a portal so I could get here, but I was supposed to…shit. Come on.” Doyoung takes your hand and you both rush to the forest entrance. When you get there, though, there’s no portal and no Mark. Doyoung’s grip around your hand tightens. 

Though you aren’t totally sure what’s going on, a sudden dread overcomes you. “What happened to it?”

“He probably had to close it, but…I’m sure he’ll open it again once he gets his energy back.” Doyoung’s voice is uncertain, though, like he’s trying to convince you both. You look at the side of his face and try not to voice your fears, but as you both stand there waiting to see if the portal will reappear, it becomes apparent that something has went wrong with the plan.

“Explain yourself.”

“Your Highness…I…um…” Mark’s mouth is too dry for him to properly form words, and his legs shake where he stands. Not because of having his energy sapped—because of the King’s overbearing presence. The King stands in front of him, not even bothering to go to his desk this time, and Mark has to crane his neck a bit to look at him, though he can’t meet his eyes. “It was just…”

“I won’t ask again.”

Mark shakes his head and pulls at his hair, silently begging Doyoung for forgiveness in his mind. Still, he doesn’t say anything to give his brother up, keeping his eyes averted more out of fear than deference. “Please, Your Highness…I just…”

When the King sees that Mark won’t give a direct answer, he scoffs in disgust, sweeps the younger man out of the way, and heads for the door. Though Mark only moves a few inches, he feels like he might as well have been thrown clear across the room. The King speaks to one of Doyoung’s guards, who was standing just behind Mark. “Call the rest of the guards. I’ve exhausted my patience on the matter; these lecherous whores cannot be allowed to continue defiling my kingdom.”

“Wh-what does that mean?” Mark’s small voice is lost to the air as the King leaves the room without a glance backwards. The guard goes to enact his order, while the other one grips Mark tightly by the upper arm and drags him out of the sitting room. “N-no, wait, what’s about to happen?”

The guard yanks Mark’s arm in a gesture that calls for the questioning to come to an end. “Best keep quiet, boy. You and the Crown Prince have gotten yourself into enough shit tonight.” Then he chuckles. “One of these days, he was bound to find out that everyone won’t keep coddling him and wiping his ass. About to lose his title over some pussy. Quite sad, isn’t it?”

The guard’s words—and the realization that none of them have ever really cared about Doyoung’s wellbeing beyond being his hired watchdogs—sets Mark off. “Shut the fuck up!” Mark spits in his eye and stomps on the man’s foot at the same time, and the guard curses and lets him go for a split second. Mark doesn’t wait. He takes off down the hall, unsure where he’s going but knowing the castle is big enough to lose the guard—as long as he doesn’t run into anyone else.

He just needs to get somewhere where he can have enough time to create another portal.

“This can’t be good…” you finally say. You and Doyoung must have a death grip on each other’s hands right now, but neither of you are willing to pull away.

Doyoung shakes his head slowly. “No…it’s been too long. Maybe I-I should go back. Maybe if I go back willingly now…” He trails off, not knowing what could come at the end of that sentence.

“Doyoung, no. I…please don’t leave me.” You feel mentally torn between sending him away and knowing this is the last time you’ll see him versus having him stay here with you, if only for a few minutes more. At this point, you’re not sure what the right answer is anymore.

“They might come looking for me, Y/N, and I don’t want them coming here disturbing the forest—"

“Stay! You can hide somewhere, I…as the keepers of the forest, we’ve been handling ourselves against intruders for years. We can protect ourselves—and you. If they come, you can hide out here until they leave. Please, stay.”

Doyoung cannot say no to you or your pleading eyes. He nods. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen after all this—if he wants to go back to the castle, or if he’ll even be allowed to return. He doesn’t know what they’ll do to him in retaliation, and even the vague idea of it frightens him. Having his title removed is one thing, but the King of Eupheme is far more vindictive than that.

You and Doyoung only make it to the small cave you’d hidden in on that rainy day before you hear the distinct sound of another pair of feet crashing through the woods. You both whip your heads around, though you also grab Doyoung’s arm and pull him under the cover of the willow tree. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and you are too frantic to be able to sense who this new person is; though the question is quickly answered by a sharp whisper.

“Doyoung! Doyoung?”

“It’s Mark,” Doyoung hisses, his eyes widening. He slips between the tree branches and softly calls Mark’s name. In another few moments, the younger man is standing under the tree with you both.

“What happened?!” Doyoung asks, holding onto the younger boy’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Doyoung.” This is all Mark can say, and the words roll off his tongue repeatedly. He hangs his head. “The King knows, and he’s sent the guards to come here—I don’t know what he’s going to do, but—please believe me. It doesn’t sound good. He’s done being reasoned with.”

You and Doyoung look at each other with trepidation gripping your chests, realizing the stakes are much higher than you anticipated. This does not sound like just another case of “unwelcome intruders,” but “unwelcome intruders with bloodlust on their minds.”

“But—I can create another portal. I’m sorry, the last time, I just—but I can make one now. Come with us, please.” The last sentence is directed at you, and you shake your head.

“And go where? They’ll still be waiting for me at the castle. Are you suggesting we run away from Eupheme?” Doyoung’s voice is not reprimanding, but more incredulous than anything else.

Mark’s hands shake at the idea of turning his back on his family, which is something he’s never had to consider before—not even in the slightest sense. Things have gotten much more out of hand than he could’ve predicted.

You shake your head again, your hand slipping from Doyoung’s. “Just…I’ll stay here and help the others. You should go.”

“Y/N, I...” Doyoung’s throat tightens as he tries to speak, but his thoughts are disrupted by a quickly mounting commotion. The sound of hooves beating in the distance, though getting increasingly closer. The shouts of men who are ready to wage a battle, with fire racing through their veins.

Though most of Arthenia is asleep at this time of night, the noise of the horses’ hooves and the soldiers’ shouts is enough to begin waking the townspeople up out of their beds. Faces press against windows and peep out of doorways to see what’s happening.

The villagers are terrified when they see a group of soldiers adorned in the royal insignia and riding on horses enter Arthenia with lit torches in their hands, thinking their homes are about to be destroyed. However, they become even more confused and frantic when they quickly realize this band of men is paying their properties no mind and heading straight in the direction of the forest instead.

Some of Arthenia’s magic-wielders rush from their homes to try to put a stop to the men once they understand the situation, and the orcs and ogres meet them with brute force alone. The guards are met with a fight fiercer than they expected, even with their torches and daggers, not realizing the villagers could be so battle-hardy.

The King watches the battle ensuing in Arthenia from a hilly vantage point above the small town. The guards have failed to make much more headway against the villagers, who are gradually inching them back towards the village entrance. Shaking his head in disgust, the King pulls on his horse’s reins. “If you want something done, do it yourself.”

Some of the townspeople notice the King’s appearance just before he rides into the village. A few of them falter and cower in fear, finding the nearest exit point and taking their leave. Some others, incensed at their town being threatened and generally filled with rage at the King’s lack of fair leadership, decide to charge him head-on. They’re quickly extinguished, though, when the King conjures a great sphere of fire in his hands and whips it across them without a second thought.

He does the same to any other Arthenians who attempt to challenge him as he cuts a path through the village, uncaring of the land and homes he sets on fire as he does. A couple of the guards hop back on their steeds and follow him to his ultimate destination.

The King drives forward into the foliage. The women of the forest are armed with their own heavy rocks and sharpened arrows and daggers dipped in poisonous berry juice, though their weapons can barely leave their hands before everything is suddenly being enveloped in a wide swath of fire, meted out by the King’s hand. He leaves a path clear for himself and the guards in the middle, but the trees on either side are sent up in a blaze.

The two guards remain in single file behind him to use his fire as a shield and avoid the sharp rocks and poison-dipped darts zooming past their heads. Perhaps they’ve underestimated these tree-dwellers; already, there have been a few scrapes that were too close for comfort with the jagged edge of a rock or two. The guards light up as much greenery as they can as they go, using their torches to ignite leaves and low-hanging branches.

All around them, there are the sounds of Arthenians and dryads screaming in tandem as their homes go up in flames. A few nymphs lie fallen among the grass, unmoving as their tree homes burn up in the night.

The King, who has had the foresight to bring his shield, keeps it steady in front of him as he blasts fireballs out from behind it, lighting up one group of trees after another. He doesn’t know which one belongs to you, but he is willing to burn down the entire forest to find out. His movements are wilder than they’d normally be, which says a lot even for him, who has previously had no trouble slashing down anyone who stood in his way during battle—even if they were innocents.

“Doyoung!” The King shouts, and he whips up a great blanket of fire. He sends it careening up towards the sky like a shooting star, and it lands high among the tree canopy, heavy and far-reaching enough to burn treetops several feet in every direction. The guards become a bit wary at this, as the flames blaze above their heads and send sparks and burning debris flying down. “Doyoung!” His voice shakes the leaves like thunder. “If you do not wish to burn alive with these forest dregs, show yourself now!”

Doyoung’s spine stiffens as he hears his name echoing through the woods. It comes from a distance behind you all but is still too close for reassurance. If you stay in this spot for another few minutes, the King or one of his guards could be right on top of your heads.

“Come on!” Doyoung pulls your hand tightly as he helps you up the edge of a steep grassy incline, Mark supporting you from below. Though you’d be able to make it up there any other time by yourself, you don’t dare deny the help now. Your whole body feels like a live wire of fear and panic; the forest burns around you, and the encroaching smoke threatens to choke all three of you to death. Most of all, you feel devastated to see what’s happening around you, being essentially powerless to stop it. Nothing of this degree has ever befallen your home before; even the rare small blaze could be easily enough snuffed out. But not when the flames are being stoked and encouraged like this—building upon each other to see which can reach the tallest tree or the farthest edge of the forest.

After you reach solid ground, Doyoung drags Mark up behind you. There’s no time to pause after all three of you are on the ground; Doyoung grips your hand again and Mark follows behind the two of you as you run.

“The tree, the tree, the tree…” These words spill from your lips in a frenzy. Though your tree hasn’t been touched by the flames yet, it’s only a matter of time with the forest rapidly catching on fire. You can still feel the deep anguish of every other tree in the forest as their trunks catch fire, their leaves shrivel up, and the water evaporates from their root systems. Their silent screams and the shouts of your fellow dryads ring in your head loud enough to make you fear that your skull will split.

“Where are we going?” Mark asks, covering his nose with his sleeve and coughing profusely at the smoke all around.

“Out of the forest!” Doyoung shouts back. He doesn’t really know where to go except for the edge of the woods, and you aren’t in a state to tell him where to head. Deep down, he knows you want to turn back and go to your tree. The oak tree lives innately in you and you inside of it, and it calls you to come back, but the path is too dangerous; returning to it would only speed up what appears to be progressively inevitable. The King and his guards are somewhere in the forest behind you all, and turning back would only land you right in their hands or in the tendrils of the fire.

One of the guards feels a tinge of nervousness grow as the fire rages on around them, and he decides to try to reach out to the King. “Your Highness! I will go in search of Doyoung. Perhaps we should fetch him now before some danger befalls him; the fire is spreading exponentially.” The King gives him a signal to depart, though his eyes still burn just as brightly as the flames do.

The guard separates from the King to cut a path diagonally through the woods, going off to find Doyoung. The Crown Prince may have disobeyed the King—which is as good as committing treason against the kingdom—but it would still not look favorable for him to have died in a fire started at the King’s hands. However, the King is too far engulfed in the whirlwind of his own rage to consider these things more deeply.

The other guard stays by the King’s side, though his horse nervously shifts in place at the flames all around. The two men come to a stop in a wide and messy half-circle of fire, their backs to the flames as they watch the woods ahead for any signs of approaching creatures—or Doyoung himself.

Unbeknownst to the King, your oak tree sits only a few feet away in a yet-untouched portion of greenery.

A few leaves suddenly fall off a tree up ahead—too sudden to merely be caused by the wind—and this makes the King whip his head around and raise his hand to unleash more fire. Nothing appears from that spot, however, and the leaves remain as still as they were before. That moment of hesitancy costs him.

A small poison-tipped dart shoots from the leaves, catapulted by the force of a sudden, expertly-timed breath through a wooden blowgun. It lands squarely in the King’s open palm, which still faces the tree. A shout bursts from his throat in response, and it is only then that the guard realizes what’s just happened.

“Your Highness—!”

The shock and pain of the sudden assault causes the King to strike out in delayed anger, sending a wave of fire at the row of trees ahead of him—and a little further beyond, your oak tree in its small, grassy clearing. The dart burns up in his palm as he does, but its sharp point has already broken his skin. His reaction, though hampered by a few seconds, doesn’t afford Cassia much time to do anything but watch as a wall of feverish red and orange overtakes her, but her last few thoughts linger with you—where you might be within the forest right now, and if she could see you again in some faraway afterlife.

You’ve always known you would die when your tree finally did, but you weren’t sure what you expected it to feel like.

Certainly, not this kind of great reckoning—a sensation of every living element simultaneously being drained from your body. It feels like the core essence of your being has been cracked like an egg and is now flowing out endlessly, laid to waste in the grass. The sudden weakness that eclipses you makes it so that you can barely move your legs to continue running, and you collapse to the ground.

Mark nearly trips over your fallen form, but he quickly finds his voice and screams for Doyoung. The older man is already turning around, however, at feeling your hand slip from his. He rushes to you immediately, his eyes growing wide as he tucks his hands under you and scoops you into his arms.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, please! Y/N, please, no!”

“Doyoung…”

“No. No! I’m begging...please, stay with me.”

Tears spill from his eyes in an endless torrent. You would like to touch his face at least once more, and you are infinitely glad—if not also heartbroken—when he grabs your hand and holds it to his cheek. His tears wet your skin, running down your palm.

“I…I already told you not to forget me, so please…”

“Y/N, I’ve got to get you out of here…” Doyoung says desperately, and he struggles to make it to his feet. His legs tremble too much to support him, though, and his shoes slide in the leaves and dirt underfoot. Mark stumbles backwards, his back hitting a tree trunk as his muscles tense in horror at the scene in front of him.

“D-don’t. Leave me here.” Even saying this much feels like a massive effort.

“What?”

“Th-the forest and I are one in the same. I live and die here. Please…do this one thing for me, Doyoung.” You look at him imploringly with as much strength as you can summon despite your eyes growing heavier. Beyond the smoke, the cloudiness of your own tears, and the pull of death, it’s becoming harder to see; his features blur amid your surroundings.

Doyoung is quiet for a moment, though he slowly nods, gripping your hand tightly. He lowers his forehead to yours, and through the smoke and fire, he swears he can still smell the scent of jasmine. “I love you, Y/N.”

“My prince…” The corners of your mouth rise in a tiny smile. “I love you.”

The Crown Prince keeps his forehead against yours, his tears raining down on your cheeks long after you’ve gone limp in his arms.

Mark slumps to the ground, feeling as if his stomach will turn itself inside out, his heart hammering in his chest. He tries to breathe evenly, though his chest tightens painfully from the attempt. Eventually, he buries his face in his hands, trying to physically shut out the ache. He’s not sure how much time passes like that, with him and his brother immobilized on the ground, but he does know they need to leave, soon, as the air around them grows more stifling.

“Doyoung…D-Doyoung, we need to…w-we should…” Mark’s voice cracks, coming out weak in the roar of the noise around them. He coughs again, then shuffles to his feet, leaning on the tree for support.

Doyoung looks up at him without a word, his face streaked with tears and dirt. Then, slowly, he unravels himself from you and lays your body gently on the ground. He shuns his cloak to cover you with it, though part of him desires to stay here and perish with you instead of leaving only a portion of himself behind.

Him and Mark travel a few more yards through the woods, and though he’s never seen this part of the landscape before, he can guess they might be nearing the edge of the forest. The trees have begun thinning out here like they did at the small circular lake.

“Wait—" Mark calls out. Doyoung doesn’t bother looking back at Mark, but he can hear it too. The sound of horse hooves increases in volume, and they soon see one of the guards riding towards them, torch still in hand.

“Crown Prince! Prince Mark!” he shouts. “Come with me immediately!”

Doyoung looks frantically towards the ground. A sizeable rock catches his eye, bigger than the palm of his hand, and he picks it up. Without a second thought, he launches it at the guard’s face. It catches the guard on the left side of his face with a sickening pop, causing him to yell out in pain and fall from his horse. His torch falls from his grasp, starting yet another small fire where it lands.

With its rider gone, the horse slows its pace, though it does not stop. Doyoung catches it by the reins and is able to bring it to a pause long enough for him and Mark to get on. Everything else falls away from him as he guides them towards the forest’s outskirts; he barely feels the wind whipping past them, the lingering smoke stinging his eyes, or even the sturdy animal racing underneath him. He has a brief thought about what happened to those dangerous animals you said live on the outskirts, as there are none here now, but he reasons that maybe they’ve already made their own escape.

The sky is turning lighter now from the approaching dawn. When they finally breach the last row of trees in the woods, they come out onto an expansive field, only broken up by stray trees here and there and other landforms. On the far horizon, another town looms against the sky, though it’s much bigger than Arthenia.

Doyoung signals for the horse to stop, and both he and Mark sit there for a few long moments. Mark sucks in a few deep breaths, as if he were the one running this entire time. 

“W-what…what now?”

Doyoung doesn’t answer at first. Then, quietly, he asks, “Are you coming?”

Mark doesn’t know where his brother intends to go, but he wordlessly understands that it isn’t back to the castle. Or even Ceres. He swallows against the lump in his throat.

“I…I have to see the others.” He means their brothers. He means their parents back in Ceres, if he is even allowed to live. He is not sure what the King will do to him once he returns—if he’ll be tried for treason. Still, his chest burns with the desire to see his siblings at least once more.

Maybe that’s how he justifies it.

He’s not entirely sure why he refuses Doyoung in this moment, even when he thinks back on it years from now. Maybe he is too ashamed of the guilt—of feeling like it was all his fault. (If he hadn’t dropped the stopwatch…) He doesn’t want to serve as that constant reminder for his brother.

“Can you get back, then?” Doyoung asks. Mark realizes he’s referring to creating another portal, and he nods, though somewhat hesitantly.

“Y…yeah. I can.” He swallows again and hesitates for another moment. Then, Mark dismounts from the horse and looks up at Doyoung. “Where…where will you go?”

If the older man has already planned his route, he doesn’t disclose it. He simply looks at Mark with an expression that can only be described as pitiable, broken. His eyes are red-rimmed and his skin is ashen. “Goodbye, Mark.”

Mark stares at his retreating back as he leads the horse away and across the field. The space between them stretches out into forever, with a million unsaid thoughts and emotions falling in the gap.

Behind him, the forest continues to burn, taking all life with it. In front of him, Doyoung’s form turns into a speck against the endless green. It is a long time before Mark leaves that spot in the grass.

In the castle, Donghyuck slumps against his window as he watches smoke rising in the far distance, already knowing where it’s coming from. Like a mirror image of his older brother, tear tracks make their way down his face as he buries his head in his arms.

“What have I done?”

[emergingsentiments]

Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha: Episode 10 (Repost)

Loneliness must have drawn you back here, says Hwajung to Chohui. But these could have been words for Dusik and Hyejin, too. The past and current entanglements of Gongjin’s love affairs, after all, run parallel to each other. For Chohui, her mother’s death and her brother’s migration left her solitary, so it only seemed natural to return to somewhere familiar. Hyejin, on the other hand, visited the seaside town to reclaim the memory of happier times, when her mother was still alive. Dusik’s reasons are still obscured but the glimpses into the wakes he’s stood vigil by are compelling reasons behind his return.

Home, as I observed in the first episode of Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha, is where the heart is and the hurts are.

Episode 10 unfolded like the turning point that it is. As the previous chapters tackled the inner workings of all our characters, especially the progress of Hyejin and Dusik both as individuals and in their romantic engagements, we saw how people began to confront their fears. Whether it’s Cheonjae’s anxieties as a has-been singer and as a single father to a rebellious Juri or Gamri’s quiet suffering in her empty nest, the melancholy that undergirds the town’s surface pushed each one to face their scars and losses. For all the comic relief she brings, even Miseon had to brave confusion and rejection.

In this page of Gongjin’s tale, however, the theme of battling life’s greatest antagonist is truest among Dusik, Hyejin, and Seonghyun.

Poor Seonghyun, so new to the town yet so quick to have been thrown into the maelstrom of Gongjin’s charms and tragedies. His greatest fear was being late. He missed opportunities before, including in the postcard-perfect moments of his youth. Always an observer but never the one observed; always watching over Hyejin but always a step behind others in the line. If he were dancing, he’d be out of rhythm, too busy trying to memorize the choreography.

He has rehearsed his lines a thousand times. Will they come out right? Here, Lee Sang-yi gives Seonghyun his most graceful and yet graceless moment. Making an abrupt u-turn on his way to Seoul, he returns to Gongjin — late once again. Hyejin, attacked by a wandering sexual predator in town, has been saved by Dusik. If the shock of the night’s crime were not enough, he confesses the next evening to a Hyejin that had just mistakenly implied her growing affections for Dusik. She’s just had dinner, too.

Full and formal, Hyejin listens to Seonghyun’s lonely and tense confession. Sangyi delivers the lines Seonghyun has held onto for years. It’s a speech marked by jitters, fretful glances, and a slowly growing blush. Once out, he tries to stop the tension by marking the scene as a take. But the clapperboard humor isn’t enough. Hyejin watches him eat alone. She has no appetite.

Hyejin, for her part, couldn’t be blamed. She never really saw Seonghyun other than a senior to be admired. Yes, he’s saved her from a jerk before. But years of absence have made the heart grow duller instead of fonder. She’s also just come from an equally awkward dinner with Dusik, who is celebrating his grandfather’s death anniversary. There is no room for another meal. The night before — the night of the attack — she had slept in Dusik’s home for the third time as well.

At the first visit to his home, she kissed Mr. Hong on impulse and alcohol. On the second, she carried the weight and fears of an inebriated Dusik. On the third visit, she is traumatized from the night’s break-in, so now slips in to Mr. Hong’s clothes and stays over, unable to sleep unless Dusik’s around with poetry. He reads to her...It is my job to fall in love with you while waiting for you the next day. The antidote to Hyejin’s fear, after all, is Gongjin’s son.

But what does Hyejin fear? Well, it’s simple. She fears what she lost — her childhood, to be who she is. As a young girl who lost her mother, she had to grow up fast given her father’s alcohol-tinged coping mechanism. As a young woman, she had to build walls after a harsh rebuke of her lowly appearance. So she covers her scars with pretenses — and fancy shoes. Her clothes are her walls. Her life has been planned out. She steers this career with distinct professionalism and ambition. But it’s never ruthless. A woman-child, her core reveals a soft, compassionate heart.

This is what Dusik brings out in her. It’s not something Dusik necessarily gives. The two, after all, have their losses but they are whole persons, too. Dusik’s unconventional lifestyle and ways have eroded the surface of Hyejin’s fortress. Like salted sea slowly breaking down cliffs. With Dusik, she regains the lost child, the one who laughs when pieces of crab meat are flung to Dusik’s face. If that was Seonghyun, Hyejin would have been profusely apologetic and formal. But Mr. Hong is different. Around him, Hyejin can be unguarded, vulnerable.

Dusik, on the other hand, always saw her in a different light. Carrying the weight of unexplained grief, Dusik knows exactly what’s hidden behind Hyejin’s front. But for all his bravado, he’s afraid, too. The people he loved the most have left him, leaving him with an unimaginable sense of guilt. It’s what keeps him tethered to the idea of boundaries. He only likes Hyejin as a friend. But his eyes, his actions — they speak otherwise. If he admits to loving Hyejin, then the prospect of fresh losses cripple him. He’s an engineering graduate, so he has made the calculations. And yet, this strange woman who has returned from a childhood memory is urging him to take those risks and forget those probabilities.

He took a stab on the shoulder, one that nearly cost his life. Isn’t that love — or even the semblance of it? Why does Dusik need to certify his affections with assurance? Gamri, Gonjin’s wisest daughter, sees through Dusik’s barricades. Life’s brevity, she says, demands risks but most of all, honesty with oneself.

These are words worth ruminating in the evening breeze at the town’s breakwater.

It’s the same place where Hyejin finds him.

After a trip to Seoul to forget the town’s powers over her and Miseon, she realizes the city’s offerings were no longer attractive. Everything reminds her of Gongjin. She can’t stop thinking of Dusik. As a grown-up, Hyejin had sought security. Her instinct of self-preservation made her hard. Drenched in a sudden downpour in Seoul, she remembers her rain-soaked self with Dusik at the beach. It is enough for her to understand.

These realizations surge from Hyejin’s adrenaline-filled confession. Unable to deny her growing affections any further, she takes the plunge.

The child faces reality with simple acceptance. In the presence of a vulnerable Hyejin, things freely move and are themselves. The effects are immediately clear. Like any sensible woman, Hyejin knows Dusik could all but reject him, too. Who drives back from Seoul to rant about love, right? But Dusik understands. The hours waiting for her return were sooner than he had anticipated. But the man had made his calculations. The formulas are no longer useful.

True to himself, Dusik fulfills his new duty. It is my job to fall in love with you while waiting for you the next day. So he returns the confession with the most reasonable declaration: a kiss, first tender, one that leaves Hyejin breathless. He speaks but yearns for more. So he lets his lips touch hers for a second time. A kiss now free from all the tentativeness of the night.

A few weeks ago I read several criticisms about Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha. It’s cliched. People only watch it because the actors are popular. There’s nothing exceptional about a love story.

Cliched, true. But there is a reason why there are cliches because they are true. Do people only watch because the actors are popular? Perhaps. Perhaps not. A love story doesn’t hold a candle to the more intellectual and uncomfortable narratives available for consumption, right? You know, the stories that deal with war and violence, politics and its lack of virtue, the more profound tales that explore humanity or its degradation. But I fear this is an effort to leave the commonplace, the domestic, and the personal materials unattended for the sake of what seems profound. Yet, the production of these “better” and more profound stories does not offer any solace from suffering.

For over a year now, we’ve been fighting the wrath of an invisible virus. It might even be true to say that for many of us, we’ve lost someone dear, someone deeply loved. If not, we know someone who has dealt with these losses. Given the lockdowns and restrictions, even grieving has been abbreviated. Our reality is sobering. We fear many things. So while I don’t hold it against people to choose the more elevated tales, it would be a shame to dismiss those who gush over a love story as uncritical and frivolous.

Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha resonates with and appeals to many because it reminds us of the things we’ve lost to the pandemic. Face-to-face conversations. The stability of a job. Family. Friendship. The pat on the back. Our grandparents. Our first love. A hand to hold. Dinner with friends under the warmth of incandescent light. Office conversations. Senseless chatter. The thrill of falling in love. The smell of the sea, and the sand on our feet. Our best friend. The normalcy of a leisurely walk. Dancing in the rain. People. Our community. The words we wanted to say. A kiss.

In a world where physical intimacy and closeness are dangerous, we feel our lips with our fingers watching Hyejun and Dusik kiss. And we remember the way we were. Kim Seon Ho was right in saying Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha is a healing drama. To love and be loved, after all, remains the ultimate catharsis.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey steph!! This might be a specific ask but could u like recommend me some fic thats like slow burn, unresolved sexual tension, and some bottomlock. And please please please let it be long so that it hits the sweet spot of satisfying your fic needs but also not stupidly long. Also I love your blog

Hi Lovely!!

AHHHH I’m glad you enjoy!! I try my best, LOL. 

AHH I’ve SO MANY slow burn fics, it’s ridiculous, and I do have separate lists for bottomlock, so I can direct you to those.... BUT I DON’T HAVE A LIST FOR MY U.S.T. FICS YES. So can I do that??? Please??? ANY EXCUSE TO START A NEW LIST :| Hee hee. Forgive me??? 

AND as per usual, all my fics are in word-count order, so you can start at the bottom and work your way up, hee hee. CHEERS!

As usual, add your own, friends!!

First, here’s the lists you asked for:

Love Confessions / Slow Burn / Dev. Rel. (Fluff Version)

Falling In Love / Slow Burn / Dev. Rel. || [MOBILE POST] (April 2019)

Platonics & Domestics Pt 2 / Hugs, Cuddles & Kisses Pt. 3 / Tooth-Rotting Fluff Pt. 5 / Love Confessions, Slow Burn & Dev. Rel. Pt. 2 / Established Relationship Pt. 3

Slow Burn / Dev. Rel. / Falling in Love Pt. 3 (Nov. 2019) 

Slow Burn / Dev Rel. Pt. 4 (Apr 2020)

Bottomlock (April 2019)

Bottomlock Pt 2

And now, check out my UST/URT list :)

UNRESOLVED SEXUAL / ROMANTIC TENSION

The Other Shoe by thewaitwasworthitlove - (NR, 1,053 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst, URT, Post-TSo3) - Sherlock realizes how deep in love he has fallen for John. Only Sherlock Holmes would manage to be more shattered than crystal dropped on concrete.

Clarity by socomessnow (thoughtfulwishing) (NR, 1,283 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Tarmac Scene, Stream of Consciousness, URT, First Person Present Tense, Implied/Referenced Drug Use) - During-and-post-HLV piece tracking Sherlock’s thought process from his phone call with Mycroft to his return to the airfield. Part 1 of Rifts

Untouchable by greengrapegaze (T, 1,368 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-S3, UST/URT, Oblivious John, Lonely Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Emotional Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – “He never would. Petty, childish, immature-bitter. Jealous. She had all that he wanted. All he could never have.” Part 1 of Steps to a Bittersweet Symphony

Love Hurts by Grac3 (T, 2,215 w., 1 Ch. || Magical Realism, Pining Sherlock, One-Sided Pining / URT, Sherlock / John Whump, Angst, Ambiguous Ending) – In a world where someone's physical injuries manifest themselves on the person who is in love with them, John didn't think that there would ever be anyone who was willing to risk falling in love with him - until he got shot on a case, and it didn't hurt. Unrequited Johnlock.

The Dance Lesson by bittergreens (G, 4,596 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Missing Scene, Dancing, Pining Sherlock, URT/UST, Romance, Angst, POV John) – Sherlock teaches John to dip. Part 1 of Goodnight, Vienna

There's Something Living in These Lines by teahigh (orphan_account) (M, 4,676 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, Love Letters, Angst, Mutual Pining, UST / URT, Dirty Talk) – Two men, complete opposites in almost every way, who speak only in letters and pages torn from books.

You Can't Always Get What You Want by hubblegleeflower (E, 4,804 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Sexual Tension, UST / RST, First Time) – John wants. He always has, but now that he's living with Sherlock again, it's all he can do to hold it back. And Sherlock isn't helping...

Wasted Hours by songlin (E, 4,973 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || O!John/A!Sherlock, Pining, UST, Angst & Porn) – John is respectful. John keeps his distance. He doesn’t look at Sherlock when Sherlock decides trousers are for dull people. He doesn’t breathe in and savor it when Sherlock flings himself onto the couch first thing in the morning, wafting alpha scent, dressing gown settling around him in a cloud of blue silk. He doesn’t linger when he’s piecing Sherlock back together after a fight, even though he’s half-dressed and beautiful and right there. He can ignore it. He can control it.

Captain John Watson, Genetics, and Other Crazy Things by cyerus (M, 5,581 w., 1 Ch. || Torchwood Crossover ||  Humour / Crack, Jealous Sherlock, Sexual Magnet John, Captain John, UST / RST, Three Continents Watson) – The explanation for John "Three Continents" Watson? Jack Harkness is his father. Sherlock doesn't know whether he's going to die from jealousy or sexual frustration first.

No Light, No Light (in your bright blue eyes) by orphan_account (G, 5,915 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Pining, Songfic, Mutual Unrequited Love, Unresolved Tension, UST/URT) – Relates to both Sherlock's and John's feelings for each other and highlights select moments of hurt and inner turmoil starting from right before the fall all the way to HLV.

Drawstring by May_Shepard (E, 7,412 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3/TAB, Friends to Lovers, UST/RST, Fluff and Smut, Post-TAB, John POV, Sherlock’s Pyjamas, Rimming, Wanking) – John is bothered by Sherlock’s slowly-falling jim-jams… as in hot and bothered and he is trying to deal with a sexy dishevelled Sherlock while also keeping his pining in check.

High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, POV John, Embarrassed John, Adorable Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you're coiled like a spring and ready to be ... sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don't mean anything. Let’s drop it.”

Alone On the Water by Mad_Lori (G, 7,725 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, UST/URT, Angst, Euthanasia, Love Confessions) – Sherlock Holmes never expected to live a long life, but he never imagined that it would end like this.

All the Times Something ALMOST Happened by allonsys_girl (T, 9,049 w., 6 Ch. || POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Canon Compliant, Angst, Friendship/Love, UST) – John and Sherlock dancing around what they dance around in canon.

Someone I Love by hudders-and-hiddles (M, 10,002 w., 2 Ch. || Canon Compliant, HLV-Filler Fic, Pre-Slash, Jealous John, PIning Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, UST/URT, Dog Tags) – John gets married and Sherlock finds comfort in wearing John's identity tags around his wrist.

Ravish Me by amalnahurriyeh (E, 10,025 w., 1 Ch. || UST / RST, Makeup / Lipstick, Sympathetic Sally, Experiments, Pining John, First Kiss, Face Fucking / BJ’s, Cuddling) – Sherlock is experimenting with patterns of wear on lipstick in daily encounters. John is going to go insane.

Their Great Reward by BeautifulFiction (T, 10,095 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Fluff) – Boxing day, in John's opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there's a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember.

The Five Stages of Mourning, Plus One by SunnyRea (T, 10,557 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, Pining / Grieving Sherlock, URT, Heavy Angst, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Drug Use, Graphic Death, Depression, Unhappy Ending) – Sherlock did not want this, did not want another stalemate with John in the middle, a gun in Jim's hand. This cannot have happened without a sign. There has to be something he missed anything which said today is the day I kill for real.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder by cypress_tree (E, 10,669 w., 1 Ch. || UST/RST, For an Experiment) – John helps Sherlock with an experiment: for an entire month, they are not allowed to touch each other and must remain at least one metre apart at all times.

I'm content as we are (but) by inqui (The_Circus) (E, 13,086 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, UST/RST, Pining, Victor Trevor, Minor Whump, First Kiss / Time, Misunderstandings) – In which John Watson sees something unusual, becomes jealous, and makes too much of a small thing as an old friend of Sherlock's shows up in the middle of a case.

Say For Me, Love by MirabileLectu (T, 13,147 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Drama, Pining John, Victor Trevor) – If you had asked John this morning what the result of his quiet afternoon at home would be, discovering a truth about Sherlock's past startling enough to shift the foundations of their friendship would not have been his first guess. So naturally, that was what was bound to happen.

Barricade by stitchy (M, 14,127 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fix It, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Happy Ending, UST, Mary’s Not Nice, First Time, Pining Sherlock, Time Skip Filler, Drunkenness) – Sherlock has been struggling to keep his feelings at bay for everyone's sake. Part 1 of Barricade

Second Chance by SilentAuror (E, 15,816 w., 1 Ch. || Post-HLV, Post-Divorce, Friends to Lovers, UST, Romance) – Now that John's divorce has gone through and the dust is settling, Sherlock thinks that he would very much like to see if there is any possibility of moving their friendship in another direction. The only thing is, he has no idea how to go about doing that...

Anytime by SilentAuror (E, 17,995 w., 1 Ch. || UST, Porn With Feels, POV Sherlock, Romance, UST/URT, Happy Ending, Drunken Endeavours) – Sherlock blinks and attempts to focus. There is a little too much vodka in his veins at the moment and it’s having an unfortunate effect on his brain and retinas both. There are two Johns sitting across from him, and both of them are frowning at him. “You’re drunk,” the Johns tell him. Sherlock blinks some more. “Says the man with Mrs Hudson’s doily on his head.”

John Watson doesn't have a Boyfriend by naughtyspirit (E, 18,932 w., 7 Ch. || UST / URT, Fluff & Smut, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – John's date has gone very well. Sherlock requires tea. John wishes he hadn't resolved that their relationship was strictly hands off and isn't about to address it. Unless he has to. Smut, fluff and shower time for a naked John Watson.

For you, there's only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w., 7 Ch. || Jealous Idiots, Virgin Sherlock, UST/RST, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss / Time, Insecure Sherlock, Masturbation) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock's part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there's only John.

Love Is by SilentAuror (E, 21,508 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, UST / URT, Post HLV, Romance) – At Mrs Hudson’s urging, Sherlock finally decides to tell John how he feels about him. Part 1 of Love Is

Brief Conversations with the Woman by May_Shepard (E, 21,906 w., 20 Ch. || Pining, Love Fairy Irene, Filler Fic, UST/URT, Drug Use, Clueless Sherlock, Relationship Advice, Angst w/ Happy Ending) – Sherlock has a puzzle to solve, and his name is John Watson.

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w., 4 Ch. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Masturbation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock's case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he's pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w., 9 Ch. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

That Partitioning of the Things of Youth by wearitcounts (E, 35,353 w., 7 Ch. || Humour and Angst, Post-TRF, Fake Relationship, UST / RST, Friends to Lovers, Jealous John) – Victor Trevor is in town, and nobody's happy.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w., 6 Ch. || Five and Ones, Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers, Pining John, Showering Together, Couple for a Case, Sherlock’s Bum, Fantasies, Jealous Sherlock) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

Wars We Fought, Things We're Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3 / Post TAB, Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST/URT, 3G, Mild Peril, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case, Protective Mycroft, Infant Death Pre-Story, Friends to Lovers) –  Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of SpaceBois go to Space

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w., 23 Ch. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) – Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school's Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada & ShinySherlock (E, 125,492 w., 23 Ch. || Historical Pirates AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Doctor John / Pirate Captain Sherlock, Sailing, UST / RST, Masturbation, Action / Adventure, Mild Angst & Peril, Romance, Shaving, Molly/Janine, Bottomlock, Hand / Blow Jobs, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Mild Violence, Facial Shaving, Happy Ending) – Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose... is it a pirate's life for him?

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w., 19 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

[meowmeowmessi]

Loool that Simp cass tag. But you were right tho, after that dean can’t reciprocate scene, all shit cas made sam go thru made him look like a jealous bitch. And it makes so much sense now too which is funny cox when i watched the episode where cass didn’t answer any of Sam’s text i was wondering why. Like Dean was the one he was fighting with.. why not answer Sam’s texts.. and after 15x18 i hmm bitch was just jealous. He even said to dean “you & Sam have each other.” Jealous!Cas is canon y’all.

I honestly hate how much I've been thinking about simp Cass ever since 15×18  aired afjklafjsjlgjskafjkl like??? This isn't even the first time Dean and Cass had a fight after which Sam left Cass texts and Cass didn't answer??? But what happened in s15 is ten times funnier bc Dean was actually PISSED on Sam's behalf that Cass wasn't responding to his texts bc "How dare you not reply to Sammy's texts and make him sad?" There's so much jealous bitch Cass stuff to be found in s15 alone but the rest of the show has a lot to offer as well. Cass saying yes to Lucifer? Totally a ploy to get back at Sam. Cass leaving Sam in the cave to die in s13 and telling Dean he can't be saved? WELL. Simp Cass in Beat The Devil be like:

Cass: Sam is dead!!!! Now NOTHING can get in the way of me and Jack and Dean being a happy family!!!

Dean: *literally won't talk to anyone, not even his own mother, the one he came to this hell hole for in the first place, is adamant on getting back to Sam no matter what, vampires be damned*

Jack: WHERE'S SAM??? HE'S NOT DEAD HE CAN'T BE DEAD WHY DIDN'T YOU BRING HIM BACK?!?!? *shoves Cass' hand off of his shoulder*

Cass: Like father like son fml 

Also Sacrifice is pretty hilarious too if you look at it through simp Cass lens: 

Sam: *is going to die if he finishes the third trial*

Cass: What an excellent opportunity to drag Dean away from Sam just as he's beginning the third trial so that he can FINALLY die already and I can have all of Dean's love 

And then he takes Dean away to that bar or whatever where the cupid hooks up the two dudes and Cass is all *wink wink* *nudge nudge* @ Dean while Dean is like "So when can I go back to Sammy"

And then Naomi tells Dean that Sam will die if he finishes the trials and Cass is mentally going "NOOOOOOOOO" as he watches Dean's face take on that age old "SAMMY IS IN DANGER NOTHING ELSE MATTERS NOW" look.

Cass: She's lying!!!!!!!! Sam will be tOtALLy fine!!!!!

Dean: idgaf tAKE ME TO SAM  N O W

Cass, having s4 finale flashbacks: Oh my Father not this again 

And then there's the fact that he lied about not knowing that Sam's soul is missing even though he KNEW Sam was soulless the MINUTE he pulled him out......... Guess he thought if he brought back a soulless version of Sam and lied about it then Dean would think he's lost his baby brother forever and he could slide riiiigghht in to take Sam's place but NOPE. Dean's now just pining for his puppy eyed empath of a brother. Absence makes the heart grow fonder amirite. And THEN Dean finds out Sam's soul is missing so Cass is like "U should leave it in the cage bc uh... UHHHHH..... *checks notes* Sam might die if he gets his soul back..... even though if he does he'll go straight to heaven which is oBviOusLy worse than being tortured by two furious archangels in the cage. Yep. That makes sense." *nailed it*

Dean: *kills himself and bargains with Death to get Sam's soul back and makes Death put up a wall in Sam's head to protect him from his hell memories*

Cass: Guess I gotta do this the hard way then *breaks Sam's wall*

Dean to Death later on: KILL HIM *pointing at Cass*

Cass:

Also imagine if all those times Cass accidentally held his fake FBI badge upside down and Dean fixed it for him was not so ~accidental~ bc he knows Dean doesn't like being close to him so that's the only way he can get SOME skin on skin contact with him......... like.............

Cass: *holds his fake badge upside down*

Dean: *fixes it for him and their fingers brush for .000002 seconds*

Cass, mentally:

Cass in Sam's room pretending to watch Netflix when in reality he's trying hard to drown out Sam's moans and Dean's grunts as Dean fucks his baby bro in Dean's room like:

(my friend suggested this Fall Out Boy song to me for simp Cass and I hate how well this bit fits skjsksjskjskskj) 

Also Cass hugging Dean in the s11 finale and Dean just giving him a bro pat while with Sam Dean YANKS him into an embrace and folds his arms over him and holds him close, letting Sam curl his hands into his jacket and bury his face in his shoulder while flower petals float in the air around them must have made Cass seethe with rage lmao

Purgatory must have been fun. Benny probably let Dean talk his ear off about Sam bc he was ACTUALLY a good bro and Dean's REAL best friend and he realized that Sam meant a lot to Dean so he let Dean have this sliver of happiness while Cass just felt like dying in the back lmfao 

wym I think about simp Cass too much 

[takemyopenheart]

Think of Me (Waiting series - part 2 of 3)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey and f!MC (Luz Beltrán) | Category: angst | Rating: T | Warnings: depression | Word Count: 2.1k | Ao3 link | Part 1 | Part 3

summary: There are thousands of miles between Ethan and Luz—which begs the question: does absence really make the heart grow fonder?

He feels his chest constrict at the fleeting thought of her, and he shuts his eyes to let the darkness encompass him. But he knows no amount of darkness can overshadow the light that seeps in when she crosses his mind. The past seven weeks have kept him preoccupied, which is exactly what he wanted. Fighting an epidemic was front and center in his mind, but that didn’t mean he was completely void of certain memories.

His body aches from standing long hours and attending to every last patient, and he remembers one instance in which she rubbed his shoulders one night after a long shift. She sat him down between her legs and used her magic touch to massage the ache away; it was unlike anything he’d experienced. He’d argue that any professional masseuse couldn’t hold a candle to Luz. How he would give anything to feel her intoxicatingly soothing caresses...

No. Snap out of it.

If anyone was there to physically slap the thoughts away, he would certainly allow it. Raking his hand through his hair, he bolts for the bathroom to splash cold water over his face. A chill runs through him as the coolness hits his face, and he slouches over, holding both sides of the sink as he takes in deep breaths. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and he looks up into the mirror.

The shadows under his eyes are darker than ever, his frown lines are deeper, his stubble has grown. It’s a reflection he’s grown accustomed to in the past month. He rarely wants to sleep, there’s no time for that when people need him. But it’s no wonder his colleagues forced him to take the day off. He finally realized they were right in that he needed to take a recess if he wanted to be in tip-top shape for the ongoing battle they were up against. Doctors need breaks too, he was just often too stubborn to recognize that.

He wonders if she knows where he is—if Naveen’s shared the news by now. If she’s thinking of him like he is thinking of her. Whether she hates him now for not saying goodbye.

This is the exact reason why he protested his colleagues’ advice; he’s become his own worst enemy. Any time he’s alone with his thoughts, there’s only one name, one face, and one voice that invades his mind.

No amount of distraction, time, or distance can erase the memories of her, and it’s a realization that scares him to death. He’s fallen—he’s fallen deep, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to get out. He had to be honest with himself; the main reason he left had to do with her.

The loud groan that escapes him is the only sound in the room, and beyond, it seems. It’s been a quiet night for the most part. The droplets of water continue falling down his face, his now-dampened shirt, and onto the floor. He catches his reflection again; it’s a depressing sight. How pathetic has he become? His resolve comes back at once.

Of course he’ll get out of it. He won’t let anything—especially anyone—affect his psyche. Any intimate feelings are just neurochemical responses to heightened stress and frequent exposure to each other. It’s what he’s always told himself. It makes perfect sense.

Everything he’s been through with Luz, and how she got involved with Naveen’s case is further evidence that supports his theory. It’s no surprise they grew close. She was there during his worst...and never gave up on him. It’s not something he’s used to...she saw him for who he was...she got to know parts of him he never dared show anyone...and she accepted him...

He suddenly, and forcefully, grabs the towel beside him to dry himself and the small puddle that has formed by his feet. His knees ache as he bends down, but he ignores the pain. After shutting the bathroom light off, he sits on the edge of the bed again. The night is silent and still, it’s an atmosphere so foreign to him now. It’s been anything but silent from the moment he arrived in the Amazon and got ready to work.

The pen from the patient file he’d been working on lays next to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Another thought soon rushes its way into his head again, and without thinking twice, he grabs it and opens the drawer for the notebook inside.

He opens the notebook to an empty page. He slips his glasses on and fiddles with the pen, almost building up the courage for what he’s about to write. She’s waiting to hear from you...give her an explanation.

He shakes the uncertainty away and begins writing.

‘Dear Luz,

I know what you’re thinking. Why now? Why this way? What a coward. Even if you don’t think so, it’s the only word that adequately sums up how I’ve been feeling since I left. Nothing I say will ever be enough to eradicate the hurt I know I’ve caused you. And I will never forgive myself for that. I couldn’t face you. I’m used to running, but you know me well enough by now that you’ve probably already figured that out.

Without you, I don’t know where Naveen would be. Or where I would be. You were, no, you are nothing short of incredible. Naveen’s revitalized health is proof of the amazing doctor that you are. And that brings me to my next point.

I don’t regret what we had. I care about you, please don’t believe otherwise. Which is why we both know this can’t continue. We can’t let anything hinder your full potential. Your career is too important. You matter too much. I won’t be the burden that gets in the way of that. We need to restart. Perhaps I’m going about this the wrong way, but I just couldn’t say goodbye.

You deserve all the happiness in the world. I’m sorry that can’t be with me. I hope you understand. I never thought I’d meet someone like you, but I don’t deserve you. Someone who won’t run will be worthy of you. Thank you for all you’ve done, I won’t ever forget it. Continue being the amazing woman that you are. Thank you for the time we had. I’ll cherish it.’

His hand halts, and he rubs his stinging eyes. The words on the paper appear blurry, his eyes refusing to allow them to come into focus. He adjusts his glasses on again, and the first word his gaze lands on is ‘coward’. He lets out a humorless laugh. ‘Damn right I am’, he thinks to himself.

The word embodies him further as he suddenly tears the page out of the notebook and rips it in half, before haphazardly tossing the crumpled paper across the room.

‘And that’s all I’ll ever be.’

•

Nearly 5,000 miles away, Luz sits in the once-familiar living room. She turns to the smiling face beside her, taking in the smile she’s missed so much. It’s been a long time since she’s seen him. Too long, and she feels so much contentment being near him. Her heart is full; there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

This is what she needed. To move past everything she’s been through this past month. And to do that, there was no better place than California. The place she used to call home. And to surround herself with the people whom she’s missed beyond belief since moving to Boston.

He puts his arm around her just before the camera flashes. Their smiles are wide and sincere. It’s a perfect moment to capture the happy Beltrán reunion.

"Okay, ahora it’s our turn!" Elena Beltrán chirps before rushing over to sit in between her two kids. "Ven, mi amor. Siéntate con nosotros. (Come here, my love, and sit with us) We need a picture. All four of us," she calls out to her husband, Jorge.

He places the phone on the fireplace mantel and comes to sit on the couch for another impromptu picture. He sits next to his youngest, who’s come home for the weekend from Boston just to see them. He and his wife couldn’t contain their joy that she’d be visiting just before their son, Sebastián, was to move to Oregon. It meant they’d all be together—a rare occurrence since Luz moved to the East Coast.

The camera flashes again. Luz’s cheeks feel like they’re about ready to burst from the permanent smile that’s been planted on her face since the moment she rushed into her family’s arms.

They’re just glad to see her content. From what they understood, she had been going through some things in her personal life that she needed to get away from for a while. She was open with them regarding her involvement with her colleague and boss Ethan Ramsey. They were aware that they’d grown close while working on a case together.

For years, he was someone she admired. So much so, that his research was the reason she applied to medical school. Ethan had made an important impact on her life. She never divulged just how close they’d grown, but if he was the reason she needed to get away from Boston, they knew it had probably become a close relationship. They never judged her for it. She was a smart woman. But sometimes you can’t help what your heart feels.

"Now, you two kids prepare for a feast. Mami and I will be in the kitchen, you two just make yourselves comfortable," Jorge says as he and Elena make their way to the kitchen.

Luz makes to stand. "Dad, no way. I’m helping—"

"Mija, sit down. We got this. You just got home from a long flight. I won’t take no for an answer," he says sternly, but with a warm expression on his face.

She slumps down on the couch, watching her dad gesturing for her and Sebastián to stay put. She can’t help but smile at his insistence to take care of them. It’s always been this way when she and her brother are home.

Sebastián turns to her, grinning from ear to ear. "It’s good to see you, sis. I didn’t think we’d see you till December."

"I didn’t either. But, really, I’m just here to annoy you," she jokes, though the smile doesn’t fully reach her eyes. Bash knows his little sister is trying to distract herself from whatever went down between her and that Ramsey guy. He can’t help but feel some resentment toward him for breaking her heart.

"Want me to kick his ass?"

"No, Bash. I’m better, I promise. I just needed a little break." She sighs, though she quickly covers it and stands on her feet. "Come on, let’s sneak up on mami and papi!"

Sebastián watches her tiptoe her way toward the kitchen and lift a finger to her lips to keep him quiet. He huffs out a laugh and decides to follow her. This quickly takes them back to the time they would sneak around every Christmas night to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus.

Jorge and Elena are too preoccupied getting the champurrado just right to notice their two kids crouched down behind the island.

"I see you," Jorge calls out with a soft laugh and a shake of his head.

"Dammit," Luz mumbles.

"Not as stealthy as once before, sis." Sebastián chortles, and they spring up from behind their hiding place.

"Anyway, I thought I told you kids to stay away," Jorge reminds them.

"Well, I’m helping anyway. Bash can laze about, but I’m helping, whether you like it or not." Luz remains adamant and takes the spoon from her mom to begin stirring the champurrado.

"Mom, dad, why don’t Luz and I take over. You two go sit down this time—"

"Yeah, go make-out or something. We got this." Her lips curve into a beaming smile

Sebastián grimaces in disgust, and Elena and Jorge laugh to themselves before stepping aside to allow them space. He begins shooing them away. "Go, go. We won’t poison you, we promise. Or at least I won’t. Can’t say the same about Luz."

"Hey!" she retorts with a frown before playfully giving him a shove.

"We trust you kids," Elena says as they make their retreat. And with a tender smile, she stares back at the comforting scene of her two kids together under the same roof, bickering like old times.

"And don’t you forget it! Come on, Bash, help me with the lemon bars while I continue stirring this," Luz instructs, and they get to work.

Being in the kitchen she grew up in fills her heart with the joy she’s missed these past few weeks. She’ll open up to her family eventually, all she wants to do right now is focus on the here and now.

It’s true what they always say: there’s no place like home.

•

Thanks for reading! Ily💗

•

@openheartfanfics

[waywardbeanie]

A Man of Letters - Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 7889

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: SPOILER if you have not seen Season 14, humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.(Always), angst.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this series so far, I have loved writing it and watching the characters grow. I appreciate EVERY ONE OF YOU who are taking this journey with me. We are a little less than half way there so BUCKLE UP!

Thank you to my beta @winchest09​ and my mind melder, idea bouncer and my cheerleader @whatareyousearchingfordean​​ I would be lost without you both!

MASTERLIST A Man of Letters

If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

Catch up here >>>>>>> A Man of Letters Masterlist

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

                                         Dean "I Build Shit" Winchester

                                                   PO Box 323

                                             Sioux Falls, SD 57101

Dear Dean,

I decided to go up to the cabin, but don’t worry about sending letters here. I will be back at the bungalow before you mail the next one. I know this job is necessary; we talked about it for a while before you left; I think all of us are just at the end of our rope with how long it is stretching on forever. How did the raids go? I hope that they are turning up something to get this thing moving in the right direction. I’m so glad we redid the inside of the cabin, now that it is entirely different just how we want it, it doesn’t drag up all of my parents' sad memories, only the good ones. Do you remember that we had our first fight here? I think I can count on one hand the number of actual arguments we have had, looking back it seems so silly now,  kind of, but I was so angry and hurt, understandably so. Sam and I were definitely on the same team at that time. The snow is beautiful at the cabin right now; you can see about two dozen ice fishermen from the dock. Jody calls about once a week; we chat, and I know she is checking on me; I’m also sure you know she does. One of the other reasons I came up here is to get away from all of the nosy people. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think they are great, but one more question from the older people about if I ‘stopped seeing that nice boy’ or the interrogations from the women who are digging for information, I was going to freak out, so off to the cabin I went. I miss Donna too, but I’m glad you have her there. I’m sure she shared the story when she, Jody and I got drunk when they came down to check on me at the cabin during the spring, when everything was a mess. It was rough at the time, but it was a good weekend with them. 

Ugh, these sad-sack letters are killing me. I swear, the next one will be happy; I think all this time away from each other is just hard. Whoever said, “absence makes the heart grow fonder” can kiss my ass because really, all it does is make me miserable or angry, and I hate being either of those things. On a happier note, I drew a picture of the new deck. I think we should build when you come home as you asked me to months ago. I think we should make it larger than the one that is there now. Don’t worry; I can hear you laughing at me  saying, “Of course you do” I think I will close for now and bake some muffins so I can include it with this letter. Please tell everyone I said hello, and I’m seriously counting down the days until you get back here. Please stay safe and watch your ass.

I Love You,

Your Initial

20 months ago

Deans POV

After Michael possessed Dean for the second time, he locked him away inside his mind, using the same beer cooler that Michael had created as Dean's happy place to cage him up. Michael never stopped banging, never stopped trying to get through the door. Still, Dean was confident that he had him locked up for good until Billie, now known as Death, came to see him in the bunker to tell him all of his stories in the library now ended the same, with Michael breaking free and using his vessel to burn their world down, all but one. The book that Billie gave him to let him know he had some choices to make.

Dean walked into the library the next morning to find Sam sitting at the table surrounded by books. “Whatcha reading?”

“Looking for stuff on archangels, it’s pretty interesting stuff,” he commented, looking up to face his brother, a determined look resting on his face.  “Dean, we will find a way to fix this.”

“You know,” Dean gestured to the table, “I appreciate it, everything you have done, and you are doing.”

“Of course,” Sam smiled thinly, “that’s what we do, we are going to beat this. We have a lot to go through, why don’t you pull up a chair? I could use some help.”

“Actually, I thought I would go for a drive, you know me and Baby and a long stretch of road, and while I’m at it I thought I would go see Mom at Donna’s cabin, then Y/N,” he was glancing through the books on the table, doing whatever he needed not to make eye contact with his baby brother.

“Oh...okay,” Sam stuttered. “Yeah, give me a minute so I can get to a stopping point, and I will gather my stuff so we can go.”

“Well, about that,” Dean stalled, “I was hoping for some, one on one time with Mom and I just need to check on Y/N to make sure she is okay and to let her put eyes on me, so she knows I am too.”

Sam’s eyebrows knitted as he looked at his older brother; something wasn’t right, not to mention that he had Michael banging around in his head, yet, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. “It will be good for you to see them, and I know they both want to see you, do whatever you need.”

Dean pressed his lips together, trying to keep the sadness at bay. “Okay.” 

As he walked around the table, he stopped behind Sam and reached around to hug him tightly for just a moment. 

Standing up, he patted his shoulder, “Take care, Sammy.” 

It was then that Sam began to realize there was more to Dean’s visits then he was telling him. The younger Winchester waited until he heard Baby leave the garage to start his search, hoping that he could find some answers to his brother’s decision to leave the bunker.

“Sam,” Y/N smiled as she picked up the phone.

“Hey Tink, how are you doing?” he asked, but she could hear an edge to his voice.

“I’m good.” She was walking around her newly finished kitchen at the cabin, wiping off the counter before she stopped and set the phone down, putting it on speaker. “You don’t sound so good. What’s going on?”

“Have you talked to Dean?”

“Yeah, Dean called last night," she thought back. "He said he was going to see your Mom, then come here, also that he wanted to work on a few things in the boathouse to clear his head. Why, Sam, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Tink, I’m worried,” he sighed. “Ever since we locked Michael up, he has been acting strange, and now, he’s packed up and just left when we have so much to do.”

She pulled out one of the stools from the counter and sat down, resting her elbows on the counter and holding her head up with her hands, staring at the phone. “You know how he is, Sam; He hates research when a lot is going through his head, Dean needs to move, that is how he thinks best.”

“I know, it’s just-” she could hear him running his hands through his hair, “he hugged me before he left.”

“Okay…” she scrunched her eyebrows together, “that was nice.”

“Tink, we don’t hug, you know that,” he sighed. “I mean, we do, but it’s literally a life or death thing.”

She covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know, Sam, he will be here late tonight, he is going to have dinner with your Mom first. Have you talked to her?”

“I have, Dean called her and said he would come by because he had a supply run. Maybe you’re right; it could be he needs to work in the boathouse and get moving to clear his head.”

“He and I will talk when he’s here, Sam. If I’m worried or if things don’t seem like they should, I will call you, I swear.”

“Yeah, okay, thanks, Tink,” he sighed, “talk soon.” 

Dean opened the door quietly to the cabin, the only light in the living space was above the stove, giving the area a soft glow. Dean spotted Y/N immediately asleep on the couch. Closing the door softly behind him, he sat down his bag and leaned against the wall, never taking his eyes from her. Curled in a ball, she was facing him; her hair spread on a pillow, Y/N wore a fitted tank top with a pair of plaid boxers that he laughingly referred to as her old man underwear. Her expression was peaceful, with slightly parted lips. He began to wonder if she knew how beautiful she was or how her pure heart had changed his life for the better, but most of all, he questioned if she knew how much he really loved her. Leaving his brother was hard enough, but leaving her would be the most difficult. He wiped at a tear that silently rolling down his cheek, his heart beat painfully in his chest, knowing the anguish that she and Sam would face when they find out he is gone. 

“Babe,” she heard Dean whisper, shaking her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” Y/N slowly blinked open her eyes to see him crouched next to her.

“Hey,” she smiled sleepily, “I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”

He brushed her hair back and pressed a kiss to her lips. “It’s after 2:00 in the morning; I would have been surprised if you were awake.” He slipped his hand in hers as he pulled her from the couch. “Let’s hit the hay; I'm so tired.”

She followed him groggily as he led her into the bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door behind him as she crawled under the sheets and watched him strip down to his boxers. He pulled down the blankets and slid in, drawing her to his side as she snuggled in and rested her head on his chest, tugging her closer, he kissed the top of her head. Her hand started to roam his chest as she leaned in and ran her lips up his neck to his ear.

He captured her hand with his and stilled it against his chest. “Babe, I really want to, I do, but I’m just exhausted tonight.”

“Okay.” 

That is when she knew something was wrong; when Dean had a lot on his mind having sex was always a top priority, it let him forget about everything else. She snuggled back into him, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Both were staring into the dark, lost in their separate thoughts until sleep finally overtook them. 

The sun was streaming through the window when Y/N woke up the next morning to an empty bed, reaching over she touched his side to feel the cold material under her fingertips. She strained to listen for a moment, hoping to hear him rattling around in the kitchen, but it was dead silent. A feeling of uneasiness washed over her as she got up and walked to the chest of drawers, pulling on a clean hoodie and pair of shorts. She padded out to the kitchen to start coffee then walked over to the window, peeking through the blinds; Baby was still there parked next to her Jeep, so she knew Dean was around here somewhere. Making her way to the bathroom she washed her face, brushed her teeth and then picked up her phone, to call Sam.

“Hey Tink.”

“Sam,” she greeted, jumping right in, “I think you're right, I don’t know what it is, but something is going on.”

“Yeah,” she could hear the concern in his voice, “I think I should come up; there is some stuff missing from the bunker.”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Just let me try to talk to your brother. I told you I would call, but maybe he needs some time.”.”

“Okay, okay,” he conceded. “Just let me know if anything changes with him?”

“I will, Sam,” she promised, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Right,” Sam agreed, “soon.” She didn’t know the younger brother was already on his way to the cabin. He had his suspicions, and none of them were good.

Y/N laid her phone on the counter and finished making her coffee. Picking up her mug, she headed outside to find Dean. Hearing noises coming from the boathouse, so she made her way toward the dock when the sound stopped, and a moment later, Dean walked out the door, slamming it behind him. The look on his face chilled her to the bone; she couldn’t put her finger on it exactly; it was a mixture of anger, resolution, and sadness. When he spotted her standing in the middle of the yard, mug in hand, he pasted a smile on his face, but she knew, even from where she was standing, that he was pretending for her benefit, the smile never reached his eyes.

“Hey Babe, What are you doing out here?” 

“I woke up, and you were gone, I thought maybe you had left, when I saw Baby was still here I thought I would come to find you and see what you were up to.”

“Oh, you know,” he ducked his head so she couldn’t see his face, “just messing around.”

“Anything in particular?”

“No, nothing specific,” he finally looked up, making eye contact. “You know a lot of stuff needs to get done, so I thought I would get a drop on it. Besides-” he opened his arms “-I needed to come see my girl,” he pulled her into him, holding her tight. He closed his eyes, feeling her in his embrace. This is what he was going to think about later when there were no more choices left to make.

She pulled away, looking up at him, her fingers running along the scruff of his jaw as she met his gaze. “Dean, whatever you are going through, whatever you are thinking, you can talk to me.”

He swallowed hard, a pained look sweeping across his face. “You know, everyone keeps asking me how I am, but here's the thing-” he inhaled deeply “-I just don’t want to talk about it, I can’t...please.”

She leaned against him, laying her face into his chest. “If you say so,” she whispered.

Dean kissed the top of her head, lingering for just a moment before leaning back to look at her face. “I’m starving, why don’t we head to that diner in town and grab some pancakes?”

Y/N scrunched her nose, “I’m not really feeling pancakes,” she lied. What she needed was to get in that boathouse to see what the Hell Dean was doing because she knew him well enough to know something was going on, she could feel it in her bones.

“Seriously?” he asked skeptically. “You don’t want pancakes? You love pancakes.”

She shrugged stepping out of his embrace, “I don’t know Dean, I think donuts from the bakery sound really good. Can you go get some?” 

“I guess I could,” he hedged, glancing quickly at the boathouse.

“Great!” she smiled turning to walk towards the cabin. “Can you get the apple fritter and jelly kind? You know those are my favorite.”

Stopping at the steps, he bent to brush a kiss to her lips before continuing on to Baby. Cranking the engine, he glanced one more time at Y/N and roared down the driveway. She stood at the bottom of the steps until she could no longer hear the Impala. Setting down her cup on the steps she turned and glanced at the dock. 

The blood roared in Y/N’s ears, and her heart banged against her ribcage as she quickly made her way to the boathouse she was praying that she could answer what was going on with Dean in there. It was more than just Michael locked away in his head; she could feel it.

The door opened with a loud screech that made her jump. She rolled her eyes to herself; sneaking around was just not her thing. Snapping the switch on, she saw a large metal rectangular box with symbols carved into it. She stood and stared at it for a moment as she swallowed the bile rising in her throat; it looked like a coffin. Y/N slowly made her way to the container. A few books were sitting on the top; with shaky fingers, she flipped open the first one; it had a picture of a casket matching the one in front of her with a skeleton lying inside; she riffled through the pages, scanning them as the realization dawned on her. It is a Ma’lak box, and it's to imprison archangels. She clamped her hand over her mouth as sour taste hit her tongue, her insides twisting. She slammed the book closed and ran out of the boathouse, making it out just in time to lose her stomach's contents on the dock's side. The dry heaves hit her as she finally stood up, wiping her mouth with her sweatshirt sleeve. Her brain was jumping in a thousand different directions at once. 

Dean was going to kill himself. She couldn’t think straight; she pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes in an attempt to get her thoughts together. “SAM!” her head screamed. She sprinted toward the cabin; Y/N knew she left her phone in the kitchen so she would call Sam, he would know what to do. As she was almost to the porch, the roar of Baby’s engine came up the driveway; she had run out of time.

She stood on the porch as Dean got out of the car, a white bakery box in hand. His long strides brought him to the bottom of the steps quicker than she could pull herself together. His smile fell as he saw her pale face and watery eyes.

“Babe, what’s going on?” his face filled with concern.

“No, Dean!” she pointed at him, her voice, a mixture of barely contained anger mixed with hysteria.

He set the box down on the steps, the knot in his stomach growing heavier with the apprehension that she knew his secret. “Tell me Y/N,” he rasped.

“I saw it, Dean,” she shakily accused, “what you are building in the boathouse, what you are planning. How could you do this?”

“It needs to be done. Y/N, there is no other choice.” He ran his hand over his face, resigned. “Billie showed me that if I don’t do this, Michael will break free, and if that happens, he will burn this world down, and I can’t risk that.”

“So what is the big plan, Dean?” she threw her hands up, raising her voice. “You and Michael get in that damn box, and we just pick a spot and bury you?”

“Not exactly,” he shook his head, climbing the steps to join her on the porch.

“Then what?”

“I don’t want to-” he reached for her, but she backed up out of his grasp.

“Bullshit!” she exploded. “You do not get to do this, Dean, you do not get to say you would rather I didn’t know, it’s too fucking late for that.”

“Fine,” his anger rising, “ burying me isn’t good enough, I’m going to find someone with a boat to drop me in the middle of the Pacific,” he brushed his hands together. “Done, problem solved.”

“So let me get this straight,” she started, tears streaming down her face, “ you and Michael, trapped underwater, together until the end of time. You know that’s crazy, right?”

“No Y/N” he sighed, “ it’s the only sane plan there is. Michael can’t get out of that box and he will get out of my head, eventually. So this, it’s the only card I have left to play.”

“Fuck that and fuck Billie!” she yelled, stomping her foot. “There has to be another way! Sam can find another way; you don’t have to do this!”

“Listen,” he pleaded, “Sam has tried, you know he has with Cas and Jack too. There is no other way Michael is coming,” he tapped his temple with his index finger. “I can feel that door in my head giving way; I’m out of options.”

“So that’s it,” she cried. “You came out here to build this, stopped by to see Donna and your Mom for what? To say goodbye, and then just leave? You were going to leave and not say goodbye to Sam or me, just disappear? Do you know how unfair that is?”

Anger and regret flashed in his eyes as he ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t have a choice, don’t you see that? You two were the last two people on this earth that I could be around because you are the only two that could talk me out of it, and Y/N I won’t be talked out of it, I can’t.” 

She stared at him, her chest heaving, the understanding that she was helpless to stop him washing over her, the pain almost crushing her. “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

“Can’t do what?” he demanded

“I can’t stand by and watch you kill yourself.”

 “I don’t have any other choice,” Dean lamented sadly. “What do you want from me?”

“You know I have never asked you for anything,” she shot back.

“Then ask for something!” he yelled.

“Fine,” she threw up her hands, pacing on the cabin's porch, “I want you to be safe! I don’t want you to die! I just want you to think about-” she choked out a sob.

“What Y/N?” he grasped her shoulders, stopping her misstep. “What is it that you want? Tell me!”

“Really?!” she shouted, jerking out of his grasp but standing her ground, tears continuing to roll down her face. "You want to hear this now? Well, here it is: I want you to love me more than you want to save the fucking world, okay?”

Dean stepped back, flinching as if she had physically slapped him. At that very moment, he realized she had no idea how deep his feelings for her were. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she laughed humorlessly, “sorry for what, Dean? Sorry for making me fall in love with you, sorry for pretending that we might have a future together, or are you sorry for throwing it all away to lock yourself in a fucking box to die? Please tell me!” She shoved at his chest, but he didn’t move, which made her cry harder in anger. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her; she struggled for a moment before collapsing onto his chest, her mournful cries shredding him inside as he tried to stop his tears from falling. They stood there holding each other, fearing letting go would mean saying goodbye forever.

When Sam pulled into the drive, Dean and Y/N were sitting on the stoop, both looking out to the woods, her hand resting in his. Dean turned to look at his brother; when their eyes met, Sam knew that whatever was happening was terrible; Dean’s eyes were red-rimmed, jaw clenching, and unclenching. Y/N glanced up, the look of anguish scared him. Getting out of the car, he slowly approached them.

“What are you doing here, Sammy?” Dean asked, his voice raspy and monotone. 

“Some things were missing from the bunker,” he replied, “things that I can’t figure out why you would take.”

Y/N exhaled loudly, "Tell him, Dean," her voice flat as she stood up, pulling her hand from his. She walked up the three steps into the house, closing the wooden door quietly behind her.

“Tell me what?” he asked harshly, knowing he would not like the answer.

Dean stood up and began to make his way to the boathouse. “Come on,” he waved, his voice solemn, “I’ll just show you.”

Sam followed his brother into the boathouse, at the sight of the metal coffin, anger and sadness hit him full force. Dean tried to explain the plan to his baby brother, however the more he went into detail, the more infuriated Sam became, frustrated with his brother's willingness to self-sacrifice. .

“So, that’s it, then?” he questioned, “are we even going to talk about it?”

“Why?’ his older brother answered, “It doesn’t change anything.”

“Dean,” Sam appealed, “we know we could die, it’s part of the job, but what you're doing? It’s worse than death. Michael is an archangel; he could keep you alive and buried with him forever.”

Dean lifted a shoulder, defeated. “It doesn't matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t!” Sam yelled. “You are just willing to walk away from all of us, from your family, who want to help you! Aren’t you even scared?”

 “I didn’t say I wasn’t scared,” he sighed, running his hands over his hair, “but what’s the other option? Michael gets out and destroys everything because it’s all right there in Billie’s book, just like I told you.”

“That's only if we can’t find another way, Dean, there has to be another way.”

“And what is that way, Sam?” Dean asked, resigned, “Tell me.”

Sam threw up his hands, searching for words to fight his case.

“Exactly,” he pointed his finger at his younger brother, “which is why it’s going to be my way. Look, Sammy, you are either with me on this or not. If you aren’t with me, you gotta tell me now; I need to know if you are going to see this thing through to the end.”

“I don’t like it, Dean, there has to be another way, but you will not do this alone. I give you my word.”

“I just don’t need you to get shaky on this or you and Y/N to come up with some plan that isn’t going to work. It has to be my way.”

“What about Cas and Jack or Mom?” Sam questioned, “You haven’t said anything to them; why?” 

“I know,” Dean huffed, running his hand along the back of his neck. “I’m just not good at the big goodbye thing; I can’t second guess myself now.”

“Well, Dean,” Sam shook his head, disappointed, “that wouldn’t be the worst idea.”

“You know what Michael wants; you know this is the only way to stop him, so either get on board or let me know now because I’m not going to drag this out.”

Sam looked at his older brother in the eye. “I said I am there until the end, and I mean it, I don’t agree with it, and I think there is another way, but I have your back Dean, always.”

“There is a trailer outback; I’m going to hook it up to Baby, then I need your help loading this box on it. Can you do that?”

“Of course,” Sam nodded once, “What about Tink?”

“I don’t know if she is going to come back out of the house.” He rubbed his stubble in thought.

“So, that’s it?” Sam questioned angrily, “You are just going to leave her there, after all of this?”

“No, Sam,” he met his brother's eyes, matching his anger, “I’m going to go in there and do the thing I never wanted to do, I’m going to tell her goodbye.” He choked on the last word, “So, I need you to do me a favor, Sammy.”

“I know what you are going to ask me,” he stated.

“Well, I’m asking anyway, watch out for her, would you? Check-in just to make sure she is alright.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam looked at  Dean, his lips in a firm line, “I will, but I’m telling you she isn’t going to be fine, none of us are.”

Dean hooked up the trailer behind Baby, and he and Sam loaded the Ma’lak box, securing it to the trailer. Sam went to gather all of the tools from the boathouse as Dean walked into the cabin. As he entered the front door, it was eerily quiet, Y/N nowhere to be found; he stuck his head into every room checking for her. Dean knew in his gut she was in the bedroom they shared, his stomach sinking just a little bit more with every step to his destination. Stopping in front of the door, he saw her lying on the bed, under the covers with her back to him, staring out the glass wall.

“Babe,” he said softly, she didn’t move, she didn’t acknowledge him, he knew she wasn’t sleeping as he watched her breath. Tiptoeing into the room, he sat on the bed, placing his large hand on her back to comfort her. Instead, she flinched under his touch, which was an arrow to his soul. Standing up, he walked to the other side of the bed, crouching down in her eyesight, he tried to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t look at him, instead just closed her eyes, silent.

“Y/N,” he whispered, “I have to go.” He watched her face as he said the words, tears leaking from her closed lids soundlessly. Brushing her hair back from her face, he leaned and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded her head once against the pillow, acknowledging his words, squeezing her eyes tighter, afraid to speak for fear she would fall apart.

“Please look at me,” he pleaded, his hand resting on the side of her head, his thumb brushing against her brow. She squeezed her eyes tight and then opened them, her tears glistening off her lashes. Dean wished he hadn’t have asked her, he saw all of the pain she felt  in her expressive eyes, which made him physically feel the grief he was causing. Her heartache was going to be what he remembered when he was locked in that box, haunting him for eternity. Dean didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to close himself in that damned coffin. Yet, he didn’t have a choice. Between Y/N and Sam, he was starting to waver. Her watery eyes blinking at him, he smiled sadly. Leaning down, he brushed a soft kiss across her mouth and heard her choke back a sob. Speaking against her lips, he whispered, “I love you, Y/N. You’ll forever be in my heart..”

Standing up, unshed tears in his own eyes, Dean pulled the blanket up, tucking it underneath her chin. Shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he walked to the bedroom door.

“Dean,” she choked out.

He paused, turning around, she was still facing the window, on a shuttered breath, she spoke, “I will always love you.”

With that, he turned on his heel, the tears finally falling as he made his way to the car and his brother, away from the only woman he truly loved with every ounce of his being.

Dean’s POV

The next three weeks were a whirlwind. Sam talked him into taking one more job before they dropped him in the ocean. Dean knew he was stalling for the inevitable, but what was one more job? Dead bodies with symbols carved in them? Enochian marks, it was right up their alley. They were prophets or more specific damaged prophets because Donatello was in a coma thanks to Castiel, not exactly dead but not alive. They were able to bring Donnie back, again thanks to Cas, he still didn’t have a soul, but there were worse things at this point. 

Dean and Sam had fought. His little brother had sucker-punched him, trying to knock some sense into him, accusing him of throwing in the towel and quitting on not only him but Y/N. That they must mean nothing to him after everything that had done together, Sam believes in them, so why doesn’t Dean? 

The elder Winchester then made the decision to put the Ma’lak box on the back burner, just for the moment. It was still the only option he could see, but if Sam needed to see this through, he was going to give that to him, how could he not? The younger Winchester  was right; after all, they had been through a lot together, how could Dean just quit? He believed in them, in all of them and Hell, Billie might be wrong after all, but one thing he knew for sure is that he could count on his family. Dean made Sam and Cas promise him that if it comes to an end and they have run out of options, they would do what they couldn’t do now, and that was let him go. They had to promise to put him in the box and drop him in the ocean's bottom. 

Once the promises were made, they headed back to the bunker, Dean's phone burning in his pocket; he just wanted to hear her voice. Still, until they came to a resolution with Michael, he could not call her; this painful back and forth was never what she agreed to. At this point, she may never forgive him, so he needed to hold tight to see if they could find a solution before he reached out to her again.

A few days after they got back to the bunker, they got some information on a guy who owned a pawn shop who had robbed and killed Bart Kemp, a friend of theirs who was murdered and his place emptied. In the boxes of occult items recovered, he discovered a Baozhu pearl, only one of eight in existence; it was supposed to give you what your heart desires. Dean knew he wanted to throw Michael out on his ass, no more riding shotgun in his head. The brothers knew they were running out of options; this might be their last hope.

When they got home, they decided to try it; if it didn’t work, there was no reason to share it with the rest of the family. Placing the pearl in his hand, he concentrated on Michael leaving; he knew it must be working because the lights went out, and that is when all hell broke loose, in the very best and very worst way possible. In the dark, someone hit them both with the butt end of a shotgun; as the lights came back on, standing in front of them was the one person the brothers ever thought they would see again, their father, John Winchester.

It took them all a few minutes to wrap their head around what they saw as John struggled with the fact that they were so much older than when he was pulled 16 years into the future. Sitting at the kitchen table, they tried to fill their father in on all of the things that happened since he traded his life and the colt for Dean’s life so many years ago. Although in shock and a little awe, John agreed it was all worth it to avenge Mary’s death, but that was the news that would knock John on his ass as he heard Mary’s voice calling to their boys as she entered the bunker.  

Seeing his parents see each other for the first time in decades was bittersweet for Dean, that his heart desired to have his family together. Just one person was missing because he didn’t have it in him to call her and disappoint her one more time. He and Sam figured out quickly that bringing their Dad into the future had changed the whole trajectory of history. Sam was a kale eating attorney who gave Ted Talks; Dean was still a hunter wanted by every agency under the sun. They knew the only way to fix this was to send John back to 2003. That is the Winchester way, doing the right thing no matter what the personal cost. They were able to have one meal together before they sent their Dad back, the one meal that they would always remember, although John would recall it as a dream. Mary told John about Y/N during the dinner, although she had yet to meet her, she and Dean had been together almost a year and a half, and Mary saw the joy she brought to her eldest son and wanted her husband to know it too. John pulled Dean to the side before they had to say goodbye for the final time.

“Dean,” his father began, “I never meant for this, for you to live this life, this was my fight never yours, it was my fight with yellow eyes, now look at you, you are a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you,” he sighed. “You know son, I guess I hoped eventually you would find a life, a normal life, a peaceful one, settle down and start a family of your own.”

“You know, Dad,” Dean smiled sadly, “I have a family.”

John matched his sad smile with one of his own, “I know you do, with Sammy, Jack, and Cas, and it’s a good family.” Reaching out he and grasped his shoulder, “but Dean, you have a chance to have what your Mom and I had, not with all the tragedy that comes with it, but a real-life that you can call your own, with a woman that loves you,” John chuckled, "despite your faults. Your Mom said she is something special.”

“She is Dad; she really is,” Dean choked.

“Well then,” he smiled, “when all this gets figured out with Michael, and don’t you kid yourselves, you two boys will figure it out. You need to go to Y/N and tell her Dean, tell her that the world does not spin without her, because if you don’t, and you try to live this life without her? You will die, maybe not on the outside,” he patted his chest over his heart, “but in here. Trust me, son, I’m telling you this because I lived it. Go to your girl, Dean. You will have a life better than you could ever dream of.”

“Thanks, Dad” Dean's mouth quirked up at the side, tears shining in his eyes, “that means more to me than you will ever understand.”

“I know I didn’t always show it-” John rasped, “because I was too wrapped up in my own revenge, but Dean, I wanted the best for you and Sam always. Now you two have a chance to live your best life, do it, both of you.” He pulled Dean to him and hugged him tightly, “go and live the only life your Mom and I ever wanted for you. I love you, son.”

“You to Dad,” he choked. “I love you too.”

Inhaling deeply, John sniffed as he stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets, "well, I guess we need to get to it then.”

“Yeah,” Dean croaked, hanging his head.

Standing in the library, John hugged his sons, reminding them again how proud he is of both of them and also reminding Dean that he should listen to his old man’s advice. He held Mary’s hand as Sam crushed the Baozhu pearl under a pottery bowl, watching with heavy hearts as John disappeared.

As Dean lay in his bunk that night, he flipped through the pictures of Y/N on his phone. The smile on her face warmed him through the photograph as his father's words repeated through his mind. There was one thing that troubled him. What if this was the time that she could not forgive him? What if this was the thing that destroyed everything they had built together? What if once again he sabotaged his own life for everyone else. If they could figure this Michael situation out, he would call her, no, he would get in Baby and find her because she deserved nothing less and just hoped to God or whoever was listening that she would give him one more chance.

In the next few days, Sam was busy searching through more books to find answers until they got a lead on a demigod who was killing humans and consuming their bodies. Even with Rowena’s help, the gorgon was always one step ahead of him until he left a note for Dean after killing a truck driver, realizing that they couldn’t see Cas. The pounding in his head was getting worse, and Dean was sure if they didn’t find something soon, he would find himself at the bottom of the pacific. Dean just hoped that he didn’t have to fight Cas and his brother on this because he just wasn’t sure he had it in him. He wasn’t sleeping much, so instead, he spent that time dwelling on how different things would be had he made other choices. 

He talked to Jody; she and Donna had driven to see Y/N at the cabin. She didn't say too much except that Y/N was surviving. That turned Dean’s world upside down, yet he was helpless at this point to do anything but move forward or take the plunge. Either option did not look appealing to him. 

Rowena put on a tracking spell on the demigod and sent Castiel and Jack in first because the Gorgon couldn’t see them; as the fight ensued, Sam and Dean joined in when things went sideways. He was stronger than he looked and got the drop on Dean, smashing his head multiple times against the wall's corner, leaving him unconscious. Jack was able to behead the demigod before his escape and used his powers to save Cas because Rowena's anti-venom did not work on angels. 

They made their way back to the bunker from New Mexico, Dean never regaining consciousness. When he finally woke up, he was in a rage, destroying a part of the infirmary. He told them this would happen, and now there would be hell to pay; Michael was gone, broke down the door that Dean had him locked behind in his mind, and now he was gone, now the world would burn. Hearing screams from the war room, they ran to find Michael jumped inside Rowena. He didn’t give her a choice; she wasn’t Dean, but she was strong and a close second, Now Michael was going to take over this world just like he had planned when he came through the rift all those months ago, except this time there was no one to stop him. Or so he thought.

Michael was enjoying causing Dean, Sam, and Cas pain; Jack was unaffected, but that was just a small distraction. Suffocating them, blinding them, causing them pain was just a little game until they suffered a bit before ending them all. Jack had had enough, to hell with his soul burning up; he would kill Michael or die trying. Michael thought he would stop him? He was the son of Lucifer, a hunter, a Winchester! With that, Jack placed his hands on either side of Rowena's head, driving Michael out. As Michael's essence swirled around the ceiling, Jack burned up his remaining soul by torching Michael and ingesting his grace. Michael was dead. It was over, and no one else had to die by Michael’s hand; Dean was free.

The older Winchester’s first thought was Y/N. Michael was dead, sure they had to think about dealing with Jack without a soul, but it couldn’t be that hard, right? He had to get to her to fix this. Dean needed sleep, and he was also worried about how Sam was coping, but they could hold off for a few days, right? He had 10 hours to figure out how to make it up to her as he headed to Castle Rock Lake. He wanted to make her see that Michael was gone and that he was sorry that he had put her through everything, but he was back, entirely himself and would never put her through it again. 

By the time he got to the lake, it was early morning, the excitement and trepidation making him almost jittery. As he cleared the trees to the cabin, he looked up to see the door to the cabin slam closed; his heart sunk a little as that was not a good sign. He was tired from the drive, hell he was exhausted from the last three weeks, but his Dad was right, he needed her.

Climbing from the car, he strode up the walkway and climbed the steps stopping in front of the door. He knew his girl well enough that he would bet every dime in his pocket that she was standing just inside with her back pressed up against the door. Laying his palm against the wood, he called to her.

“Babe.”

“No, Dean,” came her muffled reply.

“Come on, Babe, come out here and talk to me,” he tried to reason.

“I can’t do this again.” He could hear her crying. It hurt because he knew it was all because of him, but he was trying to fix it...if she would just let him.

“Y/N, just open the door.” 

“No, go away, Dean, I mean it go away.”

Stepping to the door, he leaned his forehead against the heavy wood with a sigh, “I’m not leaving; I will just stand here until you open up.”

“No, you won’t!” she yelled, he could hear the panic in her voice; she knew him, if he said he was going to do something, it would happen. “I will call the cops!” she threatened.

“Really?” he stifled a chuckle. “You are going to call the cops on me?”

There was a moment of silence before she huffed out a “No.” 

“Babe, open the door,” he pleaded.

“I’m not opening the door; you just need to go. Seriously, I can't do this anymore, Dean. I don’t want to be just one more of your responsibilities. I just need to figure out how to-” her voice cut off on a sob.

“I just want to see you, so you can tell me to my face that you never want to see me again.”

“Why?” she yelled, banging her fist on the door. “Can’t you just listen and do what I ask?”

“It’s simple,” he almost smiled; he knew that the longer it took her to open the door, the better chance he had of fixing what he had broken. “You open the door and look me in the eye and tell me you're done.”

“You are an asshole!” she screamed as she banged on the door.

“That may be sweetheart,” he chuckled, “ but I’m not stepping foot off this porch until you look me in the eye.”

“Well,” she laughed sarcastically, “You will be out there a long time.”

“Ah, well,” Dean smiled as he turned around and sat down, bracing his back on the door, “you know how stubborn I can be, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Chapter 14

Tags: @winchest09​ @katehuntington​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​ @superfanficnatural​ @deanwanddamons​ @janicho88​ @talesmaniac89​ @anathewierdo​ @compresshischest09​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @jensengirl83​ @this-is-what-im-reduced-to​ @ellewritesfix05​ @moron225​ @foxyjwls007​ @hobby27​ @unicornqu33n17​ @swinchester27​@4fareader @deans-baby-momma​ @squirrelnotsam​ @clumsy-nerd104​ @sarahbaker2010​ @supernatural-love14​ @akshi8278​ @lyarr24​ @angelhearts1012​ @nothinbuttrouble2​ @cookiechipdough​ @lady-pswrld​ @peachyafshawn​ @notan-applepielife​ @linki-locks11​ @atc74​ @divadinag​ @dvnmbabe​ @michellethetvaddict​ @stoneyggirl​ @fernandaburdasova @smol-and-grumpy​ @440mxs-wife​ @abuavnee​ @krazykelly @malfoysqueen14​

[crispyliza]

Spamano multi-chapter fanfiction recommendation masterlist!

For all you home-quarantined people that have nothing to do and also because I’ve been meaning on making one of these since 2015 (took a global pandemic to get me started lol) 

These fanfics are all with multiple chapters and listed in no particular order. Of course some are better than others, but every single one has its charms! I added only a few with 3 or 4 chapters because i liked them too much not to whereas the rest of the fanfics have at least 5+ chapters. So without further ado, here they are:

Una Notte A Napoli “One night in Naples, by the moon and sea, my heart was stolen by an angel who had forgotten how to fly.” (completed)

Per Sempre Tuo “Lovino Vargas, better known as Romano, is a famous TV actor. He has everything anyone could ever want. The only problem is that the thing he wants, over-night singing sensation Antonio Fernandez, is married.” (completed)

HOVA “The Nova Sagittarius was a ship that would take myself and countless other passengers on a one month trip around our solar system. But things went wrong; the ship changed and just like that, we were stranded. We got to know each other but more than that, we got to know ourselves.” (completed)

What We’d Do Without Gravity  “While lost in a hospital Antonio comes across young terminally ill patient, Lovino Vargas. With Lovino left only six months to live it’s an awful time a romance to blossom between the ill fated pair, but with a bucket list to race through as the clock ticks down, the two find that love is very hard to avoid.” (completed)

Numbered Lithograph “When Lovino starts attending art school with his brother he finds his most important lesson doesn’t come from his professors, but from a culinary student at a sister school: sometimes the flaws hold the beauty.” (completed)

Tienimi Streto “Lovino Vargas is a detective with a poor attitude and a dark past, driven to the side of law by pain and revenge. After his partner quits, he is paired with specially recruited Antonio Carriedo, who becomes something more than just a co-worker. When deaths linked to the Italian start popping up over the city, Lovino begins to question everything he thought he knew.” (on-going)

More than attraction “Antonio says he met his love’s eyes over the bin of tomatoes. Lovino says he was stalked relentlessly until he was forced to give in.” (completed)

Credo “AU, 1502. Fueled by revenge, Lovino Vargas hasn’t failed an assassination job yet - but when a new Spanish captain comes to Rome, killing the unorthodox Antonio Carriedo might just be the death of him.” (completed)

Secret Tunnels from Madrid to Sicily “When Antonio Fernández Carriedo begins work as a professor at a prestigious university in Britain, one of his students, a Sicilian boy who goes by the name Romano, immediately catches his eye. He is a clearly gifted writer, who closes himself off in the wake of a dark and painful history. Even wrapped in his darkness, pushing everyone away, Toni finds himself determined to bring out the potential within Romano…They drag each other into a passionate, inevitable affair–doomed, they know, to end in flames.” (completed)

Why Did it Have to be You? “Lovino’s parents are tired of his horrible behavior, and hire Antonio to babysit him. But time is a cruel mistress, and in absence the heart grows fonder. These are just some of the things Antonio and Lovino will learn.” (completed)

And the Birds Sing No More “Don’t ever leave me.” Lovino said nothing. He allowed the tense heaviness to settle among his shoulders, tighten his lungs, and spread between the space from where he stood to where Antonio was seated lethargically. Antonio’s gaze sharpened. Lovino, inclining his head slightly, whispered, “I won’t.” (completed)

A Dancing Star “Antonio is the easy-going, life-loving art professor and Lovino is the Italian exchange student who walks into his art studio. When Antonio falls in love he thought he only had his job to worry about, but maybe it’s Lovino’s dark secret that’ll push him away. Trigger warning for self-harm and dark themes.” (completed)

Kismet “Lovino learns the hard way that things change and that they can change quickly. The necklace fell and now he’s in a strange land far from home. Will he ever see his brother again? Will he find his way home? Or will he discover home is where the heart is? Fate is a strange woman and can work in mysterious ways.” (completed)

Let that be enough “Lovino had given up hoping for someone who’d care about him. Antonio never expected to fall for the most tormented guy in town. But dark secrets and hidden dangers threatens their blooming relationship. Is it over before it even begun..?” (completed)

Child services “Romano and Feliciano Vargas have just lost their parents. Romano, who is 22, must care for his 6 year old little brother. Enter Antonio Carreido, the agent from Child Services who must record his progress, however, it’s hard for the cheerful Spaniard to keep from falling in love with this little broken down family and with Romano.” (on-going)

Loving a Stranger “You don’t remember, but I know you. We were- I don’t even know how to describe our relationship. That sounds bad, I know. I think you might have been in love with me, although I cannot see why. That’s just what I’ve been told. I acted as though I hated you, but I never did. I was afraid, because you were kind to me. I didn’t know I loved you until you forgot me…“ (completed)

The Many Personalities of Spain “England casts a spell to rid himself of Spain. As expected it goes wrong; leaving Romano to deal with the many personalities of Spain. That sounds like a normal day for Romano, right? It would be if the personalities not had their own personifications.” (on-going)

Daisy Genocide “My name is Lovino Vargas but that’s not who I actually am. I’m my brother. They put his DNA into a little ball of jello and grew me like a house plant. To say it blatantly, I’m a clone and I’m in a disturbing amount of trouble. I’m about to tell the story of my fight to preserve my humanity followed by a vicious history of crime but it’s a secret. Nobody has to know.” (completed)

More Than Meets The Eye “Striving to find approval and meaning, Antonio throws himself into the world of art determined to come out on top. Yet, in all of his searching, burning, and pain, he never thought that a single culinary student could ever manage to tear down his walls and make him face his biggest fear; himself.” (on-going)  

Cryonic “After suffering a fatal attack from an unknown illness, Lovino Vargas underwent cryopreservation, leaving behind his only family, his boyfriend, and a blooming company. Years later the effects are only just coming into play causing more problems than his preservation was supposed to solve. Human AU; T for language; pre-established Spamano.” (on-going)

All of Our Flaws “Antonio is a man whose world revolves around anyone but himself. Lovino is a man with dreams bigger than a job behind a drugstore counter. Antonio is broken; Lovino is incomplete. Will a chance meeting lead them to mending their cracks and finding their missing pieces? Human AU, trigger warning for self-harm.” (on-going)

Truly an artist “Having already completed college, Lovino Vargas lives in Madrid as an artist suffering from severe artist’s block. In one of his visits to his old school he runs into a new teacher, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, who decides he’ll be the one to help Lovino in his endeavor to find himself. However cheerful and optimistic, Lovino still feels there’s more to Antonio than he’s letting on.” (completed)

The Heartbreaker “Sometimes the best things happen unexpectedly. Certainly this is Antonio’s opinion at the moment. The handsome stranger he met upon moving to a new town in Italy seems to be able to do almost no wrong. Until he digs a little deeper below the surface and begins to discover an unsettling reputation. And if the rumours are true, is it wise to trust a man known as ‘The Heartbreaker?” (completed)

We sing, We dance, We eat tomatoes “When Lovino Vargas takes in a starving guitar player called the Curbside Prophet from the streets of Philadelphia, he isn’t expecting the man to tolerate him for more than a couple weeks, much less fall in love with him. Based on the the music by Jason Mraz.” (on-going)

Underwater Land “Antonio was a merman. Lovino hated water. It was truly a match made in heaven.” (completed)

Flashlight “If I throw a tomato at you, vampire bastard, will you still sparkle under the sauce?” Twilight parody. (completed)

Catch you, Catch me “Clumsy, clueless detective Romano is on the trail of the infamous handsome and charming thief El Apasionado Caballero. But there’s more to this, what seems like a simple game of cat and mouse, than meets the eye.” (completed)

Blackbird “Antonio walks into a small coffee joint, hoping for just some caffeine to take the edge off of late-night studying for midterms, and gets a whole lot more than he bargained for in the form of a snarky, foulmouthed, Italian barista.” (on-going)

Counting Stars “Antonio, failed writer and journalist, thinks things are finally going his way when he lands an interview with actor Lovino Vargas. But it’s only the start of a long line of problems… the biggest of which may be Vargas himself.” (on-going)

Cosa Nostra “Based on the historical background of the Sicilian Mafia during the First Mafia War starring Mafia!Romano.” (completed)

Tight Rope “Rich, spoiled kid Lovino Vargas hates pirates. Pirate captain Antonio Carriedo hates rich, spoiled kids. None of them ever thought they could feel something different from hatred towards one another. However, Fate seems to have different plans for them, and twists their lives in unexpected ways.” (on-going)

When You Recover “Nurse Lovino Vargas has to take care of brain damaged patient Antonio Carriedo, who seems to have a strange affection towards him. N-not that Lovino likes it! The Italian is determined to make the man recover, no matter what it takes. What will little Lovino get himself into with this patient?” (on-going)

Like All Things, It Ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from. (Warnings for PTSD, Depression, harmful thinking of oneself, and violent death of a loved one)” (completed)

Wish upon a star “A drunken wish on a star lands Lovino back in the time of pirates, and when he runs into a familiar face with an unfamiliar personality, he’ll start to question his own heart. Pirate!SpainxRomano. Rated for language, violence, and maybe mature situation” (completed)

Crooked Timber “As an artist, Lovino understands that perfection doesn’t exist. If only Antonio agreed with him, and stopped trying to hurt himself. -Human (College) AU. Spamano multi-chapter with other minor pairings. Depressed!Antonio, Writer!Antonio, Artist!Lovino- TW for self-harm.” (completed)

Just Pretend! “Romano liked Emma- a lot. Except her stupid big brother was too overprotective (and, okay, a little scary)! He wouldn’t allow any guy near her- unless they weren’t romantically interested in Emma. So, Romano decided to pretend to be gay, with the help of Antonio, in hopes of getting Emma to fall in love with him. Perfect plan, right?” (completed)

The Duty of an Elder Son “Lovino Vargas knew a lot about duty.” His Grandfather’s swollen empire puts all of his family in danger, the other gangs are massing, the police are on their tails and Lovino is given a bodyguard in one Antonio Carriedo. 1920s Mafia AU fic. (completed)

Flatmates “They were flatmates, they were best friends and they were really frustrated about relationships. So what would two young men do about this?” (completed)

Zero Tolerance “Lovino lives a perfect life. Or atleast thats how he is suppose to appear. Antonio lives a life as a dangerous gangbanger. North Side meets South Side as these two are partnered in their Chemistry class. But there is one chemical reaction these 2 arent prepared for- Love. AU, human names used. Based on the book “Perfect Chemistry” by Simone Elkeles.” (completed)

Your Love Can Be My SIght “Seventeen year old Lovino Vargas lost his sight in a terrible car accident. Antonio, a teacher at Lovino’s school was born without it. Can Antonio teach Lovino that even without sight, life can be beautiful?” (completed)

The Greatest Treasure, You Idiot! “Spinoff of the “Sea Foam” chapter in Hetalia Fairy Tales. Captain Carriedo of the pirate ship, Buscador Dorado, seeks a legendary treasure “that is worth gaining” with the help of the infamous wish-giver, Lovino. But what is the true treasure?” (completed)

Crowns of Triple Gold “Things are rarely simple for Romano in the Eternal City, especially when he falls for one of his clients, a Hispanian senator up for consul against his father.” (completed)

Prisoners on the Slave Ship of Love “Lovino Vargas has been captured and taken hostage in a pirate raid led by Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and his band of Spanish buccaneers. Tensions grow high and hearts are tested when Lovino becomes Captain Carriedo’s personal prisoner…” (on-going)

The Lemon Tree “Lovino didn’t want to be a slave in that scary mansion. He needed to break free. The fight for independence, however, is a difficult path, and falling in love with the man that destroyed his life doesn’t make things any easier.” (completed)

Sun Kissed “A powerful man once created gods to rule the sky as the creatures of the land lives. The Sun and the Moon. Brothers since birth, and all powerful, they rule side by side. As time passes, the Sun realizes how unhappy he is watching people hide from him. What happens when he discovers a man who isn’t afraid to live under the harsh sun?” (completed)

Tesoro Mio “Antonio’s the charming, handsome farmer with an infuriating Spanish accent, and Lovino is the mysterious wine entrepreneur who comes and goes. When Antonio falls in love, he throws society, expectations, and religion to the wayside, but can a strict Catholic like Lovino do the same?” (completed)

Because of the war “A first person POV for Romano during and after WW2. His thoughts as he fights and survives. Beware of angst.” (completed)

Just Add one Mermaid’s Tear “To gain something of ultimate value; the unthinkable must be preformed. The line is etched upon the brow of every nation, the taste of the water still on their lips. What happens though when one nation desires the fountain of youth once more?” (completed)

Until the Moss Had Reached Our Lips, and Covered Up Our Names “In a city filled to the brim with gangs, all the territory split between them, peace has lasted for the past sixteen years. It’s a tentative peace, won after the last massive gang war reshaped the entire city. Except all it takes is one domino to fall, and the Vargas patriarch is dead, leaving behind Antonio to lead his house, who isn’t even his blood relative. With an untried Head, the balance of power has started to shift again, and it seems as good a time as any to start calling in old debts and revenges.” (on-going)

The Bet “When someone kisses you, and then moves away you’d think that would be it. But when Antonio comes back from Spain he wants Lovino to be his again. Except Lovino now hates Antonio…which sucks for Lovino because Antonio isn’t going to let go that easily.” (completed)

Wings “People ask me a lot why I love him. Why I spend so much time chasing him when he never returns my feelings. It’s because I see something they don’t.” (on-going)

My Heart is Drenched in Wine “Wine and romance. More importantly, when you cut through my wine!fangirling, this is a story about Lovino and Antonio and how they find their way back together (in spite of the past and occasionally the present) as they attempt to make wine and sometimes love.” (completed)

Of Two Minds “Feliciano and Lovino are living on the streets, with a secret that keeps them from getting close to anyone. Will their lives get better or worse after being forced to join a pirate crew, and what will happen when their secret finally comes out? Rated T for some (minor) violence, Romano’s mouth, and some angsty feelings. Pirate AU.” (completed)

Beats of Fever “Antonio Fernández Carriedo is a doctor working in Madrid dealing with a crush on an Italian tourist when the tensions in Spain reach a head and Civil War breaks out.” (on-going)

All of Our Sins “Lovino is Catholic, but he’s not entirely sure what he believes. Nevertheless, he and his brother Feliciano are forced to attend confirmation classes. When Lovino meets their group leader- bizarre, cheerful Antonio; one of the first people to treat Lovino like he matters- things get complicated. When they find this church is much darker than it appears, things get terrifying. Fast.” (completed)

Es Sólo Tu Corazón “Lovino has been in love with Spain for as long as he can remember. All he wants is to be with his former caretaker, but he soon finds out that the Spain he knew as a child is no longer there…and the real one is far more dangerous.” (on-going)

There Goes My Life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

As We Were “Rich, bored and unhappy, Lovino Vargas is the heir to his grandfather’s wine brand. Antonio is the restless young traveller prone to attacks of claustrophobia. For them, falling in love is a journey. Literally. Spamano, Human AU, multi-chapter. Warnings for language and sexual themes.” (completed)

NekoRoma “Antonio has been feeling lonely with his recent break up with his on/off boyfriend. The solution: a new kitten that his boss doesn’t want. Just as he gets used to this cat, a new challenge is thrown at him. How do you teach a cat to be human?” (completed)

Summer Sensations “The hot summer nights of Madrid bring many things, but one very special night changes two lives forever. Lovino learns that love is not such a frivolous thing after all.” (completed)

Fools Like Us  “What starts out as a normal Friday night for the “Bad Touch Trio” soon becomes an opportunity for Francis to use his favorite word in reference to his best friends. Unfortunately, Gilbert and Antonio couldn’t possibly have fallen for people who would return their feelings easily, but Francis is determined to help them out despite his own relationship-or lack thereof.” (completed)

Hear Me “Antonio and Lovino are trying their best to get by in high school, but between the stresses of grades, family, friends, and heartache, it’s a lot harder than it looks.” (completed)

Fame and Fortune “Lovino Vargas is a barkeeper and reluctant Stasi informant. As much as he despises what he does, he obeys the terrifying Red Army colonel, Ivan Braginsky. That is, until the secretive and frustratingly attractive Antonio Fernandez Carriedo arrives in his life and breaks all the rules. Inspired by the Elvis Presley song of the same name.” (on-going)

It’s all Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

My Antonio “Going against everything in his strict, Catholic upbringing, Lovino has fallen desperately into love and lust for his family’s Spanish stable boy, Antonio.” (completed)

Sound Life “Spain is dead, leaving Romano distraught and wishing for there to be a way for him to see his beloved Spaniard alive and healthy…Only to wake up in a strange alternate world… with another Spain seeking his affection.” (completed)

Possessively Scary “Romano begins college late with his brother after their nonno passes away. When entering, he meets a very strange Spaniard. The man is odd but still attractive at the same time. As they get closer, Romano learns more about Antonio and doesn’t know if he should be scared of the man or not. Can he get out of something he got himself into?” (on-going)

This Dance “Antonio wants Lovino to be his dancepartner at Austria’s ball. Lovino, struggling with his growing feelings of love and affection for everyone’s favorite tomato-bastard as always, agrees. Now, there could be worse things, right?” (completed)

Powdered Sugar “Truth, like powdered sugar, tastes sweet but goes down cold. If a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down, we might need a bit more.” (completed)

Singles “Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert are three friends who suffered their first heartbreaks at the age of fifteen, and made a pact to never fall in love again. That will change for Antonio when he first lays eyes on a brown-haired young man in a club…” (completed)

A Heated Story “Sky High / superpower hs au. wip. Lovino Vargas is a new kid at Sky High with his brother. He has the power to control fire. Only one problem, he hates the heat. Spamano, and other ships. Doesn’t actually have anything to do with the movie, just used the school.” (on-going)

I Don’t Hate You “Lovino and his brothers face the unknown while on a mission to Earth. The Italian angel comes up against more than he bargained for when a dark angel takes a liking to him and now he and Feliciano might be cast out.” (completed)

Like all things, it ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from.” (completed)

Disegno e Colore “A young, apprenticing artist, Lovino craves rationality, perfection, and self-possession, and has curated his life to one day attain that. He never expected a chaotic and brash painter to barrel into his life and test everything Lovino thought he wanted and knew of himself, his art, and his heart.” (on going)

Land Beyond Dreams “Antonio is saved from death by someone he’d spoken to only a few times, but who lost his life in the process. Grief-stricken, he only wishes he could have gotten to know his savior, when his dreams suddenly become reality…or are they still only dreams?” (completed)

It’s All Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

A tale of endurance “Lovino had no idea what to do. Knowing that your life will be over in half a year tends to do that to you. Well, one thing he knew for sure. No one would ever discover this until the day he was pushing daisies. And that was a fact.” (completed)

The Risk of Love “Romano is dead and Spain is broken, spiralling into the deep, blackness of depression. And as he locks himself from the outside world, isolating himself from his friends, from everyone, in his oblivion of pain, Romano find’s he’s the only one who can help. Only, how can useless ghost like him even dream to help the slowly dying love of his life?” (completed)

Dance with me “Lovino Vargas started taking tango lessons completely by accident. Who would have thought that one day he wouldn’t mind those hands roaming over his body? That he would be dancing with his teacher as if there was no one in the room but the two of them?” (on-going)

Fireflies “Lovino was abandoned in Italy with his grandfather at age seven because his parents liked his little brother better than they liked him. On his way back from America, he sits next to a far too happy Spaniard. But, when this childish Spaniard turns out to be his new teacher, what will happen? And with a field trip to Venice on the way, what antics will they get up to?” (on-going)

El Corazón del Pirata “Fate is once kind, twice cruel. And Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo does not have a heart, nor does he fall in love with his prisoners. But Lovino Vargas might just be the fuel to his flame - certainly there’s more to him than meets the eye.” (completed)

More Than Lust “Why did the Spaniard always hope for the impossible? That Romano would come to him one day, confessing his feelings, and they would make LOVE? That they would cry out each others names, he could hold the Italian, wake up the next morning, and he would still be there?” (completed)

The Prince and the Pauper “When Prince Feliciano goes missing, it is up to a poor servant boy Romano to step in to take his place and thwart an evil plan to take over the kingdom. However, falling in love was something neither one anticipated. Based off of the Princess and the Pauper.” (completed)

Talking to My Shadow “Lovino spends his life telling doctors about his brother, Feliciano. They hear about his look-alike brother everyday but never see him. Lovino is finally taken to a new physiologist and he meets the doctor’s son, a springy little Spaniard who’s excited to help his new friend, no matter the difficulty. Will this illness mean a life time of seclusion for Lovino or can he win?” (completed)

Spend my time dancing “As much as Lovino loved seeing the upperclassman in his soccer jersey, he’d much rather help him take it off. It’s about time they started playing on the same field. AU. SpaMano. Various others. All’s fair in love and soccer.” (completed)

Maybe, Just Maybe “Romano couldn’t help but be instantly attracted to the stranger on the train, the one with bright green eyes and an unforgettable smile. How could something so simple end up changing his life so much?” (completed)

Dead Alone “Lovino drains the life from anything he touches, seriously. It seems that he’s the embodiment of death while his lively twin brother is his counterpart life. He has isolated himself from everyone, for their own protection. So what happens when a new transfer student decides to take an interest in him his freshman year of high school?” (on-going)

Lovino and the Conquistador “Lovino lived a life of simple pleasures; a good book, his own little world and an odd, but loving, family. However, in order to save his family, he must take their place as prisoner of a hideous beast within a gloomy castle. Based on “Beauty and the Beast” (completed)

Truth Be Told “The Well of Uncomfortable Truths is discovered & deals Spain a hard fact- "Whenever you said you loved him, you didn’t really mean it. You were thinking of his brother. They were empty words.” Can Romano be convinced about whom the Well was talking about?” (completed)

Scaliest “When his entire life is taken from him, Antonio vowed to slay the beast that ruined his life no matter the cost. But on his travels he meets a secretive, sassy bard who might be more helpful than either of them realize. Is vengeance the answer or is there more at stake?” (on-going)

All I’ve lost “Lovino Vargas has slowly fallen into the trap that is Anorexia. He meets Antonio who is a strangely kind kid. Lovino thinks maybe, just maybe…there is hope. Warnings: Depression, anorexia, bulimia, mental illness and bullying.” (completed)

Infection “Antonio didn’t know what to think of the man who randomly showed up in his home… completely naked. Yet, he still found himself drawn to this “Lovino”, only to be thrown into his worst nightmare.” (on-going)

Tomato Angel “What happens when Antonio get’s jealous? (Aftermath of ‘Awesome Being Evil’)” (completed)

Step-Lovers “King Romulus is getting married to Queen Isabel. While the wedding goes smoothly, things don’t go all that smooth for Antonio and Lovino. The heat is especially turned up when it’s decided that there will be a competition for who gets to be heir to the throne.” (completed)

There goes my life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

Broken Wings, Healed Hearts “Junior Lovino Vargas, a broken angel, has a dark secret he’s determined to keep to himself, now matter how much of an outcast it makes him. But will his new neighbor, Antonio, change that?” (completed)

The Reunion “Light or Dark?” Lovino asked. Feliciano studied him before answering. “Light. Light always wins” When Feliciano Vargas catches the eye of a mysterious man only by the name of “The Lord,” he finds himself and his brother on an adventure ending in Germany’s infamous Black Forest. However, the Lord’s affections are not what they appear to be and Lovino finds himself worried there is a worse threat other than some creep trying to get into his brother’s pants. (on-going)

Slowly But Surely In Love “Lovino Vargas turns fifteen, the age at which the words of peoples’ soul-mates say to them when they first meet is branded onto their wrists. Feliciano has a brand as soon as the hand strikes midnight, but why doesn’t Lovino?” (completed)

Life with Lyrics Lovino Style “Lovino struggles with what he believes is a one-sided crush and his completely oblivious, also entirely too cheerful, brother. Mentions of suicide, but not a death fic!” (completed)

Walking the Line “Maybe stumbling into Walmart in search of supplies during the end of the world wasn’t as good of an idea as Lovino initially thought. Nothing screamed desperate like raiding the aisles of a fucking Walmart for food while a hoard of the undead snarled at him from outside, but that didn’t seem to matter to the armed trio he stumbled into, or more specifically, the odd Spaniard munching on Skittles. His ideas were getting to be pretty lackluster these days.” (ongoing)

Hymn to the Sea “Please, call me Antonio,” he says. “Oh, and Lovino?” “What?” Lovino snaps, a little sharper than he wants when his brain has finally caught up to his embarrassment and he realizes he’s acting like a love-sick child. He finds he still can’t keep up when Antonio’s smile changes into something different: not the friendliness it was earlier nor the comforting warmth it was moments ago. No, this one is affectionate. “I prefer your smile over Feliciano’s any day,” he says, quiet and honest. (completed)

I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You “Throughout the 500 years they spent together, Antonio never stopped reminding Lovino of how special he was, and Lovino never stopped making Antonio the happiest man on earth.” (completed)

Lentamente “Antonio and Lovino are struggling with catastrophic life changes. A traumatic event leaves Antonio scared of his own shadow; a romantic betrayal destroys Lovino’s ability to trust people. And when coping seems impossible, can dance save them?” (completed)

We’d Be Together “Something felt off about Antonio’s new home. The stairs creaked, the windows groaned, and in the mirror he saw a face he didn’t know. The face was young but the gestures old; Toni began a romance untold. He felt an issue new to most… if only he could touch Lovino the ghost.” (completed)

Blessed WIth A Curse “Monsters are real… and they didn’t just hide in your closet or under your bed. Too bad they came in the form of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo- a Spaniard too sexy for his own good. / AU Vampire!AntonioxLovino” (on-going)

Speak  “Lovino is shy. So is Antonio. Oh dear…” (completed)

You Belong With Me “Lovino wished for a lot of things. He wished he had a family or food or fitting clothes or friends but mainly just wished to belong. He doesn’t quite get what he wished for when he meets filthy rich Antonio, who just came from Spain and has settled in the same town as the little thief. Still…it’s a start.” (completed)

The Witch of Sicily “There were still whispers, rumors that the witch of Sicily remained in that forest, cursing all who would come near. It was a place many feared to tread, treated almost as sacred ground. Only fools would dare incite the wrath of the witch by entering that place. Only fools…and pirates.” (on-going)

We the Dreamers “New York City, 1940: Antonio is a recently arrived refugee from Spain, a scarred soldier with firm political convictions. For Lovino, everything is pointless and nothing ever lasts. The two of them live, love and dream desperately, as World War Two threatens to take it all away.” (completed)

Guide Me “After witnessing a startling event, Lovino Vargas finds himself stricken with blindness from a psychological misfortune called ‘conversion disorder’. Without anyone to guide him, he is placed with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a novice seeing-eye counselor, who will try to help him regain his sight and if not, teach him how to live in the new dark, lonely world ahead of him.” (completed)

Pirate’s Lullaby “It was the last thing in the world that Lovino Vargas wanted. To fall in love with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. But when the pirate takes him aboard his ship, Lovino learns that maybe it’s not so bad to be a pirate.” (on-going)

Infamous “Lovino was a childhood actor, but once the show he was a part of got canceled he thought he was free and could leave all the acting and fame up to his brother Feliciano. However, when a 'follow up’ episode is decided upon ten years later, he ends up going back. There he sees a familiar, face; Antonio Carriedo, a singer with his eye on Lovi making normal impossible” (completed)

Guilty Bliss “Lovino has had a drug problem for years that he’s never been able to stop. With his debts getting out of hand, Lovino finds himself in situations that made him wish he had quit.” (completed)

Bottoms Up! “Follow Lovino on his weird and, well, at least quite interesting trip around Europe in order to find out some of the greatest secrets ever about himself, Europe, tomato-shaped alarm clocks and the past of his lovely, but complicated Spanish partner.” (completed)

A Trip To Spain Could Only End In “Lovino is a foreign exchange student in Spain. Things were going just brilliantly before he happened upon a Spanish restaurant in the heart of Madrid where he laid eyes on a certain Spanish Sex God…” (completed)

The Pirates Treasure “Pirate Captain Antonio wants one thing, and one thing only; a mermaid. Boy or girl doesn’t matter, as long as they are royalty and can make him jewels.He’s got his wish, but dealing with this prince is going to be much harder than he thought.” (completed)

Strike a Pose, Fake a Smile “Antonio loves the stage; Romano hates it. So when he’s “convinced” into coming to drama club, he’s not gonna like it. In fact, he’s going to say things that he’ll regret. And because he’s such a good actor, this time Antonio believes him. Uh-oh.” (completed)

A Helping Hand “Antonio owns a cafe low on business. One day a strange boy comes in, running from a group of men and covered in wounds. Antonio offers for him to stay and repay him with work. As payment, the boy Lovino begins to make new dishes to bring more people into the cafe. Who is this boy and why won’t he tell Antonio anything but his name and age?” (completed)

A Beautiful Story “Lovino Romano Vargas is a suicidal designer who is unhappy with his fate. One day, he chances to meet Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who turns his life upside down.” (completed)

Careless “This year, Antonio had priorities: grades, girlfriend and the Football competition, securing college with his two best friends! But that was before the Vargas moved in with all their drama including kidnapping, threats, and football talents. If anyone asks Lovino, not getting killed would be a clear ecstatic success. He is just what Antonio needed, or not.” (on-going)

This is it for now but I might update this if I get any suggestions, if I remember any fanfic that I missed or if I find any new good ones. If you’re an author and want me to add your fanfic or if you just want to suggest me one don’t be afraid to PM me! (because this is a masterlist after all)

[cantteachanoldguardnewquotes]

Together

Please enjoy some fluff I wrote while stressing about stuff.

Comments always appreciated

Summery: It has been a hundred years and it's the first night Booker is back with his family.

Warnings: nightmares, mention of death, mention of torture, both brief, some violence but it gets better.

A/N: Andy is immortal again in this.

Features: So much fluff, cuddle piles, flirting, acceptance, comfort, forgiveness, family love, happy ending.

Word count: 2555

It was the first night of having Booker back from exile. He was trying to figure out where he stood after so long and the rest of them were doing there best to make him feel welcome. After all, he had served his sentence without complaint even after Quynh had left him to stay with Andy. He had really cleaned up his act and was still working on being better.

Nicky and Nile were making hachis parmentier, french onion soup, and cherry clafoutis for dessert all on honor of Booker's return home.

"Nicky, if you were a fruit you'd be a fineapple." Joe teased popping another cherry in his mouth.

Nicky grinned, narrowing his eyes thinking of the perfect response. "And if you, Joe, were a vegetable you'd be a cutecumber."

Joe barked out a laugh, closing the distance between the two of them and wrapped his arm around Nicky's waist. "Is that right?" He cocked an eyebrow. "You think I'm..." He paused biting his lip seductively. "Cute?"

Nicky's eyes sparkled with delight at his husband's reaction. "It's crossed my mind on occasion." Nicky wiped a smear of floor on Joe's nose.

"Ok, that's enough flirting. Save it for after the meals done please." Nile interjected when she realized they would do this all night if she didn't put her foot down. "Nicky has work to do and you aren't helping one bit." She pulled Joe's arm off Nicky and started pushing him toward the dining room.

Joe gapsed in mock surprise and let her push him out of the room, out of the corner of his eye he saw her trying not to laugh she was in just as high of spirits as the rest of them.

Booker, Andy and Quynh sat around the table playing some blackjack before dinner.

The kitchen and dining room were connected so they all could see and hear everything that was going on.

"I see nothing's changed?" Booker smirked keeping his eyes on his cards. He was trying not to show it too much, but oh he'd missed his family. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

Andy chuckled. "Never."

"Joe, you can join us." Quynh patted the seat next to her.

He accepted and sat down finding himself kitty corner with Booker.

Booker in the short time he'd been back was still walking on eggshells around Joe and Nicky. He knew they had forgiven him but he was being cautious all the same. He wouldn't blame them if they had any hard feelings.

Joe had mixed emotions about Booker being back. His betrayal still stung but he was happy with how far Booker had come. The truth was he had missed him, sometimes more than he cared to admit, so he was doing his best to let bygones be bygones, it would just take a little getting used to having him back.

They played a few more rounds before Nile came out of the kitchen carrying food. "Dinner is served!"

Quynh jumped up and ran to the kitchen to help carry everything over.

Joe went and got drinks and cups, while Andy cleaned up the game.

It took no time and they were all sitting around the table with the food steaming in front of them.

Nicky smiled at everyone's anticipation, taking in his family's warm energy. "Dig in."

"Oh babe, you've outdone yourself." Joe said closing his eyes and savoring the hachis parmentier.

"Hey now, Nile helped too." Nicky said.

"Nile, this is outstanding." Joe grinned ear to ear at her.

"Thanks, it was fun. This was my first time making it and Nicky helped a lot."

"Well I would have never guessed you hadn't made it a hundred times before." Quynh chimed in.

"How does our French guest of honor feel they did?" Andy asked Booker.

Booker had been touched, even moved, when Nile told him they had picked out some of his favorite dishes for dinner tonight. He had offered to help but Nile and Nicky would hear none of it. 'Perhaps tomorrow' Nicky had teased.

"It is..." He shook his head a little, almost as if he was in disbelief. "The best I've ever had."

Nile beamed, and Nicky happily took another bite. They were both glad their efforts had turned out so well.

They talked and they laughed, told stories about their time spent apart, teased and joked. It was wonderful getting back to a new normal.

"Here I'll get the dishes." Booker volunteered after dessert.

"Someone's on their best behavior." Andy teased.

Booker wasn't sure how to respond, he really was still trying his best to make amends.

"Hey." Andy saw his hesitation and grabbed his arm so he would look at her. "I'm glad your back Book."

Almost as a reflex his eyes darted to Joe and Nicky, but there wasn't anything unpleasant in their expressions. "I'm glad to be back." He said refocusing on Andy.

"I'll put the food away if you've got dishes." She patted his arm before getting to work.

Quynh helped as well with cleanup while the other three went into the living room to pick out a movie.

"No horror, not tonight." Joe said.

Nile grabbed the remote before they could. "But I love horror movies." Nile grinned an evil grin. She knew Joe could only take so much before he was out, even with Nicky holding him. "What are you feeling Nicky?"

Nicky shrugged. "Maybe something funny?"

Nile nodded her head. "Hmm, a comedy does sound pleasent." She agreed.

Joe squeezed Nicky's hand so Nile wouldn't see, grateful for the light-hearted suggestion.

Quynh came into the room and saw Nile scrolling through the comedy section. "Nice." She liked watching almost anything so long as there weren't people drowning. Nile could always talk her into watching horror movies unlike the rest of them who were more hit or miss.

Quynh looked at the seating arrangements, and thought for a moment. "This won't do, Nicky will you be a dear and come help me?"

Nicky didn't even ask, just followed her out of the room.

They came back a few minutes later with an armful of comforters and pillows. She began making a pile on the floor against the couch so they could lean on something and Nicky dropped his armful of blankets and pillows where she directed.

"There are too many of us to sit comfortabley on the couch, we'll have to improvise." She stood back to admire her handiwork.

Joe chose a spot and pulled Nicky down beside him so he could lay his head on Nicky's shoulder.

Nile curled herself almost into a ball and rested her head on a pillow on Nicky's lap. "What about one of these three?" She asked.

The rest of them read the descriptions.

"The one with the cruise ship." Nicky suggested.

"I second that." Joe said.

"Sounds good to me." Quynh added. "We're gonna start the movie!" She yelled to the slowpokes in the kitchen.

Andy came around the corner followed closely by Booker.

He paused, trying to decide where to sit among all the blankets.

"Don't be shy." Andy said guiding him over to where Quynh was sitting pressed up against Nile.

Quynh pulled him down so he was sitting right next to her and Andy sat down on her lap and rested against Booker's shoulder.

"Ready?" Nile asked before pushing play.

She got a chorus of confirmations from everyone and started the movie.

Nicky had been right a comedy was just what everyone needed on a happy day like today. They all enjoyed it and relaxed.

Quynh joked she was going to buy Andy some of the ugly outfits the characters were wearing.

At one point Nile had to sit up because she and Nicky were laughing so hard at one of the jokes.

Booker and Joe had a debate on how long someone could live on a cruise ship without getting caught by staff.

Andy fell asleep with a fourth of the movie to go.

When it was over they laughed and carried on about some of the jokes and how unrealistic the ending had been.

When the concern died down they all bid each other goodnight going to their rooms.

Nile, relaxed as she was and as tried as she was, still couldn't fall asleep. She finally gave up after two hours and went to the kitchen to get some water.

Andy was already in the kitchen which at this point never surprised Nile.

"Can't sleep?" Andy asked.

Nile shook her head.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Why is it even, on happy days, does it feel like nothing can chase away the dark?" Nile asked taking a drink of her water.

Andy studied her for a moment. "The last job still bothering you?"

Nile swallowed hard and looked down at the floor. "I know it probably shouldn't, but yeah."

Andy gently lifted Nile's chin. "I wasn't asking you to justify anything Nile. I'm asking if you're ok." She said kindly.

Nile sighed. "I guess the answer is no."

Andy pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry."

The last job had gone all wrong. The person they were trying to rescue was killed before they had made it in, they had to fight there way out through tear gas and ak-47s, Joe had died horribly, Nicky had his face bashed in guarding Joe while he was out, Quynh lost an arm, and that didn't even cover how many bullets they'd all eaten.

No one who had attacked them survived.

It was a terrible job and the noise and confusion still troubled Nile.

It might still haunt some of the others as well but if it did she felt they were better at hiding it.

"Will I ever be able to see that stuff and sleep after?" It has been a hundred years already, her hopes weren't high.

"With a heart as big as yours I doubt it. Believe me, we all struggle with nightmares, your not alone in this. Will it lessen as time goes on? Maybe, probably, but it will never truly go away. That's just the curse we are forced to live with." She kissed the top of Nile's head. "That's probably not the answer you were hoping for."

"You never give me the answers I want to hear." Nile said teasing her.

"But like I said you don't have to face this by yourself. Come sleep with Quynh and I. It helps when you're not alone." Andy took her hand and led her to the room they were sharing.

Quynh was asleep and didn't wake up when Andy laid down next to her. Nile laid down next to Andy and they were both out in no time.

Around three in the morning Nicky woke up to the sound of a shout. His hand flew to his gun and he pressed into Joe feeling him at his back to make sure he was safe.

He'd recognize that cry anywhere and jumped up running straight to Booker's room.

He kept a sharp lookout for any intruders in the house and swung Booker's door open while keeping as much of his body hidden behind the door frame as he could.

The lights were still off and he didn't see any signs of something being wrong. With great care he peered around the door and stepped further into the room.

A lamp snapped on and he pointed his gun at an apologetic Booker, who had his hands in the air.

"Ah, Nicky, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you let alone wake you up, sorry about that, you can go back to bed, I'm alright." Booker was talking fast, trying to get all his words out at once.

Nicky did one more sweep with his eyes around the room before putting his gun down.

By now Joe had made his way down the hall and peered into the room. "All clear?" He asked gun in his hand.

"We're fine." Nicky assured him. "What happened?" Nicky asked turning his attention back to Booker.

"Nothing but a nightmare." He said waving them off, he attempted a small smile but it looked more like a grimace.

Nicky wouldn't budge, there was still the faintest hint of terror in Booker's eyes. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Tell me, if you can." He laid his hand on Booker's arm.

Booker squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head. He couldn't tell them how he'd tried to do a job and got kidnapped then tortured for nearly two year. How every night for two years he had wished for death more so than usual and knew that neither death nor help was coming. But it still haunted him, tormented his dreams, sometimes he could even feel imaginary pain from the things they did to him. He couldn't tell them, he wouldn't, that was the same fate he had signed them up for and he couldn't bare to live with it if they told him it was karma. He knew it was.

"It's nothing." He whispered, not looking at either of them.

"You don't have to face it alone anymore." Andy said, she had joined Joe by the door and had watched most of the interaction. "You're home Book." She walked over to him and took his hand. "Do these dreams happen often now?"

Booker hesitated he still didn't feel like this should be any of their problem. He wanted to be able to carry this on his own, no matter how heavy the load.

Joe narrowed his eyes, not without kindness, studying Booker. "Be honest."

Booker looked at him, and saw all the concern and sincerity he thought he might never see again. "Nearly every night." He admitted.

None of them were a stranger to night terrors it came with the job, but dealing with them on your own, they haven't had to do that in a long time, they knew how difficult it was.

"Come, join us." Andy gently tugged on his hand. "Nile is already sleeping with us it won't make any difference to add more."

"I-" He started to protest, he couldn't put them out on his first night back, they'd already gone above and beyond for him.

"She's the boss." Joe grinned.

"Don't argue." Nicky added, he was smiling as well.

Booker didn't say anything just stood up to follow her.

Nicky grabbed his pillows and blankets so there would be enough.

Nile and Quynh were both awake when they walked in, Andy had asked them to stay so that Booker wouldn't feel too overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry for waking everyone." Booker said sheepishly.

"Don't give it another thought." Quynh insisted and the rest of them agreed.

Nicky laid his stuff down by Nile but didn't turn to go back to bed just yet.

Nile noticed his thoughtful expression. "You can stay too." She offered squeezing his hand.

Nicky looked over at Joe.

Joe smiled and walked over to kiss Nicky's temple. "Room for two more?" He asked Andy.

"Always."

They weren't exactly sure how, but they got everyone to fit in a comfortable enough pile with Nile and Booker in the middle, surrounded by their family.

This was safe, this was home, and the nightmares stayed away.

[sylvies-chen]

Okay, this is a sad one, or angsty, so sorry about this, but I’m loving the song “This is On You” by Maisie Peters! It’s literally my worst case scenario for Jay and Hailey, but I feel like it’s kind of a possibility?! I don’t know! But thank you for all your writing - love it :)

Hi anon, I feel like you’ve read my mind because I’m a BIG Maisie Peters fan !!  I made this into a tiny AU drabble where she and Jay fight before she leaves for New York but it’s still pretty angsty because that song just hits you in the feels. Hope you like it! Thank you for all the love, by the way. I really appreciate it :)

“I can’t believe this.”

Hailey paces around her apartment, ignoring Jay’s eyes watching her worriedly. Voight had just sat in the precinct not even an hour earlier and had told her she’s going to New York to work with the FBI. She gets that she’s been off lately, and she swears she could try and get everything under control if she had another chance, but New York? That’s far. It’s far, and it’s unfair, and it’s not home. She doesn’t want to have to go, even if it’s just temporary. Jay had been able to tell that something was off with her when she had left, and he had come over within minutes. They’re usual habit of wanting to be alone and refusing to let each other be alone either way still remains strong, so he knocks at the door rapidly. She had told him almost immediately after he walked in through the door, and now he’s sitting down and watching her spiral with rage. 

“Hailey, you’re going to be fine,” Jay tries comforting her from the couch. “It’s not for too long, right? We’ll all still be here when you get back.” 

“Yeah, but New York? That’s like a million miles away! This is ridiculous,” she huffs. 

“It’s only 790.5, actually.” 

“What?” She stops her pacing and turns to him, confused. 

“It’s 790.5 miles from Chicago to New York,” he corrects her.  

Her fury is interrupted only momentarily by her intrigue at the implications of him looking up the distance. “You looked it up?”

“You ever heard of Google?” His sarcastic quip doesn’t do a good job of downplaying the sweet gesture like Hailey knows he wants to, but she figures it’s best to just drop it and resumes her pacing. 

“790 miles,” she shakes her head bitterly. “He can’t just do this to me. I start doing the things he does and suddenly I’m crossing a line and being too ruthless. Well if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.”

“I mean…” Jay starts but looks hesitant as he keeps going, “You have been acting off lately. Is it really so bad to take a break, clear your head?” 

And that’s how their fight starts. 

She can hardly believe what she’s hearing. “My head is fine, Jay,” she snaps. “Why are you taking his side on this?” 

He stands up now, makes his way over to her, and cuts her off, preventing her from pacing. His hands fly instinctively to her shoulders, comforting her as best he can. She knows he’s being sweet, feels her stomach twist and turn at his touch. Still, she can’t help but feel agitated. He should be too, to be honest. It bothers her that he doesn’t seem the least bit upset at her leaving. “Hails, you know I’m always on your side,” he soothes, his voice raspy and low. “But you haven’t been the same since Cam’s death.”

“He was my informant-- ”

“Yeah I know, and Darius Walker was Voight’s. Look. I’m just saying, New York could be good for you. That's why Voight’s making you go in the first place, isn’t it?” 

Hailey feels her heart sink into her stomach. She can’t shake her fear that he wants her gone. Her insecurity comes out as irritation though. “Why do I feel like you want to get rid of me?!” 

His brows scrunch up and his tone becomes defensive, indignant. “Hailey, come on. You can’t be serious, can you? The last thing I want is for you to leave. It makes me sick to my stomach, for god’s sake. But I’m trying to help you here!”

“I don’t need your help,” she blurts out before she can stop herself. As soon as it comes out, she regrets it. It’s not like she means it. It’s not like she wants to fight with him. She wants to just crash onto her couch and eat Bartolli’s deep dish with him and then fall asleep in his arms. It’s something that only the deepest, most guarded part of her yearns for, and it drives her crazy in all the right ways. But she blurts out that she doesn’t need her help anyway, even if it’s far from the truth, and she can’t take it back. She feels her walls coming up and knows she’s too far down this path of anger and self-preservation. 

“You know what? Fine,” he scoffs. “If you don’t want my help, then I won’t give it. It’s your own damn grave you’re digging, Hailey. I’m not going to kill myself trying to save you from it.” 

“Like I said, I don’t need you to save me.” That statement is partially true. She’s been taking care of herself her entire life, she hardly needs anyone to come to her rescue. She knows he doesn’t mean it like though. He just wants to help, just as he always does. Still, she’s too amped up on her own anger to know when to keep her mouth shut. 

“So… what, that’s it? You won’t talk to me about any of it?” She doesn’t answer, just stands there awkwardly unable to find the words that would fix this. Jay nods, bites the inside of his cheek. Throughout all of this giant fight, this awkward aftermath section hurts Hailey the most. He won’t even look her in the eye. “I think I should go.” 

“Yeah,” she nods. No, she thinks to herself. I want you to stay. I want to just sit back down on the couch and pretend this never happened. How can she miss him so much already when he’s standing right there?

He looks her in the eye after what feels like forever, and he just looks so… hurt. There’s something else there in his eyes, a longing for something that he can’t quite find in her. She doesn’t know what he’s thinking, but she wishes she did so she could give him whatever he’s looking for in her eyes. He doesn’t seem to find it, gives up, and sighs. “Ok.” He doesn’t say another word until he’s halfway out the door, turns around to face her, and speaks again, “I’ll, uh… I’ll see you when you get back then.” 

“Yeah,” she says again because there isn’t much else she can bear to say. “Bye, Jay.” Her voice is soft and filled with regret. 

“Bye,” he whispers back, turning around to leave. 

She leaves for New York three days later and feels miserable the entire trip. The airline seats her next to some married couple who have a very different idea of what the “No PDA” sign means, and she gets to New York on waste collection day so the whole city smells like hot, steamy garbage. 

She misses Jay. She had missed him when he left her apartment that night, missed him when she had hopped off the airplane and seen a pizza place with pizza that tastes like cardboard, misses him on her first day at the FBI when one of the agents spills his cup of noodles on himself. She just misses him.

They left things so terribly. She thinks about calling, about texting, about saying she’s sorry and she didn’t mean any of it and she can’t stand them not talking, but she doesn’t. A week goes by and she finally gets into the groove of things, but it’s nothing like it is in Chicago. She thinks it’s for the best, that the only way to get over this fight is to stop thinking about Jay altogether. But absence makes the heart grow fonder, and with every day she finds herself missing their partnership more and more. 

She gets a text from him during her second week. It’s a short text, five words. Yet five words make her happier than an entire two weeks in New York. 

Jay: I’m sorry. 

I miss you. 

Those small little words are all she needs to know that eventually, they’ll be okay.

[cecilspeaks]

162 - “Alpha”

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Fear makes the heart grow louder. And death makes the heart grow flowers. Welcome to Night Vale.

Amelia Anna Alfaro was always the best at everything. On the day she was born, she was named the healthiest baby at Night Vale General Hospital. The doctors had never seen a healthier baby. “What a healthy baby,” they said from behind a bullet proof two-way mirror, as they operated the robotic arms that carefully held the infant aloft. The doctors high-fived each other, missing slightly. The trick, by the way, is to keep your eye on the other person’s elbow. That or glue high-powered magnets to each person’s hand. And all of the nurses cheered from dozens of feet down the hallway, where they were playing with a standard Tarot deck, common in most neonatal units. This cheering was unrelated to Amelia’s birth. The nurses had drawn the ten of swords, which is everyone’s favorite card. It features a relaxed man receiving acupuncture by a river.

Amelia learned to walk at 4 months, and to talk at 6 months. She read Plato’s “Republic” for the first time at age 4. She taught herself German and began to write sonnets in that language at age 7. At age 10, she won her first engineering competition after designing a concrete canoe that could float even on the most turbulent water. There is no body of water in Night Vale, so she had to prove her work using a software she wrote that generated three-dimensional models to corroborate her advanced mechanical physics formulas. She even won the state spelling bee five years in a row, from ages 9 to 13. Her streak was only broken when the spelling bee was canceled, after the sponsors lost their dictionary.

Amelia was always the best, and her mother knew it. Her mother was proud of her daughter, or rather, her mother was proud of herself for producing such a daughter. Or rather, she was proud of both, in a way that was difficult for them to untangle. Amelia’s mother was named Yvette. Yvette could not afford much for her daughter. She worked long hours to earn the respect of her bosses, which (-) [0:04:32] her promotions and larger paychecks, but Yvette had hit the glass ceiling. She did not want this limitation for her daughter. Her daughter would need to be smarter, more talented, and more driven than she. Yvette wanted Amelia’s value to the world to be so great that no one could deny her success.

Yvette recognized Amelia’s specialness and pushed hard to make her even more special, signing Amelia up for athletics and adult learning classes and piano lessons. Amelia sometimes pushed against this. “Mother, I don’t want to” was met with, “But you will, Amelia.” “Why?” was met with, “Because I said so.” “I hate you for this” was met with, “You will love me for it later.”

Begrudgingly, Amelia fulfilled her mother’s wishes. It wasn’t because she understood her mother’s motivation to secure her child a better life, nor was it because Amelia did not have the stomach to fight back. No, Amelia did it because it all came so easy. She was a black belt, a sharp shooter, an academic decathlon champion. She wrote her first novel at age 12, it was called “A Golden Age for Parachuting”, in which an all-Jewish female parachute team wins Olympic gold in 1936 Berlin in front of Adolf Hitler. In the publisher’s rejection letter, the editor said the novel was “immaculately written, however parachuting stories are out of vogue. Do you have anything about magical baseball players?” Amelia did. It was a novel called “One Last Swing for the Tuesday Boys”, but she had written it in German and did not have time to translate the “Dienstag Jungen” manuscript, because she was currently taking a course on bird husbandry.

Yvette enrolled the teenage Amelia in night classes at the community college, where she took English 113, “Sonnets are for lovers”; structural engineering 212, “Buttress is a funny word”; and meteorology 301, “Clouds y’all, amirite?” She earned all As and scores for college credit before she even graduated high school. None of these challenges were difficult for Amelia. She was the best at everything.

But her life was not perfect. Because of the voices. It was the voices that made life hard for Amelia. From birth, she heard the constant chatter of dozens of people. None of the voices spoke directly to  Amelia, they just talked and talked about their lives, and Amelia was afraid of the voices and what the voices might imply about herself. She found solace in puzzles, crosswords, nonograms, acrostics, cryptics, Sudoku, which I think is the one where you have to catch a bunch of marbles with a lever operated hippopotamus. Her mother hated Amelia’s puzzle vice. If she caught Amelia doing puzzles, Yvette would make Amelia go practice archery or write poetry or at least listen to classical music. Amelia’s favorite was Van Cliburn’s masterful 1961 record of Rachmaninoff’s “Piano Concerto nr 13: Knuckles on the Black Keys”. When she was thinking through the solution of a puzzle, the voices did not speak to her. All was silent. It was her only time of peace. It was the only time her body could rest and curl up comfortably into her own thoughts. Anything that took her away from her logic problems including music, no matter how soothing, invited the voices back into Amelia’s thoughts.

Amelia was accepted to several top colleges across the country, including MIT, Stanford, Rice and The University of What It Is, but she wanted to stay near her home town and her family, so she went to State. Hey, that’s where my brother-in-law went! Go State! [chuckles] Ahem. She was elected the youngest president of the student body ever at age 17, and graduated valedictorian two years later. Her friends, her professors, her mother all knew the world was Amelia’s. She could become poet laureate or a senator or a supreme court justice or a quantum physicist. But she became none of those. This is not to say Amelia was not successful or that she amounted to nothing. It is to say, the semantics of success were her own and no one else’s. Amelia became an air traffic controller. The voices never told Amelia to become an air traffic controller, they were never that specific. The voices did not tell her to do anything, they simply talked about first dates, about  apartment hunting, about their grandmothers’ improved health, about a bad movie they sort of loved. None of the voices talked directly to her, it was simply as though she overheard conversations from lives lived somewhere else. Other people and their quotidian hopes and worries and interests. She tried seeing therapists and psychiatrists. She tried medication to stop the voices, but nothing worked. Eventually she decided they were not harmful voices and that she was not dealing with schizophrenia. She simply heard people talking at all hours about all things, having nothing to do with her. And they never told her to become an air traffic controller. Amelia chose her own career, her own path. Others though the reason was that it was the fist job opportunity to present itself for her. Maybe it was her admiration of aircraft, maybe a moral sense of serving humanity through public safety and comfort. In fact, it was none of these reasons. But it should not be surprising to know that Amelia was very good at air traffic control. She was calm, clear, and efficient. The Night Vale international airport, although when Amelia started it was just a commuter hub, has never had a high volume of plane traffic and almost all of those are departures. There are very few arrivals. My husband Carlos, he’s a scientist and he is also very good at his job, tells me that it’s impossible to have far more departures than arrivals, but I told him, not everything has to make sense all the time.

So, in some ways, air traffic control in Night Vale was easier for Amelia than just about any other class or job or task she’d ever attempted. It appeared from the outside to be far below her capabilities. She held that job for 20 years, even taking over as president of the Night Vale chapter of air traffic controllers’ union. In 2004, she was featured in the cover of “Afformative”, a monthly trade magazine for air traffic controllers. The headline of the article was “You’re cleared for success”. In 2006, she was asked to deliver the keynote speech at the annual Roger Con, a conventional for air traffic controllers and fans of air traffic control. It’s a huge deal, held every year in Orlando. People dress like their favorite airline pilots and wait in long lines for autographs from top flight attendants. There are even panel discussions about everything from the best textiles for seat cushions to secret first class meal offerings. Amelia was the best at what she did. She probably would have been the best poet laureate or senator, but this was the path she chose. She chose this path because of the voices, not from what they said, but what they didn’t say. When Amelia was in the control tower, when she was communicating with captains and co-pilots and navigators, her head was clear. All was silent. It was like those many nights, sneaking a copy of the crossword from the newspaper on the kitchenette and solving it by flashlight under her covers. She became an air traffic controller to be by herself, to become her own person. Her mother was disappointed, but loved her in spite of it. Her professors were let down, but still had many fabulous of their greatest student. Her friends were just happy she was happy.

Things changed on June 15, 2012, when Delta flight 18713 made radio contact. In her tall tower, at her tiny airport, in the middle of a vast desert, in the middle of the American Southwest, an airplane appeared on Amelia’s radar. It was carrying 143 passengers and 6 crew members and was flying from Detroit to Albany over the great lakes of the American Northeast. It appeared briefly, the green dot blinking in and out of existence like the sun glinting off a water ripple. It was almost unnoticeable. But everyone noticed it. Later, Amelia was the only one who admitted to noticing it. The radio transmission was equally brief, a surge of static and only one word, difficult to discern but she heard it. “Alpha” was the single word. The letter A in the Nato alphabet. It was garbled, so maybe it wasn’t that word, maybe it was some more adult variation of “Oh fudge”. Alpha. Oh fudge. It was unclear. Amelia requested identification of the aircraft. She requested further communication, but nothing came. As soon as it had squawked, it had gone silent. But while the radio communication was silent, the voices were not. On June 15, 2012, upon hearing a word that sounded like “alpha”, these myriad conversations returned. No one else in the tower could hear them, but Amelia Anna Alfaro could. And for the first time in her life, she began to speak back to them. Everyone else in the tower could hear that. The voices did not cease. The voices continued for days and days and Amelia tried to talk back with them. As one voice said: “I have an interview on Monday,” Amelia would ask “for what job” or if a voice said, “We went to Palm Springs on vacation,” Amelia would say, “Did you also travel out to the Salton Sea?” But over and over, no response. The voices did not affect the quality of Amelia’s work, but it did affect the perceived quality of her work, and her colleagues became uncomfortable with and distrusting of Amelia.

A month later, Amelia heard that word again from one of the voices. “Alpha”. The same voice that radioed in June. But upon hearing it again, she realizes that they didn’t say “alpha” at all. What they said, coming up.

But first The weather.

[“Skinchanger” by Skeptic skepticdeath.bandcamp.com]

The voices said “Alfaro”. The word had been truncated just as the airplane’s appearance in Night Vale had been truncated. The voice saying the word was the captain of the aircraft, and he had been trying to tell Amelia something. The pilot was trying to tell Amelia that he knew her, had always known her since her birth. He didn’t know how he knew her, just that he did, and he wanted to tell her he had found her. And she should find him. “Where are you,” Amelia asked the captain. “No Where,” the voice said. “Did you land?” Amelia asked. “Yes,” the voice said. “Were there injuries?” Amelia asked. “Minor,” the voice said. “Do you hear the other voices too?” Amelia asked. “Yes,” the captain said. “I’m with them right now. Find us, Amelia.” “Where are you?” Amelia asked again, louder, more scared than before. “No Where,” the voice said, not like the vague concept of in no place but No Where, two words capitalized like the name of a specific place. Amelia felt a tap on her shoulder. It was another air traffic controller. “Uh, boss wants to see you, Amelia,” they said. But Amelia did not go to see the boss. She knew. She knew her time in the tower was done. She grabbed her belongings and walked to the elevator, out across the tarmac to a shuttle to a parking lot and into her car, and no one saw her again. Her friends said she always talked about going back to school to get an advanced degree. Maybe she went to Stanford. Or Rice, or The University of What It Is. Other friends said she had lost all touch with reality, talking to people who were not there, and maybe her mother checked Amelia into the Night Vale asylum.

Yvette says Amelia knew too much, that agents from a vague yet menacing government agency had been to their house and that Amelia must have been taken to a secret location. Representatives from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau in Washington, DC, came to Night Vale two months ago to investigate the disappearance of flight 18713. They are on an undercover mission inside the Night Vale asylum right now, on a tip from Sheriff Sam, to discover more clues into this mystery. Perhaps Amelia is in there too. But I don’t think so. I think she went to find the plane. I think the voices were the passengers on Delta 18713. I think she set out looking for them. Perhaps wandering the desert, the great No Where, to find the people who had been a part of her life since birth.

Amelia. Anna. Alfaro. was always the best at everything. And if anyone will find the plane, she will.

Stay tuned next for our new investment advice show “Billionaire Roulette”.

And as always, Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Love means never having to say “you’re a werewolf”.

[kiss-my-freckle]

3x8 Rewatch: The Great Red Dragon

Introduce Francis Dolarhyde. Exercising, then hitting a tattoo parlor. He had his grandmother's dentures replicated for himself, gets a tattoo of The Dragon that covers his entire back. He kneels before a photo he has displayed of William Blake’s The Great Red Dragon. "If I'm ever apprehended, my memory palace will serve as more than a mnemonic system. I will live there." Hannibal wasn't kidding. He's relying on his memory palace with everyone that visits him. Will seems to be the only one he imagines in the Norman Chapel. He listens to a child singing while they cover his arrest and confinement. Jack selling Freddie the story of Hannibal being captured. An excerpt from Chilton's book, Hannibal the Cannibal, something Jack made mention to. He copyrighted the title after he got shot in the face. Purposeful story direction. "There is no name for what this man is. He man not even be a man." Relevant later, when he and Will do The Dragon's profile for Freddie. Chilton basically saying Hannibal is an animal. 

A three year time jump. Wine and truffles. Alana informs Hannibal that's how she found him in Florence. I would consider this gloating. They talk about his insanity allowing him to escape the death penalty, but he only escaped the death penalty because she and Chilton lied about him being insane. They wanted him to feed their professional curiosity. She talks to Hannibal as if he should be thanking her for getting him off death row. He flat-out tells her he's not insane. He's drawing her exactly how she makes me feel in this scene. The almighty queen, sitting on her Verger throne. Hannibal's confinement and her newfound wealth turned her character to shit. "Ugliness is found in the faces of the crowd." One could easily compare Hannibal's confinement to Will's in season two. I laugh when he talks about faking an escape. It's a triple play. Gideon's, Will’s, Hannibal’s. A touch of foreshadowing with Hannibal's promise to kill Alana. I'll gif that later.

Francis is standing before his broken mirror, trying to deepen his voice. He hears The Dragon calling for him. Cut to him naked, covered in blood in the moonlight. Blood and chocolate. Sanguinaccio dolce for Chilton's visit with Hannibal. "But I promised myself I would never use colons in my titles. Colons lose their novelty when overused." I laugh at this line. It makes me think of the hyphen. Especially during his scene with The Dragon. "We all know it, but nobody ever says that G-dash-D won't do a G-dash-D-damned thing to answer anybody's prayers." Hannibal tells him he'll have to write another book. He’s constantly referring to Francis as a shy boy. Like Will's character at the start of the series. Hannibal already knows enough about The Dragon to know about The Dragon. He thinks he doesn't like being called the Tooth Fairy.

Chilton and Alana in what appears to be her office now. "It is our cabal, yours and mine." The two who spoke of Will as a billiard ball, working together to get Hannibal in their hospital. "Ugliness is found in the faces of the crowd." Alana admits that they both lied, then tells Chilton he wrote a book of lies. "Everything he writes is always about a problem he does not have." This is a nice line that ties into the pilot. "You and I are just alike, problem-free." Chilton is just as cocky as Alana. The stag behind his head is fantastic. "Detected a trace of competitive vanity in our man. I would be cautious. The Young Turk may inspire the Old Lithuanian to keep himself interesting." Chilton is the one comparing the two, I'd say he's the one who wants to keep Hannibal interesting. Hannibal doesn't care.

They scene hop between The Dragon and Hannibal. "Soon enough, I fear Jack Crawford will come knocking." He writes a letter to Will, warning him that Jack will be coming to take him for the case. "It's dark on the other side and madness is waiting." But his family is waiting. Hannibal’s letter reveals who he's really in competition with - Jack. He was right about the Tooth Fairy, he doesn't like being called the Tooth Fairy.  

More than halfway through the episode when we actually see Will. Necessary. Setting the stage, to show what he's stepping into before he steps into it. Like I said in my previous rewatch post, Will had plans to disconnect from everything and everyone who would remind him of Hannibal. That includes Jack and Alana. He didn't even know she had a child. More dogs, and I don't see Winston. Jack pulls up. His entire scene with Will shows just how much of an asshole he is. "You don't want to talk inside? Oh, you don't want to let me inside." This ties into his first conversation with Alana. That's why he ends up sitting at their dinner table. "He who sups with the Devil needs a long spoon." Will doesn't want any part in it. "Why should the cold stop what common sense couldn't?" Again, him and Alana are dumb as hell for allowing Will to even take part. Three years won't change anything. As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. He tells Jack not to take out family pictures. Jack does it anyway. "Hold that."  

"With a little bit of luck, we might have a little more than three weeks before he does it again." Luck scattered through this half because of the tree markings. Molly and Walter are seen walking in, so he has Jack put the photo back in his pocket. The look on his face is enough. Jack's gonna get Will to take part in this case whether he wants to or not. "Yeah, I'm lucky here. I know that." Another hit on the luck theme. Jack takes advantage of the moment, pulling out the photo for Molly once Will and Walter take the dogs out. The way he puts his arms on the table, about to manipulate the situation to his liking. He's always been about his agenda. "So, whatever he says he wants to do, you'll take him anyway, won't you?" This line ties into episode 1x5. Will never had a choice. When Jack wants him, he takes him. That's why I never understood MIriam referring to him as The Guru. He can't compare to Will because he only cares about catching them, he doesn't care about understanding them. Going against Will's wishes, shows the family photos to Molly. "I promise I'll try to make it as easy on him as I can." He made the same promise to Alana when he said he wouldn't let Will get too close. "I know what I'm asking and I wished to God I didn't have to." He has to because he sucks at profiling.

"If you stay and there's more killing, maybe it would sour this place for you." Jack said the same thing of his classroom in episode 1x5. While Molly is sleeping, he steps out of bed and reaches for Hannibal's letter. Kept it in his drawer, but didn't read it. HIs way of holding onto Hannibal, but not letting his words pull him in. He looks back at Molly to make sure she's still sleeping. I don't think she truly knows just how intimately he and Hannibal know each other. I believe this is the only letter Hannibal wrote to him, so I think Will knew that he wrote about the Tooth Fairy case. Hannibal would've allowed him this distance because the last time they spoke, Will told him he didn't want to think about him anymore. He hasn't been crossing those boundaries Will set out of respect, something Jack doesn’t have. He's crossing them now because he knows how relentless Jack is. 

WIll visits the crime scene for his typical replay. He's been out of it for a while, so when he sees the room, it overwhelms him. His body language is powerful. The end of this replay is a nice foreshadow. The way he stands in front of the strings like his own pair of wings. How they light up as he's reaching out to touch the wife in his replay. The way he says, "This is my design." It all feels different. He’s connecting with The Dragon as it ties into episode 1x4. I love the way he storms up the steps. He’s connecting, but doesn't understand it yet. They print the wife's eye and do a mold of the cheese based on Will's replay. "Jimmy, you're the light of my life." Darkness and light scattered in this storyline. "He polished it after he placed it so he could see his face in there." SIght and sound, like windows to the soul. The Dragon in Francis, The Lion in Will. Capable of righteous violence. His empathy, capable of cruelty. "He may have a history of biting in lesser assaults. May be a fighting pattern as much as sexual behavior." Jack asks Will what he's fighting. Will is already connecting. 

Will tries to call Molly, then lays down in bed. Crime scene photos swirl around him. He connects to the family dog, wants to adopt it. "I have to see Hannibal." He needs Hannibal's help to recover his mindset because he snuffed out that dark part of himself. “You have to cut that part out.” Cutting out Hannibal, Jack and Alana, teaching and his work with the FBI. What happens when he cuts out his heart, fills the empty it leaves with a new family, then goes back to visit his heart and everything that reminds him. Will is cut between. His  transformation starts now. He will shed the rest of his humanity and become the Lion. 

“Hello, Dr. Lecter."