#also that bottom region might feel a bit empty but i Do Not Care i worked Hard on that keyboard and you are going to see All Of It

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A digital illustration of a scene from episode 25 of The Magnus Protocol featuring Colin, Sam, and Alice. Colin is a thin white man with light brown hair half in a ponytail, with the other half being very short on top. He also has a scruffy beard and mustache and body hair. He is wearing glasses with yellow lenses, a yellow t-shirt, a white button-up, and blue jeans. Sam is a shorter, fat South Asian man with brown skin and short, curly dark hair and a mustache. He is wearing a cream undershirt with a dark brown cardigan, dark red trousers, and brown and gold shoes. Alice is a lanky white trans woman with freckles, shaggy brown hair, and piercings. She is wearing a pink flannel, patchwork flannel skirt, bracelets, and pink cat-eye glasses and nail polish. The entire image is tilted and lit with dark red shadows and pale blue highlights.

The image is from the POV of a computer. A desk with a keyboard mouse, and OIAR mousepad are visible in the foreground. Colin stands with a sledgehammer held over his head ready to swing, tears flying out of his eyes as he stares at the viewer with fury. Sam is attempting to tackle him, shoving himself into Colin's torso. Alice is sitting at the desk, leaning out of the way and holding a hand out as if to keep Colin back, her other arm over the desk, having knocked the computer mouse into the air. She looks like she's yelling out at him. end ID]

~~~~

hi <3 i want to draw this scene one billion times <3 so i went a lil crazy with this one <3

also closeups

[ID: Closeups of the above image. The first image is of Colin and Sam, the second is of Alice. end ID]

[no-droids]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal​

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you.  Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty.  There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky.  It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running.  Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk.  It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs.  Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day.  You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow.  So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is.  Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you.  Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day.  Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob.  He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him?  At what point does it stop?  You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance.  There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now.  You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!”  It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer.  “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile.  “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came.  “Osiruu is a few hours that way.  There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital.  I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction.  “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view.  I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted.  You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then.  Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her.  But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo.  Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people.  Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring.  But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists.  The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be.  Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life.  You never pictured yourself as the fighting type.  When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that.  Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?”  You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile.  “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there.  He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile.  Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend.  “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey!  I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?”  She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by.  “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II.  I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady?  She seems like… you, almost.  Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs.  You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet.  “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible.  You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad?  Are you just an idiot with no hope?  You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes?  You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here.  Plenty.  There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business.  Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong.  There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune.  You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors.  Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic.  The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is.  Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.  You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes.  Fucking shoes, your salvation.  You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many.  Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design.  It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear.  Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up?  And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper.  His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder?  One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to?  That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that.  You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist.  There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss.  Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then.  Through the forest, you suppose.  You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again.  You have a finger point, that’s all you need.  Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over.  It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!”  A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach.  “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it.  “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!”  The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors.  He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit.  “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle.  “Oh, no.  I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs.  “Off the bus then please, miss.  Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off.  “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions.  “I’m sorry?  Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier.  The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them.  “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste.  Everyone is polite here, it seems.  “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place.  Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self.  Eliminate the need for a back pathing.  All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers.  You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do.  You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink.  You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left.  You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one.  The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all.  No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together.  You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches.  Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell.  It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then.  Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide.  The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind.  You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds.  Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway.  How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated.  Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack.  There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick.  Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up.  Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck.  It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous.  You know it even before you start.  The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay.  Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need.  You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn.  If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty.  You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again.  This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot.  You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though.  Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be.  Water is an eroder.  Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees.  You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain.  The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it.  You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can.  It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck.  You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water.  The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall.  You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go.  With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it.  It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found.  This… this is doable.

Okay.  If you pull this off, you’re a badass.  If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation.  This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot.  Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further.  Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself.  The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet.  It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again.  “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond.  So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak.  You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below.  “Uh.  Ahem.  Hello.  Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you.  “Or something on your side is too loud.  There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about.  It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again.  You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?”  You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before.  Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something?  Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good?  It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough.  “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm.  Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to.  If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended.  You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult.  “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do?  This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well.  Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here.  You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk.  You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem.  Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um.  Can you give me a second?”  You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this.  Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?”  Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself.  Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more.  That’s a long way.  You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep.  Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths.  You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second.  The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay.  Okay, fucking success.  It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?”  You ask, slightly out of breath.  “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go?  Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with.  As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you.  You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing.  “Hello?  Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?”  Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile.  “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment.  “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again?  Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart.  It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely.  Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do.  You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today.  You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of.  The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right?  Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss.  The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance.  Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright.  Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit.  You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat.  “How’s the baby?  Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right.  You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.”  No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly.  “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times.  Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along.  He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back.  Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change?  That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father.  “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it.  The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet.  It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees.  Shit.  “Uh.  What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything.  Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it?  It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is?  Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail?  Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now.  You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make.  “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good.  Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm.  Doubt it,”  immediately comes his low response.  Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?”  Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction.  You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth.  Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask.  Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have?  Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly.  “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing.  “Psh.  Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes.  He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours.  He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?”  (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?”  (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean?  Everyone loves food.”  (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um.  What’s your favorite color, then?”  (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.”  (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.”  (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be.  Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light.  Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them.  All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier.  The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing.  If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right?  You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time.  This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road.  The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed.  You want a city.  This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines.  Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows.  As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter.  “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?”  You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you.  You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah.  So he got to the bus, then.  Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile.  Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say.  Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult.  “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full.  “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle.  Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh.  Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains.  You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest.  You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental.  It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped.  Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes.  The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead.  Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough.  You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in.  It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be.  The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own.  He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop.  He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far.  You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think.  It’s hard to see.  Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders.  That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right?  Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up?  Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it.  You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy.  “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more.  “Shit.  How d’you… mm.  Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking.  “You need rest.  I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright.  Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now.  Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are.  Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause.  “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up.  You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it.  “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you.  You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull.  So warm, so gentle.  If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest.  “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur.  Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect.  “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did.  You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset.  “You makin’ fun of me?”  You ask him with a harumph.  Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know.  Is that displeasure or not?  It’s not immediately clear.  Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now?  Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it?  “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back.  You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright.  It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it.  “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that.  You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember.  Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart.  Sixteen times sixteen.  One forty-four.  No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh.  “I won’t move until you wake up.  Go to sleep.  You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you.  That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six.  You don’t even think Din would.  You would, though.  On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up.  You should know this.  And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?”  You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless.  He doesn’t have to do this.  You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows.  How do you say this?  You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out.  “I’m… not in a bed.  I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy.  You want him to stay.  Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt.  “Sleep, sweet girl.  I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck.  Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time.  Wait.  Don’t panic.  Listen.

Breathing.  Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black.  He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep?  Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out.  You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen.  Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it.  Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much.  You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box.  It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost.  Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again.  Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator.  This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it.  He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back.  If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful.  He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this.  You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up.  But… these circumstances are their own.  You have to capitalize now, this is your chance.  You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight.  That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to.  It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him.  Now is the time to hide.  You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then.  As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy.  “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act.  “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head.  Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…”  He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it.  “How long have you been up?”

Op.  Not good.  “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it.  “How long?”

How in Maker’s name?  This is impossible.  How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him?  Can you salvage this somehow?  “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak.  “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh.  Well.  Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways.  There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up.  Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over.  Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background.  It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around.  “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though.  He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead.  “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle.  “Alright, I’m up now.  See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh.  What the fuck was that?

No.  Nope, you’re not going to get played.  That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time.  You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore.  You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing.  He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it.  That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it.  Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept.  You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big.  Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected.  It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning.  Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh.  That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time.  If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion.  You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly?  Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show?  You have to stop worrying about him.  He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving.  While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation.  You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?”  He asks at one point.  So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect.  He doesn’t need to know.  “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though.  This is relevant.  “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?”  He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile.  “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range.  I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks.  It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads.  We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding.  It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way.  Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes.  He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think.  Someone a little less expressive.  This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments.  “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke.  “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle.  You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?”  You ask.  You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn.  It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?”  He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger.  The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that!  It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts.  Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him.  Good, this is almost over.  “Um.  Yep.  That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod.  “When you get to the city, just go straight through.  It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting.  You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line.  That might actually be a good move.  Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you.  Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right?  He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to.  Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him.  He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it.  Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly.  “Oh, by the way.  I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right.  You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store.  Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside.  You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms.  Oh well, you weren’t complaining.  Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea.  You don’t need to change shoes, not yet.  Why?  Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you.  It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories.  It’s an eyesore, it sticks out.  But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters.  Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left.  I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself.  Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see.  An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now.  If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know.  Let him know exactly where you are.  Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling.  If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide.  He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night.  It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on.  It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal.  Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever.  This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you.  You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think?  No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe.  Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here.  And… and slippers, it’s like a dream.  Do people normally wear slippers in bed?  You do.  Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase.  This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways.  You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky.  Violent and periwinkle tonight.  You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair.  Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath.  Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments.  Astute, you feel happy.  Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here.  Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers.  You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth.  No face, though.  Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance.  You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed.  You… miss him.  This mattress would feel softer with him next to you.  He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it.  You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles.  Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters.  “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”  You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you.  “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding.  “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you.  You love him.  Literally every single time, he just knows.  Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often.  Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again.  “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today?  How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes?  A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal?  You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you.  “You should be here.  I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually.  Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting.  He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him.  He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around.  The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead.  You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece.  “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly.  Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie.  You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible?  He read you that deeply from one single word?  You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”  You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?”  He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?”  You don’t even know what to believe anymore.  How do you beat this?  If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out.  His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm.  “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.”  It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…”  your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh.  He’s right, that was bad, even for you.  “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits.  You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step.  “I’m nowhere near the city yet.  You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown.  “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?”  He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.”  His voice is gruff.  You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing.  “You should give yourself more credit.  I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss.  It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft.  It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through.  “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”  His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve.  “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache.  You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are.  People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself.  For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it.  You feel so… known, somehow.  Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his.  He makes you feel loved with it.  “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again.  You don’t have to say anything, he already knows.  “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip.  Oh, stars.  You hate that you do genuinely consider it.  He could be here, and very soon.  With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably.  He could take a shower.  Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one.  You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together.  You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you.  Let him come.  You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?”  You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement.  You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him.  Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone.  You like to think you’re both better that way.  Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”  Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you.  It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it?  This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting.  Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around.  The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?”  You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit.  He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts.  His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know.  “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you.  “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless.  Should you push it?  You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip.  It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach.  “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?”  You whisper to him devilishly.  Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down.  Stars, your heart is already pounding.  You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason.  He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire.  “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me.  Or you could find me before I’m finished.  Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to.  The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels.  You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?”  You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond.  Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing.  “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him.  Dead silence through the comm.  You’re starting to understand.  For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice.  He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm.  If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu.  You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece.  “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen.  “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement.  When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy.  “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now.  “Oh shit, does this holocall?  Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him.  “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear.  “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious.  He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you?  Really?

“You sure?”  You ask softly, raising an eyebrow.  “You’d get to see me, where I am.  What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop.  You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all.  Did he decline the transmission request?  No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before.  Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?”  You ask.  You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath.  “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist?  Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?”  You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows.  You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible.  “Can you see… this?”  You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?”  Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more.  “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?”  Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier.  “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.”  You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed.  “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet.  Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that.  How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?”  You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden.  Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end.  Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight.  Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit.  “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera.  Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?”  Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again.  Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors.  You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop.  “But the window is open.  And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?”  Din immediately challenges.  Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that.  You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him.  It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay.  Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently.  It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth.  “Does it matter?  I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?”  You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following.  You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator.  Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself.  Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea.  No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well.  You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place.  Is he just that aroused by you?  Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again.  Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling.  Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back.  You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible.  You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do.  It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell.  He’ll be able to see it, you think.  The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside.  It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip.  He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something?  You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless.  It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you.  You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.  You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you.  Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples.  “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious.  “You think—y-you think—”

“What?”  You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious.  Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops.  It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?”   He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet.  “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there?  You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering.  He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now.  “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh.  That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart.  He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you.  Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word.  “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly.  Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down.  “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid.  Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days.  I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss.  You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it.  You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his.  He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.  “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not?  What have you got to lose?  Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways.  What’s the worst he can do?  Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here.  “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days.  You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you.  You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.  It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

[kiwibes]

So, you cant live the "cottagecore life"?

I am here to tell you that you can!

Wether you're poor, living in the city with no garden or terras, living abroad, have a disability, are poc or still living with your birthgivers, cottagecore is also there for you.

IMO cottagecore (and the like) is about appreciating the smile things in life. Nursing a plant, watching the sun carress the surface, enjoying rain drops falling down, finding fun and love in small acts like cooking, baking, sewing, knitting, gardening, painting,etc. U dont need grand architecture, expensive technology or 'cheap thrills' if you seek small thrills in the simple things. U dont have to like ALL things (I hate crocheting but I like seeing others enjoy it), but I think nearly everyone has a little bit of cottagecore in them. (If smn disagrees with my view, that sounds like a them problem)

So, having lived in cities, suburbs and only very briefly the countryside. Having had a nice income and no income at all and spending a lot of time on how to find these small joys, I will share some tips on how to incorporate some cottagecore into your life

No garden? Not even a terras? Windowsills are your best friend. They are great place for some plants, herbs and regrowths. Some plants dont even need direct light and can stand on your table/desk/shelf

Don't have money for plants? The world is out there! Even the grayest most concrete city I've lived in had some uncontrolled shrubs or weeds growing. Weeds are just as much awesome plants and calling them weeds feels like discrimination? I prefer wildlings. Anyway, you have to be a little more carefull if you go scavenging plants because of private property and hygiene but it is a good excuse for an adventure and remember to bring gloves and take enough surrounding soil to ease the transition of your scavenged treasures. Daisies and dandelions in grassy patches are easy, pretty starters. Love them.

Now you got the plants but not the money or availability of pots? Fear not, almost everything can be a pot. Soda bottles, milk cartons, jugs, chipped mugs, food trays, cardboard packages if lined with some plastic/alu foil,...you might want to put some holes in the bottom to let the water run trough. Put a plate or tray under it. If you need the 'pot' to be raised I found that bottle caps and empty tea lights can do the trick often.

You did get your gruby hands on some store bought plants? Cool, maybe they come in a brown/black plastic pot? You can paint it and reuse. I do recommend to put the plant from that pot in a bigger recipient cuz store plants are usually put in just-big enough pots with lots of fertilizer to keep them looking fresh for sales but they cant survive them longterm. The pots can still be used for smaller plants though. Some plantshops also have a recycle bin for these pots. You can sneak some of them with you. They won't really care

For all the above plant holders, u might think 'it will look ugly, all that plastic and non-unity. If that bothers u, u can paint them, glue them with nice colours or newspaper, make a fun craft project from it. Newspaper, glue and acrylics can hold for quiet some time!

Name tags can be crafted out of popsicle sticks, branches, writing on cobbles, etc.

Regrowths. Propagate some plants, herbs, vegetable. Cheap and fun. Internet is full of tutorials on how to propagate.

Idigenous climate and plants are your best friends. Research the practices of your ancestors/the native settlers. Learn from their lessons and mistakes. You might want to check google books and archive.org for reading/loaning old books about your region.

Sos sewing kits can be your hero if you dont have a sewing shop nearby. All u really need is needle, thread and scissors and you can get started on small projects. Dont aim for a ball gown from scratch though but you can refurbish old/ugly/cheap clothes with a small travelling sos sewing kit.

No fabrics? Use old clothes, blankets, tabletops, curtains or some scarfs. I've found no place yet where I can't buy some scarfs. They are basicly long, rectangular fabrics that can be used for some sewing projects like plushies, head band, tops, pillow covers, etc.

No kitchen? No bake recipes, microwave recipes, what to make in a water kettle etc. Many before you have suffered the lack of a kitchen, including yours truly!

Wall decoration. Print old photos, press leaves or flowers or herbs, calligraph, paint, draw, etc.

No money to buy fancy frames? Not allowed to drill in the wall? Tape and sticky hooks can hold some light weight deco. Tape some paper clips to the wall to hold photos, maps, botanical drawings,...

Laminators are too expensive for my liking. For smaller things you can use tape. Stick it on, fold the tape double, cut. You just laminate a flower. Cut it out, make a frame from leftover paper or cardboard or not, hang it. For the larger things you can us stronger plastic from folder splitters, packing, those slide in things u have to put your front page/homework into. Squash it in between 2 layers and tape/glue/staple/paperclip it together.

No signing voice? Just talk to your plants! The CO2 will do them good.

You dont have to spent money on a plant water diffuser thing. Any mechanical spray thing will work like parfume bottles, sunscreen spray bottles, etc. Make sure they are clean inside before using.

Dont feel bad about plastic flowers

Dont feel bad, ashamed or like you have a short coming for not achieving the ultimate cottagecore aestethic cuz 1. It is an aestethic no one has it. It is meant for inspiration, relaxation and feel good vibes 2. Everybody has as much right to relate to any -core as any other next person. 3. If you enjoy it, it has fulfilled its purpose. Enjoy!

If I think of sth else I will add it. If anyone else has an idea please reblog it with an addition.

Dont hesitate to ask any questions!

[lideria]

Lost in Yesterday. | Jeno | Backstory.

➥ pairing(s): jeno x gender-neutral!reader, kind of haechan x gender-neutral!reader

➥ genre: lots of angst, also fluff, somewhat suggestive, royal!au, rivalkingdoms!au, loverstoenemies!au

➥ warnings: swear words, mentions of suggestive themes, themes and mentions of war, themes of heartbreak, themes and mentions of family distress/unhealthy relationship, themes of manipulation, themes of psychological abuse, themes of confusion, drinking, mentions of injuries, mentions of gun use, mentions of disassociation. english is my second language so there might be errors.

➥ word count: 25.6k

➥ summary: the firsts and lasts of a forbidden relationship between two heirs.

➥ songs that have inspired this piece/i recommend readers to listen: lost in yesterday - tame impala, low - lenny kravitz, strangers in the night - frank sinatra, six days - dj shadow, next to me - imagine dragons, don’t you cry for me - cobi, to be alone - hozier, c’mon - panic! at the disco ft. fun, morph - twenty one pilots, moon river - frank ocean, sinking man - of monsters and men

➥ author’s note: THIS IS A REPOST, because tumblr’s algorithm did me dirty and took this off the tags. i dearly hope this does not flop heheh please like/reblog if you enjoy this! because i just about lost my mind while writing! also, a big thank you to my beta readers @shimmershimmernct and @neocity-sarai, you guys are awesome!

➥ sequels: reader’s pov // jeno’s pov

i hope everyone enjoys this, have a great morning/day/evening/night!

The Last Ball

The orchestra remains playing songs in the background even after all the past hours they have done so. Hallways are empty and partially dark if it was not for the moonlight. Most of the staff is occupied with serving the hundreds of guests in the middle wing of the palace— working in the kitchen, in the ballroom and outside stood the guards. The left wing of the palace, the one that is supposedly closed to the guests for the night, is only alive because of the two people running through its moonlit halls.

Jeno is holding your hand as he leads the way, excited giggles making their way out without much effort to stop them. The both of you run up the last set of grand stairs and Jeno runs to the end of the wide corridor. He pushes the doors of the library open rather harshly, making you both stumble your way in. His hands wrap around your waist as he pushes you to the nearest set of shelves. It does not take much time for your lips to meet.

The prince, dressed in a pure, blinding white suit with his jet black hair takes your breath away in the best way possible. He pecks you on the lips so many times it makes you dizzy, steadying you with his hands placed delicately on either sides of your jaw as lingers out some of the pecks into longer lasting, tender kisses.

As always it feels rushed and desperate. Yet so, so precious.

It does not feel like you had enough of him when he places his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes while his thumbs caress your jaw. You can hardly see him in the dark, save for his eyes that are sparkling with the weak and pretty rays of moonlight hitting them. He audibly gulps.

“One more,” Jeno whispers before kissing you again. You feel so lost in him that you have to steady yourself to know you still have the strength to stay on your feet. Your hands that had been resting against his chest come up to pull him closer to you, now stationed at his nape. His teeth ever so slightly graze down on your bottom lip, eliciting a breathy hum from both of you at the tension that seems to radiate from where your lips meet— and it clicks in him. That this is not the time or the place.

When he pulls away he takes a couple steps back, and then he smiles. Moonlight barely hits him but your eyes are, at this point, somewhat adjusted to the dark from running through dark halls and semi making out in the dark library. Both of you know why he stops and pulls away too soon before it can go any further. He cannot even kiss you for as long or as hard as him and you would like to, because people would notice from your appearances and the duration of your absence. And gossip was a deadly thing within the royal class.

It was okay. As long as you could escape with him for some time, it would be okay. You two were too used to it at this point.

“You look blinding tonight, your Majesty,” He teases, his eyes curved into the crescents they are. The nickname hitches your heart instantly, triggering all the dreams you know could not come to be. All you can do is press them down in your heart until they become so compact that you feel back in control. Him being there right beside you does not help with the situation in your heart, but the least you can do is to touch him in some way because you missed him.

Hell, you missed him even when he was right there, stood before your eyes.

So you opt to run a careful hand through his soft and silky hair, tidying the mess it had come while running. Realization hits you suddenly then, and your heart picks up again though of causes less pleasurable. “Is Jaemin out? We left so quickly.”

Jeno leaving without his guard would surely create chaos. With the tension the regional monarchies and the state kingdoms were in, and the unspoken arguments and arrogance hanging in the air, any heir even daring to breathe without their personal guards would mean letting them out into the wild with all the dangers and possibilities awaiting. Alone.

And that is a risk none of the kingdoms are willing to take.

The Prince’s eyes flutter a bit, but he sounds somewhat confident. “I was making hand gestures all the time, there’s no way he didn’t pick them up.”

As if on cue, there are loud knocks at the door when you nod. Both of your heads snap at the source of the noise— the doors are then opened even harsher than how Jeno had done some moments ago, and two figures rush in, clearly out of breath.

For a second you dare to think that you have another forbidden couple in the library, but the voice that speaks debunks your theory. “They’re here,” Jaemin breathes out in what could best be called relief. He kneels to his knees and takes a few moments to gulp and recollect himself. His silence is instantly filled, however, with another voice you know all too well.

“Excuse me for dropping the honorifics but for the sake of my poor mother stop doing this to us,” Donghyuck, your guard, complains. Jaemin lets out a laugh and nods appreciatively at his words. The guard carries on with his complaint but not without sucking in a big breath first. “At least inform us of where you’re going so we don’t have to lie through our teeth to the kings and queens while also worrying about your safety. A generation earlier and we would be beheaded if they found out what we’re doing.” Donghyuck kneels to grab at his legs as well, looking at the ground. Jaemin pats his back once in support. “The things I do for this relationship. Really, I would’ve gotten married already if I paid this much attention to my own relationships. I don’t know about Jaemin.”

The guard beside him chuckles. “You and me both at that one.”

Both Jeno and you laugh at their words, too stunned to move from your place. You both give your guards a good few seconds to catch their breaths but Jeno moves towards his guard and best friend before you can even move, waiting for him to groom his outfit and straighten up first. “Did anybody see you?”

The cautious words leaving Jeno catches Jaemin off guard, but he still answers the question rather quickly. “We kept some distance between us until we were out of the middle wing. No one was around after that as far as I could tell.” Upon his words he pats Jaemin on the shoulder as if to say good job, and he mumbles his thanks to both of the guards in gratitude— even though the two of you did not necessarily need them to find you, as in them walking in on you.

Jeno turns to you when Jaemin is done, a warm smile on his face again, probably sharing the same feelings but also knowing the consequences of not being down at the hall for longer than expected. “I will see you in the ballroom, my love.” Affection beams from his words and it makes you incredibly happy, even though you have heard the nickname countless times before.

“Hurry up already, I can hear your father scolding you.” He chuckles a breath and nods at Donghyuck, giving him his recognition and respect, before making his way out of the door with Jaemin trailing next to him.

You sigh when the door closes behind him and his company, knowing this would be the only time you could get to yourselves with him tonight. Just like that, the prince was gone.

Relationships between royals were heavily looked down upon unless they were arranged marriages, because they could bring unexpected feuds, wars, or peace. No royals wanted their love life to affect their politics unless they could impose full control over them. Considering the state the nations are in— with all kinds of political feuds and tight anger in between that waited patiently until it was the time to blow up— your relationship between two heirs of monarchies that have never necessarily gotten along feels all the more forbidden. Even after three years of being steady and having things under control.

Loving him would not be this difficult if it was your ideal world.

“Your Highness,” Donghyuck starts, looking at you with some level of concern. “You should be looking happy. Not like this.”

There is something weird about the way Donghyuck speaks to you. Most probably because of the fact that you have known each other since childhood, there is still a sense of warm and homely friendliness and informality in his words, despite the title he has to call you by. The two of you had met at eight years of age, when his mother who works in the kitchen brought him into the palace that time when his father was sick and she could not take the risk of leaving him alone with an ill man. He had been the first child that you actually made friends with outside the heir community— if it was even one.

Fourteen years of friendship. One of which was spent apart as he was sent away to train to become your guard by your father’s order, and three of which was spent with him as your guard. Mostly with laughs, sometimes with tears, lots of kept secrets, shared feelings and struggles, and helping each other with anything and everything. Donghyuck was your one loyal friend, and perhaps, the only friend you truly had.

Honestly, you could not have asked for a better primary guard. “I am happy,” The words prompt an automatic smile on your lips, albeit one of longing. “I just would’ve loved to dance with him again.”

The First Dance

The first time you had danced together was three years ago, it had also been the day  where  you had completely fallen for him. Years of silently crushing had been leading up to it— momentary glances at the dinner table when his family or yours were doing their yearly rounds of visits followed by shy smiles, playing in the snow when they visited your kingdom of mountains, exploring the beautiful forests of his kingdom of what felt like a sea of green, helping each other with duties that required a second thought, late night talks in the gardens and balconies, watching the night sky with the astronomy-lover prince. Sometimes he would tell you all about it, sometimes the both of you would lounge around and sketch architectural pieces and compete on insults and comebacks, sometimes you would ride horses together— basically, you would share what you loved doing with one another.

For years it felt like a snowball rolling down the edge of a mountain, starting off small but swiftly tumbling and getting bigger and bigger as it made its way down. Surely it would end in an avalanche where the neatly formed snowball would disintegrate into a new spread of snow that would cover every inch of the surface.

The first dance was the scream that caused the avalanche.

Jeno had come to your side in the ballroom full of royal members and the elite class, roaming through an ocean of people just to find you. He had sensed the stress around the hall— the unhappiness that swarmed within the people spread around, and he thought— you were young. In fact, most people in that very room were young except for the rulers. It should feel energetic and fresh for everyone to take a short break from duties and responsibilities. It was a ball, after all. Not a conference. Nor a summit. Nothing political, so why was everyone making it feel like it was? Why would he not ask someone he liked to a dance?

Because that person was you, and your parents’ views did not go hand in hand? Because it was basic and proper political etiquette for him to not ask you to a dance?

Well, that would have just been plain stupid and a shame in his opinion.

“Hey,” He had leant over to your ear while you were looking at some group of people who were dancing away, prompting a little jerk of your shoulders in surprise. It makes him chuckle. “Hello, and excuse you, I don’t think I heard the ‘your Highness’ part,” You had said in return. “I could start some drama with the way you are disrespecting me right now.” He saw your eyes point at a particular group of teenagers your age, ones that were heirs of ‘lesser’ kingdoms— whatever that meant. Just because they did not have much land to rule over. The heirs, though, were known to be quite the chitter-chatters. They were the ones to have a word with if you ever needed some catching up with the society.

Your eyebrows had lifted a bit then in an effort to point them out further, and your finger had slightly pointed at them as stealthily as you could muster. “All it would take is a few words with them and I swear within the next hour everyone would know how you don’t even have the manners to address people correctly.”

That made Jeno start laughing silly, but you protested further. “You should have been at the last Unity Ball. They made sure everyone knew Doyoung and, you know, his now-wife-and-the-queen were a deal. I don’t even know where they spotted them doing what because I sure didn’t see them.”

You chuckled after your words as well, and Jeno could not take his eyes off of you. He smiled fondly, relaxing his linked hands placed at his back. “I was thinking…” He held out a hand, palm looking upwards at the ceiling, relaxed enough that his fingers were not fully straight. “Maybe we could give them something to talk about.”

With a smile, you rolled your eyes. “Jeno, this will give everybody something to talk about.”

Jeno shrugged carelessly with pursed lips. “I know and frankly I do not care. I just want to dance with you.”

It made your heart skip a beat— a couple, actually. He felt the same way in his chest.

And he knew his father would be watching over him somewhere, muttering to his mother about what was he doing and why would he even do that and this is going to raise so many questions but he had meant it. He simply did not care. Jeno also did not care about what your father must think of him. If it was as he expected it to be, it was somewhere between neutral and he is tolerable. Not he is as bad as his father. Plus, if the two of you got into trouble, just how hard could it be when the two of you were the only heirs for your parents’ thrones and had your own duties every living day?

Yes. It would not be much trouble at all.

Perhaps you also had a similar thought process, because you willingly put your hand in his. The two of you walked to the floor and felt gazes shift towards your direction along the way. And then, you placed your hand on him and let him place his hand at the small of your back, linking your other half of hands together.

And you started dancing. In the same way you would have danced with anyone that was not him. As more gazes landed upon the two of you and people watched you dance instead of only seeing you, understanding and observing first hand that being rivals is not applicable to situations like these and that your parents’ disagreement do not have to be yours, you swayed and you smiled and you looked into Jeno’s eyes.

But something was different.

You got lost in his eyes. You felt your breath escape free from your chest at the feeling of his hands holding you, and your heart started beating at a much faster, hypnotic rhythm— like that of a horse’s trots when it is set free to run around. And honestly, you got lost in the feeling. The feeling of being able to say so much when none of you are speaking. It was comfortable. It was strengthening. It was freeing. Fresh, warm, calm yet exciting.

Maybe he had felt the same, because you could feel his hold getting tighter and his gaze fonder by the second as you danced.

Jeno and you colored your way through that year’s annual visit, the usual black-and-whiteness of it nowhere to be seen.

The Last Official Visit

“Mere years ago I thought it couldn’t get any worse,” You mumble quietly as Jeno and you walk your way to the dining hall. You are making sure you keep your voice down so as to prevent the staff— especially the educational staff— from hearing your complaints. Both of your hands are at your sides lightly brushing against each other’s. That is the most affectionate thing you could do when everyone is around, really. “Having too many lessons on too many subjects in one day and somehow trying to keep all of them in my mind so I can have a shot at being a decent ruler,” Jeno hums in agreement and nods a little, waiting for the actual complaint to come. “But now that I’m actually getting closer to the being a monarch, everything’s just.. I think my head will crack open if I need to memorize anything more about law. Do you ever feel the same?”

From the corner of your eye, you can feel a staff looking at you with judging eyes, so you feel inclined to add the honorific. “Your Highness?”

Jeno chuckles as you turn around the corner and nods enthusiastically, when both of you notice one of the head guards and all three of you bow a bit in greetings as you pass by each other. “I can relate to that. For me having to deal with and participating in the military is draining as I get older. A lot of the time I just want to be able to learn things I want to learn. Astronomy, music theory, science…”

“Nothing to do with politics, I know.” The two of you snicker at his words and yours. You really knew. Jeno, if there were any other heir, would give up his place on the throne immediately— because he hated politics. Not the study or the theme itself as he knew its importance because of his first-hand experience, but he rather hated the reality of being a politician. Every word he says, every action he does, and every step he takes is closely monitored and very likely to cause major changes. And he hates that. Jeno is the type of person that is more reserved, dependent on his privacy, someone who wants to engage in his own interests as he thinks it is the major way to preserve inner peace throughout his life. He wants to live an enjoyable life, understandably.

“How are things going with your father?” You ask him upon the topic with a hopeful tone, knowing it is a bitter one, and thinking that maybe asking about it while you are moving and loaded with sensory surroundings could give him the benefit of swiftly giving the answer without much occupation in his mind. “Not great. I cannot seem to make him happy, ever.”

The answer hurts your heart because it is true. Jeno’s father is never happy with him, as he is a man washed over with his own ideals and denies any alternatives. In his views, it is almost like Jeno has to be exactly like him to be a good king. Ever since you met Jeno around twelve years ago now, his father has bothered you and not only because he is the King of a rival monarchy.

The worst part is that his mother never raised her voice about it. Even though she is much more affectionate towards Jeno and  seems to approach him with love unlike the King.

“He was really upset with my performance in the military last time. Said I had to work harder if I wanted to be a lieutenant.” He adds with a barely audible huff, the two of you slowing down as you spot the doors to the dining hall. You frown, and it is audible when you speak. “We have to endure it just a bit more. It will all work out in the end— we always make things work, right?”

With that Jeno smiles assuringly. You feel his finger caress the back of your hand a couple of times as his eyes point downwards with the force of his smile. “Yes, my love. We do.”

Just out of the doorkeepers’ reach, you whisper to him. To reassure him, and to give him strength, and perhaps to apologize to him about nagging him on a topic he does not like to mention. “I love you.”

He whispers back. “I love you too.”

The two of you share a fond smile that lasts a couple of seconds before taking the last few steps to the entrance and the doorkeepers open the doors for you.

Both of your parents are seated at the table, with yours at the opposite ends of the table and his on the left side. Your parents look delighted to see you both, and his mother does look content too, but his father not as much. It is less than surprising to you at this point, but you still want to be naive enough to believe his face looks so down because of the political tension  he had with your parents and not because he genuinely disliked his son and you.

Bowing your heads slightly in greetings at the Kings and the Queens, both of you start making your way to your seats.

“Father,” Jeno greets him with a smile of his face that is rather mocking, as he walks over to them to sit at the assigned chair between his parents.

“Son,” His father greets back, watching Jeno’s movements. The King sounds stern and less than moderately content which makes you furrow your brows as a staff pulls the chair for you to sit down on the right side of the table. You realize how your chair is the only one on the right side even though the table is big enough to host grand meals and it makes you wish that the seating plan could be in a way that could have both Jeno and you sitting at the same side. Because you do not want his father to converse with him and be in close proximity to him, where he can bother him all he pleases.

Contrary to all your thoughts, though, Jeno looks okay. He places his hand on his father’s shoulder as he sits down, and turns to his mother to take her hand in his before placing a kiss at the back of it. Jeno whispers something to her that makes her smile bright, her eyes sparkling at her son, and then she brushes some of his hair that has fallen behind his ears. You can hear her asking Jeno about how his studies have gone, along with the duties he had to take care of that day that were just some document work.

Jeno tells her it has gone well, that he has taken care of everything and even has gotten a head-start on his work for the next day. She praises him in return and cups his cheek, turning back around to the table thereafter.

When the attention is at the table and the first course is served, your father takes his glass of fine champagne and lifts it up slightly with a smile on his face that you know is only professional. Him and your mother dislike Jeno’s father just as much as you do if not more for his political stances. “I’m happy we can all gather here annually and share food, thoughts and words with each other in peace even though we are not necessarily on the same side of ideas, and I’m raising a toast for everything to stay this way— in peace— for the eternity to come.”

Me too, you think. Both Jeno’s parents and your mother raise their glasses to meet your father’s with two genuine smiles and one quarter-meant. You raise your glasses as well with Jeno and say your cheers after they do so.

Jeno winks at you before taking a sip when he lifts his glass up to his lips, and you know that it is the two of you that wants your father’s wishes to come true probably the most as you smile.

The First (and Only) Time You Got Caught

It had happened on one of your yearly rounds barely a full year after the annual Unity Ball, in which he had finally collected the courage to tell you about his feelings and asked if you felt the same as you two danced with a beautiful smile on his face— presumably because it was the only time the two of you could truly be alone without your primary guards on your tails.

“Can I tell you something, in all my seriousness, your Highness?” He had asked with his hidden smile on his face, the one where the corners of his mouth were not pointed upwards but there was still a very noticeable amusement on his face. Teasing a bit, if you will. “I have a feeling that you will even if I tell you you can’t.”

Jeno had tilted his head at your words. “You are right, but only because of the heaviness of my words. I really would not tell you otherwise.”

He took a breath, and when he spoke again, it was with a much lower tone. A tone where people dancing near you would not have been able to hear it but only you would, as his voice got drowned out by the sounds of the piano and the violins and the cellos and every other instrument. “I think a lot whenever I see you and spend time with you,” Then, ever so slightly he leaned in a bit closer. “And what I think is always good and relieving. You make me feel like I can drop my mask off with you: the mask I keep on my face at all times. It is incredibly easy for me to be myself around you because of the way you are, and I appreciate you for that. But for a long time now I’ve been feeling like this appreciation and awe I have for you,”

Your brows furrowed a bit at his words as confusion took over you, and he let out an airy laugh at that before picking his words back up. “Has evolved into something much more. Something much bigger and stronger. Something that tells me it is you, and I am okay with that. I can and I do accept that, and I just wanted to tell you because it is so hard not to anymore.” Another breath. This time he leans back again to regain his composure. “But you should know that I will understand if you do not feel the same way about me, or do not want to have what I would like for us to have.”

The two of you continued to dance, making sure your waltz steps were matching both to each other’s and to the music playing in the background. Shocked would have been an understatement for what you felt— not because it was a surprise that he felt that way about you as you were sure the mutual attraction was real before, but because he actually told you. Moreover, because he wanted something with you in the same way you did with him. It was only when you could wrap your head around it that you let out a bright smile with a squeeze on his shoulder. “This is so hysteric.”

Jeno had shook his head in a questioning manner upon your words, but had immediately relaxed upon the ones that followed soon after. “I do. I do want to have that very same thing, because it is you for me, too.”

Needless to say it had been a tad bit difficult after that.

As it was with all new lovers, keeping your hands or eyes off from each other was quite frustrating and a demanding task. You could really only love each other physically when you were completely alone; could hug when you were alone, could kiss when you were alone, could hold hands when you were alone— being alone was a treasure. And for the communication bit.. well. Communication outside of blatantly seeing each other and talking was a non-existent concept.

But you made it work. Even at its first stages, your love had proved to be stronger than the obstacles. The two of you would find a way, eventually.

Perhaps, the one time you were not alone while you displayed your affection was the door opening to communication outside of seeing each other and between the distanced kingdoms.

The two of you were on your way to the greenhouse outside in their garden to have tea with your families, the sun shining through the big windows— not a sight you could always have in your palace as the country was usually covered in snow whether it be a light cover or a heavier one. You loved how green their palace was. It felt like an explosion of colors after staying months on end in your palace until you started your yearly rounds, visiting every single kingdom over the course of several weeks.

Maybe it was what made you more lively, too. More loving, because you do not think there could be any explanation as to why the Prince’s speech on the whole history of the foreseeable future in space sounded so charming to you. “Kiss me.”

Jeno stopped dead in his tracks at the sudden demand. You did too, and could not help but snicker at his widened eyes. “Pardon me? We’re literally in the middle of the hall, dove.” Which was true, but the hall was empty. Completely empty, as the transition halls were some of the most unoccupied during the daytime. Had it been nighttime, it would have been a completely different story. “Where’s the beautiful and bold boy that did not care when he was asking me to a dance in front of everyone in the royal and elite class?”

He chuckled at that, amused and somewhat bothered, but lighthearted. “We’re too out in the open. It would be a disaster if anyone wanted to change wings and walked in on us.” At that you let out a frustrated sigh, laughing a little at him with a slight roll of your eyes. “Just kiss me, Jeno. There is no one around.”

Maybe it is the fact that you asked him for the second time, or that he felt the sudden bravery rush over him, but he did kiss you then. With an amused smile spread over his lips he had leant over with his hands still placed on his back— presumably because it would have made pulling back easier had it come to that. It was a sweet kiss despite the frustration the two of you had in store just seconds before he did so, his lips soft yet firmly on yours as he started kissing your demand and his worries away in a careless moment.

It felt good to be careless for once. To melt into the environment, to feel one and to feel whole by taking only one risk.

Until the sound of laughter echoed through the hall, that is, and the faint footsteps grew louder in sound as the people they belonged to got closer. The footsteps were approaching rather quickly, and Jeno tried to pull away from you muttering something along the lines of see, someone has to come here just to ruin everything but you did not let him. Instead, you pulled him in closer with hands placed on the other’s jaws.

Honestly, you two really could not care. Especially after the laughs got recognizable to you long before they did to him.

And as one would have expected the steps came to a halt once they entered the hall, however as one would not have expected while you were just pulling away from each other.

If you had to stay positive about it, it was an immense embarrassment for both of you. Them possibly seeing you in that state was not something the two of you would have wanted nor planned; the plan was to pull away just before they came in, and you had failed miserably.

It would be fine, though. They were your primary guards. One of whom looked shocked beyond belief, and the other looked a bit uncomfortable. Nonetheless, they were your primary guards and your own closest friends. If anybody could be trusted, it would be them.

“Oh my god. Oh, my god.” Donghyuck rambled, mostly in disbelief and possibly a bit nervously as they kept on walking over to where you and the Prince were standing. “I can’t believe I just witnessed that, you were kissing, weren’t you?” The last part of the question had come out in the lowest whisper he could muster, and Jeno only nodded. It was not his proudest moment for sure if you took the slight blush on his cheek to account.

Mentioning what had been going on between you to them had been out of the question for so long in a dire attempt to protect yourselves from any and all eyes— even theirs, that are supposed to watch over you. Maybe if it was not for this moment you never would have told them as the nature you two held had been too cautious to do anything up until now.

The guards seemed to get even more distressed at that, especially your friend of eleven years. He turned to Jaemin with his hand in his hair, eyes closed, and his face genuinely upset. “It’s too early for this. I’m on my first year of primary duty and this is what you do to me?”

At his words, the Prince beside you cleared his throat, and everyone turned their gazes towards him. “I know this must have come as a shock to you, but we are still two heirs you are talking about.”

Donghyuck tilted his head then, and pushed his tongue against his cheek at the comment, chuckling a little as he placed his hands on his hips. “Well, your Highness, one of them happens to be my best friend of years— and for the record, I think we have well given up on the professional distance protocol at this point.”

That made Jaemin bust out an actual laugh, prompting Jeno to glare at him and the guard to simply shrug before apologizing. “Donghyuck,” You snapped at him with a warning tone. “Keep your composure.” The only voices inside the hall or at the close distance around the hall still happened to be the four of yours, which was rather fortunate considering the last few moments.

“Just let us forget about this, your Highness,” Jaemin suggested to you with a calm manner. “Both of us have vowed to be loyal to you two. Not a single word would leave from our mouths regarding this.”

And that happened to be the best thing Jaemin had ever said to you. For him, and the stressed guard beside him, it was probably the most unfortunate thing that ever did leave his mouth. A smile spread on your face as the idea hit, and Jeno must have thought the same because you saw him jerk a little in his place in a moment of eureka. The guards knew something (or anything, for that matter) would not be going their way as the same kind of knowing smile spread across your faces simultaneously.

“Vowed to be loyal, you say?” Both guards nodded when you asked, and Jeno followed suit with his own question. “And what if we asked you to help us with finding places for us two to meet at?”

The Last Promise

It is a pretty night.

The nights at your palace are always breezy and cold at the right amount: bearable with the right attires, and the type that is a dry cold where the humid cold that might stick on you is never a problem that passes through your mind. Moonlight is bright in the open sky. The stars are visible and scattered across the night like wild flowers scattered across a field. The snow is a thick blanket on top of the ground and under your feet as you sit at the entrance of the abandoned and long-out-of-use tunnel.

Jeno looks pretty, too. Despite traveling for a long time and having to cover everything up at such a time where having this relationship is even harder than it has ever been, he is glowing with pleasure. His eyes constantly seem to smile, and his skin glistens under the shifting rays of the moonlight as he speaks to you. You both were catching up on the last few weeks where you have not been able to see each other and only could deal letters to one another through selected staff that were being paid in exchange of keeping your long-going secret. A lot of it was through affection.

Jaemin and Donghyuck are guarding far in front of you— Donghyuck farther than Jaemin, keeping an eye out for the rest of the palace that was surely asleep and in the distance as the other watched out with binoculars for royal photographers. They seemed to be everywhere after noticing the drama and feud-filled relationships of the recent royal class, and they were insatiable.

“I feel so on the edge whenever I have to talk to anyone lately,” You confess to Jeno as he looks deep into your eyes. “Even on phone calls, and even though I am not my father but just a representative, everyone treats me like I am some manure sticking to their shoes.”

The Prince laughs at that, holding your hand in his and lacing your fingers without taking his eyes off of yours. “You could not be farther off than manure, my love. These are trying times for everybody is all.”

“Which is exactly why I think they should be more compassionate,” You add with a huff of frustration, a pout on your lips. Jeno lets out a breathy chuckle as he leans over and places a chaste kiss on them, before turning back to his seat. “Are you cold?”

“Not really, why?” You ask. “The tip of your nose felt really cold.” With that, he looks down at your linked hands and shrugs a little. “You could go inside. I don’t want you to be cold because of me. I got to see you, and that is what matters.”

“I am not cold. I want to stay here longer.” He smiles at the attempt to reassure him, starting to play with the tips of your fingers. Squeezing them, touching them with his own, fiddling them mindlessly. “Good.” There is a slight relief at the way his word sounds, but it is nowhere to be found with the words that follow. “Listen,”

You know what that tone means, and it means that he is being dead serious. “I don’t know if you have noticed anything about it, but there is a big likelihood that a war is coming. Some areas are already in conflict,” You had known about it a little, as the military paperwork seemed to mount up on your table about the raise of the aids and what-not— but you had not seen or heard any plans of an attack. Jeno gulps as he picks his head up to look into your eyes again. “My father just assigned me to the troops located nearest to the conflict zones as a lieutenant today and I have to be there in the morning,” A breath before he concludes his words. “I will have to fight at the warfront when it breaks out.”

His words struck you harder than you would expect it. Jeno does not say if the war breaks out, no, he says when the war breaks out. And you know he is more invested in the military than you ever will be, so his words hold an impeccable reality to them. It gets you feeling terrified because a war is a war and there is no sense of security in it, and he will have to be in the midst of that chaos fighting; and it gets you feeling angry, because how could his father do this to him? “Aren’t you his only child?” Your breath hitches as you ask, and you feel the warmness at your eyes. “Why is he sending you?”

“Because I have been training my entire life and he said he trusts me now.” Somehow, you think, and a good part of you believes that his father is only doing this because he is too much of an arrogant himself to go fight. That his father is doing this only because he wants to keep his place on the throne as long as he can. Because he is the type of person who makes you really believe that he could have been the best alchemist considering he is so selfishly determined to stay on the throne that he would have probably found elixir of life.

And you see the ugly reality that his father does not care if something happens to Jeno during the war. It breaks you that Jeno sounds so hopeful when he says his father trusts him.

So in a moment of selfishness, you ask him. “Jeno, what if you die?”

He seems to get alarmed at the point where your voice gets shaky, and he tightens his hand around yours, leaning in and placing his other hand on your cheek as he stares deep into you, trying to reach your heart. “I won’t.” He shakes his head to further emphasize. “I won’t die. I have so much to do— we have so much to do still. I will come back,” Jeno’s thumb on your cheek rubs the surface firmly, his palm growing warm now. “I promise, my love. We must hold on for a little while longer.”

A part of you thinks why can you not see it? Do you really not see how your father is using you at a matter like this? How he is using you as a pawn and as a puppet, a mere imitation to his presence at the warfront?

But the other part of you says that what is done is done. That there is no way to hold him back from going after being assigned. And that very same part also notices how confident Jeno is being about this, and yearns to believe that his father had told him truthfully that he trusts him now.

So you give him the benefit of the doubt, for now.

You nod at the Prince with a tight smile. The tears had not even arrived at your eyes because you wanted to keep him from getting upset because of your reaction, especially when he would be the one rushing to his destination to arrive by the morning and would involve himself in something way beyond training. With a turn of your head, you kiss his palm and nuzzle further into it, and he lifts your hand in his to kiss it. He does not pull your hand away from his lips and lets you recollect yourself with your eyes closed for a few moments.

“Love,” He whispers after some while. You open your eyes to meet with his fond ones that are looking at you, adoring you. “I need to ask you something before I go.”

You nod once again as he pulls his hand away from your cheek, and you start following the movement of his hand. It goes to his chest pocket on his jacket and digs something up into his palm before holding it in between the two of you.

Then he opens his palm with a smile on his face.

You notice the bunched up chain before you notice the sparkles that reflect the moonlight. And when your eyes fall onto them, there is a ring. A ring. With many small crystals all over it instead of a single or a few big ones. It looks delicate and easy to hide, with a simple knot to its shape and nothing else.

It means the world to you.

“This is not much of a surprise considering the amount of times we have spoken about the future, but,” He squeezes your hand. “Every time I look at you, I do not even dream about it anymore. I see it. And I want it. Because my heart says that it will always be you. Every day, every time. No matter what. Because I love you that much, and I want to go away this time knowing that when I come back to you, you will be my future and I will be yours.”

A bright smile that is a contrast to the dead of the night, yet one that matches his spreads across your face and he knows the answer then. But he asks the question anyway. “Would you do the honor of taking my hand in yours for the rest of eternity?”

The tears rush to your eyes and break free in a matter of maybe a couple of seconds if not within the same second and you nod. A tsunami-worth wave of emotions hit you; sadness at still not being over the fact of the war that was surely coming, happiness at the reality that you will get to keep your love for the rest of your life, nervousness at the uncertainty of it all, him going away and his father, but mostly— finally. Finally, finally.

Not finally, he asked me to marry him but finally, we are moving to the last stage of everything. We have fought for so long, and we have endured so much, and we now finally get to move onto the time where we get to be us without the obstacles. Everything is finally truly paying off.

With a smile on his face and his own unspilled tears in his eyes, he reaches over and puts the necklace on you and tucks it in to your night attire, patting the place the ring extends to. And he lets you kiss him afterwards.

He pulls away, though, before any of you can open your mouths and before the kiss can turn into anything less gentle. “I found a place. The registrar agreed to wed us in impartiality, and told me we could have a small and serene ceremony.” You listen to him with a newfound spark in your eyes that make Jeno fall for you all over again, your hands on his jaws. “You will love it there. It is deep in the forest and the road is really worn, but it only secures us further. No photographer would be able to follow us. There is a lake and lots of different trees varying from the rest of the forest at the ceremony area, and the place is so pretty at night with dim lights everywhere. It is really quiet, and the staff are very kind.”

Your lips land on his again with a quick and messy smooch, and he can feel you giggle into him. When you pull back you bite down at your lip in a smile washed over with excitement. “That sounds like a dream, Jeno.”

“I’m afraid it will all come true, your Majesty.”

Jeno laughs against your lips when you crash them onto his again, and lets you climb into his lap when you make the move.

The First Escapade

Your heart, for the lack of a better word, was racing.

Donghyuck was leading you somewhere. Neither of you were talking much, even the steps you were taking had to be calculated and soft so as not to alert any other guards that were on watch that night. Moving through the halls was a scary, almost foreign feeling— you would usually breeze through them. But not this once.

He had woken you up with a knock at your door, telling the doorkeeper that there was a minor problem with your belongings being sorted for the upcoming tour through the country that had to be sorted immediately according to your liking, and had taken you through the halls and down the many stairs. Most of which you had not once used in your life, and were widely used by the staff only.

He was good at distracting people, you had come to learn. The amount of people he had lied to and distracted by saying there was a problem with power shortage (which there was, and it was him that caused the shortage in the first place) and it had to be repaired but there were parts that had to be bought from the town (with all the businesses listed), and that the other group of guards would be coming to replace them would have been impressive even for politicians. And that was only the first of the lies he had told people that night.

Through the countless halls and stairways you passed through, you finally arrived at the basement. You had never been in there before, and it was a basement for basically just about anything— cars, old furniture, old belongings, a lot of scraps and some things covered with big, beige and gray drapes.

“We’re almost there, don’t worry.” Donghyuck had told your sleepy yet very much amazed self, bothering to turn around and laughing at whatever your expression was. You trailed behind him to the deeper corners of the basement, letting him lead you until he stopped in front of a group of furniture and what looked like instruments all bunched together.

“Is this it? They are surely not coming from the big entrance, and I would like to think you are not talented enough to smuggle them all the way inside here.”

There was a chuckle that echoed after that. “I don’t know whether you complimented or insulted me,” He was holding off on the honorifics seeing they could give everything away if someone had been watching, or were on your tails, or simply heard you. “But for the record, no they’re not.” And with that, he starts moving the old piano and the bigger pieces of furniture like a wardrobe and bookshelf— moving the rugs away and pushing the boxes with his feet until the metal square made itself apparent.

Donghyuck put the furniture he had pulled away in a way that would cover the two of you, a furniture wall if you will, and set the boxes on top of each other inside the wall as well as planting the rugs upright to imitate a cramped space behind the belongings.

It was kind of terrifying how good he was, and you could only hope he had learned such things in training.

Once he was done, he put a hand on his hip and pointed at the trapdoor. “We’ll be going in through there. It opens to the tunnels.”

The tunnels? They were more than a couple hundred years old, and supposedly in unusable condition, completely blocked. “I thought the palace was built on top of them to cover them up.”

“It was, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t an opening to it. Only the King and the architect personnel know about this I think, someone I know mentioned that he wanted to rebuild the collapsed part back up once.” He shrugs. “But he apparently gave up on it after noticing it had gotten visible to the surface after the heavy snowfall made the dirt on it collapse. We’re going to that end now, and trust me when I say no one ever goes there.”

Going through an old trapdoor proved to be harder than you initially thought. The old ladder was slippery with whatever it was, most definitely not fit for two people, and a bit shorter than the drop down.

It took quite a bit of speed walking to get to the end Donghyuck was talking about, and it was mesmerizing to you how there was this complex system of tunnels with brick walls and cracked stone with small hints of life whether it be plants that made their way in through the cracks or bugs, or the occasional stray cats.

But when you reached the end, there they were. The two silhouettes at the opening of the tunnel system and the collapsed remainder of it behind them. Moonlight was shining through in between and around them as they chatted, both of their shoulders shaking with slight laughter. Although you could not see them, you knew which silhouette belonged to the Prince. Maybe because of the way his shoulders shook, or rather because you had known him for so long already that you could basically find him with your eyes closed if you had to.

The silhouettes turned towards you at the sound of your footsteps when they were audible to them, and you could see the smile on Jeno’s face even in the shade of the tunnels. Automatically you smiled back at him and hurried into his arms that welcomed you, hugging into his chest with a happy chuckle. He kissed your cheek, breathing in your scent, and nuzzled his forehead against the side of your face and neck much like a cat as he cozied against the crook of your neck for a brief moment.

He had his hands on your shoulders when he pulled back and took a look at you. “How are you, dove?”

You smile. “Sleepy, but otherwise well. You look far better than I do.” Jeno tilted his head with his eyes squinted. “I’m sleepy as well but the cold has a way of waking people up.” Not to you, after so many years of living here.

When he noticed Donghyuck who had been standing next to you for a few seconds at that point, he asked him about his well being and inevitably cut through his conversation with Jaemin with an apology to be polite. The two guards had been standing at a bit of a distance in order to give you some personal space, you noticed.

Then, he addressed them both in his gratitude. “Thank you for taking the time out of your sleep to make this possible for us,” When he said it, he meant it. You got two bright smiles in return, and words followed those of two of your favorite people in the world.

“We vowed to be loyal to you, to protect you no matter the circumstances and to keep you in safety, your Highness,” Donghyuck quoted the same way once how Jaemin had done. But his smile spread a bit further across his face as he looked at the two of you— with you leaning into Jeno’s side and his hand placed at your waist, almost back-hugging you as he tried to warm you up with his body heat, both of you oblivious to your states.

“And beyond that, we just want to see our best friends happy.”

The Last Wound

To say that the war had broken out would be a severe understatement.

As if on cue, mere weeks after Jeno’s words governments and monarchies around the world had started declaring war against nations upon nations, showing their feuds and unmet requests as the reasons. There were sides that were established; sides that your father refused to be a part of, hiding in the safety of neutrality for the time being. That being said, the military was still getting aided economically and personnel-wise, guards being transferred into several military branches they could serve in without much training and folk (usually the ones that were severely affected by the financial hardships of the war) taken into the accelerated guard training. There were many faces all around.

The land, thankfully, had been secure so far except for the economical burdens. People were still reliable. The monarchy and your family continued to be respected, presumably because of the immense effort your parents and you put into making feel everything as normal as you possibly could.

But news came in every single day, sometimes more times than you could count, and they were scary nonetheless.

Some nations were fighting on land, some at sea, some in the air. There were too many people that had lost their lives for absolutely no reason that should concern them and their words and actions. Too many had been left in poverty, in famine, in conditions that no human should be left in. Too many homes destroyed, too many businesses left unrecognizable.

Theoretically you had known it all. All your life you had been educated on the possibility of this exact situation. War and its consequences were something you knew too well already, but it was much different to experience it first-hand. And you were not even experiencing it truly first-hand, the people were.

Your routine had changed for the past few months as well. Everything was fast paced. You would be woken up in the mornings either by Donghyuck or your doorkeepers, and would immediately go to have breakfast, checking several newspapers in the process while listening to your father’s senior advisor read out the papers that had arrived that day and summarize the reports of the past days. Then you would move to your office to deal with all the paperwork that were unnecessary burdens on your parents’ shoulders. They would be taking care of calls and meetings while you dealt with the maths and the written bureaucracy. That would go on until it was late in the night and you had to go to sleep to start all over again the next day.

One of the most concerning facts was that you had not heard from Jeno in months, aside from the rare shared secret phone calls between your primary guards and the one letter he was able to send at the very start of things. All you knew was that he was not dead, according to the countless newspapers you had read so far.

And that was all that mattered.

Surely there were days where you were more concerned about him and his well being, but you tried to keep your attention on your work and your people. The distraction, and the fruits of your hard work helped to keep you in line.

It is on one night where you are lounging around with your family in the library to read and forget about the problems a little that Donghyuck barges in, but with a few knocks beforehand in proper etiquette.

He bows his head in greetings when your heads turn at him, and when he picks it up, you can see the slight panic on his face. “Good evening your Excellence. Your Majesty,” Then, he physically turns to you, pointing his feet at your direction where you  stood, picking out another book. “Your Highness, I have the car ready.”

You furrow your brows. “For what reason?”

“There is a tree selection going on to be distributed to people in need,” Your father says without glancing up from his book. “You have been working so hard lately and you hardly even go out to the garden. You deserve to take a breather. Go and take your coat.”

So you do.

Hurrying to your room, you ask for a staff to give you your coat and gratefully receive the help that they offer when they dress you. Donghyuck walks after you, waiting for you just outside of your door. When you come out you realize the restless look he has to his body. Especially when he starts speed walking right after you come out of your room.

He does not say a single word until you are out of the building and walking through the garden, he only encourages you to hurry up. But when you are close to the gates opening up to the road of the palace, he speaks up. “You aren’t selecting trees, I’ve got that covered.”

Your response is immediate. “Where are we going then? Did something happen?” The snow crunches below your feet and it is growing harder to keep up with Donghyuck’s pace as he keeps his eyes nowhere but forwards. “He’s here. I’m taking you to him.”

Donghyuck’s words make your heart jump in your chest half in excitement and half in worry. “How is he—?”

“They were moving bases. Jaemin said the Prince told him to make a stop at the forest,” He smiles slightly then, as you can see from the side. “He needs to see you, apparently.”

A warm feeling spreads over your chest, and excitement finally takes over, as well as happiness. “That is fortunate, because I need to see him as well.”

The car ride to the forest closer to the top of the mountains was a bumpy and somewhat long ride in the black car that melted into the dark go the night. Towns all around were strictly following a dark-out rule each night after a certain hour— to make the areas undetectable from the air and hard to detect even in person in case of an attack. Therefore the ride is definitely dark except for the shining lights of the car, the snowfall growing faster as it climbs up.

Donghyuck sits beside you instead of at the front seat and keeps his eyes narrow and focused on the road. At some point he leans forward and tells the driver that they can drop you two off at this point, and that they should be back here to pick you up in a couple hours sharp.

And then, you two leave the car.

He helps you with walking uphill in the thick snow. The snowfall, although fast paced, is with big and fluffy flakes. Nonetheless, when the slightest wind makes the flakes hit your face, it hurts.

The two of you walk deep into the forest, deeper than you would have expected, and you have a good feeling that you would not have trusted with the process if it was not Donghyuck walking beside you with a lantern in his hand. Another lantern gets visible after a while.

And you get happy, so happy like a child, slipping a bit on the snow when you try to pick your pace up.

But when you see their faces, your heart drops.

You notice Jaemin’s face first, as he is the one holding the lantern, and you notice the big healing slash on the side of his face. It is the initial alarm for you that immediately makes your gaze turn to Jeno who is standing beside him.

And surely enough, he looks horrible. There are several cuts on his face that are not as big as the slash on Jaemin’s cheek but still quite fresh, his lip has long busted before and is now almost healed, there are stitches near his hairline on the left side, and his under-eyes are almost a plum-colored purple from how dark they are. You can almost feel his hurt.

“Oh my god,” Is the first thing that leaves your mouth when you hurry towards him. “What happened to you?”

You try to hug him but he hisses, prompting you to lean back and take his face into your hands instead, inspecting the injuries. This is exactly what I was talking about, you think, I knew something like this would happen. I knew you and the people around you would get hurt somehow, so why did you have to go and fight?

“My love,” Jeno greets you by nuzzling deep into your hands, his head dropping a little, but you do not listen to him. “Are you two okay? What happened?”

“The base got raided, your Highness.” Jaemin responds, and you notice he sounds almost too good for a person that has such a wound on his face. “Hence the change of bases.”

“I am healthy. Just sore.” Jeno adds, and chuckles drily once. “Turns out I am not all too good at one-on-one combat.” He tries to be funny despite themselves, but the state they are in is too bad for it to work. Making light of whatever had happened seemed like a far stretch.

Naturally, you cannot bring yourself to laugh at his joke. “I am thankful for that,” But you smile to comfort you both despite the situation. “Not that you got your bums handed to you, but that you are healthy.”

Jeno giggles with his mouth closed at that, and lets you pull him to a kiss when you tug at his face. His face feels really cold, more so than yours, and you wonder just how long they had been standing outside deep in the forest. “You are cold,” You breathe onto his lips.

“Mhm,” He mumbles. “But I want to stay for longer.” He joins in on it when a smile spreads pulls at the corners of your lips.

Getting a move on, you both sit on the snow under a tree not wanting to stand up for longer because in all honesty, Jeno looks nothing but exhausted. Donghyuck hands his lantern to you so you could have a light source before walking away with Jaemin— not too far as it is easier than ever to get lost in the forest with the dark night and the heavy snow.

“How have you been?” You ask Jeno once you are both comfortably seated, holding his hands in yours in an attempt to warm them up even though he seems to be in some of his warmest clothes. There was no guide on how to approach someone who has been through things he had been through, so you did not know how to and the best you could do was being careful about it. “How are things out there?”

“Like hell,” His answer is immediate. “People invade anywhere and everywhere, making decisions is so difficult, sometimes everything is so loud and mostly unnecessary and—“ He takes a breath. “A lot of them die. From both sides.”

Your heart drops further. “Do the decisions you make, do you think they—?”

Jeno shrugs and shakes his head. “I do not know. I try not to think about it.” His answer is spit out quickly. He takes a hand out of your hold, shaking with stress and probably exhaustion. His fingers rub his temple and his thumb rubs the middle of his forehead to try and ease the tension. “They are not even my decisions,” He speaks with pent up frustration and anger. “What goes in the end is my father’s word and demand.”

“He makes the decisions for you?” You ask with brows furrowed further. “When you are the lieutenant in the field?” A ridiculed chuckle leaves your mouth. “Why is he not there then?”

“I try to deal with everything as peacefully as I can, I plan all these negotiations and I mean, I use the advice that the counselors and other senior military personnel give me,” Jeno rambles. “But when I tell him about it he says that it does not work out for the plan according to the policies we have when in fact they do. Then why did he let me train in the military for so long?”

His chest moves up and down quickly and deeply when he is done with his words. You can see his eyes glistening, which is why you approach him lighter with your next words. “You do not have to inform your father beforehand,” At that, he turns his face to you. “If people agree with you, the heir and the lieutenant, you do not have to get your father’s permission. Let him know afterwards instead.”

“That is ridiculous.” An airy laugh comes out of Jeno. It irks you, how his first move is to shut you out. “He is the King. He has done this for years, and even after this all ends it is his word that counts. And he is my father, I do not want to disappoint him. One wrong thing I make, and all he ever did goes to trash.”

“I am sorry to say this, but in my eyes your father is someone with dead straight views. You could prove yourself to him by showing him it could all work out if your word went instead of his around the field— you could get away with less harm as well,” You try to reach him with your words, your voice soft in an attempt to not agitate him further. “You really do not have to follow your father’s guidance.”

“I do!” You know that it is the pure frustration speaking. “You don’t! Didn’t your father send you there because he trusted you? You are a man fully grown and capable of making your decisions— you will be the ruler sooner than later. Doing what your father tells you to do, constantly, is not going to help with anything especially in the future when it will be you who has the call on everything.”

There is a silence where the two of you do nothing but look at each other. His eyes shift continuously and very slightly as if they are trembling. His jaw clenches and he lets a loaded breath out that comes from deep within his chest, letting his head turn forward again and his back hit the tree. He furrows his brows and a couple of his shaky fingers come up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know,” Another burdened breath. “He has been saying he is proud of me.”

And you understand what it is about.

Nevertheless you hate that he lets his father’s pride do this to him; getting him hurt both mentally and physically. Like before the war, you act in a moment of selfishness as you take his hand in yours again and give it a squeeze. “Let’s run away.” Your voice sounds firm and confident. “Get married at that place deep in the forest, and go to some other place. Run from this madness wherever it follows us and come back when everything is over with,” The smile on your face is audible in your words. “We would be so free, Jeno.”

But Jeno breaks your heart into pieces when a sad chuckle leaves his lips and a heavy whine follows. “I wish we could.”

Without another word, you lean towards him and kiss his neck, his jaw, his cheek and temple. Pulling his hand away from the side of his nose on his cheek, which became its resting place after squeezing the bridge of his nose, you place his arms around you and pull him down to your shoulder by his hair for him to rest. He kisses the side of your neck as well, smiling at the feeling of the slinging chain around it, and slides his head back down.

Your hand still in his hair playing with it, you whisper your last sense to him. “It is your pride in yourself that matters. Not his.”

Jeno only nods. And within a few minutes of his steady breathing, he is fast asleep on your shoulder.

When the guards come back after so long a while you spent playing with his hair mindlessly, you have one request from Jaemin. “Make sure he sleeps on the way, will you?”

The First Breakdown

The first time he had cried to you had happened at a surprise visit.

In fact, he had visited you because of it. Had taken more than several hours of his time and more than several lies through his mouth just to get to you and to be vulnerable. In his defense, it was because he could be so vulnerable only with you.

Even so, you had never seen him cry before.

It was in the middle of the night again when Donghyuck had knocked on the door of your office, where you were catching up on some of your studies. He had told you that you had a visitor, and that they were waiting for you, and it had been all that it took for you to stand up from your chair and start walking with him. Following him, you had gone to the basement again, moved the furniture again, went down the trapdoor again, walked a lot again, and had seen the two silhouettes at the end of the tunnel again.

Only this time, only one of the silhouettes’ shoulders were shaking. And not because of laughter.

Jeno had started crying the moment he had spotted you. Jaemin tried to talk to him, but Donghyuck only pulled him away to go away for keeping watch; gave the two of you the privacy you needed.

It came as a shock at first. Jeno never cried— not once, you think, in the entire time you had known him starting from your childhood years. Even when people cried around him. Even when he was at a funeral. Even when he was too happy. Even when he got hurt and was in physical pain. The only exception would be the times you saw him angry where his eyes would tear up, but never did they spill before.

After they left you—  without wasting any time— pulled Jeno to you, letting him hug you however and wherever he needed. He made himself comfortable with his face in your shoulder, close to your neck, and his arms around your waist with hands spread across your back. You ran your fingers through his hair as he sobbed. Violently so. You could tell whatever he was crying about was not a one-time thing. It had been bottled inside and pent up for too long.

He held you that way and cried maybe for an hour straight for all you knew. But when his tears died down and all that was left were sniffles, you had finally asked him. “What is the matter, sweetheart?”

There was a content sniffle at the choice of your rare use of a nickname, if that could even be a thing. But a few heavy breaths followed after that, like he wanted to say the things on his mind but could not bear to. You only pulled your chest away from his to be able to look into his eyes, and shook your head. “You do not have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Jeno placed his forehead on yours and stood in place, breathing with his eyes shut. You shut your eyes too, trying to connect with him at a level that is beyond words because that was what he seemed to need.

But then his voice cut through the night. “I just want him to love me.”

It angered you to no extent that you knew who he was talking about. “What did he do?”

He chuckled bitterly. “Humiliated me in front of my mother’s family and the whole staff at my early birthday celebration in the morning.” There was a gulp as he weighed the words that were told to him once again, as if they would have been lighter that time. “Said he could not believe I was his only son and only child. That a peasant would have done a better job at being a king if he placed one on the throne right then and there. That I am lost in useless studies. That whatever I do is still clumsy as if I am a kid.”

You let him rant on because whatever this was, it seemed to work. “I try so hard to meet his every demand. His dreams for me are so challenging to keep up with but I honestly try, I do.”

“I know,” But he was not done. “I try to be a good son for him and my mother and I work really hard and I train really hard and—“

“I know, sweetheart.” You pulled slightly away again, and hated that you saw tears flowing down his face once more. “What did your mother do? Did she do something?”

“She told me to go to my room and that she would come to get me,” The smile on his face was tight. “But I couldn’t.” A single sob left his mouth, defeated. “So I asked Jaemin to sneak me out.”

“You did the right thing,” Jeno shook his head and tried to turn it away from you, but your hands took a hold of it from the back. “Hey,” You forced him into eye contact, and saw that his tear-invaded eyes looked almost drunk. Empty and sluggish. Nothing like his usual sparkling, poem-worthy orbs. “You did the right thing by getting out and away from there.” But he shook his head, so you shook yours in a questioning manner, prodding him to tell you why. “When we get back they will ask him about everything first and then they will ask me. I am just troubling him.”

“Believe me when I say you are not. He is your best friend before he is your guard. He cares about you, sweetheart.”

It took awhile for that to sink in, but it did in the end and he nodded, which was what mattered. And you succeeded at making him smile genuinely when you kissed the tip of his nose.

What truly sucked then was the fact that you could not tell him that his father would love him someday. Because you did not believe in it, and you would not tell him what was a blatant lie to you. And despite it all, your beliefs, you could see how much he wanted to be loved by him. How much he wanted to be recognized by him.

So what could you have told him? ‘You do not need his love.’? That did not sound right. That felt like it was the opposite of what he should have heard. ‘Our love for you is stronger than your father’s lack thereof.’? That simply was not true for him even if it was for you and for Jaemin and for his mother, because there was a hole punched in his heart and he wanted it to be filled. Rightfully so.

In the end, you did not tell him anything related to his father. You just told him what was true to you. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. I am so grateful you are here, with me.”

The Last Breakdown

The two of you had not talked to each other in months, let alone see each other.

The war had been going on for too long at that point. It was a wake up call that showed you just how insatiable rulers were. If it was not land they were looking for, it was people that they could exploit in labor, or valuable reserves like mines or things like historical monuments that could be stolen. People were dying still. Even more so than the beginning, in fact. Some places were left in famine, a lot of places were taken over by other rules. Any war crime you could think of was most likely happening just outside the borders of your family’s rule.

Since day one of your education you had learnt about law and order, and ethics, and just like that they were all thrown out of the window in this chaos.

Standing in neutrality had proved to be harder and harder day by day as well. The economic conditions were not getting any better, trade was almost impossible because of the disassociation the other powers and partners who had declared their sides were putting you through, and the damage was big even though your family’s rule was one of the most powerful. Unemployment rates had risen despite your immense efforts to keep it stable, and in turn, healthcare had become a problem, hunger— especially throughout the population who had already been struggling with making a living below the hunger threshold— had become a problem, crime rates were on the rise.

Which was why your father, by the obligation the sociopolitical states provided him, declared sides one morning. Thinking it would be the best thing to do.

Of course it was opposite to the side where Jeno and his family’s rule had sided with. Your families’ stances had never been the same, so there was absolutely no way they could be now. And frankly, you did not care about that even though you recognized how big of an ordeal it was. All you could care about was the safety of your people and your loved ones in these cruel conditions.

Scratch that. You wanted innocent people to stay out of harm’s way. That was all.

War, in your opinion, was cowardice. You still could not wrap your head around the fact that people were mostly doing this just because they had feuds within themselves and the circle of their class. Hundreds of thousands, even millions of innocent lives were destroyed both literally and figuratively over some disagreements between only several rulers that were their ‘representatives’. Which was in fact the biggest lie you could have ever heard of, because they were just hungry for their exclusive benefits. There was nothing in this war’s roots where the actual folk were represented. Just elite individuals and their selfish problems.

Just because the said elite individuals did not want to make sacrifices.

The biggest cowardice.

After the declaration, the hard work you had to put yourself through was at least doubled if not tripled or quadrupled. You could barely get sleep anymore, and would count yourself lucky if you managed to get some shut-eye for a few hours seeing that even when you did get to lie down on your bed it would be restless with thoughts racing through your head. Most of your responsibilities still revolved around document work but at this point the document work had gotten more important and heavier in and of itself, to the point where your eyes burned and your brain screamed at you to give up reading the papers. The maths of it all had gotten a lot worse as well because now there were so many spontaneous expenses paid that sometimes there would be problems with communicating on time between bureaus and people, which would in turn lead to wrong calculations and wrong reports— which would in turn cause you to do everything from scratch again. Sometimes a single, seemingly minor error would take days to make right again.

The Prince came to visit you on one of those restless nights where you were rolling around in your bed with the discomfort weighing on your mind.

Donghyuck came to your door again and requested the doorkeepers to alert you that he was there. They did, and something in your heart immediately knew what was happening, so you only took your coat and bolted out the door.

And now he is rushing through the halls beside you, with you following him. “Where even are they?” You whisper as you pick your pace up, not even in the condition to feel excited about it.

“There is this abandoned farmhouse in the fields across the town.” He responds back, and your eyes widen. “How are they so close?”

“They are both in the military, your Highness.” His voice is serious as he speaks. “I would expect their stealth to be outstanding.”

Donghyuck leads you outside to the back road of the palace and it is raining outside, definitely with an intention to completely pour down within the hours that would follow. He covers your head as best he can with his jacket and places his hand at the top of the car when he opens the door for you, before hopping in himself.

Which is the exact point that you realize there is no driver, and that he hops into the driver’s seat.

“Donghyuck?” You lean forward with a frown on your face, placing your hand on top of the headrest-less seat which has its quality so that guards and whoever is inside can see the people sitting at the back (usually royals or their guests) better to ensure their safety. “What are you doing?”

“This is not a matter we can bring more people into at this point,” He says as he starts the car. “I basically bribed the guards to shut up about taking you outside the palace. If I brought a driver, I would have had to explain the situation.”

The frown deepens on your face just as he presses the gas and the car starts moving. “With what money?” You ask him, and you genuinely fear his answer at that moment.

He carefully drives his way out, even the guards at the gates not stopping the car to question his antics. It really was a wonder how much money he could have offered to them for their silence at only you leaving the palace with him, at an ungodly hour, in a car, and no other information given. It felt extremely suspicious even for an heir and their primary guard.

You could not help but also notice his silence after starting to drive, so you pushed your question. “Donghyuck, with what money?”

The guards tilts his head and licks his lips before making eye contact with you through the rear mirror for a split second. “I had been saving some from the allowance my mother sends me and from my paychecks for some time,” His eyes turn back to the road as your mouth falls open and your brows furrow, about to protest. But he beats you to it. “It doesn’t matter, really,” He says, and you know he means it, because you can hear the genuineness. “It doesn’t matter if it’s for the relief and happiness of my best friend and the person I’ve vowed to protect.”

At his words, you slump back against the seats. There is a lump in your throat that makes it hard to speak, so you do not. You only turn your gaze to the scenery outside your window and take out your necklace through the collar of your coat, holding your engagement ring in shame. It does give you comfort, but you still find yourself wanting to cry.

The ride does not take too long despite the rain, as there are no people outside and on the roads because of the dark-out policy, and since it is a fairly straight drive with no hills to drive up.

The two of you reach the farmhouse without a hassle. Donghyuck puts the car somewhere less visible (even though it is nighttime and the car’s exterior matches the dark) before he allows you to get out. He then guides you to the barn where the Prince and his guard must be and opens the doors.

Again, there are a couple of lanterns around that provide dim and unnoticeable light. The heir and his guard are standing apart, and you can see your love walking up and down with his hands linked at his back. He halts, however, when he sees you.

You waste no time in running into his arms, and the ugly sob that leaves your body is loud enough for everybody to hear when you tackle him with your arms around his neck and shoulders. The tears break free when you nuzzle yourself into him everywhere, squeezing him tight for numerous reasons. Because you missed him so incredibly much, because everything was going bad, because you were tired and you knew he was also tired, because he is looking better than last time where he almost gave you a heart attack, because you love him, and because it hurts that everything has come to a point where two of the people that care about both of you the most, and two of whom you care about the most, has to put themselves in danger and through many sacrifices. Because you feel ashamed for what you are causing. Because somehow everyone standing in that barn is hurt someway or another, even if they are things that all of you can make right whether it be by yourselves or with help.

“I have you, sweetheart,” Jeno whispers as he kisses your cheek, catching a tear that was trailing its way down. You smile at your shared and reserved nickname for the times where one of you had to console the other while they cried, but it is still a bitter one, because you can hear his choked voice as well. “I have you. It is alright.”

But you can see Jaemin behind him and Donghyuck, who is looking down at the ground. Jaemin looks at you with pity and genuine sadness, so much of those that you cannot give them a meaning. Yet it fires something in you when he looks at you like that. The best you can do is to cover your eyes with your hand. “Jeno, we—“

“I know. I know, my love.” He kisses you once more, this time from the top of your head. He rubs your back and holds you tight in his arms as you cry in your shame and emotional overload.

Why does it have to be this way? You think. Why is it so hard to make things work? Why is abhorrence at the base of everything, even love? I love you and you love me, so why do others have to be involved? Why do other factors have to be involved? And even if they have to be involved, why do others have to get hurt because of our love? Why does everything need to be so precise in order to have a chance for this to work? Why can’t this be happy and like a game again, where our excitement is caused by the fluttering of our hearts and not because of the dread that makes our heart race? Why do you have to do what you have to do, and why do I have to do what I have to do?  Outside of our love, why do people have to suffer? Why are people so selfish and filled with so much hatred that there is no place in their hearts for negotiation nor empathy? Why does everything link back to those people in the first place? Why are those people in charge of everything in life?

You weep, and Jeno holds you. He sits you down, and pulls you close to his lap, and he holds you. He asks the guards to please wait somewhere else, and he holds you. Your weeping subsides, and he holds you.

And you remember, when all that is left is your sniffling, that his voice was choked too. That he was about to cry too, when you first walked in.

So you ask him with your hoarse voice. “Why were you upset before, when I first saw you?”

His hand that holds you pulls you close a little tighter. “I wanted to tell you something, but I don’t think I can.”

Your eyes furrow again, but you nod once. “Why?”

He chuckles this deep, airy, thick huff that is full to the brim with emotions you cannot quite decipher, and then says what is on his mind. And his voice is so sad, so loaded and tired that you tear up again at his hopeless words. “I suppose you would not love me the same.”

A tear falls onto his hand resting on his lap with that.

The First ‘I Love You’

Dreamy, was all you could say about it.

It was the fruit of most probably the stupidest thing you two had ever done in your relationship. On one summer night where Jeno and his family were hosting a dance for his cousin’s engagement, he had stood beside you and leant into your ear to tell you that you should meet with him at the vineyard in their garden in half an hour, and excuse yourself saying you are going to your room. He seemed to be playful that night, conversing with anyone and everyone that stood in his way and entertaining them; genuinely happy for his cousin and his fiancé. On top of being entertaining, he looked like he was entertained as well. Aside from the happiness he felt for the couple, there was this whole-hearted, content smile on his face. Even when nobody was conversing with him, or looking at him.

You had gone there as a representative with only Donghyuck accompanying you. The King and the Queen were too busy with duties revolving around politics— and in all honesty, they did not want to be too involved with his family in the first place. So they had sent you as a solution.

It was a good solution for them and you. You could not protest such a plan.

Half an hour seemed to not pass at first. You were eager to be with him, as you did not have the time to meet beforehand, and to be close to him. There was something about the way he made you feel when he smiled around and beamed like a sun under the moonlight with his happiness like that.

To make the time pass, you did everything you could possibly think of. You conversed with people you do not have the slightest connections to, barely knowing who they were. Congratulated the engaged couple with a polite manner and got surprised by the same politeness they seemed to showcase. In return delivered a short speech to them about how lucky they were to find each other and to be with the person they loved and be open and celebrated about it in a world like yours where relationships like theirs between a royal and a commoner were hard to come by.

As if on cue, Donghyuck who must have been informed about the meeting beforehand called for you from just behind you, prompting you to excuse yourself by saying you had already had quite the travel, and that you would be leaving early tomorrow morning. That you had to catch some rest before you left for duty. They nodded in understanding and thanked you for coming, sending their best wishes to your family.

They were almost too good for the royal family they belonged to, but all of it was genuine.

Donghyuck walked you to the front yard then, taking you to the small vineyard area where Jeno was standing. Jaemin was at a distance as far as you could tell, conversing with other staff that seemed to not be guards. Soon enough, though, the staff he had talked to would leave and go to the backyard where the celebration was, leaving the four of you alone in the visible distance.

Jeno met you halfway, greeting you with a sweet peck on your lips. “Welcome, dove,” From the side of your eyes you saw Donghyuck leaving after seeing you two meet to greet Jaemin in the distance.

You giggled at Jeno’s words then, looking at his eyes that bore the rather occasional glasses that night. “I have been here for quite a while now.” He tilted his head and nodded, squinting his eyes, silently saying you are right but not spot on. “But you haven’t been here when it is completely empty. An immensely different version of this place.”

Furrowing your brows, you smiled at him mischievously. “What are you trying to imply?”

And he played along. “The guards are changing shifts,” With a hand, he moved his jacket’s sleeve to look at his watch with slightly furrowed brows. “We still have around five minutes, and I was thinking we could go to my room.”

He beat you to it to understand the rather shocking and awkward way his words sounded. “Only if you would like to.” Even under the weak light of the stars, you could see the embarrassment flushed over his face. The boldness he held had almost dissipated.

All honesty due, you wanted to go to his room. It sounded amazing, getting to spend time with him one-on-one completely alone for the first time outside of a library, where even guards would not enter to leave you unbothered while doing your studies. You wanted to have him to yourself truly, without guards or anybody else for once. So you nodded. “I would like that.”

The smile was back on his face. “Then we should hurry up.”

Taking your hand in his, he hurried you inside. Their palace was just as grand as yours. It was dizzying with the halls and the open plan, grand staircases, and it held a lot of colors to it presumably because of the warm climate. Paintings on the walls, lots of feature walls with art painted onto them, gold linings and marble floors. Nothing like yours, which is older than theirs so a bit grimmer with the colors. The cold climate had its effects on it too. Mostly everything was either dark in color like deep blues and greens or extremely light like almost-white grey, with old wood on the rooms’ floors and stone in the halls.

When you entered Jeno’s room, it felt weirdly familiar. Both of you had balconies, for instance. His balcony doors were right beside his bed, and his room was cluttered with bookshelves just like yours, blueprints and pencils lying around on his desk and his paintings of planets and constellations leaning against the wall under his desk, some of his favorite research papers and scientific articles messily pinned on a big cork board.

His room felt a lot like him to you. It looked all about his interests, anything other than politics which seemed to drain both of your personalities out slowly but surely.

It looked like a safe space.

He showed you his paintings and told you all about them. His love for Neptune for example, how he liked its color and its personation in mythology. How he loved sketching stars the way he understood them from the books he read, transitioning through their seven stages of life, growing bigger and stronger until they expand into a Red Giant where it is its biggest at a diameter up to a hundred times of its original diameter to then transform into a White Dwarf where everything is dense and quickly growing cold, losing all of its personality, and finally the Black Dwarves where they were so old and so cold. Jeno went on to talk to you about how in way too far into the future eventually all the stars would be Black Dwarves and the universe would be even colder than it was then, but that there would be a second explosion where something new started.

He showed you his blueprints, skimming through the lines with his fingers, and told you how he dreamt of renovating the palace with his own prints someday. And he told you about the scientists that would inspire him to not give up on learning about space no matter what.

Jeno did talk about his interests, but usually they were confined to conversations in the library. Never had you once seen him talk about it so passionately before, the kind of passion where it added new sparks to his eyes, and something about it made you extremely happy to see.

At some point he realized he had been rambling about all these things in his room and the stories behind them, and had apologized. “Ah,” He rubbed his nape as it hit him with a chuckle. “Sorry. I get excited when people pay attention to these.”

“No, don’t,” You shrugged with your own smile. “You should not be sorry. It is very refreshing to see someone be so passionate about something.”

There is the start of a silence, but you cut through it before it can take over, pointing to the board. “And I agree with those scientists. Keep learning about the universe in your free time. It would be a shame if you got shackled to the small ground underneath.”

Jeno laughed at that, his shoulders shaking with the airy release. When it died down he looked around his room, his bookcases and desk, and the door that led to his bathroom, the documents he had taken care of that day before the event had started placed on the armchair next to the bookshelf, several notes set on them reminding him to do the things he had to take care of the next day.

And then he huffed, walking over to his bed and sitting down. He fiddled with his fingers a little. Looked up at the ceiling. Another lonely chuckle left him as he contemplated on what he wanted to say. “Can you.. Do you think—?“ One more fierce huff through his nose, but then he looked at you. “Can you not go to your room tonight?”

He saw that you were about to protest on auto-control, so he stopped it before it could happen, and made it a silent promise to himself that it would be okay if you wanted to leave. Even if it happened to be right then. “We do not have doorkeepers at night. No offense to how your family does things, but it feels creepy for me to have it, so we just do not have them. You would not be stuck or anything.” He shrugged, smiling but pouting at the same time, if it could even be a thing. “It is just really nice to have you in here.”

With the comfort of what he had just told you, you smiled and hoped Donghyuck would not lose his mind until the morning. “I think I can stay.”

Walking over to him on his bed, you stood in front of him and let him hug your middle with his head on your stomach. You ran your fingers through his hair repeatedly knowing he liked the combing feeling on his scalp. At some point while you played with his hair and scalp he tilted his head, placing his chin on your stomach instead and looking up at you with a smile on his face. The genuine, happy and content smile you had seen on his face throughout the night before you fled to his room. “I think I am in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

Your fingers faltered with the smile that spread on your face, and the warmth that spread through your chest surely reached everywhere at the spoken knowledge of being loved. Truly and utterly loved.

You had your suspicions of it before with the way his words sounded and the way he acted. But to hear them being confirmed, so casually and bold and with confidence, made you feel like the most important person alive. In a different way than how it had felt all your life. Like it was only the two of you that mattered on the face of the Earth. Hell, like it was only the two of you that existed on the face of the Earth.

Then your hands retracted from his hair to carefully take his glasses off, putting them on the side table closest to you. Slowly you knelt down until you were face to face with him, and told your love your only request from him. “Kiss me and promise me a forever.”

So he did. Jeno gulped a little at first, keeping his eye contact with an intense gaze, one that mirrored everything in and around him. But then he crashed your lips with his, bringing a hand up to your neck and tugging at it gently in hopes of bringing you down onto the bed with him, which ended up being a wish that you granted. You let him pull you down and lay you down on the bed underneath him as he kissed you, not only on your lips anymore but anywhere he could find exposed. “I don’t want to call you dove anymore, as pretty as it is.”

“Hm?” Was all you could respond with as he kissed your neck. “I want to call you my love.”

At that did something burn and tumble inside you, and you found yourself talking before you could hold it back. “Say that again.”

He laughed out a huff. “My love,” He kissed your collarbone, nibbling only a little, driving you two to the edge with the frustration of what did not come after. “My love,” The nook between your jaw and your neck. “My love.” And your lips, sinking down with all he could offer you. It sounded better— more right in his ears to call you that, and you had to admit that the feeling of being treated exactly like what he called you was otherworldly.

When he pulled away from you, his lips puffy and his gaze still intense yet somewhat softer with the adoration that made itself more apparent, he gave his promise. “I love you my love, and I will for an eternity.”

With a laugh, you gave him your own promise right then and there too. “I promise to love you until the end of time.”

He found it appropriate to meet his lips with yours again, and this time, it was with a newfound hunger you had for each other, filled with the wish to know one another on a level you could not know otherwise had you not loved each other, intimate and private and special. The kind that made your heart race and your stomach twist in the best way possible. The kind that did not feel rushed, but instead gave you relief in knowing yes, it had not been wrong all this time. It was him for you, and for him it was you; the one.

Jeno made love to you that night when he asked you if he could and you gave him the permission, wanting to lose yourself in him and his love and yours. For once you got to spend a whole night with him, making love and talking and showing your love to each other.

And after that, the memory of him under his white sheets kissing you and laughing with the light blue of the lifting night, and the weak but golden-white rays of the early morning sun became the dearest thing to your heart and mind.

Jeno and white, and Jeno in white reminded you of that night.

The Last Goodbye

Everything starts at the dead of the night.

You do not know what was more alarming to you. The crashing sounds of windows that woke you up from your light sleep? The hurried steps that turned into running outside your room, breaking into an unsettling rhythm in the pure silence? The sound of crashing doors and harshly turned locks? The sounds of metal clanking? The occasional firing of the guns and the couple of groans and shouts that follow them? The shouted codes between the guards right outside your room? The surprised curses that leave whoever’s mouths? The unsettling feeling of not knowing who is who outside, perhaps?

Or the fact that you are completely alone for a few minutes, not knowing where to hide because of the shock?

More, the fact that Donghyuck takes longer than you would expect him to come get you, pushing you into thinking did they get to him? Did something happen to him?

There is not a single question in your mind about what this is. The palace is getting raided with soldiers— not that many like a whole army, considering the somewhat inactive nature the commotion seemed to have while you listened to it from your room. Never did you ever feel grateful that your room was placed in a deep and unsophisticated hall away from the library and the archives and the throne room, but you felt so grateful for it as you could do nothing but hide yourself away, locking the balcony doors and covering the doors with your curtains— completely blacking your room out.

You hurry over to the bathroom then, waiting next to the wardrobe sunken into the wall, knowing the far right compartment of it has an opening to a pathway between the walls of the rooms in between the halls that is otherwise inaccessible except from the way down.

The commotion grows more aggressive as you wait. Gunshots grew more frequent yet did not fail to make you jump in your place, and it is when you hear an order of search around that you lock yourself further in your room, locking the bathroom doors as well. You could not see anything, so there was nothing to do but wait for Donghyuck until he came to get you. Just opening the compartment and walking into it was not a possibility as well, since you had no idea what was and was not going on down under the palace.

You lose sense of time as you sit on the cold, stone floor of your bathroom. You lose a big chunk of your sense of self as well. That big chunk of your self melts into the sense you lost, vision, and doubles your attention on hearing. Everything sounds more clear, more violent, and more scary, as you hear bodies falling onto the ground and punches and kicks if it was not guns and daggers. You did not even know such sounds could leave from people’s mouths when they shouted orders and codes and warnings.

Maybe you wait for an hour. Maybe for a few. Or only a few minutes. But in the end someone opens the compartment open silently, filling the bathroom with the artificial light coming from the lantern in their hand, and you only hope that it is Donghyuck.

Thankfully, it is.

His head peeks out from the door and he searches for you, rushing over when he spots you. He kneels down on his feet to level with you and holds his arm out. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” You say, but truthfully, you do not know how you are. You are okay in the sense that you do not have any wounds or injuries, but experiencing something so violent you had only known in theory before? Could anybody be okay when they experience such things, and are separated from the people they care about, completely isolated even though it is in an effort to keep them safe?

Donghyuck links his arm in yours and pulls you off the floor and bolts the two of you out of the compartment door. He locks it behind him, and takes his belt off of his pants, rounding it around the top of the door hinge and securing it by tying— trying to push the door forwards and back, satisfied when it does not budge the slightest bit.

He then picks the lantern he had placed on the ground and rushes over to you, leading you to the narrow stone stairway and taking you down.

The way down is far deep. You pass through rooms you had not known existed, open and close countless doors at the top of the stairways, and you have a good feeling that you go way down under the ground floor of the palace. But you arrive at the destination within a few minutes of basically running down the stairs nonetheless, and you know it is the lair under the palace that you had never been in before.

It is almost a smaller version of the palace. There is a lounging area, a very compact library and office separated in a small room, a kitchen and a bathroom all the same. The place has its own landline— though you hardly expect it to be available to anyone outside of staff.

You can see the council members, some of the military officials, and their personal guards, along with some staff from the kitchen who had most probably been doing early preparation for the next day. There are documents of all kinds sprawled across the lounge table and some across the floor, and you see the military officials jotting down their notes, as well as the heads of the council. All eyes land on you when you walk down the last step and hear Donghyuck close the door from behind.

Your parents are nowhere to be seen.

With your hands sweating immediately and clammy, you ask. “Where are my parents?”

Your father’s senior advisor stands up and walks over to you as a few others look down. There is nothing good that could come out of that, and you feared the answer, to the point where you do not know if you want to hear it. The advisor lands his hands at the sides of your arms, a touch you do not mind and find rather comfortable, considering you had known him your entire life and would trust him with everything. “Your Highness,” He starts. Donghyuck comes to stand just a step behind you before he can continue. “The King has gotten severely injured, but he is stable and soon he will hopefully be in good health.” His wrinkled, bright eyes look at you behind his glasses reassuringly and calmly. You wonder how he actually feels. “We are taking him and the Queen away to a safer place away from here. With some of our best doctors at their company.”

Worried, you feel your heart skip a beat. You can feel the sadness running to your head and chest like a wild horse, but the confusion that hits you presses it back down. “How will we deal with this if he is not here?”

The old advisor glances behind over his shoulder, and at the agreeing nods, he turns back to face you. He clears his throat. “The King is unable to attend to his duties presumably for a much longer time than the matter at hand, and the Queen is royal by crown and not by blood. Therefore, she cannot be the next ruler.”

Opening his mouth, he takes a big breath, and gives you the news with a full chest. “Hence why we need you, as our new monarch.”

A wave of high voltage electric rushes over you then within less than a second. His voice being calm, and him speaking the words out trying to ease you into them does not help at all. You feel like your knees will give out but you do not let them, because there is this part in your brain that has somehow already accepted this and is screaming at you to keep your composure. What leaves your mouth, though, is not much the same. “I can- I cannot do that, my education—“

You get cut off with reassuring words. “Your education would have continued until the day you had no chance but to become the monarch, no matter how long it took,” And then with some of encouragement. “Most fruitful practice comes out of the ruling process, and it is very unfortunate that you are in this situation your Highness, but you have trained for this all your life. There is not a person in this room who can do this better than you.”

And you can feel all eyes on you, pitying you and worried for you. Although pitiful, their eyes do have good meanings behind them for the most part, wishing you good luck for both their sake and yours. It is understandable even though it hurts to see it.

Taking another breath, the advisor speaks, holding you tighter between his hands and rubbing them a little to ground you. “I will bring the book now, okay?”

Without a single thought, you nod.

It happens in a blink of your eyes. The advisor moves to the library and everybody stands up from their seats, and those who're standing away come just a bit closer. They still give you the space you need, and Donghyuck pats your shoulder lightly, giving you the most genuine smile he could muster at that moment. And when the senior advisor comes back he holds out the book of constitutional law upright, looks into your eyes seriously, tells you to put a hand on the book and the other in the air, and asks you to repeat the Oath after him. “You can take your time,”

But you do not. You repeat the words after him at the same pace. I vow to protect my people and love them as my own family. I vow to work towards my people’s best interests. I vow to see and listen to them. I vow to see them as my equals no matter the situation and the differences. I vow to never stop working for the betterment of my own, until the day I pass, or until the day I have to step down. I vow to see my place on the throne sacred and important, and I vow to recognize my power and its consequences. And I take the oath, right now and in the witness of my aiders and the people, to serve them as their monarch for the days to come.

Everyone in the room bows and kneels around you, and you take your hand off the book. Just like that you become the monarch and nothing about it is as you imagined, even though you have never imagined it before.

“Your Excellence,” The advisor smiles a soothing smile. The change of honorifics feel unnatural immediately. “I sincerely hope better days are destined for your rule.”

You hope so, too.

There is no time for anything to sink in as the seniors all take you into the small library to have a meeting. They tell you all they know, that a remote number of soldiers still roaming around at least a couple thousand have broken into the palace and the nearby town mostly in civilian outfits, and that there is a number of people that has been taken hostage. Not much damage was done according to them, as in there was not an expectedly big number of people who had lost their lives as these some thousands of soldiers broke their way in. The towns were left in relatively good shape. “I suspect they are here for the palace and your father, your Excellence.” One of the military personnel says, and adds. “Our troops are after the soldiers with all their equipment to take the hostages back. They will be severely outnumbered, so I am positive we will succeed.”

And then, they talk about national security following this night, and the guards who have lost a significant amount of staff. They talk about the upcoming days where you would have to appear in front of your people to address these events and to give your condolences, describing in detail what is being done in the aftermaths of this first-hand attack your people and you have experienced, and what will be done to ensure the security’s, the justice’s, the politics’ and the legislation’s wellbeing, as well as addressing your efforts of the sociopolitical betterment that will inevitably see positive progress if you do the right things.

That is exactly what scares you to no extent. The possibility of not doing the right things at a time like this.

So when they leave, you stay in the library, digging into your most trusted sources of law, security and sociology. You take notes, and read, and take more notes, and think of how you might apply these theoretical things practically, and take notes when the ideas come to discuss with the advisor later, and read— and it becomes a cycle. At one point the landline in the library that you had not noticed its existence of rings, and you get the news that around a dozen of soldiers have gotten captured across the land, one close to the palace who was being interrogated. You work on the documents given to you by the seniors, sometimes calling them in and asking them questions and advice on your notes as they have been specifically at these things for years. You do not recall ever working harder before in so many areas at the same time, and you hate that it is such a thin ice you are walking on. One wrong step and you fall in the icy water, bringing the people you have vowed to protect along with you.

Some things go well. The hostages got released suspiciously early on, before the troops in your rule could get to them. They took the hundreds of hostages back with them for interrogation and to provide them food and water, and if needed, healthcare. Which only meant one thing, really.

This was a dirty work. An attempt at an assassination, most likely targeting specifically your father, and espionage. A wide network of an espionage, and thousands of soldiers had left with whatever information they had. Their targets were you and your family, not the people, even though a good part of them got affected.

It felt incredibly wrong for you to admit it, but you were almost grateful that the palace was the target instead of the people. You would have rather lost information than people, because you were strong, and you knew you could tackle whatever problem was thrown at your way once you got the hang of things.

And since you do not have the luxury of time, you were already getting the hang of things slowly but surely.

After a couple of hours, while you are tackling everything related to law and law in war as they are most important to you for the night, Donghyuck excuses himself in with a knock at the door.

By the way his face looked, you could tell you were going to get bad news.

“Your Majesty,” He starts. But you notice that he cannot find it in himself to look into your eyes. “I have the reports back from the interrogation of one of the captured soldiers.”

He hands you the papers, and you gladly take them. Name, Huang Renjun. Position, Private. Why did they raid? To get information from the archives. For what reason? For the use of the King. Was he involved in the assassination attempt? No, he was not appointed to that purpose. Did he hate your land? No, he did what he had to do. Why did he have to do it? Because he has a mother to look after, and the military pays well enough. Why was he involved in espionage? Because he had done it before. Why was he dressed in uniform? Because he wanted to get back to his mother if he ever got caught and had to serve time in jail, he did not want to take the right away from her— the right to visit him. Why was he shaking? They would not do anything to his mother, right? No, they would not. They are not that type of people. He has been providing useful information and been hopefully truthful until now, could he tell his lieutenant’s name?

Lee Jeno.

Surely it cannot be real.

You look at Donghyuck, and see him looking at you now. “I’m sorry.” Is all he can say.

It is as if someone pours a bucket of boiling hot water down your head, and another bucket of ice cold right after. You feel your heart sink. Disappointed, sad, let down, but what hurts the most is that you do not feel like it does not make sense.

Your hand tightens, squeezing the pen in your hold as the other lifts to rub your temple, both elbows placed on the table for support. Although you want to cry and scream, what leaves your mouth instead is an airy, unhumorous chuckle.

It takes a few seconds for it to kick in. “Take me to him.”

The guard opens his mouth, but you shut him up. “I do not care where and how. Just take me to him.”

Donghyuck comes back to get you in what feels like less than an hour.

When you get out of the small office you had been stuck in for hours, most of the military and security advisors and seniors are nowhere to be seen. They were most probably dealing with the finalization of the reports of the captured soldiers, transferring them to the hands of the judiciary system. The lair, at that point, was more of a place used simply because the palace could not be used still. Duties were still duties and not all of them could be delivered to a few floors underground.

The senior advisor— your senior advisor was about to protest when he saw you walk away with Donghyuck alone, but you simply told him you had to see it for yourself as the reason for your outing. You decline when he offers you more company, saying he could provide you with more guards.

Then, you were out.

But you do not make your way through the palace. It hurts when you notice Donghyuck is taking you through the basement again, even though it makes sense. Nobody knew about the tunnel system still.

You make a note in your mind to change that after today.

Feeling numb in the eerie quiet of the palace, you let Donghyuck lead the way, helping him with the furniture, dropping down the trapdoor, and walking beside him. Neither of you talk. What could he possibly say? What Jeno had done was beyond words.

When you arrive at the end of the tunnels him and his guard are there. Standing in silence. You pick your pace up, unlike the excited and hurried steps you used to take, but angry, disappointed and confronting. Jaemin looks at you before he does, and you see his pitiful look. He does not greet you with the usual nod he does. Jeno looks at you only when you are a couple of big strides away from him, his eyes bright at first, but dimming slowly.

This is the first time you meet him ‘alone’ in early daylight. And frankly, you do not care if somebody finds this place and discovers him at that point.

Taking the last couple of strides, you come to a halt in front of him with a considerable distance between you two. Your chest rises up and down with all the emotions you are feeling and all the thoughts that are racing through your head. With one particularly angry breath, you speak. “Jeno, I have one request from you, and that is for you to tell me my best friend and primary guard is lying and mean it.” At the mention of your guard you had pointed at him with your finger, looking into Jeno’s eyes to find something.

But he does not speak. Because he cannot lie. Because your best friend and guard was, in fact, not lying to you. Because he really was at the lead of all of this. And the guilt, you could see in his eyes that did everything to avoid your intense gaze.

Figures you were not the only one who noticed that, because you hear the sound of Donghyuck’s pistol behind you. You look back at him to see his gun pointed at Jeno, and you hear another one drawn behind you. Namely Jaemin’s, pointed at Donghyuck.

Everything really kicks in then.

Alarmed, you raise your voice. “Nobody is shooting anyone.”

Jeno does nothing. Does not back you up, nor say his independent thought. He just watches, frozen in place, looking at you and yet not looking at you. “Donghyuck, lower your gun down.”

“But—“ You shut him up for the second time within a few hours. “I said, lower your gun down.”

He does, and Jaemin follows suit. You turn back to look at the person standing in front of you.

You do not know who this person is, you cannot tell. Because the Jeno who stands before you is not the one you know. He is not the one you love as well. Because the Jeno you love is someone who has his own pride, feelings, dreams and conscience. Someone who has his own passions. Someone who stands against all the bad and all the evil. He is someone who loves people and who loves you, who is truthful to the people he loves and cares about. And he cares about a lot of people.

But this person in front of you, this Jeno, is not him. This is someone who wanted his father’s acceptance so much that he let it swallow him whole. When, even though he protested he was not, he was someone fully capable of making his own decisions. This is someone who is alright with being used as a puppet for the foreseeable future. This is someone that gave up his personality and dreams just to go with someone else’s. This is someone that did not care if others got hurt because of him. This is someone who is selfish, willfully blind and deaf.

The Jeno standing in front of you was someone you would pity at best. The Jeno that stood in front of you was someone that would be much like his father. Not respected and looked down upon. Oblivious to his doings.

There was so much you wanted for the person that stood in front of you. You desperately wanted him to have a part of himself that recognized the things he had done until this point, whatever he did to you and long before that. You wanted him to experience the aftermath for years to come. To hear the consequences was one thing— they could enter through one ear and immediately come out of the other, as fast as if he had not even heard it. But seeing the consequences would be different. Turning a blind eye every single day would be impossible. You want him to live in the reality of what has happened, and you want some part of him to recognize everything from today on as well.

Looking at his empty eyes, you furrow your brows and sigh. “Most of the soldiers will be handed over once their judiciary process is done. They were caught in uniform.”

You do not even feel like talking to him. It is so disappointing, he is so disappointing; you had such hopes both for the two of you and him. He had his dreams and this person he wanted to grow to be. And nothing about this was what hope entailed for you two. Individually and as a pair, and as people who had huge populations of people dependent on you and following you.

Instead of saying all the things you would like to say to him, you reach for your necklace with a shaky sigh. You take it off, and hold the ring out for him to take.

Jeno obediently opens his hand under yours, and you drop the ring into his palm. You cannot even find it in yourself to close his hand when he fails to do it promptly. Partly because you are scared you are doing the wrong thing and that there is hope for him still, and partly because you knew you would break if you did.

“Leave, Jeno. Take your hand off my rule, my people and my family. Take your men, too.” You take a deep breath and straighten up, looking deep into his eyes that still have sparks somehow.

Not being strong was not an option. “And never come back.”

Jeno nods only once ever so slightly, gulping and closing his palm, putting the necklace into his chest pocket before turning back on his heel and walking out into the bright and silver snowy morning light that surely consumes him whole with his guard on his trail.

It is extremely difficult to watch him walk away. Because the bottled up emotions rush to your chest and the memories rush to your mind, and it hurts when the acknowledgement of the past few years of your life is being thrown into the trash dawns on you. The past genuinely beautiful and happy years of your life where the two of you had taken so many risks, so many things to account, had told so many lies to make everything work. Where you had shared so many laughs, some tears, a lot of secrets- the biggest secret the two of you could possibly ever share, so many kisses and fond words and physical affection. Where you had shared your true love at the expense of living it undercover. Because you had loved each other so purely and so intensely that you could do anything for each other. Still, you believed that what you two had was such an incredible, true, and big thing.

Which was exactly why your heart physically hurt when he disappeared from your sight.

Because you knew who did this was not him, and that the person who disappeared from your personal life for good was not him. The ‘him’ you loved was nowhere to be found in whoever this was; someone who lived according to the strings that were being pulled. Who this person once was, would only live in your memories. And even those, with the start of your healing process, would slowly but surely die down.

So much for an eternity.

The First Vow

After the war everything turned back to normal slowly but surely.

You were becoming better and better at this ruling business you had to attend to, keeping in touch with the communities more in the aftermaths, occupied with duties of all kinds from any branch, meeting people, going on travels for said meetings, seeing beautiful sceneries. There would be new faces at the palace to get acquainted with every once in a while. You would get to go to trips in your own land, visiting farmers and asking about how harvest season was treating them, visiting businesses to see if they could hold up in the fragility of post-war days, visiting families in need to have a chat with them and hear them out, to see if you could do anything for them. More often than not you would be able to provide them care and whatever else it was that they needed. Sometimes you would visit schools and the neighborhoods no one dared to go into, and you would try to help them, too.

Sometimes you would check on the prisons and courts to see how the atmosphere was, and sometimes you would have a brief chat with Renjun on visiting days, updating him on his judiciary situation yourself.

Did the anxiety completely dissipate after what happened? No. Definitely not. The fact that you had gone through espionage on a very big scale was a fact that still stood strong.

But your father was there to aid you with his wisdom. Back on his feet and retired, living at a house far from the palace, your mother and him kept the doors open for you for whenever you had the time or the wish to pay a visit. Him and your mother’s experiences as well as their advice helped you so much during the beginning of your rule where everything felt like you had to learn how to walk again. You were grateful for them and your advisor, who would not comply with your words and just retire because he wanted to help you out as long as he possibly could.

Some things were nice. You were adored by the people, because you had been loyal to the oath you had taken so far. Your full days and duties were keeping your mind off of most things that could bring you down. The palace staff and you seemed to have a close relationship as well, genuinely having fun in your daily life because of your young aura that beamed with energy. Truthfully you were energetic. There was no way you could do what you did if you were not as energetic. You pushed yourself to be happy too, reminded yourself of these things to keep you going.

Yet, some things were bad. There were a lot of things that you could not get no matter how hard you tried, but that was okay, because you were trying no matter what too. The fact that your parents had moved out left you with the reality of living alone in an utterly gigantic space. You would have to eat breakfasts and dinners alone, reading a book while you ate because no one would agree to have a meal with you even though you told them it was okay— except for Donghyuck who would agree to have lunch with you most days. Going to your room would leave a bitter taste inside your mouth. And when you laid down on your bed, sometimes the daydreams of what you could have been come up.

You try to push them away, but sometimes you find yourself breaking down over them anyway.

And then, there are some realities. Like the fact that all these duties, although incredibly helpful at distracting, were growing to be a bit too much for you. The fact that you really needed to share these duties with someone to get some workload off your shoulders. The fact that although wise and helpful, your advisor is growing older and older, and you want him to have a retirement.

The fact that you need another monarch.

It is ridiculous how you deal with it. On one restless night where your mind is flooded with things you need to take care of and the things that are yet to come, you find yourself leaving your bed and your room. Without a drop of sleep in your eyes you walk down the halls and greet the guards silently with a smile on your face, changing the wings of the palace twice to go to the far left end and walking down numerous sets of stairs to get to the room you were looking for.

When you do get to it, you knock only once and excuse yourself in not caring if the guards were staring, finding your guard and best friend on his bed about to pass out. “Why is there such a thing where royals can walk into places without any alert beforehand?”

“I knocked.” He hums at that, and you move to take the seat in the chair at his desk across from his side of the bed. You look at him, who has his arms under his pillow, and think that it is better to pull the bandaid quickly rather than easing it. “Donghyuck.”

“Hm?” You love how he has given up on the honorific in this setting. Usually he would call you by your rather new honorific to get his mouth used to it. “Will you marry me?”

He snickers. “Isn’t that a rather important question to ask me at this hour?” You only smile, so he questions further with his squinted eyes. “Why?”

You shrug. “I need someone to share duties with, and I need someone who will understand me. The only person I can trust is you.”

That makes him smile sleepily, a soft huff of breath leaving his nose, causing his chest to jolt a bit forward. “Well I think I will have to take you up on that.”

“You do not have to,” You whine, a bit annoyed at yourself. “I can hold on for longer. Assign another senior advisor, I don’t know.” But it would not be the same as having someone you could constantly trust. And you needed that, someone who can be there for you whenever you needed them to, as much as you needed another monarch.

You also needed a partner if you were to commit to something so big.

“No, really,” He assures. “I feel honored. I don’t have much of a life outside of my life as your guard already. Which is okay, because I love it. I love that I get to spend so much time with my closest friend despite what they have to do, so when you ask that from me, it feels as something I would only benefit from,” There is a silence before he picks his words back up again, realizing they do not sound the greatest when they are left there. “As a person.”

“It is not that simple,” You warn him as you feel he leaves out some important points. “You will be the King. That is going to take a lot of work, at least a couple of years’ intense education. And all this time you have gotten used to shadowing people. It is a completely different thing to have countless shadows following you with every step you take.”

In all honesty you expect for him to consider it. To retract from his words, and to say that he is in fact not fit to that role because he wants to live a life more free. But he does not. Donghyuck just smiles and buries his face deeper into the pillow, and holds out a hand to you. “I was serious when I said I’ll have to take you up on that. I am willing to do whatever it takes.”

Relief washes over you then. It feels as if almost a big, heavy weight has been lifted from your shoulders at the knowledge that you will get to have someone to really help you out with everything and be there for you; someone who you will be willing to do all the same for them. And how fortunate it was that your closest friend would be that someone, because you think you lacked the energy to look out for new people at this point.

You sigh as you place your hand in his, holding onto his fingers when his curl into yours. “Thank you.” You whisper, and feel your hand get tugged towards him before you can feel his lips on your knuckles. “Let’s give these people the most flamboyant royal wedding they will ever witness.”

The two of you share a light laugh that would have surely been louder if it was not for the stupidly late hour this conversation took place in.

And that was it.

You had to remove Donghyuck from his position as your guard when you announced your engagement, getting rings the day after the conversation and breaking the news to the council at an emergency meeting. Thankfully they seemed to be on board with that, and teased the two of you for all the times you disappeared together without much explanation.

It made your heart pang that no, although you had disappeared together you two had not been the lovers. It was for and with someone else. Nonetheless, you were glad that they felt that way, so you made light of the situation by joining in on their laughs.

Donghyuck starts his education immediately after the announcement. It is a nightmarish process almost, seeing him so deep into studies you are far too acquainted with at that point, being reminded of your own struggles trying to learn. Sometimes you would meet him at the library if you had piled up document work to meet and work with him, which would result in him asking you questions about stuff he did not understand when the tutor was not around. Some other times he would nervously laugh at the dinner table (that he could finally join you at) when you would quiz him on things he should have learned, but he would do a great job at that as well, even with his occasional slip-ups.

Donghyuck would make public appearances with you from time to time, and the people would be loving the idea of you and him together. They would tell you how you went so well with each other and how you were so powerful together and they were great compliments, they were, but sometimes they would hurt you deep down even though you had a smile on your face.

In the first year of his education, you get a letter inviting you to a conference held in impartial land. A conference where safety measures and war prevention will be the focus, and one that will be held annually. You agree to it, go alone, see faces (one face in particular) that you do not want to see, and come back.

At a grand meal close to the end of the year with your family and the staff and the council and their own families, someone asks about the wedding plans. That happens to be the exact moment when you realize you do not have plans for your own wedding, and they tell you it is okay before drunkenly jumping from idea to idea on the colors and the venue and whatever else they had to talk about.

Mid-year after that, you slowly start letting Donghyuck in your business. You give him first-hand education, saying these documents should be handled like that and these types of documents should be taken into meetings instead of those ones even though they are basically the same thing, and these reports come from here to go to there, and they go there when you hand them to someone (which sometimes happened to be him in the past) but when you are the one sitting down while doing all your work you call people over like this when you want something to be delivered. And when you file them you can have your own way but one that is preferably neat, I like to do it this way, for example. It becomes an occurrence that grows more and more frequent as time goes by.

Around the cold fall of that year, Donghyuck almost gets done with his education. He had known quite a lot in theory having been with you for a long time and that was probably what helped with him and his pace, and since it came to that, the wedding planning started. Your parents joined in at that as well, and you got to see Donghyuck’s mother and siblings for the first time in years. Which was why you proposed to him the possibility of moving them into a house closer to the palace, or even into the palace that night. Because you knew his relationship with his family was close and sacred to him, and you knew that it had been interrupted by his heavy shifts as a guard and his obligation to stay in the palace. So, you thought it would be convenient for both sides if they lived closer.

Attire fittings for the wedding are always eventful with chitter chatter, some dramatic emotional response from both mothers and fathers as you two stood on platforms with your arms wide open to the sides, the tradition about to-be spouses not seeing each other’s attires until the wedding inapplicable simply because everything has to be perfect at a royal wedding.

Throughout everything, choosing outfits, choosing themes and colors, choosing the venue and sending the invitations, there is always a slight pull at your heart’s strings. The kind of pull where it feels a bit pitiful and hard to breathe. Sometimes your hand lands itself around the area on your chest where your first engagement ring would fall onto, and most times you can stop yourself by saying it is completely unneeded but sometimes you cannot stop it— and sometimes you can see Donghyuck realizing it.

But the hardest is when the wedding day finally comes right after the new year’s, on a bright sunny day without snowfall, which was extremely rare for where you lived. Everything was still and calm outside but not inside, neither inside the venue nor inside your heart and mind.

The reality of getting married gains another dimension when you walk into the venue. At the heart of a town rather far from the palace, the venue does not have the feeling of being far from home with its stone structure, greenery that surrounds it, and its grand scheme. Decorated in royal blue and a bright red that matches the liveliness of the blue, everything looks like how a royal wedding should look. There are golden lights on the walls and dropping from the ceiling that bring the power of the decorations down with their warmness yet somehow also emphasize the importance of everything. The old structure has cracks in which various plants and ivies have made their way in, the sole reason you and Donghyuck had chosen this place. Because you both believed that they symbolized second chances and faith, seeing as these plants had somehow survived the cold and the stones placed on top of the earth, and had been strong enough to crack through and claim this place as their home.

Overall, everything is bright, red and blue and green and golden, and it looks like this is your destiny. And everything including Donghyuck welcomes you, even though there is a road of hurt and imperfection that you still have to walk on.

You are grateful for that feeling.

Yet, suddenly everything feels wrong and out of place when you start the process of getting ready. Not because of Donghyuck and his dear soul that was trying his hardest, but because of yourself. Because your past self that was once in love with a person that did not exist anymore was still looking for a way and time to throw a tantrum about it all. It made sense, somehow, that it was at the most inappropriate moment that it would decide to act up.

The bigger problem is that a lot of people can see how you feel, presumably because you get quieter and inactive. You are extremely distracted from everything that you get so clumsy, tripping all over the place in the old, stone building that had greenery cracking through its a few centuries old material. The people who dress you might as well have been dressing a toy with how nonchalant and flappy your body was.

Despite the obstacles, they get you dressed and taken care of at your room, where you can hear people starting to walk into the venue. At first it is a few greetings between some handfuls of families and people, but it so quickly turns into a sea of undetectable voices that it is almost scary. Everyone sounds excited and happy outside in the hall, and you can hear them dining and conversing on topics that were mostly around you. That was nice after having your name in gossip for quite a long time regarding the espionage and your seemingly amateur ways of ruling, and the ones that suspected a relationship between you and the person you used to love.

Neither side shut the gossips down, but they died down anyways. You had gotten engaged shortly after their surfacing.

At some point people’s voices start to dim down. The wavy ocean turns into a much more still sea with hushed conversations, and it is then that you are able to hear the chants outside.

The happy chants of your people, who had come there to celebrate.

Donghyuck walks in when you get frozen in place, looking at the big, frosted and stained windows as if you could hear the chanting clearer if you did so. From the corner of your eye you see him nod his head slightly to the side and smile, silently ordering people to leave the room to only the two of you.

The ceremony would start soon.

He comes to stand in front of you, and he opens both of his hands, palms looking upright. You look down at them when you notice his moves and let your eyes linger there, not knowing if confidence or hesitance would take over you first.

Not being strong was never an option.

You place your hand in his with a deep exhale, and meet his eyes. Donghyuck smiles at you, as if to say it is alright. It will be okay.

And then he speaks.

“I know I am not the one you would have liked to have here today,” He starts, and that hurts you perhaps with the truth but also with your newfound care for him upon getting engaged, but he does not let you protest. “But I have once sworn to protect you with my life, and I just want you to know that I will continue on with it. And I swear to you— forget the Oath I will take in a matter of minutes now, I swear to you that I will try to be the best I can be for you, for us, for whatever that means from now on, and for our people.”

You smile at him with your first genuine smile of the day when a fresh comfort washes over your heart the same way an angry and fizzy ocean wave washes over the shore, and give his hands a squeeze, holding onto the hopeful future they offer. Thank you.

[simmonsofshield]

Broken, Mended Chapter 6

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic)

Summary: After breaking off an engagement, Y/N may have possibly hit rock bottom. But she doesn’t have time to think about it because she gets deployed to Iraq. Leaving their daughter with her friend, Sam Wilson, she’s gone for a year. She doesn’t like talking about her ex-fiance and is unsure if she’ll ever be able to love again. What happens a certain Captain is his literal doppelganger?

Words: 1800+

Warnings: Takes place in a hospital, but no medical jargon/scenes or anything.

A/N: Starting this chapter, we veer from canon. Or at least there’s no Raft situation. I don’t really know how I would place this parallel to canon, so I’m just not gonna think about it. This is for @ussgallifreyfics​​​ 550 follower writing challenge! Takes place during Civil War.

tag list is open

The steady beeping of the heart monitor is all too familiar. Sam thinks back to when he was sitting in this same exact spot - next to a bed - two years ago when he was waiting for Steve to wake up. 

Doctor Rush comes in and he stands. He looks over at his friend’s body as her chest rises and falls steadily with the beeps of the monitor. 

“Her most recent tests have come back. At this point it’s too hard to tell when or even if she’ll wake up. She fell from quite a height and a lot of damage was done.”

“Do you have any kind of estimate?”

“Nothing accurate. If she wakes up the earliest it would happen is maybe three weeks.”

He slumps back into the chair, “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Does she have any family we can contact?”

He shakes his head, “Only a four year old daughter. She’s staying with a friend and I don’t want to worry the mother quite yet.”

“Okay. I’ll come back with any updates. You’re free to stay until visiting hours are over.”

“Thanks.”

Hours pass but Sam doesn’t even notice. He alternates between sitting beside Y/N, holding her hand and talking to her, and pacing the room. He tries to distract himself by reading the newspaper or looking at his phone, but it doesn’t work. He only can for a couple minutes at a time. Then he’s back at her side.

He blames himself. Even though he doesn’t know why or how she was there. He does know that her wing pack malfunctioned because Vision was aiming for him. Now Rosemary may have to grow up without either of her parents, be put into foster care. And it’s all his fault.

Six weeks later

He wakes up to his phone ringing. Telemarketer or not, what kind of person has the audacity to call him at - he rolls over and looks at the clock - 2:45 in the morning? He throws his arm over to the side table and picks up his phone. About to silence it, he squints at the caller id and almost drops it as he struggles to answer it. It’s from the hospital.

“Hello?”

“Is this Samuel Wilson?”

“Yes.”

“We have a patient here, Y/N L/N, she’s asking for you. This name is also written down as her next of kin. I’m assuming that’s you as well?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Great! Come down if you can. Sorry to call you at this hour.”

 “No problem. Thank you. I’ll head your way.”

He quickly puts on some sweatpants and a tee shirt and tapes a note to his door in the Compound before heading to the elevator. The nurse’s tone wasn’t bad in any way, especially considering that Y/N has been comatose for about six weeks, but it wasn’t objectively good either, and that worries him.

Walking through the kitchen he nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears the refrigerator close. 

“Holy shit.” he turns to see the culprit, “what are you doing up Steve?”

He holds up a glass, “Water. You?”

“Y/N’s awake.”

He smiles, “That’s great!”

Sam smiles softly then jerks his head toward the elevator, “Wanna come with? I could use someone. The nurse said she’s been asking for me, but considering the damage that was done, who knows what she’s gonna be like?”

“Of course, Sam.”

When they arrive at her room, Sam takes a moment and looks at her from outside. She’s smiling, probably having just made a joke with the nurse tending to her. It makes him smile. 

Before he can go in, the doctor catches him. “Ah, Mr. Wilson. It’s nice to see you back here.”

He shakes his hand, “Dr. Rush. How’s she been?”

“It was touch and go for a couple weeks, but she made it through. She’s a fighter.”

“That she is.”

“However, now that she’s awake, we have run into a couple complications.”

His breath hitches, “What kind of complications?”

“Considering her fall, we knew there would be some sort of brain damage, but we didn’t know how severe until she woke up.” Sam nods as he continues, “We’re still unsure of the full severity, but it seems that her memories are a little scattered. What’s good is that she seems to remember you.”

“Yeah, we were in the Air Force together for a couple years.”

“Good, well, thank you for your service. For now, I would recommend that your friend here wait outside while you go in. We don’t want to confuse her.”

He looks over at Steve and nods, “Of course. Thank you Dr. Rush.” They shake hands again and he heads into her room.

Hearing his footsteps she turns and smiles at him, “Sam!” she tries to sit up but a small ow comes out of her mouth and she lays back down. “What happened?”

That was a loaded question. How was he supposed to explain what actually happened if she wasn’t fully coherent? He tries his best, getting to the point as quick as possible, “You were shot down. You tried to get your parachute out in time but didn’t. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Oh,” is all she says. She begins looking around, “Where’s Rose- what’s Ransom doing outside?”

Sam’s eyes go wide at the question as he turns around to see Steve standing across the hallway chatting up some nurse who apparently had just offered him some coffee given the plastic cup now in his hand. Seeing Sam looking at him, he takes it as the okay to come in. Before Sam can shake his head or say anything to Steve, he speaks. “Hey, Y/N, how are you feeling?”

Instead of answering the question, her eyes focus on the cup in his hand, “I don’t remember you being a coffee drinker, Ransom.”

“Ransom?” Steve turns to Sam with a little bit of fear and concern in his eyes, unsure of what to do. Sam looks back at him with close to the same expression. It’s silent for just a couple seconds too long.

“Sammy?” she looks at him, also confused, “is everything alright?”

Always quick on his feet, he give her his signature gap-toothed smile, “Yeah, Y/N. The doctor, Dr. Rush, just said that your memories may be a little scattered. He wasn’t sure if you’d remember - uh, Ransom here,” he claps Steve on the shoulder, “he wanted me to talk with you alone first. Apparently I made quite the impression, because I was the first person you asked for when you woke up.” 

She laughs as good as she can considering the pain she’s in, “You always make an impression Sammy.”

He smiles back at her. “How are you feeling? You want water or anything?”

“Well, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. But I’m good for now, thanks.”

He nods, “I’m gonna take Ransom outside for a second and chat with him. We’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

The two walk out and go down the hall a little bit until they know they’re out of earshot of Y/N. They sit in a couple chairs across from an empty room and look at each other. 

“Shit,” Sam looks down at the floor while Steve takes a sip of the coffee in his hand. “we gotta think of our next move. She has no idea who you are.”

“We could start with telling me who Ransom is?” 

“Right,” Sam pauses while he contemplates, head bobbing while he goes back and forth in his mind.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just..she told me specifically not to tell you.”

“Why-” “But I feel like this is a situation that would cancel that out. At this point, you need to know some things...” Steve sits silently while Sam fights with himself. A few more seconds pass before he makes his decision. “Okay, so the short version is that you look like him.”

“Like Ransom?”

“Almost exactly. Real Black Mirror shit.” Steve raises an eyebrow, to which Sam waves off, “it’s a show.”

“Okay,” Steve shakes his head, “and the long version?”

Sam shrugs, “She hasn’t even told me it. But what I do know is that some shit went down, he got arrested, and she broke up with him. They were engaged.”

“Shit,” he runs his hand through his hair, “and she thinks I’m him.”

“Well, she’s only said like five words to you but it seems like maybe she doesn’t remember leaving him. She might think they’re still engaged...” he sighs and shakes his head, “which I don’t know if that makes this easier or harder for us.”

“Maybe you should start by asking her what she remembers.”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s a good idea.” The pair walk back and Sam enters the room while Steve waits outside in a chair across the hall.

Her head turns at the sound of the door sliding open. “Get everything sorted out?”

He nods as he pulls up a chair beside her. “Yeah, a little. Can you tell me what you remember? You know, since Dr. Rush said that the injuries you endured have caused you to be a little fuzzy...” he trailed off, hoping she’ll take the excuse.

She nods, closing her eyes to help focus. “Um...well, what I know for sure because the nurses ask me like two or three times a day is that it’s June 2016, I’m at MidHudson Regional Hospital in New York, Matthew Ellis is the president, and my name is Y/N L/N,” they both laugh as she continues, “I’m assuming that’s not what you want though. So, I know that you’re Sam Wilson, we were both in the Air Force - that’s how we met - and we both participated in Falcon missions. I have a daughter named Rosemary. I live in Boston with Ransom, we’ve been engaged for three years.”

Sam smiles as she talks, but it fades when she mentions Ransom. How was he going to break all of this to her? And apparently she didn’t remember the fight in Berlin at all or why she even was in the hospital, besides what he told her. 

Y/N notices the change in expression, her brows furrowing together, “Are you sure everything’s alright, Sammy? Where’s Ro?”

He gives a tight-lipped smile as he tries to go through all the plans in his head, “Yeah, yeah, just fine. She’s at a friend’s house. Would you like me to call the mother and bring her here?” she nods and closes her eyes for a moment, “okay, I’ll do that right now. Be right back.” he says softly as he exits the room.

Considering it’s around 5:00 in the morning, Sam is not surprised that Julie doesn’t answer. He leaves a message about Y/N being awake and meeting halfway in Philly later in the day to pick up Rosemary. He walks back into the room to see her peacefully sleeping. He smiles and leaves a note on the side table, letting the nurse know about it so someone could give it to her when she wakes up. He thanks them and him and Steve head back to the compound.

tags:

@cake-writes​​ @supraveng​​ @vxidnik​​ @kallafrench​​ @itsallyscorner​​ @polarcrystall​​ @eliza5616​ @ilovesupersoldiers @ashwarren32​ @itsgonnabe-brian-may

[gingerpeachtae]

Concentric [8.1]

masterlist

Words: 2.6k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: some sad boi times ✊

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: A BIG THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR BEING SO PATIENT AND SENDING IN THE BEST MESSAGES TO REASSURE ME. I WUV YOU. 💜

You sat on the counter and swung your legs as you took another bite out of your apple. You happily munched on the green fruit, savoring the slightly tart flavor as juice dribbled down your fingers onto your wrist. You glanced at Tae out of the corner of your eye. He, too, was eating an apple, although his was deep red in color. “The green ones are too sour for me” he had told you, declining the one you had held out to him. You smiled softly at how he was also swinging his legs. It looked as though he hadn’t got a care in the world. Before today, you might’ve believed that. The thought made your smile falter slightly.

Just don’t ask about it. It might upset him again.

You took a final bite and set the core down next to your thigh, wiping your juicy hands off on your pants. “So, what’s this whole ‘trainee fighting seminar’ thingy gonna be about?”

Tae took a moment to swallow the food in his mouth before replying. “Well, I would assume that it will be a seminar… about fighting… for the trainees.” His blue eyes glinted teasingly.

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

You reached up to tug on his feather earring. “What I meant was what do you think we will be doing?”

“Not my fault you didn’t specify that to begin with!”

“Geez, why do I bother putting up with you?” You chuckled and rolled your eyes while giving the Saeni next to you a nudge, not noticing how he flinched at your words.

“You… you really shouldn’t. I’m not worth it.”

You looked at the Saeni in shock, your chuckle instantly transforming into a choking sound of disbelief. How could he just… say something like that?

Like before, he was avoiding your eyes and began fiddling with his hands. His legs no longer swinging.

Way to go, you dumb bitch. You mentally smacked the hell out of yourself.

“Tae…” you hesitantly began, not wanting to make him feel any worse. “Please don’t say that.”

He clenched his hands into fists and blinked rapidly as if he was trying to keep a handle on his emotions. “Why not? It’s true.”

Your jaw dropped at his absurd statement, but you only paused for a second before you shook your head and pried his closest fist open so that you could thread your fingers through his.

“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, but I will not let you think that about yourself. You’re sweet, caring, funny, loyal, and honestly one of the best people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. You are the person who made me feel comfortable in this new world. You are the person who always keeps me company. You are the person who makes me smile the most these days. You’ve become one of my best friends. Never think that you aren’t worthwhile because you truly, truly are.”

“But I-”

“And if you don’t believe me, I’ll just keep repeating myself in various ways until you do!”

He let out a sad laugh and looked at you, allowing you to view the tears tracking down his unsure face. “You might not have the time to do that. The training semin-”

“Fuck the seminar. This is more important. You’re more important.”

“But-“

“Taehyung is the best! He is so fucking amazing!”

“S-stop!” He stammered out, heat rushing to his face as you screamed about everything that made him so wonderful.

“TAE IS THE BEST ARCHER! HIS SKILLS ARE UNMATCHED! AND HIS FACE!? HANDSOME AS FUCK! THE MOST GORGEOUS MALE IN HIS ENTIRE KEILA! HE-”

He slapped a hand over your mouth with wide eyes, muffling the remainder of your declarations. “Do you want Jin hyung to kill you!?”

You winked at him, happy to see that despite the pain and insecurities still floating behind his eyes, he was at least smiling a bit now. As he removed his hand, you sighed and gently moved the hair that flopped over his headband and into his eyes to the side.

“I’m serious, though, Tae.”

He leaned into your touch and you watched as his bottom lip trembled slightly. Before you could attempt to reassure him again, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

After a few moments, he reopened his lids and in a small voice, said, “You should know. About what they said.”

You didn’t respond verbally, you only nodded to let him know that he had your full attention.

He averted his gaze from you again as he whispered, “‘Rootless.’ ‘Stump.’ They’re slang terms, discriminatory terms, for Saeni who’s draeva have… died.”

With a jolt, you suddenly remembered how silent Tae had gotten when you were learning about draeva marks and how Jungkook had come and put his arm around the older Saeni.

Fucking hell, Tae. I’m so sorry we talked about that in front of you.

“My draeva was a juniper tree…” He smiled faintly at the memory, but it quickly turned melancholic. “It got caught in a forest fire an-” The sobs starting to erupt from deep within him made his throat too chocked up to finish.

“Oh, Tae…” You enclosed the now crying Saeni in your arms and held him as tightly as you could as he clung to you.

The two of you stayed that way for several minutes, providing Tae with as much time as he needed to get the tears out of his system. Finally, he lightened his hold on you and you gave him one more squeeze before leaning back to wipe at his damp cheeks while he cleared his throat.

“Two years ago, there was a really big fire and my draeva didn’t survive.” He took a deep breath to further settle himself. “My connection to the forest was severed and my draeva mark disappeared. I literally felt it being pulled out of my soul. Like it was being uprooted. It hurt… it hurt so much.”

Afterwards, he said that he just went numb. To everything. He could no longer feel the forest and he lost his sense of self. He didn’t know what to do. He said he had felt utterly empty and it only got worse once others found out what had happened. Without his brothers, he didn’t think that he would have been strong enough to overcome the animosity that stemmed from others at his situation. They blamed him for what had happened, stating that he should have protected his draeva as if there was a way to do so against a freaking forest fire.

You heart stung for your friend as he continued, describing how there’s a rune that allows a Saeni to share part of his draeva connection with another, but with a catch. It shortens the giver’s lifespan and decreases their connection to the forest by transferring what is taken to the receiver. All of the boys in the kiela tried to give Tae the rune, but he wouldn’t let them. He said he couldn’t bear the thought of them losing their connections too, even if it was only a little bit. Eventually, after months of begging, Tae was finally convinced to let his dad give him the rune.

You didn’t say anything for a minute, fully digesting everything he had told you while wishing you could go back in time to deck every one of those fuckers from earlier in their nether regions. 

At your silence, his breathing began to quicken, thinking that it meant you thought less of him.

Realizing he was about to become undone again, you quickly, but genuinely, said, “Tae, I don’t care if you have a draeva mark, a rune, or a damn Cheeto tattoo. Whatever happened isn’t going to make me care for you any less.”

“Even… even though I’m not whole anymore?” His voice held a sliver of hope as he awaited your response.

You gave him a warm smile and began prodding and inspecting around his body before starting to tickle him, causing giggles to escape past his lips. “Hmmmm? I don’t see anything missing? What is this ‘not being whole’ blasphemy which you speak of? You look perfect to me.”

His giggles grew louder and louder as he tried to wiggle his body away from you. “Q-quit it! I… c-can’t… breath!” He choked out between his laughter.

You eventually relented and gave the poor boy some relieve. While he steadied his breathing, you located a clean cup from a shelf and filled it up with water from the hollowed-out branch that acted as a faucet. You really weren’t sure where or how the water came out since there didn’t appear to be any plumbing, but you shrugged it off as a magic user’s doing.

You walked back to Tae and handed him the full cup, instructing him to drink at least half. Satisfied when he did as you said, you settled yourself on top of the counter beside him again.

“Thank you, Y/N. For everything… and you’re one of my best friends now too.”

You hummed in acknowledgment and contentment while raising your hands and placing them on his cheeks. Turning his head to face yours, you then proceeded to squish his cheeks together, pulling them upward so that he was grinning chubbily.

“There’s that adorable, boxy smile!”

“Ya!” He swatted your hands away, but you didn’t care because he was smiling for real now. “Just because I did that to you doesn’t mean that you can do it to me, little scorja!”

“I’m pretty sure it does.” You pursed your lips. “Plus, I just like squishing your cheeks. It’s cute.”

“Oh, so you think I’m cute?” He slyly, but in an over-the-top way, inquired.

Good lord, I’m going to get whiplash from how many times his mood shifts today. Not that it isn’t justified, though.

You chortled as you sighed and gave him a pat on his chest. “Honey, you’re literally one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen. So… yeah, you’re cute.”

He made a joyful noise and started swinging his legs again. The endearing action brought an interesting thought to your mind.

“You know, I might’ve started crushing on you if I didn’t already li-” You snapped your mouth shut mid-sentence while your eyes widened in horror as you realized what you’d said.

Of course, you’d let it slip that you liked someone to the biggest gossip head in the kiela. Shit. Shit. Shit! You scrambled to divert the topic, stuttering and completely failing to do so successfully.

Meanwhile as alarms were blasting off in your brain, Tae gasped in shock and observed your panicking form before shrieking, “YOU… YOU LIKE SOMEONE!? WHO!? PLEASE, PRETTY PLEASE TELL ME IT’S KOOKIE. I’VE DREAMT ABOUT YOU TWO TOGETHER, I SWEAR TO ILLAI YOU WOULD BE THE CUTEST COUP-”

It was your turn to smash a hand over a mouth. “It is not that asshat! Also, in regards to your last sentence… what, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck!?”

The Saeni wiggled his dark eyebrows at you and did his best to speak around your hand. “O, com oon, Y/N! Yu don haf ta lie ta mee!”

You groaned in frustration and pulled your hand back. “For the second, and last, time, it is not Jungkook! And please stop dreaming about us. That’s so weird!”

“Ah! You said ‘us!’”

You went to fake throttle the Saeni. “Why you little-”

A sudden outburst of giggles caused you and Tae to spin around. Peeking out from behind the door that led to and from the kitchen was the lilac head of the princess of Illain.

“Sorry to interrupt! I just needed to grab a few things…”

You hastily lowered your hands and stepped away from Tae in an effort to appear somewhat normal. “Oh, um, you’re fine. That conversation was over anyways.” You made a point to glare at the male who only shook his head stubbornly at you.

Jiae laughed at Tae’s reaction, hiding her mouth behind a hand as she moved around the kitchen to place various items into the basket looped around her forearm.

You went to open your mouth but hesitated and closed it. Only to do it yet again. Finally, you just mentally screamed at yourself to just ask already.

“Hey, Jiae? Er, Princecss Jaie?”

“Jiae is fine!”

“Jiae, okay. Um… is Jimin alright? Have you seen him this morning?”

“Jimin?” Her hand paused briefly in its course to grab a loaf of bread. “Oh! You mean Chim! He… he was very upset yesterday. After a while, I was able to calm him down a bit and then we just talked and caught up with each other. He seemed to be in a better mood when he left to go to sleep.”

She hummed to herself and stuffed the bread into the basket. “As for this morning, I’m actually getting all this for a picnic with him!”

Oh…

You hoped she missed the slight wince on your face before you morphed it into a smile. “Well, it’s a beautiful morning. I hope you two have a good time.”

And you did. You really did. Just as Jimin wasn’t your keeper and couldn’t decide things for you, you weren’t his. He was free to do what he wanted. With whom he wanted.

Can’t say it didn’t hurt, though. Knowing that you would never be the one he would want to go on cute picnics with in the early hours of the day. Knowing that you were never going to be person he wanted more with.

But yet, while it hurt to hear, you were almost… glad? It was a reminder that your best friend didn’t return your feelings, and while it wasn’t the most pleasant thought, it was one you probably needed. You had subconsciously gotten hopeful ever since you learnt Jimin’s secret, thinking that you knowing the truth might spark some romantic feelings in your friend. But it hadn’t. And it was time to come to terms with the fact that he will never see you in that way.

You couldn’t even resent Jiae for whatever was going on between her and Jimin. She seemed like a sweet girl and you weren’t going to wrongfully hate her because she may end up “stealing” the guy who wasn’t even yours to begin with. Maybe this, whatever it was between them, was the push you needed to finally and fully accept your forever friend-zoned status. 

You saw Tae give you a questioning look as you gnawed on your lower lip with your teeth, lost in thought. Only when Jiae exclaimed her goodbyes did you snap out of it. You muttered a “bye” and waved as she closed the kitchen door behind her.

“Hmm.” You heard Tae muse beside you.

“Oh, what is it now, you dream creep?”

“Hey! Also, I think I know who it is.” His eyes flickered with pride at his deduction.

You let out a long sigh since it wasn’t exactly hard to pick up what he was referring to. “Yeah, well, it’s time I move on and forget about it. About him in that way. And so should you.” You pointed a finger at the grey-haired Saeni and narrowed your eyes.

He crossed his arms and looked at you defiantly, not intimidated in the slightest. A far cry from how he had been previously this morning.

“Only if that means I can still picture you and Kook together.”

You slowly inhaled and trailed a hand down your face. “Ugh, fine, whatever. Just keep your weird shipping dreams to yourself. Also, when was that training thing starting? We’ve been in here for a while.”

Tae cursed and grabbed your wrist, yanking you down from the counter and making a beeline for the door.

“Aish! Kookie is gonna be so mad if you’re late!”

As you and Tae hurried over to where you needed to be, you wondered what that asshat was doing. You were still curious as to why he had acted so strange before Tae dragged you away to get food. Maybe you would ask him about it later. Regardless, you just prayed that whatever he had signed you up for wouldn’t be the death of you. Both physically and figuratively.

previous [7] — next [8.2]

[cynthiaandsamus]

Game Blondes Crystal Clear Nuzlocke Part 3: A Gooey Situation!

“Hey I’m blonde!”

“…I’m also blonde.”

“AND WE’RE THE GAME BLONDES!!”

“Welcome back to Game Blondes! Last time we got a shiny Eevee, and two, count ‘em TWO badges out of sixteen, though the game’s gonna start scaling up the more badges we get so we gotta be careful not to lose any more pokemon…”

“Don’t worry I’ll be fine, I’ve only lost a rat so far, now that I have something to work with I’ll be able to do stuff a lot easier.” Samus grinned confidently. “Went back to the Professor and got a Togepi (named Sunnyside) which immediately goes in the box, no way am I risking taking a literal newborn on this death journey.”

“Probably a wise choice… don’t want to tempt fate.”

“Well now that I have two badges I guess that qualifies me to operate a squirtbottle… you’re world is weird Cynthia.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well now I’ve annoyed some living trees and gotten Cut from the dude. Guess it’s up the Sprout Tower now, not sure if it’s at all necessary but couldn’t hurt to get up there and see what’s going on.” Samus shrugged. “Oh… apparently they just give you the HM now as soon as you enter if you have the badges… Well is there anything at the top or not!?”

-One Encounter Later-

“YEAH FUCK THAT! It doesn’t count if I reset before anything faints! Nopenopenope I’m out!”

“I don’t think anyone can blame you, the run would just be over now if you didn’t.” Cynthia chuckled.

“…we may or may not come back to that later but more than double my level is not great, should’ve guessed when there was a “are you sure you’re up for the challenge?’ guard at the bottom of the tower… Still I wonder if there’s something good up there to make it worth it…”

“That’s a challenge for another day.” The Champion smiled.

“Well I don’t wanna just go through the game like normal… Even if I can do the badges in any order I still need to walk all the way there, so I don’t wanna just skip through gyms when they’re right there…”

“Why not go fuck around in Kanto for a bit? The train drops you off in Saffron so you can get to most of the region from there and pick badges at random.”

“Good idea! To fuckery!” Samus cheered. “Alright, in Saffron now, whole different country to fuck up with my sequence breaking nonsense.”

“Now that I think about it, it’s probably ironic that a Metroid protagonist is playing the pokemon game where you can sequence break…”

“SPEEDRUNING BABY! FUCK THE INTENDED ORDER!” Samus hummed. “Well most of the houses here are closed but I did get the Psychic TM, gonna teach that to Polly so my starter has a little more firepower.”

“Wonder if Silph Co. is another unstoppable hell gauntlet.“

“They don’t even let me go up… but I got a free Up-Grade for Polly! Okay, next badge I’ll go back to that kid in Goldenrod and evolve her. Might as well go kick Sabrina’s ass while I’m here…”

“HA! The guard in the normal games tells you the Up-Grade can’t be bought anywhere else. But since you can buy it in the department stores here, they added dialogue so he gets upset about not being told it was already in department stores, that’s cute.”

“Good lore for the changes I guess.” Samus snickered.”There’s two gyms but one’s empty, so guess the other’s Sabrina’s.  Well Danny’s in charge here, wiping out these Psychics with a Ghost-type should be easy. See? That Channeler went down easy!”

“…and Danny’s dead.”

RIP Danny the Gastly  Route 31-Saffron City, Lv. 5-Lv. 13

“Eh… I was NOT expecting that guy to have a level 18 Kadabra and I kinda forgot Gastly was a Poison type in addition to a Ghost type… well there goes my whole plan for this gym…”

“You’ll make it through, see? You’re already at Sabrina.”

“Yeah but I feel like she’s gonna be a higher level, I mean one of her minions killed one of my pokemon and I’m down a main teammate and my main strategy, think I’m gonna grind a bit and fill that empty slot before I come back, not taking any chances…”

“Better safe than sorry I guess… even if it is a bit cheap.” Cynthia sighed.

“Let me go back and bury my dead ghost and go out into one of these fields and catch me a new dude. Which way should I go? I can go pretty much anywhere from Saffron… any of the cardinal directions anyway.”

“Well you know what they say, Go West, Young Meowth.”

“…who says that?” Samus grumbled. “West it is then. ..and immediately who the hell is this guy?”

“Oh shit he has a Porygon too! Time for a Mirror Match!”

“Awww yeah, there’s no beating Polly!”

“Oh wow he has a Shiny Togepi too. I mean it’s still an egg baby but it’s a sparkly egg baby.”

“That was surprisingly tough for an egg baby, must be hard-boiled. Still at least it’s not another casualty and he gave me a bunch of money and five level balls. So that’s nice of him, speaking of which this is a new area so I can catch a new pokemon~!”

“Oooh an Abra, good luck with that!”

“Trying out one of those new Level Balls then, here goes nothing!”

“Heck yeah! Since it’s a Psychic that just wants to be left along I’ll name it Mob. Looks like it’s close to evolving too so I may use it for a bit.”

“Well might as well have a look around Celadon while we’re nearby. Erika might be a better fit for your next gym battle since you have a flying type and a few psychic moves that’ll do well against her grass and poison types.”

“Yeah… wait… the game corner here sells the Berserk Gene!? What the hell!?”

“Yeah that’s… strange…” Cynthia quirked a brow. “Rather cheap too…”

“I mean I guess it’s not super useful but still… Weird placement. Those Leftovers might be good to save up for too, but that would require more gambling… Oooh! Heracross!”

“Can I get it? Please Please!?”

“Well I guess Celadon City is a new area, so if it’s the first pokemon you encounter you can get it, sure… but just this once…”

“Whoohoo! Time for a gambling montage!”

-80’s Music-

This is a gambling montage~

Samus is gambling all her money away~

We’re not allowed to show this part in Europe~

She’s Gonna get that Heracross~

This is a gambling montage~

-montage end-

“Well since it’s blue and armored I’ll name her Gravity like my suit, looks like she’ll need a bit of grinding but should be fun to use~”

“Well a couple of training battles in Erika’s gym later and Gravity has a few levels and Hooters evolved into a Noctowl.”

“These levels on these gyms are starting to get high though, I may have to do some grinding… hopefully I’ll be able to beat Erika at least… Still, a little training won’t hurt. This guy says he’ll give me Fly if I can get one more badge, so that’ll really open things up, all the more incentive to grind up for Erika.

“…well fuk it’s a Muk. And it’s like ten levels higher than anything I have.”

“Still, Muk are mostly defensive pokemon and you just have to weaken it, give it a shot.”

“Holy crap I caught it… wasn’t expecting that, guess I have a new teammate… I’ll name it Goo since that’s what it is. Doubt it’ll help much with Erika or Sabrina, but it’s always good to have a big tanky pokemon like that, I’ll think about adding him to the team somewhere…”

“And this is why we carry Antidotes… you were almost in trouble there.”

“Meh I’ll be fine, guess I’ll switch out Shimon the Poliwag for Goo the Muk since he’s my lowest level besides the new Heracross, we’ll see if this pile of sludge comes in handy soon.”

“Holy crap look how weird it looks when Goo follows me.” Samus laughed.

-One Grind Later-

“Okay a little bit of grind and Gravity is up to level with the others and all of Erika’s support trainers are gone, I’ve got Goo and got him an Ice Punch TM, I’ve got a Noctowl, got Polly knowing Psychic and got Gravity being a Bug type, and just in case I’m buying a couple Antidotes so I think we have a decent shot at this battle, here we go!”

“If worse comes to worse you could probably just lean on your overpowered Muk now that it has a move that’s great against Grass types…”

“Well I’m gonna try not to do that if I can help it, let’s start out with Noctowl vs her Tangela! Ha! Even if it puts Hooters to sleep, that Giga Drain does next to nothing against her! That was an easy first KO. Way to pull your weight Hooters! “

“Oooh Bellsprout next huh?”

“That’s part poison right? I’ll try Polly next then and hit it with some Psychic! HA! A one hit KO! Don’t mess with Polly!”

“Another OHKO from Hooters on that Hopip… you’re really tearing through this boss battle. Though to be fair grass-types have a lot of weaknesses to exploit and usually have to use status ailments to keep up.”

“Last pokemon’s Oddish, let’s go Hooters, make this a clean sweep! Well it managed to take two hits but it’s still no match for my awesome owl thing! Great job Hooters!”

“That’s awesome, three badges down, but you realize Sabrina will be even stronger now that you have more badges, right?”

“Crap… Well the Pokemon League called again and basically just told me to go get Fly, since I’m right here I can do that pretty easily, guess we’re set up for that. I can teach it to Hooters as a reward for winning that gym battle.”

“…wow so you can just fly to any city now huh? You don’t have to have visited any of them, guess you can hop around as much as you want now.”

“True, though I’ll probably be in trouble if I just go directly for the badges each time, the walking will help me get more levels too but if I wanna go somewhere I can just drop myself off and see what’s up around there. I can continue that sidequest with Professor Oak at some point too since I can just fly to Pallet Town and see what’s going on, and I feel like I can safely evolve Polly too, which I may do… NEXT TIME ON GAME BLONDES!”

Samus’s Journey So Far (Kanto Side):

Samus’s Current Team:

[letholojimin]

11 (JJK)

STUCK SERIES - PART 11

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Themes: high school au, badboy & fuckboy jungkook

Genre: smut

Word Count: 2,562

Summary: After being labelled the school’s biggest bad boy, Jeon Jungkook chooses to live up to the title. What he doesn’t know is that his arrogance will lead him to you.

SMUT WARNING

DADDY + BABY GIRL KINK

10 | 12 | MASTERLIST

You wake up after spending the night over at Jungkook’s apartment.

Your head is hammering harshly against your skull when you first wake up. There’s no warm body beside you, no arms wrapped around your stomach and for a moment you’re actually grateful- you’d done some pretty wild shit the night before and you weren’t exactly sure how you’d be able to speak to Jungkook now that the both of you are actually sober. You have never gotten tipsy with him around and the first time you do, the night becomes so eventful. You aren’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

When you look towards the nightstand, there’s an Advil waiting for you alongside a glass of water. You smile at the simple yet thoughtful action and you hope you don’t throw up when you see him from the nerves. Come to think of it, he had eaten you out twice but you have never been able to reciprocate in both instances having been too tired. “Fuck,” You mumble as you finally get up, wondering how bad that must have been for him.

Your bare feet pad against the wooden floor and you notice that you’re wearing a simple oversized tee along with some boxer shorts- Jungkook’s clothing. It smells like him. You finally reach the en-suite bathroom and wash your face, tying your hair into a messy bun from a rubber band you found placed on his desk. You gargle and try to make yourself a little bit more presentable by rubbing off the makeup you hadn’t had the chance to remove last night.

Soon enough, you step out of the bedroom and hear faint music from along the hallway. You follow the sound and you’re met with the back of your boyfriend, who’s busy typing away on his phone. Silently, you make your way towards him and hug him from behind. He instantly smiles and places his hands on top of yours, placing a light peck on your jaw. “Good morning, love.”

You barely feel like shit now and it amazes you how wondrous it can be to be in his presence first thing in the morning. It felt so domestic and you were happy- perfectly content with how lazy the day seemed. You whisper your own good morning to him, letting go of him just to sit down on his lap, turning your head over to give him a proper kiss on the lips. He tells you he got you coffee and a donut from the nearest shop and you thank him for both that and the medicine, telling him that you really appreciated his actions.  You take a seat on a stool on the other edge of the counter where you can fully see his face.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t even open his phone after that, placing the device on the counter. He watches you eat intently, but not to the point that would appear creepy or annoying. If you’re honest, you don’t think anything he does will ever be creepy or annoying to you because you’re practically whipped for him. You hope that he feels the same way.

“Where’s Taehyung?” You ask, your raspy voice filling in the silence with the exception of the music playing in the background. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and bet he’s still at Yoongi and Hoseok’s. He parties really hard after all.” With that, you nod and let the topic die. You’re worried that he was going to ignore last night, but after a few minutes he initiates the conversation this time, about to give you an explanation.

“Y/N, about last night…” He reaches over to scratch the back of his head, refusing to meet your eyes. “I know you were tipsy and everything and I also know you haven’t… well…” Jungkook’s voice trails off and you know what he’s about to say. You can also see that he’s beating himself up over having you in that position when you clearly weren’t sober and he’s just gauging if you actually remember what had happened.

“I remember everything, Kook.” You reply casually, taking a sip of your coffee which is no longer warm. You assume you must have been passed out for a longer time than you think, the sun shining high in the sky. “I also was in full control of everything I was doing, so I hope you aren’t worrying or thinking about that too much.”

He looks at you, listening to every word you were saying. “I also knew you were a bit tipsy too, but I don’t think there’s anything to worry about at all,”

“If you ask me, I clearly wanted you and I have no idea how you didn’t fuck me when I was practically at your disposal- waiting for you to do so.” His eyes widen at how blunt you are and he stutters saying his next words.

“I just didn’t know if you were ready, I mean, I didn’t want you to wake up today and think that you made a mistake. I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything.“ He responds, sighing. He’s happy you remember everything but as for the daddy part, he hopes you’ll let that go even though he realizes he does have that kink. Fuck, just thinking about how you called him that turns him on.

You can see the surprise on his face when you get up from your chair and make your way towards him. The look in your eyes changed so drastically over the span of a few seconds. If you didn’t want him to be your first, you surely want it to be him now because of how much he respected you and took care of you, putting you before any of his needs.

“If you weren’t sure if I was ready, I hope you know that I’m ready now. I’m even on the pill.” Your lips latch themselves on the soft spot of his, sucking lightly. Your tongue soothes over the bruise you’re sure will form on his neck. You can hear his voice and feel the vibration of his throat as you continue marking him- “So you like it when I touch you like that?”

You hum in response, and he gets up, pushing you up against the wall near the hallway. A small gasp escapes your throat, Jungkook’s forehead pressed right against yours. His eyes have darkened in shade and you know that there’s no turning back now. “You like it when I push you against a wall?”

Your breath hitches as he stares into your own eyes while waiting for a response. “Yes,” you shakily breathe out and that seems to drive him insane.

“You like knowing I want to fuck you so badly, baby?”

You nod in response, unable to speak at this point. Before you can blink, he’s pushing you back in the direction of his room as he connects your lips, passionately kissing you. You’re melting under his warm touch, unable to think about anything expect him and how good he makes you feel. When you part your lips to catch your breath, he commands you to jump and you do so, locking your legs around his waist. His bulge is directly in front of your core and you feel yourself growing wet from the contact. Soon, you’re in his room and he’s stripping you off of his own shirt, revealing your bare torso to him.

“Fucking gorgeous,” He says before kissing you all over, lingering on certain spots to leave bruises. All you can do it pant, whispering his name over and over again as you continue to be the recipient of his rough lips marking your chest. It isn’t long before he takes off his own shirt and he moves down to your lower region, pushing the boxers he lent you down.

“You were so tight around my fingers the first time I ever touched you and you were still so tight last night, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, mouth moving over to your core. He places his fingers against your clit and coats them in your juices, leaving you needy for more. “I’m a big girl…” You moan, Jungkook’s tongue flat against your entrance. “I can, fuck, I can take it!”

He continues to attack your pussy, trying to get you even wetter to prepare you for him and he seems to be doing a good job because you’re just about soiling the sheets, dripping for him. He spreads your wetness around your entire entrance, slipping his fingers between your folds. You mutter out a string of curses, so frustrated because you feel so empty.

He pushes his bottoms down and for the first time, his length is exposed to you. He’s big and you’re almost scared of how painful you think the process will be but you’re eager too, seeing how hard he is for you. Your mouth waters and you crawl over to him, grazing your hand over his well-defined stomach and you end up holding his cock. You wrap your hand around it, slowly moving up and down and you see him tense at your unexpected movements. “Jesus, Y/N… Keep doing that,” He grunts and you bring your lips down to the head. You place a quick peck on the tip before swirling your tongue over it, making him suddenly buck his hips up. You take one of his balls in your other hand and massage it slowly, wanting to see how he’ll react to it.

“Fucking hell!” He says, knitting his fingers in your hair. “Where did you learn to do this?” His voice comes out in shaky breaths, telling you you must be doing something right. You decide to be a little bit more daring and you take his dick in your mouth, pushing down until tears are brimming your eyes. You hastily get back up, taking a large breath. You repeat the motion as Jungkook’s hips stutter, his eyes rolling to the back of his head from the intense pleasure. This time, you breathe through your nose and look up at him. You bob your head up and down and he makes eye contact with you, sending you an encouraging look.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby girl, fuck, just like that.” You make sure you keep your eyes open and before long, he gently pushes you off him, making you lie down on the bed. He sees the confusion on your face. “I can’t wait any longer,” He says, lining his tip up with your entrance. Before anything, you place a hand on his stomach, reminding him about the condom. “No need, I haven’t fucked anyone bareback.” At his words, you relax, falling back down on the plush bed.

“This might hurt at first so just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” He leans forward to place his forehead on yours for the second time that day, ready to observe your reaction in case it was too painful for you to handle. He finally pushes in, the tip entering your warmth slowly as you will yourself to be strong even though it feels like you’re being torn apart. You try to spread your legs more to allow him more access as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. “You’re so tight, god,”

He pushes in more, almost half of his length in you. At this point, a tear slips out of your eye and he takes one hand off your hips to wipe it, placing a kiss on your lips. “You can do it, Y/N,” He places his mouth on yours once again, trying to distract you as he presses in deeper. He can’t comprehend how well you’re taking him, walls wrapping around him so tightly. A minute later, he’s buried in you fully and you let out a breath you weren’t aware you had been holding. “You’re amazing, I love you,” He groans, and after a moment, you tell him he can start moving. “I love you too,” You reply shyly, blush creeping up to your cheeks. You don’t know If there’s blood or not, and you don’t really care because all you can think about is the discomfort mixed with the happiness his words brought you.

Jungkook obliges, continuing to move gently. He holds you hips and thrusts slowly and deeply. The first few times he does this feels weird but eventually, the pain subsides. It takes another few movements of his hips before you tell him to speed up, his pelvis hitting yours as he moves sharply, cock buried in you to the hilt. Both of you are reduced to a hot, moaning mess as his skin becomes coated in a sheen layer of sweat. “You take my dick so well- shit,”

You move your hips to meet with his before you urge him to give you more, no longer satisfied with the way he’s moving. “Fuck, harder!” You let out a whimper as he struggles to satisfy you with your walls so clenched around him. Your name drops from his lips like a mantra- both of you so far gone in the ecstasy you’re giving each other. “Come on, god, right there-“ You can barely finish your sentence as he hits your g-spot, his thrusts becoming more powerful. You’re so close, so so so close, and if he pushes in further you know it won’t be long before you come undone. Throwing your pride away, you place your mouth beside his earlobe.

“Deeper, daddy.”

Fuck. Jungkook stops moving, a bit taken aback from how you were able to call him that in a sober, more conscious state before he growls, his grip on your hips so tight you’re sure he’ll leave bruises. “You fucking asked for it.”

He slams into you so suddenly, eliciting a loud moan from you as he pushes all the way.. You can feel your walls stretching even more to take him all up and though it was so extreme, you were so wet so he continued to slip right in. His greedy lips meet your skin as his hair becomes beaded with sweat while he marks your collarbone. A hand leaves your side to rub your clit and soon you’re yelling out loud, not caring if any of his neighbors could hear you.

“I’m coming, oh fuck, you fill me up so well,”

Your orgasm hits you like a bus, crashing into you hard. Your back arches off the bed and your toes curl, Jungkook forcing himself to open his eyes just to see you fall apart underneath him. Your grip on his shoulders tighten and you scratch his back before falling back down on the mattress, overwhelmed. Jungkook continues to thrust in you, chasing after his own high which he reaches soon after, cursing and chanting your name.

It takes a few minutes for you two to catch your breath, his body collapsing right beside you. He’s never gone that hard, that fast and that deep before, mind spinning at how good he felt inside you. You were worth the wait, and all he could think about was how on earth he would keep his hands off of you now that he’s already tasted what it’s like to make love to you.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

betchall thought i forgot about updating but here you go finally the fucking

[365tofudays]

SINNERS - Third Sin: Pride

Summary: A story of individuals being human and how their lives are more or less motivated by consciously or unconsciously committing the seven cardinal sins.

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Ontae, Uncertain Onho

A/N: This is unbeta’d work so forgive the mistakes - I tried proofing as much as I can, but I'm pretty sure I didn't catch them all.

1ST SIN, 2ND SIN

AO3

"It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes men as angels." - Saint Augustine

      "Hey, Taem," Jinki greeted. Shit.

      "Where'd you go?" Taemin frowned at his boyfriend.

      "Hey, Minie," Minho said alighting from the car.

      "Minho-hyung?" Understanding dawned.

      "Really, babe?" Taemin asked, giving the older man a reproachful look.

Why am I even asking? Taemin wondered. He had always known Jinki had an unhealthy compulsion to work. One day soon, the older man will drop from exhaustion - again. Which may not be a bad thing, he thought, if it'll force him away from his laptop and mobile.

      "I know, I'm sorry," Jinki apologised with a sheepish smile. "I couldn't resist," Jinki almost bit off his tongue at his choice of words.

      "I offered sex!" Taemin exclaimed, incensed.

      "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! That came out wrong." Jinki upped the wattage of his smile, sliding a look Minho's way. *Please, not in front of company.* "Why are you here though?"

"You've been gone almost three days. I'm pretty sure there's nothing edible in your fridge." Taemin humoured the change of topic. He couldn't care less if they had an audience, but his reserved boyfriend did. He sooo doesn't deserve me.

      "I have leftover chicken," Jinki's eyes wrinkled into charming crescents in gratitude. The warm feeling back in his stomach at the younger man's thoughtfulness.

      "Which you ate tonight," Taemin stated tightly, fighting the melts Jinki's eye-smile induced. "What about breakfast?"

      "Coffee?"

      "You drank the last cup before you left."

      "Oh - wait! You drank the last cup!" Jinki rebutted, taking one of the bags from Taemin.

      "As if! I clearly remember you complaining about needing to grocery shop after emptying the pot into your stupid travel mug."

      "Which you swiped on your way out the door."

Pause.

      "No… That was - "

      "Sorry to interrupt, love birds, but I'll get going now before all this sweetness give me a toothache," Minho interrupted with mock disgust, disguising the genuine note of jealousy in his voice. *Whoa, Choi. You don't have a stake on the man.*

      "Thanks for your time, Jinki. I'll watch out for your email tomorrow."

      "No, problem. Drive safe," Jinki nodded at him, free arm slinging over his boyfriend's shoulders.

      "Bye, hyung!" Taemin waved absent-mindedly, his pout indicating the need to be appeased.

The lack of traffic enabled Minho to speed away from the couple but not from his vaguely bitter feelings. Aren't you being melodramatic? Repeat after me "He's not mine."

      I know!

Knowing he should feel nothing didn't change how he felt when he caught a glimpse of the kissing couple from the rear view mirror.

      Stupid.

      "Mr. Lee? Choi Minho on the other line," Krystal informed Jinki.

      "Patch him through. Thanks."

      "Minho?”

      "Jinki? Hi, just checking if you got the revised contract?"

      "I did. I'm just reviewing the amendments on the contract. Krystal will email you a signed copy as soon as I'm done initializing the changes."

      "Sounds good. I'll forward you the contact information of the project team."

      "Please. We'll need to confirm schedules for the kick-off meeting," Jinki said.

      "Let me know if you need anything else," Minho said automatically. “Otherwise, we'll see you at Pac Rim.”

      Jinki tilted his head at phone after the call ended. The conversation somehow felt off, but he couldn't point out what about it was. He wondered if what happened two weeks ago had anything to do with it. But the architect had never been anything but cordial and professional. Friendly even, with the occasional references to Taemin and future get-to-togethers.

      Jinki gave a mental shrug deciding that it really doesn't matter. Bottom line, Pac Rim was going to be this firm's client and that was all he should care about.

      Across town, Minho stared at the blueprint spread over his drafting table, not realizing he'd been at it a good thirty seconds.

      Since last week, he kept his distance from Taemin and Jinki, ducking dinner and drink invites. He was determined to get over this ridiculous crush and figured time away from Jinki would help.

      "Earth to Choi!" Minho's attention snapped to the project manager who was his next appointment.

      "Everything okay?" Eun Hyuk asked, brushing away the notes and pens littered on top of the blueprint.

      "Yeah, just figuring out how to work this recreation room in the design," Minho said not meeting his eyes.

      Jinki punched the receive button of the intercom distractedly as he reviewed the agenda for the Pac Rim kick off meeting. 

      "Mr. Lee?" Krystal's voice over the intercom interrupted his thoughts.

      "Yes?"

      "A Kim Kibum on the other line. He said it's an emergency."

      Jinki froze. He never thought he would hear that name again.

      "Sir?"

      "Put him through," he said tightly, as Krystal transferred the call. Unsure why he was going to talk to the one person he hated as much as he hated his family.

      "Hello?" a familiar voice greeted over the line. "Jinki?"

      Jinki's hand clenched around the receiver remembering nights of shared heat and whispered dreams.

      "Jinki?"

      "Speaking," he answered tonelessly.

      "Hi," the caller greeted awkwardly. "How have you been -"

      "What do you want, Kibum?" Jinki interrupted.

      Silence stretched over the line, but Jinki waited, unmoved.

      Key sighed at the other end. After what he did, he couldn't expect anything else.

      "I need a favour, Jinki."

      Jinki snorted. *What did he think this call was going to be about?*

      "Of course you do," Jinki said mockingly. "Unfortunately, I'm not in any mood to grant you favours - ever. Good day, Kibum. Don't call again."

      "Jinki wait! Please, listen!" Jinki blinked at the desperation in Kibum's voice.

      "Please, listen. I know you hate me, but you loved my grandmother. Please... I need your help."

      Jinki remembered Kibum's only living relative. A tiny wrinkled woman who worked hard all her life trying to give her only son a good life. Only to be saddled with a grandson before she was in her 50s.

      "I can't find her. I've been trying to get a hold of her for three days and she's not answering," Kibum's voice broke on the last word.

      "I fail to see how any of this concerns me," Jinki cut in, ignoring the twinge of worry he felt. Grandma Kim was in her 80s and suffered from arthritis. She could have fallen and lying injured somewhere.

      "I can't contact anyone from the area. The phone lines must be down," Kibum explained in a rush, before Jinki could tell him to call the other villagers.

      Anxiety was starting to take root as Jinki remembered the snow storm that blew into the region earlier this week. It brought record breaking snowfall that had disrupted train and flight schedules.

      "Don't you have a nurse taking care of her? Why don't you call the agency?" Jinki asked unwilling to give in.

      "I have and they've promised to send someone as soon as possible, but it won't be for another two days," Kibum answered. "I haven't been able to contact anyone who can check the farmhouse."

      "Jesus Christ, Kibum. What is she still doing out in the farmhouse?" Jinki asked angrily. "Never mind, I don't care. Call the cops or the national guard for all I care. Don't bother me again."

      "Jinki, please, gran could be hurt," Kibum pleaded.

      "Maybe you should have thought of that and taken a moment out of your social climbing to make sure your grandmother isn't lying somewhere alone and dying," Jinki bit out frostily before disconnecting the call.

      Jinki had realized that none of this was his problem. He didn't owe Kibum anything. No one would blame him if he forgot the phone call ever happened. But he can't. For whatever slights Kibum made against him, Grandma Kim was blameless.

      Fuck, Jinki swore under his breath, reaching for the phone. Moments later, Krystal walked in pen and paper ready.

      "Postpone my appointments for the next two days - tell them it's a family emergency." Krystal's brows raised before she could control them. She knew more than anyone else that the big boss didn't get along with his family. That was pretty obvious from all the calls he'd told her to reject and the dark cloud that grew in mass whenever he couldn't avoid those phone calls. The inevitable fall out was reminiscent of the snow storm that had recently wrecked havoc across the country; ferocious and freezing.

      "Figure out how to get me into Daegu as soon as possible. I don't care what time I get there," Jinki continued rattling off instructions as he sorted through documents he planned to take with him on the trip.

      "Also, retain the number of the last call I received and have the network team block it," Krystal managed to contain her confusion.

      "Give me a status update on the travel plans ASAP," Jinki ordered, dismissing Krystal with a brief nod, as he dialed Taemin's mobile.

      "Hey babe," Taemin answered cheerfully.       "Hey Taem, how's the new piece coming along?" Jinki asked, making an effort to erase all terseness from his voice.

      "It's coming. I thought I had to scrap this, but it feels different today," Taemin said, dunking his paintbrush into a jar of turpentine. "Slow day at the office?"

      It was pretty rare for Jinki to call him in the middle of a work day. In fact, they rarely had idle conversations over the phone. Taemin liked to think Jinki would rather hold conversations with him face to face.

      "Kind of the reason why I'm calling actually," Jinki started. "Something came up. I won't make it to dinner tonight."

      Taemin swallowed his disappointment and protests. Both would be pointless against the resolve in Jinki's voice.

      "Work?"

      "No. It's a friend... his grandmother might be in trouble. So I'm going to Daegu and check in on her just to make sure she's ok."

      "Daegu? Couldn't you send someone else go to check in on her? I mean someone who's already there." Taemin was perplexed; Jinki wasn't big on altruism. Not to say that he was a heartless jerk, but the big love of his life was his company. No one and nothing will ever come between him and his job. Taemin had accepted this long before their relationship moved past the occasional sex partners phase into the caring-for-each-other territory.

      Taemin knew that his boyfriend was slammed with back to back meetings this week. And this foray into the countryside would definitely cause delays.

      "Grandma Kim is wary of strangers," Jinki hedged. "Look, I'm sorry I'm bailing on you again. But I really have to do this."

      "I'm not heartless Jinki, of course, I get it. Do you want me to pack an overnight bag?"

      "No, Krystal can do that. You don't need to be interrupted over this," Jinki said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Tell you what, if you have an hour to spare, we can have lunch together. I'll tell Krystal to pick you up on her way back."

      Taemin pursed his lips. He hated how Jinki never relied on him. Even for the smallest things, Jinki could never bring himself to ask for help.

      "Ok, let me know if you need any anything," Taemin said in a tight voice.

      "Thanks for understanding, Taem," Jinki said. "I'll make it up to you next time."

      "You better," Taemin joked, trying to lighten the mood, but feeling pathetic at the sound of the dial tone.

      Taemin fought the irrational jealousy for the old woman Jinki was willing to drop everything for. The petty feeling tamped down but not conquered manifested itself with the tightening of his fingers around his mobile. What an ugly feeling.

      With an irritated flick of his wrist, Taemin tossed his mobile on the couch and blankly stared at the canvas he'd been working on. The energetic swirls of colour suddenly looking childish and rather uninspired.

      Sadness and anger provided contrast to his brighter emotions, providing depth with their dark tones. It forced him to appreciate the difference and the polarizing effect.

      Jealousy evoked such an ugly feeling in his work. It had no colour, could not be expressed in colours. At least, he was unable to express it in colour or shape. It was simply a shadow that loomed over him. Dulling his perceptions, blanketing his vision with a grey that obscured his reasons. Rendering all other hues dull and lacklustre.

      Lately, the blanket seemed to have grown in substance. No longer was it a haze that blurred his perceptions, it was starting to take on a opaqueness that made it hard to see what he and Jinki still had.

      Rather, it was hard to see whether Jinki was still facing him. Through the haze, it seemed that he had turned his back. Taemin can't shake the feeling that his opaque vantage point was masking the steps Jinki was taking away from him. And just like before he was helpless against the tide that would take a loved one away from him.

      Taemin stood up in disgust and wandered over the large bay window. Sightlessly surveying the Han river.

      He had lost just about everyone he ever cared for. He had been powerless against the circumstances he had lost his parents and grandmother in. Had been too young and too lost to help his grandfather pull himself together. This time he wasn't a helpless little boy anymore. Nothing and no one was taking Jinki away from him - not even Jink himself, he promised his grim reflection.

[nilsinio85-blog]

The Camino Diaries VI

Today it’s English time again and I will tell you what happened today five years ago on my first Camino.

16/04/2015: The day started well but ended as one of the first bad days on this Camino. Afterwards, it fit of course into the whole picture. Only if you have seen the bottom of the valley, you can appreciate the beauty of the mountain top. While this is a simple truth and I usually prefer to think in such positive ways, I do understand that in the deep valley you often feel like sh** and see no mountain tops at all.

The day started very calm and nicely with a breakfast in the Albergue Parroquial of Estella, a very peaceful place. I started walking at about 8am. Shortly after Estella, there is a little highlight of the Camino Frances: The wine fountain of Bodegas Irache. A local winery next to the way gives pilgrims the chance to taste their product from a tap. I was told that in the morning, you'll be able to get a sip, but later during the day, the tap will be empty. I met Uwe, Richard and Joanna there, had a good sip of the local wine, refilled my bottle with water (left tap wine, right tap water) and Uwe took a photo of me again.

I was in high spirits and the wine made me philosophical. I went on alone and thought: The Camino is like a big metaphor on life itself. You are constantly moving, never very long at one place, yet everywhere at the same time. I had that strange thought for the first time that day. It's related to walking itself as a means of travel: You are not stopping at one place for very long, but in contrast to let's say a long drive, you can still say: I was there (and did not just pass through). So in that sense you are nowhere for very long, yet everywhere at the same time:-) And it's the power of your will, your faith and your own muscles that move you forward. Immersed in such thoughts I cought up to Dieter and shared a few kilometers with him. He was very curious and asked me a lot of questions. I told him my story, but we seperated again and I did not have the time to ask him about his story.

In Villamayor de Monjardin I met the Aussies. By the way: It was a cloudy day with light and medium rain showers. I walked with the Aussies for a few kilometers, but they were too fast for me. So I let them go, walked on alone, humming a little... and made a good few kilometers through the beautiful rural landscape with its fields and vineyards (we came close to the famous wine region of La Rioja).

I met the Aussies again and got into a conversation with Jay, which made me keep up with him. While talking, I did not really notice that I actually walked Jay's pace, which was too fast for me. But I slowly felt my right knee hurting again, which I already felt the day before. So I took a lunch break on my own and let the Aussies go again. I continued and shortly before Los Arcos I saw a woman a few metres ahead of me walking straight on, although a sign pointed to the right. I yelled over to her that she took the wrong way. She was very thankful and we went on together to Los Arcos. It was Nadia from Italy and I had seen her before, but we hadn't had the chance to talk till then. Without me, she might had got lost there in the fields, so I'm sure she remembers that day very well too. A rain shower started and we arrived in Los Arcos in the rain. Nadia stayed there and I should have too, but I sticked to my plan (which turned out to be stupid).

My plan was to walk further than Los Arcos (where most of my pilgrim's family stopped) for two reasons: first, in my list of Albergues I had from the Pilgrim's office in St. Jean I read that in Sansol (only about 5km further) there is an Albergue for 6€ (and I had a bit of budget in 2015). Also, I planned to have a shorter stage to Logrono the next day in order to have an afternoon to explore that city. So I went on towards Sansol/Torres del Rio. The rain shower didn't stop and those remaining 5km felt endless as they were on a boring straight country road. Maybe it was because of the hard tarmac that the pain in my knee got stronger. In Sansol however, where I assumed to find the cheap albergue for 6€, I saw no one on the streets and found out that the Albergue was 10€. I was all wet and my knee really hurt a lot, especially when walking downhill.

I went on to the neighbouring village of Torres del Rio to check the Albergues there. They were 10€ too. I was pretty low in cash again, because my financial tactic was stupid: In order to spend less money, I only withdrew cash when I was out of it. And I thought by spending 6€ a night in Sansol, I could make it to Logrono, where I'd surely find the next ATM (foodwise I still had something from the supermarket in Estella). Anyway, walking further was not an option because of my knee. I checked into “Albergue Casa Mariela” in Torres del Rio but I was angry at myself: Knee pain, rainy weather, little money, ... and worst of all: It was my own fault because I thought I was very clever in choosing a cheaper albergue and walking the extra kilometers that made my knee hurt even more. I was really at a low. The funny thing was: Just as if she knew it somehow, my mum called that night and asked me how I was. Was it the "magic bond" between a mother and her child? Anyway, things started to turn out well: I met Frank and Jonathan in Torres del Rio and a young German couple (Sarah and Flo). We made a beautiful dinner on my camping stove at the edge of the village (they too were younger guys trying to spend not too much money). It was great! When I talked about my knee, Flo gave me a strong Ibuprofen pill (which I kept for harder times). I even found an ATM in that small village to solve my cash problem.

After dinner I started feeling better. I had a beer, wrote my diary, decided to bandage the knee the next day and to be very careful with walks longer than 25km. Also, I overthought my finances and my cash withdrawal tactics. The second part of my plan however (having a short day towards Logrono to spend the afternoon there) proved to work out very well.

[sketchs-trashcan]

Diamond Skies

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Chapter One: The Journey Begins!

Notes: ok I don’t remember exactly how this chapter went so if things seem somewhat forced I’m sorry past me was not a professional writer and present me is not one either am sorry

Present Day

After a week of traveling, we were finally in Alola. The salty tang of the sea was even stronger here than it was in Vermilion City. Once we cleared customs, we went to the town hall of Hau'oli City so that my mom could take care of a few legal things. I wasn't entirely sure what she had to do, but it probably had something to do with us moving from Kanto to Alola. Once that was taken care of, we set out for our new house. It was not in the busy heart of the city, but more in the outskirts. Shortly after we arrived, I went to my new room and fell asleep. Jet lag between the two regions was killer.

I woke up a few hours later, feeling somewhat refreshed. I put on a fresh pair of clothes and stepped into the living room. My mom and Mewy had apparently unpacked some of the boxes that were scattered across the house, so it looked slightly more like a home rather than an empty shell. I went out and joined them on the porch in the moonlight.

"Oh, you're awake," my mom said when she saw me. "Isn't Alola just fantastic? The people are so nice, and the air is fantastic, too! I'm sure the Pokemon here reflect all of this."

I thought the atmosphere was a bit too humid, but I knew better than to say that. "Yeah, I guess the weather's nice. I'm more excited to meet new Pokemon!"

Before she got a chance to reply, someone started knocking at the door. I was confused. Who would be knocking at our door this late at night? We were new here; nobody should know us yet.

We walked back in and saw that the person had let himself in. He was a tall man with tan skin, wearing sweatpants with a lab coat. His hat had Alola's symbol on it, and he was also wearing sporty sunglasses.

The man noticed us, and a huge grin split his face. "Cousin! There you are! Glad to see you made it here in one piece, yeah! Hope the jet lag isn't too bad."

"Kukui! Great to see you again!" my mom said as she hugged the man known as Kukui. "It's been such a long time! I think the last time I saw you was when you took on the Kanto League."

Kukui laughed. "Ah, I remember that! I thought I knew a thing or two about battling, yeah, but those Kanto gym leaders sure did prove me wrong!"

My mom turned to face me. "Alani, this is Kukui, a dear friend of mine. He's the Pokemon Professor here in Alola."

"It's nice to meet you, Professor Kukui," I said.

"Nice to finally meet you, Alani! And, you can just call me Kukui," Kukui said as he extended his hand, which I shook.

"So, Kukui," my mom began, "what brings you here? I thought you weren't going to stop by until tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah, guess I should explain myself, huh?" Kukui said as he rubbed the back of his head. "You see, there's a festival going on in Iki Town, and kids can get their first Pokemon there. Most of 'em are closer to 11, but there are a few older ones, like Alani here." He turned to look at me. "Whaddya say, Alani? Wanna go?"

Unusual excitement bubbled up within me. Ever since I had turned ten, I desperately wanted to go on a journey with Pokemon. I watched the battles of every challenger that dared to face the Indigo Plateau on tv, and each one made me want to be the next person to try and become the Champion. Professor Oak was more than willing to give me a Pokemon, and even encouraged me to go on a journey, but my mom had refused, saying that I was too young to go off on my own. So, instead of setting off and exploring Kanto with my friends, I had to sit and watch as most of them walked off with their new partners, while I remained in school. Now, however, I was 16, and nearly 17, at that. I couldn't wait any longer for my opportunity.

"Yes!"

Thankfully, it didn't take too much for Kukui to convince my mom to let me go, and we soon set off on the path near my house. It was a rather steep hill, teeming with nature all around it. Pokemon I had never seen before would often run and fly around us as we went. Kukui explained to me some of the basics of being a trainer, but I already knew most of it. Back in Kanto, I had always read books on how to be a good trainer so that once the day finally came, I could hit the ground running.

As we approached Iki Town, I could hear music playing and people singing and laughing. The whole town was teeming with life. Kids too young to become trainers were playing tag with other kids as well as Pokemon, and older people were dancing around a stage in the center of town.

"Hmm. That's odd," Kukui thought out loud. "Hala's not here, but everyone's still celebrating, yeah." Kukui tapped me on the shoulder. "Hey, Alani, let's split up and look for Hala. Go check Mahalo Trail. Let's meet up at the stage in about ten minutes, yeah?"

"But Kukui, I don't know wh-" I protested, but Kukui was already out of sight. Steeling my nerves, I started weaving my way through the crowd, looking for something that pointed to Mahalo Trail. I eventually found myself out of the crowd and on a path surrounded by trees going up a hill. It had a mysterious atmosphere to it, and it pulled me farther along the path. I came to a clearing, and in front of me was a girl of about 15 in a white dress, seemingly in distress.

I approached her cautiously. "Hey...is something wrong?" I asked.

The girl whipped around and looked at me with terrified emerald eyes. "Ah...Those Spearow...they're going to hurt Nebby! But, I'm too scared to go out there...my legs feel like they might give out...Please! Help!"

I looked behind her and saw that a small flock of Spearow was harassing something in the middle of the bridge. I took a deep breath. I wasn't the biggest fan of heights, but that Pokemon was in danger, and I couldn't just stand aside and do nothing. Taking cautious steps, I started to make my way across the rickety bridge. Once I was within range, I leapt at Nebby and covered it, trying to fend off the Spearow.

What in the world was I thinking? I thought as they pecked at me. I don't have any Pokemon! This is bad.

Suddenly, a blue light started to emit from Nebby. I looked down to see what was happening, and a huge burst of energy came from it. It drove away the Spearow, but it also blasted the bridge to pieces. Without anything supporting us, Nebby and I began to fall.

Time seemed to slow down. I couldn't grab on to anything that was still firmly attached to the bridge, and the cliffs were too far away to reach. I hugged Nebby, awaiting our inevitable demise at the bottom of the ravine.

But it never came.

Before I knew what was going on, a streak of yellow came shooting at us, saving us from the fall. We were gently placed back at the top of the cliff next to the girl in the white dress. Electricity crackled behind us, and the girl and I turned to see what looked like a Pokemon with a black body and large yellow arms looking at us. It shot off once again, leaving a glimmering stone in its place.

"Was...was that Tapu Koko?" the girl wondered aloud. "It must have been...The tapu must have noticed you and Nebby were falling and decided to save you." She bent down and grabbed the stone, then turned to face me. "Thank you...thank you so much for rescuing Nebby!"

I gave her a shy smile. "It was what anyone would have done. I'm glad to be of help."

Nebby jumped from my arms and began to circle around the girl. She frowned a bit as she watched. "You tried to use your powers again, didn't you, Nebby? You remember what happened the last time you did that! You couldn't move for ages after that!" She shook her head. "No...I shouldn't say that. I'm sorry, Nebby. I know you were trying to save me that time." She smiled at it, then started to speak again, holding the stone out to me. "I think the tapu meant to give this to you."

I wasn't entirely sure about it. After all, if that 'Tapu Koko' was such an important figure, why would it bother to give something that looked so special to a foreigner like me? I was practically a nobody, even back in Kanto! I tried to refuse, but the girl wouldn't take no for an answer. I put the stone in my bag, and after the girl put Nebby in her bag, we started to head back to town.

Once we arrived, we saw Kukui sitting on the edge of the stage. There was an old man next to him, and they were engaging in lively conversation. Once Kukui noticed us walking up to him, he stood up and waved.

"Hey, Alani!" Kukui said. "Turns out the Kahuna had to solve a problem up in Hau'oli, which is why he wasn't here when we arrived, yeah. But it looks like you managed to find my assistant! In case you two haven't properly introduced yourselves yet, Alani, this is Lillie, and Lillie, this is Alani!" He gestured to each of us as he said our names.

"Ah, so you're the Alani I've heard about from Kukui." The old man walked up to us and joined our conversation. "I am Hala, the kahuna of Melemele Island. Welcome to Alola! I've heard you're interested in getting a Pokemon?"

My attention switched instantly from Lillie and Kukui to Hala. "Yes, please!" I said, "I really want to be a Trainer!"

Hala gave a hearty laugh. "Alright, alright. I have three left, so you can have one of them."

With that, he pulled out three Pokeballs and sent out the Pokemon in them. From the one on the left came a beige owl with a leaf bow. The center one was a black and red cat, while the one on the right was a blue seal with a pink nose.

"First is the Grass-type Pokemon, Rowlet!" Hala explained. "Next is the Fire-type Pokemon, Litten! And last is the Water-type Pokemon, Popplio! Which one will you choose as your partner?"

I held my chin in thought. They were all so cute! I wished I could have all of them. Rowlet and Popplio looked up at me with endearing eyes, while Litten played it cool and simply began licking its paw. After a moment of careful thought, I spoke up.

"I...I choose...Rowlet."

"Great choice!" Hala boomed. "Now what is left is to see if Rowlet chooses you. Only when you have both chosen each other can you truly call each other partners."

Following Hala's instructions, I stood on the stage opposite Rowlet. In that moment, it was if there were no sound, no ground, no other people, just me and Rowlet. We gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever, until Rowlet's eyes seemed to smile, and he let out a gentle koo. He ran over to me, and I carefully picked him up.

"So little Rowlet has accepted you, too. Congratulations, Alani!" Hala said, snapping me back to reality. "Rowlet is yours!" He handed me Rowlet's Pokeball, which I happily accepted.

Kukui gave me a firm pat on the back. "You know, some trainers like to give their Pokemon nicknames. Brings them closer together, oh yeah. Are you going to give your Rowlet a nickname?"

"I think so," I said, still looking at Rowlet in my arms. "How about...Pueo?" I was greeted by enthusiastic chirping from Rowlet, now known as Pueo.

"Nice to meet you, Pueo!" Lillie said.

Hala seemed to remember something as Lillie spoke, because his eyebrows went up for a moment. "Ah, before I forget, did something happen while I was gone? For some reason, I thought I saw Tapu Koko flying around."

Lillie nodded. "Oh, um...Yes, Kahuna Hala...Nebby was being attacked by Spearow on the Plank Bridge when this girl, Alani, helped it get away. But the bridge collapsed, and I thought both of them might fall to the bottom of the ravine, and that's when the island's guardian deity swooped in to save them!"

"Woo!" Kukui whistled. "That's not something you hear every day!"

Hala laughed. "Ho! Although it is said to protect us, our Tapu Koko is a rather fickle creature. Yet our guardian was moved to save you."

"Pew!" A little cry was heard at Lillie's feet.

"Oh?" Lillie said in surprise, "When did you get out again? I know that Kahuna Hala and the professor will keep you safe from any harm, but you should still stay in the bag and out of sight. It's safer that way." She shook her head, then looked at me. "I think you chose a wonderful Pokemon. Please take care of it."

Kukui clapped his hands. "That's it, Alani! Now that you've got a Pokemon, you're a real Pokemon Trainer, yeah! And here's a lovely gift from me to help make it special, cousin." With that, he pulled out a red object from his lab coat and handed it to me.

Pueo and I looked at it in wonder. "What is it?" I asked.

"It's a Pokedex!" Kukui explained. "It's a real high-tech kinda tool, yeah, that can automatically record facts about any Pokemon you meet. Try it out on Pueo later! And this," he continued, pulling out a small booklet, "is a Trainer Passport that I had put together for you."

"Thank you...thank you so much, all of you!" I said. I was so happy I could cry. I finally had a Pokemon of my own. I had a Pokedex. I was an official Pokemon Trainer. All of my dreams were coming true.

"How about you go show off your new friend to your mom, Alani?" Kukui suggested.

I nodded, and set off for home. Before I could get far, a kid who looked to be about 15 ran up to me. He was tan with greenish-black hair and was wearing a black shirt and yellow shorts.

"Hey!" the kid shouted. "You and me! Let's have a Pokemon battle!"

Hala walked up to us. "Dahahaha! Where's the fire, boy?" he laughed, "And what kind of a Pokemon battle would that be where you don't even give a name first, eh?"

The kid put his hands behind his head. "Fair enough. Then I'm Hau. And my partner's Tarin, a Popplio!" Hau looked at Pueo, who was perched on my shoulder. "Your Rowlet looks really cool, too! Anyways, I couldn't wait for you to find your way to Iki Town, so I've been all over looking for you so we can battle!"

"Really?" I asked. I never had someone search for me, especially not a stranger.

"Of course!" Hau replied. "It's not often that someone new moves here, and it's always exciting to have a battle with them!"

"Oh yeah, your first battle already!" Kukui grinned. "Just have your Pokemon dish out some moves and see who wins. Woo!"

I bit my lip. Was I really ready for this? Watching others and reading books could only teach so much. What if I failed and my Pokemon got seriously hurt? I looked at Pueo. His eyes were glimmering, anxious to spread his wings in what would probably be his first battle.

"Alright," I said, a smile beginning to form on my face. "I'll do it." A chorus of cheering erupted from Kukui and Hau.

"I appreciate you deciding to battle my grandson," Hala said. "I expect both sides to not hold anything back! Let the battle begin!"

Hau sent Tarin out onto the battlefield, while I sent out Pueo. I was extremely nervous, and I'm sure Pueo was a little bit, too. After all, neither of us had been in a battle before, and we didn't really know what to expect. I decided to pull out my Pokedex to see if it could help me figure out what to do. As I turned it on, it registered Popplio as well as Rowlet. It also showed me what moves Pueo knew.

"Alright, Tarin, use Water Gun!" Hau shouted. His Pokemon prepared the move, and water started shooting out towards Pueo.

"Ah!" I exclaimed. "Um, Pueo, dodge it and use, uh, Leafage!"

Pueo wasn't quite able to dodge the full attack, but he was able to pelt Tarin with leaves from the move I chose. Battling with Pueo was amazing. It felt like if we worked together, there wasn't anything we couldn't do.

The battle wasn't incredibly long, with both Hau's and my Pokemon being relatively weak, but it was still intense. Pueo and I barely managed to win against Tarin and Hau.

"Hooo-ee!" Hau exclaimed as he jumped around. "That gave me chicken skin!" He stopped and walked over to me. "Alani Mahina, right? Your Rowlet was awesome! Here's some prize money for beating me in your first battle." Right after giving me a bit of cash, Hau went right back to jumping. "Now that settles it! I'm going to go all-out tomorrow!"

At that moment, the stone in my bag glimmered. It was bright enough that the people around me noticed it was there.

"Hm? Alani. Would you be so kind as to give me a look at that sparkling stone you have there?" Hala asked. When I gave the stone to him, he began to closely inspect it.

"Could it be?!" he gasped.

"Tutu, isn't that..." Hau spoke up.

Hala looked up at me. "You were rescued by Tapu Koko at the bridge-isn't that what I heard, Alani?"

"Yes," I responded. "Tapu Koko flew in and saved me. When it left, that stone was where it stood."

"I see..." Hala said thoughtfully. "So it even deigned to give you a stone... Perhaps you are here in Alola, Alani, because this is where you are meant to be. Allow me to borrow this stone for now. Fret not! I'll return it to you tomorrow evening." Pocketing the stone, Hala started to talk about my battle against Hau.

"It would seem that you have the makings of a fine Trainer," Hala said as he smiled. "You must do us the honor of joining in our festival tomorrow!"

"It does sound interesting," I replied, "I'll give it a shot."

"Let's make sure you get home safe first," Kukui said. "Lillie, you come with us, too. Wouldn't want to go off losing you twice in one day! You or that precious Pokemon of yours, yeah."

"Alright," Lillie nodded. "I'll be sure to keep track of..."

"Pew!"

"Oh, you!" Lillie chided as she turned to face Nebby. "Don't go trying run off the moment you're told not to!"

Nebby danced around, avoiding Lillie, while the rest of us laughed.

I said goodbye to Kukui and Lillie, and opened the door to my house. Mewy ran over and greeted me and Pueo. The two Pokemon continued looking at each other, starting up what seemed like a very lively conversation.

"Welcome home, Alani!" my mom said from the kitchen. "What kind of Pokemon did you get?"

"I chose a Rowlet," I said as I smiled at Pueo.

"Koo!" Pueo exclaimed, looking up at her.

"Oh, how adorable! So, why did you choose this lil cutie?" my mom asked.

"Well," I began, "it was a tough decision, but in the end, Pueo here looked like the best of the three Pokemon!"

My mom laughed. "Well, I think you made the right decision! You two look great together!"

As we sat down for dinner, I told my mom about the festival. She seemed fairly supportive of it. With that, I went off to bed, eagerly anticipating the next day.