#and it was fun!! and frustrating to craft
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biggest L of lorelune is for sure the diluc fic 😔 oh beloved one day i'll work on you again
#i have never put so much time and effort into a piece of writing in my life#and it was fun!! and frustrating to craft#many nights riffing w cielo and mao to work out the dynamic and plot and details#and sadly :'''^) i started posting it last summer as my life began to hit the fan#and the fic didn't get too much traction which is like? functionally fine#i do not write for notes or anything but it was however a lil disheartening#i got a nasty comment on it right away which also like#really soured things!!#and sadly the horrors nuked my memory#so i can't remember a lot of the finer details of the plot#i'd like revisit it at some point but for now it is a sore spot#lore loops
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Gosh, do I love discovery writing. The freedom. The sense of play. The way you have to hold the material lightly and follow where it leads, never being afraid to scrap things that don't work or to rewrite to emphasize things that do. You have the fun of discovering the story you're writing rather than the frustration of being unable to capture the ideas in your head. This way might wind up taking ages, but it makes the writing process such a joy.
#adventures in writing#i stayed up until i'm-not-going-to-tell-you-how-late finding my way into my inklings story#good news: this process means that i like the story that's taking shape#it's not the story i had in mind#the concept is there but i'm not sure i'm going to be able to work my way to my planned inciting incident#but it's delightful so far#i started the story and spent an hour or more on it#then realized it wasn't working and completely started over#with new names for all the characters and places and a new starting place for the story#new way's working much better but i'm already considering how i can rework some sections and rename some characters#the great thing about this is the freedom that comes from trying something and then trying something else#the bad thing is that when you know every detail could impact which direction you take the story#you spend a lot of time carefully crafting the details#but there's a decent chance you'll completely rewrite the whole section#at least i've learned this part of the process and i'm not going to agonize over the timeline#the opening takes forever but i know once the story gets going the later parts fall into place more easily#anyway this'll likely take more than five days#but at least i'm spending the time writing instead of dithering over an outline for two weeks#and having fun instead of wallowing in frustration and indecision
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I have returned from Ren Faire!
For doublet pictures and a fun story about myself getting serenaded by The Prince, go ahead and click below!
To begin the real beginning of our adventure, my friend @prosebushpatch and I caught the champion’s joust after lunch. We sat by chance on the side of what I assume to be (based off their swaggering and charmingly unsportsmanlike conduct) the side of The Baddies, Sir Edgeron (who I erroneously thought was called Etteron) and Sir Maxmillian whose horse is named Drax. During the second run, I came up with a short verse for them to cheer in the lull. That’s the first domino that led to this chain of events:
You turn to look and then he’s gone
So swift is our sir Edgeron!
And riding just behind on Drax
None other than our noble Max!
After the round was over and the stadium was empty, my friend and I hit up the AMT so I could get cash to buy a flag. On the way to ask, I sang the little song. A member of staff was sitting on the fence, so I went to them to ask where the flag seller had gone. They and I got to talking while two flags were fetched and another man came up, having heard tell that I was a bard. He and the other staff said that I must, I MUST meet the prince as he would love to meet a man of musical talents such as myself.
The older gentleman of unknown but higher rank led me to where the prince was watching a celtic band and dancing. Before there could be any introductions, however, the prince invited us to join in his dance and he taught up a couple styles of jig. I was wearing a crown at the time and it fell off my head, only to be caught last second by a quick bow. It was most impressive. The prince called me a fellow prince throughout all our interactions thereafter, even when I put away my crown.
I spun him under my arm a couple times. It must be said, he has very comfortable hands. Made to be held, really.
So! At the end of the dance the prince asked if Rose were my fair lady. “Fair is she, and a lady, but mine she is not,” I said. Platonic companions, naturally. And he pulls out a dazzling crown pin to present to her for joining the dance; a pin which he only gives to two people in a day! I was very proud, and a bit envious. But not for very long.
Rose and I left to go kill a bit of time before the next part of the tournament. On my way out, I looked back and saw the prince and older gentleman talking, the older gentleman gesturing forward to myself and my friend. We lost them in the crowd. He's a picture of them just before they got to talking:

Eventually, we wound up in the place the feast was held and it was time for a village dance. The whole royal family was there, who would guess? I danced with the older gentleman from before, delighted to see him, and the princess, in the large circle dance. I got the steps quickly enough but always turned the wrong way on the first spin. Got it in the end though.
After the dance, the prince came through the crowd of dancers to find me, having spotted me and my friend in the circle. He asked if the gossip were true and that I was a bard. I gave him my unofficial title, the bard Galanthus, and he introduced me to the queen, leading me to the sort of staging part of the square so to speak. He then requested a song.
“If my prince commands it.”
“No, not a command. Not required, but I do heartily request.”
So I sang him a song from one of my upcoming stories, Buttercups Are Blue. Oh god, if you could have seen his expression! I had never felt my mouth dry up so quickly. I’m only glad I got through the first verse without stumbling, I was so nervous. He was well-cast: extremely charming, friendly, and handsome. Performing is nothing, but singing alone to him? Nerve wracking.
“I must say, I have never been serenaded quite so well!” (I’m so happy to have gotten that line on video):
And then he turned around, whipped out a tiny lute/mandolin thing the size of a ukelele and sang a song for me in Gaelic, then in English. I swear, I didn’t know what to do with my hands and my face was outside of my control. I’m glad he looked more to the camera in the last verse because I was feeling very red by the end of the second song with all the direct eye contact. I was more than a little infatuated by the end of the first dance—I was completely gone by the time he began to sing.
I was very light-headed after that. He introduced me to the jester to gift us another song, and I don’t remember which of them it was that asked, because both of them said something to the effect—but they asked why I was not among the other entertainers, singing for the crowds. I was invited to be the court bard (after the formality of an audition in August, said very quietly out of character lol).
We returned for the final part of the joust and I just couldn’t help looking up at the prince on the balcony between hits. Oh, I know it’s all pretend, but a prince is a prince is a prince! And I had the loveliest day. Thanks for the song, fair prince!

#emmett speaks#my crafts#story time#ren faire#I got Radskier'd lmao#he's so out of my league 💞✨#thank you for the fun memory#tumblr failed to upload this post like three times and I had to go take a nap I was so frustrated#no footage of my singing survived#it was maliciously destroyed by accident when my thumb jabbed the delete button by mistake after carefully cropping the video#alas such is fate ✨💅
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Ohhh now I see... Did I shamelessly copy the color scheme from the icip t-shirt? Yes. Yes I did.
#käärijä#still loving and hating making these#so addictive and so frustrating at the same time#but ultimately fun!#crafts
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getting double whammied by a new crush and a revived old crush all in one night is Wild
anyway
allen the alien from invincible and that one unnamed bar robot from sketchy's contract, my beloved
#waves.txt#crush posting#i'm on ep 4 of invincible I think now?#watching it with my brother... it's good! really enjoying it#allen is silly. i like him.#i have a lot of screenshots of the bots in sketchy's contract#having a crush with little to no lore is So frustrating#BUT I get to craft whatever I want for them#which is fun!
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genuine question but is there any fandom where a character is well written by the majority. im thinking about fandom culture and the spread of frustration when people dont write characters well but. honestly in all the fandoms ive been in there's only like, a Select number of authors who i trust to write Well, let alone write Well AND In Character. character analysis and writing and getting inside characters' heads are all separate skills (all of which are trained by roleplaying fyi can CONFIRM playing pretend with your friends is good for you). there's been more than once where I've disagreed with an interpretation that others agreed with, and then I turned out wrong. or i turned out right. like it doesnt matter WHO is right it just matters that differences in character analysis exist, so even if you DO write well AND write in character, your in character is still going to be someone else's out of character
there's this sort of. vibe. that to play in the sandbox you Need to be able to make a castle, and if you can't make a castle then you shouldn't bother, and it completely dismisses the idea that youre in that sandbox to PLAY in the first place. there's this Weight of disappointing someone if you can't build something that they like, but that forgets that you aren't there to build them a castle. like, be KIND. if you disagree with someone then please make an effort to do so kindly. i dont give a shit about fandom discourse but there is a reason kids get removed from sandboxes if they keep throwing sand in people's eyes. but if they don't like your misshapen sand pile, then youre not obligated to change it. even if you yourself end up hating that same sand pile later- youre not building a legacy. youre playing. and sometimes the result of that play is out of character drivel. theres a reason there are so many authors and so few who i like to consistently read and thats because everyone is Fucking Around in their hobby space. hash tag brag or whatever but i can build castles. ive built several that im v proud of. ive also dug holes in the sand for fun and then tripped on them when trying to get up. I often dug a hole and then got up and fucking- whoops, its a castle now, and i didn't realize i'd made something to be proud of until after the fact. the whole time while creating shit i was Convinced it was bullshit that didn't make sense. and then other times i was Convinced it was bullshit and then i was Right and i can look back and go. huh. ew. but it doesn't matter what the end result was, because i had fun playing in the sandbox
this wasn't meant to turn into a ramble but i have Feelings about bad art and art that's badly perceived and how public perception can screw with your head and how making art youre proud of is fucking. it's so difficult!!! it's hard!! it's really fun, which is why i try to make it, but i promise you it is Okay to not tryhard creativity. even if you CAN, it's okay not to do it all the time. or ever, even. fuck around find out have fun etc
#NOT a discourse post i am musing out loud#there's discourse goign around the dash rn or i wouldnt mention it#but the past few weeks ive seen a lot of “DONT fucking mischaracterize my guy my fuckign god”#which is one of the most frustrating pet peeve there is#but i think a lot too about little baby me#fresh on her writing journey#and how discouraged i would be if someone pointed out the mistakes id made#i made a Lot of fuckups#and i also think about this one fic where one of the characters was INCREDIBLY out of character#me today would not be able to stomach reading it#but baby me was so ENCHANTED#and it introduced to me the concept that you dont always know the reason someone does something#and it made me read even more#and because of that i eventually found Expert Skill level fics#which introduced me to MANY little tricks and fidgets ive tried to implement#there were so so many reviews on that fic that called it shit or complained about the bad characterization#but a decade later i still think about it#there were several very corny mine/craft horror fics i read#which back in the day would be called cringe#and those were what inspired me to write my first horror fic and now im Enchanted by the whole genre#theres a lot of stuff i dont like to read but i like that other people are enjoying themselves#i dont know how to be succinct i hope my point is coming across well#this ties into my thing where fiction is for you first others later#here are my credentials: bb/h fan since before the elections (hi i was the guy who noticed his lack of armour post elections)#and a cross-fandom comment trend of people going 'woa i can see this happening in canon'#im not talking out my ass i genuinely think its more important to have fun than to write accurate characterization#which. is a more 'duh' and clarifying thing than everything else ive written#but ah well c'est la vie#also also just realized this could be interpreted like that- NOT an attack on people who complain about mischaracterization either lmao#i do that too w friends. this is to reassure people who put pressure on themselves to create things Well all the time
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Honestly, every single time the whole 'poppy playtime is a bendy rip-off' stuff ever shows up I find it all extremely unconvincing and silly.
For one thing, rip-off usually is meant to imply that it's a cheap lazy copy of a better more polished thing, and uh. Sorry but even from chapter 1? Poppy Playtime is a better game than Bendy, it has a simple but understandable story, the game manages to be thrilling, creepy, and very intense at times... I mean that Huggy chase in the vents ALONE puts it way above Batim for me.
I mean BATDR had the most slow stupid chase I've ever seen [and every other encounter with the ink demon is text telling u he's there and then a timer goes down and u get jumpscared] and batim's chases were either silly or just not nearly as theatric or terrifying as that.
When making the vent sequence I mean not only is it absolutely horrifying to realize how fast Huggy is in there but also it's so theatric and cool? The fact that you round a corner after thinking you escaped only to see a terrifying animation of that thing crawling toward you is awesome! I wish Bendy had stuff like that!
And all the stuff it shares with Bendy are generic things Bendy ripped from other horror games/media anyways. I'm not saying Poppy Playtime isn't inspired by Bendy I for sure think it is but Bendy is such a generic story that somehow fails to do tropes 100 other horror games have done any comparison only makes Poppy Playtime look better.
"It has employees being sacrificed for their company" That is not a concept Bendy invented, literally look at any of the sci-fi horror series Bendy is very inspired by. This is literally a twist in the original Alien.
"It has a scary woman forcing you to do tasks for her" Once again, not a concept Bendy invented, a scary mysterious person forcing you to do fetch-quests is a concept found in tons of horror media. And at least Poppy Playtime gave you a chase with her and let you defeat her, look at poor malice. She's barely on screen for more than 10 minutes before she gets stabbed.
"It has a cult worshipping the monster" This is something tons of horror games and media have done too. I mean In The Tall Grass has a guy who worships a giant magical rock in the middle of a grass maze, Bioshock [which Bendy has only been taking more and more direct inspiration from while failing to grab any of the compelling parts] also had a lot of themes of religion and cult-ish behavior, almost every horror media franchise has at one point done a cult thing.
Bendy couldn't even come up with a reason Sammy worships the ink demon, the best motivation we've ever gotten is just that 'he's crazzyyyy the ink made him insaneeee'. Who is the cheap rip-off here?
At least Poppy Playtime gave their cultist a motive for worshipping the monster + a proper boss fight that feels intense and looks awesome! Bendy didn't even let you kill Malice [she got stabbed in front of you and then just collapsed on the floor how thrilling] meanwhile you get to kill three of the villains in Poppy Playtime and the gameplay and action in those scenes have only gotten better as the game went on.
I mean Sammy walks into a room and goes "AAA SCARY I'M BEING MURDERED" then later shows up and for NO REASON sees a normal human man and assumes it's the ink demon before once again someone else kills him for you. In Poppy Playtime you defeat Catnap as he floods the world with this horrible nightmare-inducing gas that intensifies the color palette and his design. Fight off versions of him that are illusions that you need your flare gun for, then watch in a wonderful animation as he mistakes the monster for his savior before getting killed by it, in a brutal way I might add, which game are we accusing of being cheap, lazy garbage again?
I just find this argument to be people who Really Really need to find a reason to hate Poppy Playtime which I think is silly. The devs being weird, shady people is already enough reason to dislike the game, you don't need to invent reasons why secretly every part of the game is malicious or bad. But esp when I see Bendy fans saying they don't support Poppy Playtime or dislike it bc of its devs or even saying its cringe ummmm.
I have bad news about the fact Bendy's devs are worse and it took not one, but TWO over an hour long videos to cover it all. Plus the Bendy games are just the worse games in every aspect, if I could sell my batim copy for a copy of Poppy Playtime I wouldn't hesitate at all.
Saying this as a bendy fan, we have no right to be super judgy towards Poppy Playtime. If Poppy Playtime is embarrassing cringe, Bendy is too and is way more embarrassing of an interest. We shouldn't spread misinformation just because we all want to hate Poppy Playtime, you can dislike Poppy Playtime without making up a bunch of nonsense to justify it.
Honestly seeing people just blatantly be unfairly mean to Poppy Playtime only makes its critics look worse and makes it hard to take any backlash to the games seriously. Because surprise surprise if you spread misinformation to make a point people will quickly stop listening to Anything you have to say bc they won't trust you're telling the truth anymore.
#feel free to reblog but Im not gonna tag this its way too rambley at least for my taste to go in the main tags#ramblez#also man can I say I didnt want to make this post super long but theres so many other points I could make in poppys favor#the fact we got to see the hour of joy and it was terrifying we dont even know if joey actually killed anyone anymore#the gameplay itself is more diverse and fun then batim which is a walking simulator that pretends to have fighting n stealth mechanics#at least Poppy n Missys friendship gives u a reason to care for missys safety before shes put in danger#Missy can actually express unlike Boris who sits there looking cute with no proper expressions until he gets yoinked and ur supposed to car#bc he was uh adorable? And therefore you spend an entire chapter tryna get him and get an extremely bad boss fight in return-#also soundtrack wise I like poppys tracks more theyre unique and fun and you can tell which part of the game they come from#bendy has so many dramatic reveal stingers and tracks that are really hard to tell which part of the game they come from#bertrums boss fight has my favorite theme bc its so specifically crafted for him and unique and meanwhile Norman has one of the worst imo#a lot of Bendys soundtrack if I played it for you right now it would be hard to guess where its from bc it all kinda sounds the same#the reveal music for the machine for bendy land for heavenly toys for alices domain all sound the same x_x#its just so frustrating but yeah my point is can we all stop making up new reasons to shit on poppy playtime its just kinda dumb#it feels less like actual criticism and at this point just feels like elaborate justification for cringe culture which I hate#okay thats it bye sorry this is 10 pages long-
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one of my fav things about until my feet bleed and my heart aches is how it worked in and reimagined iconic moments from the show itself, like not that they’re the first person ever to do that ofc not, but i think it works really really well for this fic. i finished it days ago and i’m still thinking about it tbh, all those little moments. the tie pulling, for instance.
#i’m catching up on victuuri fic now#i ac hadn’t read umfb&mha or vic’s pov before#and it’s really stuck out bc i really admire how they crafted the au and how they tied back to the show#the tie pulling reimagined was very. memorable. but i also really liked viktor seeing yuuri skate his routine in moscow#i liked the use of the eros costume#i like the pole dancing being the impetus for vic realising that yuuri might not hate him#instead of being the moment he himself fell in love#there were just so many Ah Ha i recognise that moments and it made reading a lot of fun#as for my feelings about the fics over all i prefer vitya’s pov bc yuuri frustrated me immensely#but i really liked both of them they kept me up all night#yuri on ice#victuuri#fic recs
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in that same vein, i mean it so fr that i do this for fun. writing is a hobby. thirsting over fictional men is the fun reprieve i have away from my deeply independent, corporate grindset. i am here on tumbls and posting my silly little thoughts and words because i have FUN and be silly and share!!!
#idk like#i was gonna write another sentence that was along the lines of#'if it stops being fun i just wanna leave/will leave' but that is historically very untrue#y'all i have stuck around through some SHIT but that's bc i value this space and the people within and the specific flavor of this craft#that we share and participate in#however like#in the process of writing#idk i do not enjoy struggling more than necessary??#like o4o for example had parts that i REALLY struggled to get through them. and i got through them with lots of lovely help from my#beta readers!! but i was propelled toward a finish line that i could see and i knew would be gratifying to reach#with this kaiser fic (which i am frustrated abt and which is why these post will be deleted LMAO)#i do not see an end point#i have the vague shape of an idea because i genuinely think#kaiser is an insane man to write as a lover in the way i typically write men as lovers#and i can't like... shape him in the shape i want him without fucking up his character#and unfort i think his character is very hot and i don't wanna do that#head in hands#it's fine it's FINE#i am just#frustrated LMAO#delete later#in like a second
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as soon as i learn how to write and commit to projects and tell stories at length and finish literally anything it's over for you (i will write this damn angel/demon au.)
#my doc for it is over 3k words not including a lot of my brainstorming that i did here on my blog.#bsdlands is still longer but tbf that shit gave me so much brainrot that i started an account on some presentation making site -#- just so i could make a fancy interactive timeline for it. it was frustrating to use but satisfying to figure out#i won't make anything like it for this au probably but man. imagine.#(^better at brainstorming than actual writing. i am suuuuch an idea guy fr fr)#i'm just very proud of the story i'm crafting there. i don't have an ending yet but imo it's interesting and fun.#and i did write...... some bits........ they're not very good and are written very messily but i did write them.....!#(this post is bait. ask me abt my au. you know you want to. hey. hey. nudges you. ask me abt my au. hey-)#(no pressure ofc uwu <- needs to go to sleep probably. but won't)
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being really bad at drawing is ruining my life rn, im having such bad writers block and cant express myself and i cant draw either and idk what else to try. bro these thoughts are trapped in my head!!!! the ship is sinking!! help!!!!
#syd squeaks#not bad at drawing in like the fun 'do it bad' way like actually bad to where i cannot physically craft what im trying to say#and it is so frustrating
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something difficult about writing/storytelling but only in short disconnected bursts is that writing anything longform is very difficult. there isn't as much time to practice long-term character development or subtlety (implying character instead of immediately clarifying) when its not really meant to go anywhere but a notes app. its a little frustrating...i'd love to do something more longform though. i've considered maybe just doing some short writing scenes in my various original universes a lot recently mostly because i just havent had time to draw anything fancy recently </3 maybe that would be something...
#briefly talked about it with a coworker today bc i mentioned my brother makes music#and she got excited because she paints and she showed me some of her work (beautiful btw!!!)#and said she hopes he pursues music and doesnt get his heart crushed by retail like we do#we still make things but ive been thinking about it...it really is like#i feel like ive had less TIME to make things but ive also developed more interest in my own ideas#and in constructing them on their own terms. its hard to describe and even harder to share because its#not churning out fanart for a response i guess?#i dont know. i do feel more satisfied with what im planning but theres less to share#anyway i promised her i'd show her my art sometime so essentially i have to flee the country now#she does lovely work she paints pictures of pets and it seems so nice. she seems so happy with it!#its like...i love it. im a little jealous of it. i feel so much pressure to Do Something New with my art#try to craft scenes and settings (i think setting is such ann important part of storytelling but i have so much trouble drawing it!)#and try new compositions and poses and just not have everything look the same all the time#its led to a lot of work im proud of but its also hard to create under those expectations...#i wish i could find a niche and settle into it comfortably. i think fun character drawings could be that for me#but its...it frustrates me to post those because it feels like if its easy and i like doing it and how it turns out then im not trying#okay i think im done now. sorry for these rambling introspective posts lately lol im#trying to warm back up to posting so i can use this website again (despite how very very bad it is)...#i want to see my frieeeeeends <//////3 i want to be here without running away <///3
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you know, tears of the kingdom has a LOT of audacity to have me 2 hours in and still in the fucking tutorial world
#mine#totk#oh no it sucks!#maybe it's more fun once this stupid fucking tutorial overworld is done#but right now it's like. aaaaaaallllllll tedium and boring shit#like at least in botw there was a level of free exploration#and if u wanted. u could start doing story shit right away#this shit tho makes me so frustrated i feel like tearing up#and i hate the crafting mechanic.....it's so tedious and imprecise#and it's making me frustrated over and over again realizing#that it's gonna be like. a core part of the game 😬#i hate crafting games..........
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Huh. I actually managed to finish Divinity 2 for once.
#it took me 46 hours? supposedly? and in hindsight i remembered a bunch of shit that i didn't do#didn't manage to finish the devourer-armor (there was a bug in Act 3 so i couldn't get all of the pieces)#forgot about the dwarven-sacrifice area in Act 2. forgot about the sallow-man in Act 3.#pretty sure i also missed out on a bunch of fights along the way bcs i've completely forgotten how to do anything but Act 1#''optimally''. bcs it's been literal years since last i played it this far.#the final battle was also a massive anti-climax bcs... everyone is kind of weak#like. i nearly got a TPK when that ''child'' ambushed me right before. only survived bcs of Comeback-Kid AND Idol-of-Rebirth#so i was a bit wary of the final fight. and then... 2 characters took down dallis in their first turn#and then the other 2 characters took down braccus in THEIR first turn. and that was despite me getting hit with plague in between#so... yeah. it reminded me that my build is actually incredibly OP. but also that armor in this game is so fucking shit.#like. if i'm wearing FULL DIVINE MAX-LEVEL ARMOR and someone can ONE-SHOT ME THROUGH THAT?#then what's the fucking point of having any armor at all? right? except if you survive with a fucking sliver of health?#then suddenly you'll be back to full-health bcs of the inherent health-drain when you murder the shit out of them in retaliation#sooo... yeah. a very anticlimactic fight. and also kind of... meh.#it's fun designing a character. it's fun making up a strong build with synergy.#it's not fun to actually try to roleplay as your character. bcs the game actually kind of railroads you on that part too#(my undead dwarf who hates the queen? met the queen and had 3/4 options to ''be polite'' and a 1/4 option to not care)#(this despite that by the time i met her? i had EVERY REASON to be going ''i know what you're up to - and i'll kill you right now'')#(but noooo. can't allow players to be impolite to the royalty. what if the commoners don't understand their place?)#(not to mention the many ''flavor-text'' RP-exchanges between the player-characters commenting on things)#(where you're options amount to ''torn but positive'' and ''torn but negative'' with very few ''polarized'' options)#(or the fact that a lot of those dialogue-options are semi-randomized so there ARE options and you don't get to pick them)#and it isn't fun to OUTFIT your character. bcs you're either reliant on uniques for your Super-Special-Builds(TM)#or you're reliant on RNG-bullshit to get good gear from the shops (or you use a save-editor to specially craft them manually)#(which is the only reason i could bring myself to play this far along tbh. and even then the RNG is kind of frustrating?)#(bcs the different ''boosts'' are only semi-randomized. it's based on the ''level'' of the boost. and if you want to follow the game's)#(way of doing things? then there's a bunch of very-useful boosts that you can't have. bcs you have to pick only one)#and combat can be either tedious or anticlimactic with very little in-between (since either you one-shot them. or they one-shot you)#and... i'm gonna be real with you here. i understand wholeheartedly why upon finishing this game the first time around?#i just immediately turned around and started playing skyrim again instead. it's just not really a LIVED IN kind of experience you know?
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This is the dumbest thing to get annoyed with, but I saw a PoncleProphet fic a while back where the writer couldn't figure out the logistics of their relationship with Issun being only an inch tall, so they upsized him to 5 inches and that made me, unreasonably, blood-red mad.
If you can't figure out the size difference logistics, then just don't write giant/tiny stuff!
#trash king vents#again I know this is stupid#but it was so frustrating to me#Issun is 1 inch tall it's literally in his name (Issun-Boshi)#you don't get to change that because you're a bad writer#fucking figure it out#and yes there's a difference between ''I'm changing this character aspect just 'cause I think it would be fun''#and ''I'm changing this character aspect because I can't figure out how to write it and refuse to learn''#just write different fucking characters at that point!#if you gave any fucks at all about the characters and the craft you'd fucking figure it out
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prince charming's mismatch

pairing: prince!heeseung x princess!reader
synopsis: you and prince heeseung have been rivals for as long as you can remember. what began as childhood clashes has grown into a deep-seated animosity over the years. but when your sister runs away on her wedding day, you're forced to take her place and marry heeseung—the last person you ever wanted to call your husband.
now bound in an unwanted marriage, you’re faced with navigating the tension between your unresolved hatred and an unexpected attraction. as palace intrigue and looming threats surround you both, you must confront the truth of your feelings. will the bitterness between you tear you apart, or will it ignite something far more powerful?
genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, arranged marriage au
warnings: highly suggestive content!!! kissing, hee and reader are mean at first, insecurities, jealous!hee
note: i've been meaning to write this plot for an year now, im happy with how it turned out! e2l with hee is always soo fun to write. enjoyy
word count: 11.5k
royally yours masterlist | next: jay
if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3
the first time you met prince heeseung, it was at a grand summer garden party hosted by your parents in the palace’s sprawling grounds. you were barely six years old, and he wasn’t much older, yet even then, the air between you crackled with something akin to competition. your governess had dressed you in your finest lace frock, with your hair tied in perfect ribbons, but none of that mattered. you were too busy building a grand sandcastle near the fountain, your little fingers carefully patting the turrets into shape.
that was when heeseung appeared, his shadow falling over your castle like a storm cloud. he crouched beside you without so much as a polite greeting, his royal title apparently excusing his lack of manners. his eyes, sharp for a child, surveyed your handiwork critically.
“that’s not right,” he declared, reaching out to touch one of your towers. “the walls need to be thicker, or it’ll fall.”
you frowned, already bristling at the unsolicited advice. “it’s my castle. i know what i’m doing.”
he smirked, a small, superior thing that made your blood simmer even at that tender age. without asking, he began "fixing" it, his hands too rough as he demolished what you had so carefully crafted.
“stop!” you cried, shoving him back with all the strength your little body could muster. heeseung stumbled, landing awkwardly on the grass, but instead of being chastened, he merely laughed.
“see?” he said, gesturing at the collapsed sandcastle. “i told you it would fall.”
tears of frustration welled in your eyes as you glared at him. “you ruined it! i didn’t ask for your help!”
heeseung stood, dusting off his fine clothes, a boyish smirk still plastered on his face. “you should thank me. i was doing you a favour.”
from that day forward, any time your families met, it was as if an unspoken rule had been established—whenever you were in the same room, you and heeseung would find something to argue about. it didn’t matter if it was who deserved the biggest slice of cake or who could recite their latin conjugations faster; the two of you were constantly at odds.
as the years passed, your mutual disdain only deepened. by the time you were ten, heeseung had already earned a reputation as the golden boy of his kingdom, a future king who excelled in everything he touched. your own accomplishments were always impressive—your parents had ensured you were well-versed in languages, history, and the fine arts—but whenever heeseung was around, it felt as though all your achievements paled in comparison.
“did you hear?” one of your tutors asked one morning as you sat in the drawing room, diligently practising your embroidery. “prince heeseung has been awarded top marks in his studies again. he’s to receive a commendation from the royal academy.”
you didn’t look up, but your needle paused for the briefest of moments. “how wonderful for him,” you muttered, the words heavy with sarcasm.
that evening, at another royal banquet, you couldn’t help but bring up your own accomplishments, eager for even a crumb of recognition.
“i’ve been practising my archery,” you said proudly to the gathered guests, though your eyes couldn’t help but flick toward heeseung, who lounged nearby, looking as regal and aloof as ever. “i managed to hit the bullseye several times this week.”
heeseung glanced up lazily, catching your eye with that familiar, insufferable smirk. “impressive,” he said in a bored tone, “though archery isn’t quite the same as, say, fencing. that requires real skill.”
your fists clenched under the table, your pride wounded by his casual dismissal. but this was the way it always went. no matter what you did, heeseung always found a way to make it seem insignificant, as though he were the sun and you were merely a star dimmed by his brilliance.
by the time you were both teenagers, the animosity between you had grown more complicated, though no less intense. you found yourselves at the same royal gatherings, balls, and court functions, and each time, it was as if the entire room held its breath, waiting to see what you and heeseung would clash over next.
at one particularly grand ball, you had been feeling proud of your debut. you wore a gown of the finest silk, and you’d received more than a few admiring glances from the eligible noblemen in attendance. you were certain this was your night to shine—until heeseung approached.
“you look well enough,” he said, his voice smooth but with an edge that set your teeth on edge. “though i hope you don’t trip during the quadrille like last time.”
your cheeks flushed, remembering all too well the minor misstep you’d taken at a previous ball. “i won’t,” you snapped, glaring at him. “and even if i did, it’s better than fencing yourself into a corner like you did at the tournament last month.”
his smile faltered for just a second, but that was enough to make you feel victorious.
yet, despite the constant barbs, there was something else simmering beneath the surface now—a tension you refused to name. you hated the way your heart raced whenever heeseung was near, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner of a room. and, though you’d never admit it, you hated even more that part of you missed the old days when your squabbles were simple, childish things.
it all changed the day your sister’s engagement to heeseung was announced. the prince who had been your lifelong nemesis was now to become your sister’s husband, the future king of your kingdom. it was a match made for political alliance, but it felt like a betrayal. you had expected more from him—well, not more kindness, but certainly more rebellion. yet, heeseung accepted the engagement with the same cool composure he did everything else.
for the first time in years, he stopped seeking you out, stopped picking those fights you had come to expect. he no longer bothered with sharp remarks or smug smiles. instead, he kept his distance, as though you were beneath his notice.
you told yourself it didn’t matter. after all, what did you care if heeseung ignored you now? he was going to be your brother-in-law, and that was enough reason to keep things civil. and yet, a strange, hollow feeling settled in your chest whenever you saw him and your sister together. he was colder now, more mature, but somehow more distant than ever.
little did you know, your rivalry with prince heeseung was far from over. if anything, it was only just beginning.
the night your world fell apart, it started with a simple knock on your chamber door. the palace had been abuzz with preparations—florists arranging garlands, tailors hemming gowns, and courtiers whispering about the grand union that would strengthen two kingdoms. you had spent the evening rehearsing your duties as maid of honour, biting back any remnants of bitterness that still clung to your feelings about the match. it didn’t matter that you had spent your entire life despising heeseung; your sister loved him, or at least, she was supposed to.
you were preparing to retire, brushing your hair by the dim glow of candlelight, when your sister slipped into the room, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. you’d never seen her look so frantic. your heart sank before she even said a word.
“i’m not going to marry him,” she whispered, wringing her hands in the folds of her silk nightgown. her voice trembled, but it was steady enough for you to know she wasn’t joking.
your heart lurched. “what are you talking about? the wedding is tomorrow!”
her wide eyes darted to the door as if she feared someone might overhear. she leaned in closer, gripping your wrist with trembling fingers. “i can’t marry heeseung,” she said urgently. “i don’t love him. i’m leaving tonight.”
the words hit you like a physical blow. “you’re what?”
“i’m eloping,” she said, her voice firmer now, as if saying it out loud gave her courage. “with lucien.”
lucien. you barely knew the man, a minor noble from another court, but he had charmed your sister quickly. he was handsome and witty, but far beneath her station. you stared at her, disbelief mixing with fury.
“lucien? are you mad? you can’t just abandon your duty for—”
“for love?” she interrupted, her voice rising in defiance. “yes, i can. i won’t be trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who cares nothing for me.”
you swallowed hard, your mind racing. heeseung, distant and cold as he had been with you, had shown no signs of affection for your sister either, but this was bigger than personal feelings. the marriage was political, a union meant to secure alliances, peace, and power. your sister fleeing would bring nothing but chaos.
“you’ll ruin everything,” you whispered, your voice thick with the weight of the consequences. “our families, the kingdoms—this is bigger than you.”
her eyes softened with a mix of guilt and determination. “i know. but i can’t live my life for duty, not like this.” she stood, gathering a small satchel you hadn’t noticed before, already packed and ready for her escape.
“you won’t stop me, will you?” she asked, her gaze pleading.
you wanted to scream, to shake her out of this madness, but your throat tightened. she was your sister. you loved her. and you knew, deep down, that nothing you said would change her mind.
“i should,” you said, your voice quiet, brittle. “but no. i won’t.”
your sister smiled, a fragile, relieved thing, before pulling you into a tight embrace. the hug felt final, like the end of something neither of you could come back from. when she finally let go, you stood frozen in the middle of her room as she slipped out the window and into the night, her footsteps fading into the shadows.
the palace remained blissfully unaware of the catastrophe until morning, when your mother’s scream shattered the early dawn peace.
the palace was in chaos the next morning. servants rushed through the halls, panic etched on their faces as whispers spread like wildfire—the bride had run away. you stayed in your chambers as long as possible, trying to gather your thoughts, your emotions, trying to prepare for the inevitable fallout.
when the summons came from your father, it felt like a death knell. the walk to the throne room felt endless, each step heavier than the last. the moment you stepped through the grand doors, you saw heeseung standing beside your parents. his face was a mask of icy calm, but his eyes…his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, cold and unforgiving.
he didn’t even glance at you as your father spoke.
“your sister has disgraced this family,” your father’s voice boomed, his tone laced with anger and disappointment. “but the marriage cannot be abandoned. the alliance with heeseung’s kingdom is too important.”
you stood still, your stomach churning as you braced for what was coming.
“therefore,” your father continued, his gaze hard as stone, “you will take her place.”
for a moment, the words didn’t register. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. you? marry heeseung? no, it wasn’t possible. you had spent your entire life in a silent war with him. the idea of marrying the man who had been your nemesis since childhood was unthinkable.
your mother’s voice, soft but firm, broke the silence. “the arrangements have already been made. the wedding will proceed as planned. you will become heeseung’s bride.”
“no.” the word slipped from your lips before you could stop it, your heart racing. “i can’t.”
your father’s eyes narrowed, and your mother’s expression hardened with disappointment. “you will do your duty,” your father said coldly. “this is not up for discussion.”
duty. it always came down to that. your entire life, you had been prepared for moments like this, but not this moment. not like this.
finally, you turned to heeseung, desperate for any sign of protest, for him to say something—anything—that would stop this madness. but he was silent. his face remained expressionless, as though none of this affected him. he looked at you as if you were just a piece of the puzzle, another part of the kingdom’s grand design.
“is that all i am to you?” you asked, your voice shaking. “just a replacement? a stand-in for the bride who ran away?”
for the first time, heeseung’s gaze met yours, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—something unreadable, buried deep beneath the coldness. but his words cut through you like ice.
“you’re a princess,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “your role is to serve your kingdom. that’s all that matters.”
a bitter laugh escaped your throat. “you’ve hated me for years, heeseung. and now you expect me to just—what? pretend none of that matters?”
his jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. instead, he turned away, his indifference stinging more than any of the insults you had traded over the years.
your father spoke again, his tone final. “the marriage will happen. prepare yourself.”
the grand hall was suffused with the glow of flickering candles and soft sunlight filtering through stained glass windows. the scent of fresh roses—your sister’s favourite, not yours—hung heavily in the air, mocking the gravity of the moment. you stood at the entrance of the hall, your hands clenched so tightly around the bouquet that your knuckles were white. the murmurs of the courtiers echoed around you, a constant hum of speculation and judgement. no matter how well you carried yourself today, the whispers wouldn’t stop.
the switch of the bride was the scandal of the century, and you were at the centre of it.
ahead of you, heeseung stood tall, his face as unreadable as stone. the same detachment was in his eyes, his expression cool and composed as if this marriage was merely another political manoeuvre for him, another step toward the throne. he didn’t look at you with warmth, or even a hint of care. to him, you weren’t his wife—you were the replacement for the woman who had run away.
you walked down the aisle, every step heavier than the last, the reality of your situation crushing you. heeseung’s gaze was steady as you approached, but it wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at his bride. it was a look of cold calculation, a man who had resigned himself to duty.
when you finally reached him, your heart thudding loudly in your chest, you barely registered the priest's words. the vows—sacred, binding—felt hollow, like a cruel twist of fate. how could you stand here, repeating the words meant for your sister? they weren't meant for you. you were never supposed to be the bride.
heeseung took your hand, and the warmth of his skin was a sharp contrast to the chill that ran down your spine. his grip was firm, not gentle, but not cruel either—just dutiful. he spoke his vows with a steady voice, each word sounding rehearsed, as though they meant nothing to him beyond their formality.
and then it was your turn. you hesitated, the weight of the kingdom on your shoulders, your pulse quickening. your voice trembled slightly as you repeated the vows, feeling the eyes of everyone in the hall on you—expecting you to fulfil your role, to be the perfect princess. you could barely choke out the words, but somehow, you managed. and with every word, you felt the invisible chains of your new life tightening around you.
when the priest finally pronounced you husband and wife, heeseung’s lips brushed yours in the briefest of kisses—so cold and devoid of feeling that it felt more like a business transaction than the union of two people. the cheers of the court erupted around you, but in that moment, the applause sounded like the closing of a cage. you were trapped, bound to him, to this life.
as you turned to leave the altar, heeseung offered his arm, the tension between you palpable. his eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, but there was no warmth there. just that cold, resigned look you had grown accustomed to. you were both playing your roles, just as you had been trained to do your whole lives.
but this wasn’t a game. this was your future, and it felt like a noose tightening around your neck.
the wedding feast had been a blur—a cacophony of forced smiles, hollow congratulations, and polite toasts that masked the underlying tension. you had barely spoken a word to heeseung throughout the entire affair. he hadn’t made any attempt to speak to you either, remaining as distant and composed as ever.
now, as you stood alone in the chambers that were to be yours and heeseung’s, the reality of your new life settled heavily on your chest. the palace chambers were far too quiet, the air thick with the tension that had been building between you and heeseung for years. as you stood in the centre of the room, staring at the enormous bed draped in rich fabrics, it felt like the walls were closing in. the room was elegantly decorated—ornate tapestries hung on the walls, and the grand four-poster bed was fit for a queen. but none of it mattered. the splendour felt like a mockery of the situation you found yourself in. tonight, this room was not a sanctuary but a gilded cage.
your breath caught in your throat as the door creaked open. heeseung entered, his presence commanding even in the subdued candlelight. the tension between you was palpable, stretching like a thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment. his gaze flicked toward you briefly, but he didn’t speak, and the silence that followed was suffocating.
heeseung moved with practised grace, his movements calm and deliberate. he began undoing the buttons on his ceremonial jacket, the fine fabric sliding off his shoulders and landing in a careless heap on the chair by the vanity. you stood frozen, unsure of what to say, what to do. this wasn’t how you had imagined a wedding night would feel—though you had never dreamed this night would be with heeseung, of all people.
his back was to you now, his broad shoulders tense, though he did nothing to betray any emotion. you could feel the distance between you both, even though he was just across the room. heeseung had always been composed, guarded, but tonight, his coldness cut even deeper than usual.
he finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “it’s late. you should rest.” there was no affection in his tone, just the same sense of duty that had hung over the entire day. you weren’t his bride by choice, and he wasn’t your husband by desire.
you bit back a bitter laugh. rest? as if you could simply close your eyes and pretend this was normal. pretend that this marriage was something other than a trap. “is that it, then?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended. “we go to bed and pretend everything is fine?”
heeseung turned to face you, his expression as unreadable as ever. he didn’t answer right away, as if weighing his response carefully. “what do you want me to say?” his tone was measured, but there was an edge to it, a hint of frustration that matched your own.
“i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. i wasn’t supposed to marry you.”
something flickered in heeseung’s eyes, though it disappeared as quickly as it came. he regarded you for a moment, his gaze unreadable, before he spoke again. “do you think i wanted this?” his words were quiet but laced with a bitterness that surprised you. “i didn’t ask for this any more than you did.”
you swallowed, feeling a lump rise in your throat. you hadn’t expected this admission from him, hadn’t expected him to show any vulnerability. “then what are we supposed to do?” your voice was softer now, the anger ebbing away, replaced by uncertainty. “how are we supposed to live like this?”
heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair, a rare moment of frustration breaking through his calm facade. “we do what’s expected of us,” he said, though there was a heaviness to his words, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “we fulfill our duties. that’s all we can do.”
“duties.” the word tasted bitter on your tongue. it had always come down to that, hadn’t it? duty to the crown, to the kingdom, to your family. and now, duty to heeseung.
the silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable. heeseung turned away, moving toward the window where the heavy drapes framed the view of the darkened palace gardens. his silhouette was stark against the faint glow of moonlight, his posture stiff, almost defensive.
after a long moment, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. “i’ll sleep over there.” he gestured to the chaise near the window, a fine piece of furniture that now seemed woefully out of place in this awkward, tension-filled room. “you can have the bed.”
you blinked, surprised by his offer. it was the last thing you expected from him, but it was a relief nonetheless. “you don’t have to—”
“i’m not doing this for you,” he interrupted, his voice firm, but not unkind. “i just don’t want to make this any more difficult than it already is.”
with that, he moved toward the chaise, gathering a pillow and blanket from the wardrobe. his actions were efficient, almost mechanical, as if he had already resigned himself to this fate. he didn’t look at you as he arranged the blanket over the chaise.
you stood there, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, awkwardness, and something else, something heavier that you couldn’t quite place. this was your wedding night, but it was nothing like you had ever imagined. there was no closeness, no warmth—just two people bound together by obligation and circumstance.
finally, you moved toward the bed, the thick carpets muffling your steps. the soft fabric of your gown felt heavy as you climbed beneath the covers, though they provided no comfort. you lay there, staring up at the intricate canopy above, your mind racing. this bed, this room—none of it felt like yours.
heeseung settled on the chaise, his back to you, the distance between you both feeling vast despite the small room. the silence was oppressive, each second dragging on longer than the last. you wondered if he was as uneasy as you were, or if he had already steeled himself to this new reality.
for a long while, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint rustling of fabric as you shifted beneath the covers. the weight of the day, of the vows, of your new title, pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.
finally, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “heeseung,” you whispered, unsure if you even wanted him to respond.
he didn’t turn, but his voice was low and steady when he answered. “what?”
you hesitated, searching for the right words. “do you think... do you think this will ever get easier?”
there was a long pause before he responded, his voice quiet, almost resigned. “i don’t know.”
and with that, the conversation ended. heeseung remained silent, his back still turned to you, and you knew there was nothing more to say. you turned onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you, though they offered little warmth. the room felt too big, too empty, despite his presence.
eventually, exhaustion crept in, dulling the sharp edges of your thoughts. but even as sleep began to claim you, a cold, sinking feeling settled in your chest. this was your life now—bound to a man you barely knew, a man who had been your enemy for years, and yet, somehow, your husband.
and as you drifted off into uneasy sleep, the last thought that crossed your mind was how strange it felt to be lying just feet away from heeseung, yet feeling as though he was a world away.
the morning after the wedding dawned cold and gray, mirroring the lingering tension between you and heeseung. you woke up in the large, empty bed, the space next to you untouched, a stark reminder of the distance that had been established on your wedding night. the air in the room felt thick, suffocating, as if the very walls were pressing in on you, reminding you of your new reality.
as you sat up, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings only worsened the tightness in your chest. this was your new life. not just this bed, but this room, this palace—heeseung’s palace—and you would share it with a man who barely spoke to you, who looked at you with that same cold distance he had always shown.
you dressed quickly, your movements mechanical, trying not to think too much. the maids moved around you silently, well-trained and efficient, but you could feel their eyes on you. it was impossible to escape the fact that everyone knew. the entire kingdom knew the story—the princess who had run away, and her sister forced to take her place. the whispers would never stop.
when you finally made your way downstairs to the grand dining room, heeseung was already seated at the long table, a plate of food in front of him. he didn’t look up when you entered, simply continued cutting into his meal with precise, practised movements. you hesitated for a moment, then took your seat across from him.
the silence was unbearable.
you picked at your food, barely tasting it, glancing at heeseung from time to time. his expression was as unreadable as ever, his attention focused on the papers beside his plate—likely matters of the kingdom that required his attention. he was already immersed in his duties, the weight of his impending kingship pressing down on him just as heavily as your new role as his wife weighed on you.
finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. “do you plan to ignore me for the rest of our lives?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.
heeseung didn’t look up immediately, taking his time to finish his bite and set down his utensils with deliberate care. when he finally met your gaze, his expression was cool, detached. “i’m not ignoring you.”
you scoffed, unable to hide your frustration. “you’ve barely spoken to me since the wedding.”
he raised an eyebrow, his tone as calm as ever. “what would you like me to say?”
the question took you off guard. you hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. you opened your mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to respond. what did you want him to say? that he regretted everything as much as you did? that he hated this arrangement, too? or perhaps you wanted him to acknowledge the years of bitterness between you, to admit that this marriage was a farce.
instead, you said, “we’re married now, heeseung. we have to live together. we can’t keep pretending the other doesn’t exist.”
his jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. “i’m aware of that.”
you waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. the silence stretched on once again, thicker than before, suffocating in its awkwardness. you pushed your plate away, no longer interested in eating. “fine,” you muttered under your breath, standing abruptly. “i suppose i’ll just get used to it, then.”
you turned to leave, but his voice stopped you. “you don’t have to like this any more than i do, but we have responsibilities now.”
you paused, your back to him, your hands clenched at your sides. “responsibilities,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. it seemed like that was all your life had ever been reduced to—duty, obligation, and responsibilities.
without another word, you left the dining room, the heavy doors closing behind you with a soft thud. you could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on you even more as you walked through the halls of the palace, each step echoing in the vast emptiness. you weren’t just trapped in this marriage—you were trapped in this life.
days passed, and though you and heeseung were forced to share the same space, your interactions remained minimal, stilted. in the mornings, you would find him already at the breakfast table, poring over documents and barely acknowledging your presence. he would spend his days attending council meetings and handling matters of state, leaving you to navigate the palace on your own, feeling more like a guest in your own home than its mistress.
at night, he would retire to the chambers late, often when you were already lying in bed, pretending to sleep. he would quietly take his place on the chaise near the window, far enough away to avoid any awkwardness, but close enough that his presence was a constant reminder of the divide between you.
it was during these nights that the loneliness settled in most heavily. the silence of the room, broken only by the occasional rustling of fabric or the soft crackle of the fireplace, was suffocating. you had grown accustomed to sleeping alone, but now, knowing heeseung was just a few feet away, the distance between you felt almost unbearable. there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to bridge the gap.
one evening, after yet another day of awkward meals and tense silences, you found yourself in the library, one of the few places in the palace where you felt at peace. the vast room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, their spines worn and familiar. you had always loved to read, finding solace in the stories and histories of others when your own life felt too overwhelming.
you were seated by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a soft glow over the pages of your book, when the door creaked open. you looked up, surprised to see heeseung standing in the doorway. he paused for a moment, as if uncertain whether to enter or leave, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you.
“may i join you?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.
you blinked, caught off guard by his request. this was the first time he had sought you out since the wedding, and the suddenness of it left you momentarily speechless. you nodded, unsure of what else to do. “of course.”
heeseung crossed the room, moving with his usual grace, and took a seat in the armchair opposite you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the library enveloping you both. he seemed content to sit in silence, his gaze wandering to the bookshelves that lined the walls.
finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “this is... one of the quieter rooms.”
you raised an eyebrow, a small, incredulous smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “it’s a library, heeseung. of course it’s quiet.”
to your surprise, he chuckled softly, though it was a dry, humourless sound. “fair enough.”
silence fell again, but this time it wasn’t as suffocating. there was something almost... peaceful about it, the weight of your shared presence not as unbearable as it had been before. you watched him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how tired he looked. the weight of his responsibilities was evident in the slight furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders sagged ever so slightly.
after a while, you set your book down on your lap, deciding to break the silence. “it must be difficult,” you said quietly. “taking on so much.”
heeseung didn’t answer right away, his gaze still focused on the shelves, but eventually, he nodded. “it is.”
you hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, softer this time. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, you know.”
he turned to look at you then, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something softer than the cold indifference you had grown accustomed to.
“and what would you suggest?” he asked, his voice quiet but not unkind.
“i don’t know,” you admitted. “but we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”
heeseung’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. it wasn’t much, but it was the first step—however small—toward something more than just forced cohabitation.
the shift in your relationship came faster than you expected. it started with a challenge—a reckless, unspoken dare that neither of you could resist.
it had been a clear, crisp day, the first after several weeks of rain. you were restless, tired of the palace walls and the constant burden of your new role. you had gone to the stables, hoping to take one of the horses out for a ride, needing to feel the wind in your hair and the ground beneath you. but when you arrived, heeseung was already there, adjusting the reins of his own horse.
you paused in the doorway, surprised to see him. “you ride?”
he glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “you sound surprised.”
“i am,” you admitted. “i’ve never seen you ride before.”
he chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and you couldn’t resist rising to it. “care to prove it?” you asked, moving toward your own horse.
heeseung’s smirk widened. “what do you have in mind?”
you mounted your horse swiftly, the thrill of the challenge already coursing through your veins. “a race.”
heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “you think you can beat me?”
“i know i can,” you shot back, turning your horse toward the open field beyond the stables.
without another word, you spurred your horse into motion, not waiting for his response. behind you, you heard heeseung’s laughter, low and rich, before the sound of hooves thundering against the ground told you he had accepted the challenge.
you raced through the fields, the wind whipping through your hair, the thrill of the chase making your heart race. heeseung was right behind you, and you could feel the tension building, the competitive edge between you sparking like fire. it was like being children again, challenging each other at every turn, pushing each other to the limit.
but this time, it was different. the stakes were higher, the tension thicker, and the way heeseung looked at you when he finally caught up to you sent a shiver down your spine.
when he finally pulled his horse beside yours, you were both breathless, your faces flushed with adrenaline. you glanced over at him, and the look in his eyes—intense, dark, heated—made your pulse quicken.
“not bad,” he said, his voice low, rough around the edges.
you smirked, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “you almost kept up.”
heeseung leaned in just slightly, his gaze locking with yours. “almost?” he murmured, his voice sending a jolt through you.
you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. the space between you was too close, the air charged with something you weren’t quite ready to name. his eyes lingered on your lips for just a moment too long, and you could feel the heat of his presence, the tension that had always existed between you now manifesting in a way that was far more dangerous.
before either of you could say anything, heeseung pulled back, his smirk returning as if nothing had happened. “we’ll call it a draw,” he said, though there was a teasing edge to his voice.
you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, shaking your head with a laugh. “you wish.”
but as you rode back to the palace, the tension between you remained, simmering beneath the surface. it was no longer the resentment of old enemies, but something far more complex, far more dangerous. and for the first time, you found yourself wondering what would happen if that tension ever boiled over.
later that night, the air was thick with the remnants of the day’s energy. you couldn’t sleep, your mind still racing from the ride and the way heeseung had looked at you—how close he had come, how your heart had nearly betrayed you in that moment of suspended anticipation.
you wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly, your footsteps soft against the marble floors. the palace at night was a different place, quiet and still, the shadows long and heavy. it felt like a place where secrets lingered in every corner, where the walls whispered of things that could never be said aloud.
as you passed by the study, you noticed the faint glow of light beneath the door. curiosity piqued, you pushed the door open just enough to peek inside. heeseung was there, seated at the desk, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight. he was reading, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips slightly parted as he focused on the page in front of him.
you hesitated, but before you could turn away, he looked up, catching sight of you. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. then, without breaking eye contact, heeseung set the book aside.
“couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, intimate in the quiet of the room.
you shook your head, stepping into the room. “no. you?”
heeseung’s gaze flicked over you, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin heat under his scrutiny. “i’ve been thinking,” he said, his tone soft but laced with that same dangerous tension that had been building all day.
“about what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved closer, drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
heeseung’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. “about you,” he said quietly. “about us.”
the weight of his words settled in the space between you, thick and intoxicating. about you. about us. it echoed in your mind, stirring something deep within you that you had tried to ignore for far too long. you weren’t sure if it was the late hour, the dim candlelight, or the fact that you had been dancing around each other for weeks now, but something inside you snapped.
your breath hitched as you looked at him, his eyes dark and full of something you couldn’t quite name. but it was there—undeniable, pulsing in the space between you. and now that it had been spoken into existence, you couldn’t unsee it.
“what about us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. it was a challenge.
heeseung’s gaze flicked to your lips, and the tension in the room intensified, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like the air itself might shatter from the pressure. he stood slowly, his movements deliberate, and took a step toward you, closing the already-small distance between you.
“there’s always been something between us,” he said, his voice low, rough. his eyes never left yours, burning with intensity. “even when we hated each other.”
your heart was pounding now, so loud you were sure he could hear it. you wanted to deny it, to tell him that he was wrong, that it had always been pure hatred. but that would’ve been a lie. you knew it as well as he did—whatever had always been there between you, it had never been simple.
“and what is it now?” you asked, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even though every instinct told you to look away. to run.
heeseung took another step closer, his hand reaching up slowly, as though giving you the chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. his fingers brushed against your cheek, the touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine. his hand lingered there, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.
“maybe we’ve been fighting the wrong battle,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. the warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, and you felt your pulse quicken.
your throat tightened. every word he said felt like a dangerous line, one that you were teetering on the edge of crossing. the tension between you had always been a fire—burning too hot, too fast. and now, it felt like it was about to consume you both.
heeseung’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and your breath caught in your throat. his touch was tentative, as though he wasn’t quite sure if this was real or if you would pull away at any moment.
but you didn’t.
instead, you took a step closer, closing the gap completely. the air between you was charged, thick with unspoken desire and the weight of all the years you had spent fighting against each other. your body was betraying you, leaning into him, drawn by a force you had denied for too long.
heeseung’s eyes darkened as he leaned in, his lips barely an inch from yours, the heat between you almost unbearable now. you could feel the tension in every muscle, the way his hand trembled slightly as it cupped your cheek, the way your own body was responding without your permission.
then, in a breathless moment that felt like it stretched on forever, he closed the distance.
his lips pressed against yours—soft at first, testing, as though he wasn’t sure you would let him. but the moment your lips met his, something ignited between you. the kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for so long. it was a clash of emotions—anger, desire, need—all colliding in that single moment.
you responded instantly, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. the kiss was rough, almost desperate, as though you were both trying to make up for years of missed chances in that single moment.
his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you gasped against his lips at the feeling of his body pressed so close to yours. the intensity of it was overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. you didn’t want to think. you just wanted to feel.
but then, as quickly as it started, heeseung pulled back, his breathing ragged, his forehead resting against yours. his hands still gripped your waist, holding you in place as though he couldn’t quite let go yet.
“this isn’t... what i expected,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his breath was warm against your skin, and his eyes searched yours, as though he was looking for an answer in your gaze.
you swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. “what did you expect?” you asked softly, your fingers still tangled in his hair.
heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened for a moment, his eyes darkening once again. “i didn’t expect you to feel this way.” his voice was low, almost a growl, filled with the same intensity that had been building between you all night.
you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. you had no idea what to say, no idea how to explain the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you. all you knew was that everything had changed in that kiss.
“i don’t know what i feel,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible in the heavy silence of the room.
heeseung’s lips twitched into a small, almost sad smile. “neither do i.” he stepped back, finally breaking the physical contact between you, and you immediately missed the warmth of his body against yours.
“but whatever this is... it’s dangerous,” he continued, his eyes locked on yours, as though warning you. “we’ve always been enemies. we don’t know how to be anything else.”
you felt a lump form in your throat at his words, because deep down, you knew he was right. but that didn’t stop the ache in your chest, the desire for something more—for the possibility of what could be.
“i don’t want to be your enemy anymore,” you said softly, the confession surprising even you.
heeseung’s eyes widened slightly at your words, his expression unreadable. for a moment, you thought he might say something—might admit that he didn’t want to be your enemy either. but then, he shook his head, the walls between you coming back up, brick by brick.
“this doesn’t change anything,” he said quietly, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.
and with that, he turned and left the room, leaving you standing there in the soft glow of candlelight, your heart pounding and your mind reeling from the kiss that had shifted the entire balance between you.
as the door closed softly behind him, you exhaled a shaky breath, your fingers brushing your lips where his had been moments before.
everything had changed.
the royal court was buzzing with tension, and for once, the tension wasn’t between you and heeseung. the kingdom was on edge, not from war or rebellion, but from something far more insidious—political manoeuvring. rival noble houses were plotting against heeseung’s rule, questioning his right to ascend to the throne, especially after the sudden marriage to you. the whispers had grown louder over the past few weeks, the courtiers’ gazes sharper, waiting for the first misstep.
you had known court life would be full of power plays and alliances, but this was different. it was personal. every snide comment, every hushed conversation behind closed doors, felt like an attack on your marriage, on your family’s legacy. and worst of all, it felt like an attack on you.
one afternoon, as you made your way through the palace corridors, you overheard a group of nobles—close to your family—voicing their displeasure over your sudden marriage to heeseung. it was the same old song—how your sister should have been the bride, how you were never meant for this role, how heeseung marrying you was a strategic disaster.
you felt your blood run cold, but you kept walking, your head held high. you had grown used to these remarks, but today, they stung deeper. not because they questioned your worth, but because they reflected the deep-seated insecurity you had always carried.
that night, you found yourself alone in the study, staring out the window at the darkening sky. the weight of the court’s judgement, the impossible standards, the constant comparisons to your sister—they were suffocating. and then there was heeseung, whose coldness had thawed just enough to show you glimpses of something deeper, something real. but he was still heeseung—your husband, your childhood rival, and now the man who held your future in his hands.
the door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was him. you had grown attuned to his presence, the way the air shifted whenever he entered a room.
“what’s wrong?” his voice was quieter than usual, but still carrying that edge of command. he always knew when something was off, as if he could sense the turmoil swirling inside you.
you didn’t answer immediately, your gaze fixed on the stars outside. “they’re saying we’re not suited for each other,” you murmured, finally turning to face him. “that i’m not fit to be queen. that you made a mistake.”
heeseung’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in that familiar way, but this time, it wasn’t directed at you.
“let them talk,” he said flatly. “they’re just waiting for us to fail.”
“and what if they’re right?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, the fear and doubt bubbling to the surface. “i was never meant to marry you. this isn’t the life i was prepared for.”
heeseung stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then, to your surprise, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“i didn’t choose you because you were an easy choice,” he said, his voice low but intense. “i chose you because you’re stronger than you realise.”
you blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his words. heeseung wasn’t one to offer praise lightly, and hearing it now, in this moment, felt more intimate than anything he had ever said to you before.
“there are plenty of people who want to see us fail,” he continued, his grip tightening slightly. “but they don’t matter. what matters is that we don’t give them the satisfaction. we fight together.”
the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you saw beyond the cold exterior he had always shown you. there was something deeper there, something raw and unspoken. a partnership.
but the closeness also brought something else—a heat that had always been there between you, simmering beneath the surface. his hands lingered on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above your collarbone, and suddenly the room felt smaller, the air thicker.
“you think i’m strong?” you asked, your voice quieter now, tinged with something more vulnerable. something real.
heeseung’s gaze flicked down to your lips, just for a moment, before returning to your eyes. his voice was rough when he spoke, low and filled with an unspoken promise. “i’ve always known.”
the charged air between you was impossible to ignore now. his fingers slid from your shoulders to your arms, the touch sending a jolt of warmth through you. it wasn’t just the weight of responsibility pressing down on you—it was him, his closeness, the undeniable pull you had both been dancing around for weeks.
you could feel the tension in every inch of your body, your heart racing as heeseung’s hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer, but still leaving just enough space for doubt. he hesitated, as if waiting for you to push him away, to remind him of the enmity that had defined your relationship for so long.
but you didn’t. instead, you leaned into him, your hands tentatively reaching up to rest on his chest. the fabric of his shirt was soft under your fingers, but beneath it, you could feel the steady beat of his heart, as rapid as your own.
“maybe i’ve been wrong about you,” you whispered, your breath hitching as the tension between you reached a breaking point.
heeseung’s eyes darkened at your words, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “maybe you have,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. but there was something softer there too, something almost tender.
before you could talk yourself out of it, you closed the distance between you and kissed him.
the kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced—fierce, desperate, and full of the years of unresolved tension between you. it was as if all the walls you had built around yourselves were crumbling in an instant, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable attraction that had always simmered beneath the surface.
heeseung responded instantly, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.
it was overwhelming, the intensity of the moment, the way your bodies seemed to fit perfectly together, the way every touch sent a shockwave of desire coursing through you. you had spent so long fighting him, fighting this, and now, as his hands slid up your back, holding you close, you wondered why you had ever resisted.
when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. heeseung’s grip on your waist didn’t loosen, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat as wild as your own.
“we can’t keep pretending,” you whispered, your voice shaky, your lips still tingling from the kiss.
heeseung’s eyes met yours, the vulnerability and uncertainty in his gaze mirroring your own. “no, we can’t,” he agreed, his voice rough with emotion.
for a moment, the world hung in the balance. you had crossed a line, and there was no going back. everything between you had shifted, and the question now wasn’t whether you would move forward—it was how.
heeseung’s thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch so tender it nearly broke you. “we’re in this together,” he said softly, the weight of his words heavy with meaning.
this time, there was no need to say anything more. you both understood what had changed between you, even if neither of you was ready to fully admit it. and though the path ahead was uncertain, you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t facing it alone anymore.
weeks passed, and with each passing day, things between you and heeseung slowly shifted. the cold, sharp walls that had once kept you apart were crumbling, revealing a warmth and understanding that neither of you had anticipated. where there had once been biting words and icy glares, there was now laughter, quiet conversations, and small gestures of affection.
the palace felt different. it was lighter now, with the growing sense of partnership between you and heeseung. your bickering had been replaced with genuine care, and though the wounds of the past hadn't fully healed, you were both learning to forgive. but it wasn’t just the emotional connection that was shifting—there was something deeper brewing beneath the surface. unspoken feelings, simmering tension.
it wasn’t until a grand banquet in honour of a visiting prince from a neighbouring kingdom that these feelings came to a head. you stood at the centre of the ballroom, dressed in a gown that glimmered under the candlelight. it hugged your figure perfectly, catching the attention of more than just heeseung. the prince—prince seojun—had been particularly charming throughout the evening, his eyes lingering on you a little too long, his compliments a little too bold.
“you are by far the most captivating presence in this room, your highness,” seojun murmured, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “if i had known such beauty awaited me here, i would have visited sooner.”
you laughed politely, glancing over your shoulder, searching for heeseung in the crowd. he was across the room, deep in conversation with some nobles, but even from the distance, you could feel his gaze on you, sharp and intense.
seojun continued, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned closer. “perhaps we could steal a moment away from the crowd? i would love to know more about the woman behind such an enchanting smile.”
before you could respond, a sudden shift in the air caught your attention. heeseung appeared at your side, his posture tense, his expression a mix of barely contained irritation and something else—something more possessive.
“princess,” heeseung’s voice was smooth, but there was a dangerous edge to it. his hand slid around your waist, pulling you firmly against his side. the claim was unmistakable. “i believe your dance card is full for the evening.”
seojun’s smirk faltered slightly as he glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension. heeseung’s eyes never left the prince, cold and unyielding.
“of course,” seojun replied, raising his hands in mock surrender. “i wouldn’t dream of overstepping. after all,” his gaze flickered to you, then back to heeseung, “she’s your wife.”
the words hung in the air for a moment, charged with unspoken meaning. seojun bowed slightly, a smirk still playing on his lips, before taking his leave. but even as he walked away, you could feel the lingering weight of his gaze.
you turned to heeseung, about to make a light-hearted remark about the interaction, but the look on his face stopped you. his eyes were dark, his jaw clenched, and his grip on your waist was firm—almost possessive.
“did he touch you?” heeseung asked, his voice low and tight.
you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his tone. “barely,” you replied, trying to play it off with a soft laugh. “why? are you jealous?”
his eyes flickered with something dangerous as he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “you’re my wife. i don’t like other men thinking they can take what’s mine.”
your heart skipped a beat at his words. the possessiveness in his tone, the way his body pressed protectively against yours—it was unlike anything you had ever experienced with heeseung. you had always seen him as cold, distant, but this... this was different. there was fire in his eyes, and you could feel it burning between you, a tension that neither of you had acknowledged until now.
“and what if i enjoy a little attention now and then?” you teased, testing the boundaries, wanting to see how far he would go.
heeseung’s eyes darkened even more, and in one swift motion, he pulled you even closer, his hand cupping the back of your neck as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “i don’t care how many men look at you, but remember this—” his voice dropped, sending shivers down your spine, “you belong to me and i belong to you.”
a thrill ran through you at his words, and for a moment, you were speechless, your mind spinning from the intensity of his claim. the ballroom, the crowd, even prince seojun—all of it faded away as heeseung’s gaze held you captive. you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the possessiveness in his touch, and for the first time, you realised that this wasn’t just some marriage of convenience anymore.
heeseung cared—more than he was willing to admit.
your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the emotions flickering behind them. “and what about you, heeseung?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “do you want me to be yours?”
his eyes softened for just a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “you already are,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “and i’m not letting you forget it.”
the banquet had left the air between you and heeseung charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. his possessiveness, the fierce look in his eyes when he claimed you as his wife in front of prince seojun, had stirred something inside you—something that had been simmering for far too long.
as the last of the guests departed and the palace quieted down for the night, the tension remained, lingering like an unspoken promise. heeseung walked beside you in silence as you both made your way through the dimly lit corridors toward your chambers. though no words passed between you, the air was thick with anticipation, the unspoken pull between you stronger than ever.
when you reached your shared chambers, heeseung opened the door for you, his gaze never leaving you as you stepped inside. you could feel his eyes on you, burning with a need that matched your own. the soft glow of the candlelight cast long shadows across the room, but all you could focus on was the man standing behind you, his presence overwhelming.
you moved toward the vanity, fingers trembling slightly as you began to remove your jewellery. you were acutely aware of heeseung standing behind you, the weight of his gaze almost tangible as he watched your every movement. his silence spoke volumes, filled with desire and unspoken emotions that neither of you had fully confronted until now.
the tension was unbearable. finally, unable to stand the silence any longer, you glanced at him through the reflection in the mirror, your voice soft but steady. “you’ve been quiet,” you murmured, meeting his intense gaze. “what’s on your mind?”
he didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush against the bare skin of your shoulder. the touch was light, tentative, but it sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers lingered, tracing the delicate curve of your shoulder before he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck.
“i didn’t like how he looked at you,” heeseung finally admitted, his voice low and rough with suppressed emotion. his eyes met yours in the mirror, dark with jealousy and something more—something deeper. “or the way he made you laugh.”
your heart raced at the possessiveness in his tone. you turned to face him, taking in the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes blazed with something primal. his emotions were raw, laid bare before you in a way that heeseung had never allowed himself to show before.
“it was harmless,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your voice softening. “but i can’t say i minded the way you stepped in.”
his gaze darkened, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. you could feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, the hard lines of his frame pressing against your softness. his eyes locked onto yours, filled with unspoken desire, but also with something more—something tender.
“i’m not the kind of man who likes to share,” he said, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “especially not when it comes to you.”
your breath hitched at his words, your pulse quickening as the fire between you flared even hotter. you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at his possessive tone, the way his hands gripped you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.
“and what are you going to do about it?” you whispered, your voice daring, testing the boundaries as your lips brushed his, teasingly close but not quite touching.
heeseung’s response was immediate. his lips crashed against yours, fierce and hungry, as if he had been holding back for far too long. the kiss was searing, filled with all the emotions you had both kept hidden. his hands roamed over your body, possessive yet tender, as though he was staking his claim but also worshipping every inch of you.
you responded just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. the tension between you, the unspoken desire, it all poured out in that kiss, in the way his body pressed against yours with a need that matched your own.
heeseung’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you toward the bed. the air between you was electric, charged with desire and the intensity of emotions that neither of you had allowed to surface until now. he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race.
for a moment, he paused, his fingers brushing over your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just passed between you. his eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability behind them—the raw emotion that he had been hiding behind his cold exterior for so long.
“are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky but laced with care, as if he was giving you one last chance to pull away, to stop this before it went too far.
you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with the overwhelming emotions coursing through you. heeseung, the man you had once considered your rival, your enemy, was now looking at you with a tenderness that took your breath away. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek.
“i’m sure,” you whispered, pulling him down into another kiss, softer this time, but no less filled with the emotions swirling between you.
what followed was slow, deliberate, and filled with a tenderness that you had never expected from heeseung. his hands moved over your body with care, as though he was savouring every touch, every breath. the fierceness from earlier softened into something more intimate, more meaningful, as he explored you with reverence, his lips following the path of his hands.
your name fell from his lips like a prayer, whispered against your skin in the quiet moments between kisses. heeseung’s touch was both possessive and gentle, as though he was claiming you but also offering himself to you in return. the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, but it was the tenderness in his gaze, the softness of his touch, that made your heart ache with something deeper than mere desire.
and as the night stretched on, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, you realised that this wasn’t just about passion—it was about the connection you had been fighting against for so long. the rivalry, the bickering, the walls you had both built between you—it all crumbled away, leaving only the raw truth of what you felt for one another.
when it was over, you lay beside each other, your breathing heavy, your bodies tangled in the sheets. the room was quiet now, the only sound was the soft rustle of the fabric and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth.
heeseung turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. his eyes, once so cold and guarded, were warm now, filled with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.
you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. it was comforting, grounding you in the quiet aftermath of everything that had just passed between you. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, soothing and gentle, as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.
neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. the silence was filled with a sense of peace, of contentment that neither of you had known before. heeseung’s touch was soft now, filled with care as he held you close, his body warm and protective against yours.
and in that quiet, intimate moment, you realised something: this was more than just passion, more than just desire. it was something real, something lasting.
heeseung’s hand continued to trace gentle patterns on your back, his lips brushing your temple as he whispered softly, “are you alright?”
you smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with warmth at the tenderness in his voice. “more than alright,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him.
heeseung let out a soft sigh, his arms tightening around you as if he never wanted to let go. and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the weight of the past finally lifted, leaving only the warmth of the present and the promise of a future you were both ready to embrace.
the next morning, you woke to find heeseung already up, standing by the window of your shared chambers, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of the early morning light. he looked deep in thought, his expression pensive as he gazed out over the kingdom.
quietly, you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he stiffened for a moment at the contact but quickly relaxed, his hands covering yours as he let out a soft sigh.
“you’re up early,” you murmured, resting your cheek against his back.
“i couldn’t sleep,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “i was thinking about everything that’s changed.”
you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “a lot has changed, hasn’t it?”
heeseung turned in your arms, his expression soft as he looked down at you. “i never thought this would work,” he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “but i’m glad i was wrong.”
you gazed up at him, your heart swelling with warmth. the man standing before you was the same heeseung you had known all your life, but now, you saw him for who he truly was—not your enemy, not your rival, but your partner. your husband.
“i’m glad too,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips.
and in that moment, you knew that this was your new beginning. the past, with all its bitterness and tension, was behind you. what lay ahead was a future you hadn’t expected but one you were ready to embrace—together.
as heeseung pulled you into a gentle kiss, the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful. your marriage, once forged out of obligation and resentment, had grown into something real, something lasting.
and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realised that sometimes, the best love stories were the ones you never saw coming.
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#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen fics#enhypen x reader#heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung x reader#heeseung imagines#heeseung fics#heeseung oneshots#kpop fics#enhypen royal au
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