#and then I think a fluffy epilogue to make up for all this angst

[hypnagogics]

how soon is now? | part two

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previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later 

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not. 

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual. 

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.  

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now. 

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up. 

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks. 

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her. 

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with. 

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.” 

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile. 

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.” 

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face. 

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.” 

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register. 

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals. 

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed. 

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could. 

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow. 

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience. 

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies. 

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future. 

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard. 

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone. 

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission. 

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as  well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself. 

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course. 

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire. 

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder. 

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything. 

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be? 

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because. 

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now. 

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil. 

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?” 

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?” 

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point. 

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over. 

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often. 

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously. 

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her. 

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment. 

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now. 

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.” 

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.” 

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time. 

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed. 

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever. 

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz. 

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[miabebe]

The Legend of The Sea

"You're crying? You must be turning human, the MerFolk don't cry."

"Of course we do. Why do you think the Sea is nothing but salt?"

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol × reader Genre: Heavy Angst, Romance, Implied smut Word count: 14K (completed) A/N: This was supposed to be a very long fic with lots of dialogue and lot of plot but I decided to take a turn and write a shorter version! It's very different from my usual writing style, it would be great to receive your thoughts and comments! I'm considering writing a epilogue if the response is good :) Tags: @xcynthiaaa @dr3aluv5 @unlikelysublimekryptonite @orcasandtea @letsplayitcool @idubutily

It all started the day you woke up on the beach with that unbearable pain searing through you.  

The air was cool, the sand was hot; the seagulls were flying across the blue sky, the sound of the waves was like a beautiful melody – it was like a perfectly painted picture. It should have felt pleasant, it should have felt serene, instead you felt immense pain, like your guts were turning inside out and your chest was being split into two.

And it just wouldn’t stop. Even if you thrashed about in the sand or let out soundless screams clutching your chest, nothing could make the pain stop.  

Except the soft laughter.  

Someone else was here. 

As the pain ebbed at the sound of a voice, fear came rushing in its place.  

Someone else was here.   

Your instincts told you to hide so you did, scrambling to your knees in the sand, crouching behind one of the many large boulders scattered around, trying your best not to be found. And to not let curiosity get the better of you….. until it eventually did.

You allowed yourself to peak, just a little, just to put a face to the voice and instead saw a bouncing fluffy cloud of white. Strange. You didn’t know clouds came down like that. Or that they had eyes, because suddenly, this one looked right at you.

You immediately retreated back into your hiding but it was in vain - within seconds, it made its way over and much to your surprise, jumped right into your lap, covering you in wet, eager licks. You panicked, trying to defend yourself, although it didn’t feel like much of an attack.  

And that was when you saw him.  

First, he was just a silhouette, a dark outline against the sun but when he crouched down to meet your eye, you realised he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. He had such pretty hazel eyes, lighter in the middle, darker on the outside. Then there were the thick, dark eyebrows and thicker darker hair, swept back by the wind. He was wearing a white dress shirt, the first two buttons (unnecessarily) undone, the sleeves (needlessly) pushed up to his elbow. But your eyes were stuck on his lips – red, full of life and moving – he was saying something.   

You can’t hear him, not with the way your stomach was turning and turning and turning and then unable to hold back, you gave in. You turned and doubled up, finally throwing up all that discomfort into the sand, breaking into a fit of cough. The man before you though, wasn’t fazed. Rather, he was efficient, quickly getting up, pulling you away from the mess gently and handed you the bottle of water he had on him. You refused - water was only making you more nauseous.

He didn’t insist, instead he unfolded a large piece of cloth, (later you learnt that it was called a picnic blanket) and threw it over you. It was only its warmth that you realised – unlike him, every bit of your skin was exposed. You held the fabric closer to yourself hoping you could just bury yourself in the sand instead of having to face him – something about the way he looked at you made you feel very vulnerable.  

He then asked if you were feeling okay but only received silence as an answer. The truth was, you weren’t. Not only were you in the middle of nowhere, you had no idea why or how you got there. It seemed like he understood that; like he realised you were lost and needed help. When he got up and held his hand out though, you didn’t take it. Instead, you took support of the boulder behind you and got up on your own, only to lose your footing and stumble right into his arms. You instantly pulled yourself away and took another faltering step and then another, and then fell right back into his arms again. He was amused but didn’t say or do anything except watch you try, ankles sinking in the sand, knees unfaithfully giving away every time, until finally you gave up and took his hand. Slowly and silently, he led you far away from there.  

That day you learnt his name was SeungCheol.  

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That white cloud, Kkuma, was apparently what humans called a dog.  

While humans efficiently seemed to walk on two legs and could converse for hours, dogs apparently walked on four legs and couldn’t talk. Though you certainly looked like a human, you often wondered if you and Kkuma were the same. You too happened to find long hours of walking and talking difficult and more than anything, you didn’t seem to enjoy the company of other humans that much. That’s why the last one month, you spent most of your time with Kkuma, far away from most people, all the way across the town, in a small settlement between the lake and the mountains, in Seungcheol’s cottage.  

Seungcheol’s home was your safe haven. Rather, Seungcheol was your safe haven.  

When you were with him, when you looked at him, you always forgot that it had been four weeks and you still had no idea who you were, that you had no memories, you had no life.  

Because Seungcheol gave you a life. He taught you to walk the way you saw mothers hold the hands of their little babies, encouraging them to take a step forward. He taught you to read, scribbling away alphabets with you for hours on end, even when little children laughed at you for not understanding. He taught you that a fork was not the same thing as a comb and that water was used to wash yourself, and that fire was hot and burnt things.

He didn’t just teach you things, he cared for you. He noticed you liked the red and filled your wardrobe with red dresses. When you told him you really liked the taste of fish, fish was all he cooked for weeks. Though he never seemed to like being away from Kkuma, his little princess, he would always leave her behind to give you company whenever he left. 

Seungcheol left the house every morning at the break of down. So did most men, you noticed. The lady who lived down the stone pathway told you that men went out to make money while their wives, who stayed at home, cooked for them. That day you tried to cook for the first time, and asked Seungcheol if you were his wife. He laughed, then choked on a fish bone and asked you to leave all the cooking to him from here on and so you did.

Every day, Seungcheol would cook before he left while you stood beside him, watching in awe, handing him whatever he asked for. You usually ate breakfast and lunch with the animals in the stable but you always had dinner with Seungcheol. No matter how long he was gone for, end of the day, he always made it back to you.   

You watched the sun slowly setting behind the mountains. He should be here soon, which was why you shouldn’t be sitting by the lake anymore. Seungcheol always warned you to maintain a safe distance from it, to never go too near. He said it was dangerous, that people drown because they cannot breathe under water. You had seen it.  

When the woodcutter’s young boy fell into the lake a few weeks ago, you watched him thrash in the water, struggling to come up. A few brave people jumped in to save him but the boy never came out again. Everyone in town was scared of the lake, they hated it. Only the old ‘crazy’ lady that lived by the edge of the forest ever went near it. She wasn’t afraid of it; she said the lake was barely dangerous - it was the sea that was bad. That it had terrifying monsters and horrors that should never be uncovered. She liked the lake and honestly, so did you.

You liked how it never really felt cold and how the temperature was always just nice. You liked how all the fish swam up to you whenever you dangled your feet in, sitting by the bank, how at peace it all made you feel.  

But when you saw Hannie in the sky, you immediately pulled your legs out of the water and hid the wetness of your feet under the fabric of your long skirt. Hannie was Seungcheol’s other pet, a pretty, baby white dove. He wasn’t a pet, not really, he belonged to the skies but Hannie loved to follow Seungcheol everywhere and Seungcheol loved it just as much. Actually, the whole town seemed to love white doves – it was on their flags, their shields, their uniforms. Seungcheol said it was the emblem of the kingdom. You had no idea what that meant, and frankly you didn’t care much. All that mattered was that whenever you spotted this little white bird, instantly recognisable by the small tinge of red right in the middle of its chest, it meant Seungcheol was home. As it softly landed on the fence, right before the sun was completely engulfed by the mountains, you heard Seungcheol’s horse and opened the gates to let them in.  

Over dinner, Seungcheol told you about the fight that broke in the marketplace. It’s a funny place the market, something always seemed to be happening there. On the weekends, you would follow him through it as he went vendor to vendor, making his purchases. The people of the market were actually sweet. They would always smile and try to talk to you but you could never bring yourself to talk back, you could never find the right words to say. Instead, you’d simply stare blankly then move closer to Seungcheol, holding on to him. Eventually, they all started assuming you couldn’t speak. You didn’t correct them and looking at your reluctance, neither did Seungcheol. He would simply wave them away, or shoo the kids who seemed to tease you. As long as you were outside, Seungcheol would never leave your side or your hand.  

You didn’t like going out very much, the big crowds and all those loud noises were always highly uncomfortable but the few times Seungcheol insisted you come with him and said it would be fun, it was actually not that bad. He took you to the town’s lights festival, where every inch of the streets and houses was covered with the prettiest coloured lights, and also to the annual horse racing competition which was exhilarating beyond belief. Your favourite though was children’s drama day, when the little kids of the town participated in skits looking a lot, lot smaller than the original characters were supposed to be. He didn’t though, take you to that big feast that happened in the castle. You didn’t really mind – something about the castle was just very unnerving.  

It stood tall and proud, all the way at the edge of the town, up a long winding route, at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the sea waters. Initially you had no idea what a castle even was, but over time you learnt that it was where the king lived. The king was the most important person in the town and supposedly the kindest, wisest and strongest man too. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought Seungcheol was the king. Afterall, he helped everyone in the neighbourhood, he solved the fights in the markets, he protected the settlement from the wild dogs and other beasts of the forest. But Seungcheol was not the king. The king lived in the castle and Seungcheol lived with you.  

After dinner, like every other day, you sat in Seungcheol’s study, practicing writing your alphabets as he went through endlessly long scrolls of his own. Today when you handed him your work, he scolded you yet again for rushing through the last few lines. You knew you shouldn’t have but you can never help it because the faster you finished, the sooner Seungcheol would read to you. Granted you knew how to read now but you weren’t really good at it, not everything made sense. The small books were easy but they were boring - it was always about animals and children and other things. The big books were where everything interesting was.  

Every night before you went to sleep, Seungcheol would bring out a book, sitting down by the fireplace and you would curl up next to him, leaning over as he read to you. Sometimes he would read out history, recounts of great wars and heroes and sometimes about legends, the fire breathing dragons, sea monsters, fairies in the woods. While you listened to all of them with the same fascination and curiosity, a selected few made you feel somewhat…..different – the ones about true love. About two people fighting all odds to be together. About two people wanting to be with each other more than anything.

Whenever Seungcheol read those to you, you somehow saw yourself in those words. Or rather, those words in you. You found that ‘quickening heartbeat’ whenever your hand brushed against the man beside you. His compliments made the ‘heat in your cheeks rise’. There was a constant ‘nervous fidgeting of the fingers’ when you were around him and sharing of the ‘secret glances’. Even now as he was reading you were looking at him, at the way his lips were moving and how soft they looked and wondering how much softer they would feel against yours.

When Seungcheol turned to you, sensing your eyes on him, meeting them without hesitation, you could have leaned in, you could have found out. But you didn’t; you didn’t dare. Instead, you looked down at the book, at the pictures of the prince and princess dancing, wondering if you too had a happily ever after written in your fate.  

Maybe it was, because a few days later, when Seungcheol looked at you like that again, you didn’t hold back anymore. You didn’t want to. This time you leaned in, gently pressing your lips onto his, discovering much to your relief that they were indeed every bit as soft as they looked. His eyes widened when you pulled back immediately, but he didn’t say or do anything. Then a silence followed, heavy with confusion and anticipation and so many other things that you couldn’t quite fathom so you quickly excused yourself from there stating it might rain and you forgot to close your bedroom windows.

As you shut the doors of your room behind you, hand on your chest, you felt your heart racing away but you should have been at peace, right? You had finally plucked up the courage and satiated all that bubbling curiosity. Instead, you felt like you were going to lose your mind – now that you had a taste, you wanted more.   

Days passed before you finally kissed him again.

It was on a rainy night and you were sitting closer to him than usual, as though the fire was not enough to keep you warm. It started the same way, first a few stolen glances, then a long silent stare and then you were kissing him, soft and sweet but this time he pulled back and you didn't let him. Instead you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, holding him close, whispering that you wanted to do it again. He listened, kissing you back but it was different this time and god did it set off something in you.

His lips became demanding, and his hands were everywhere - in your hair, running down your back, on your waist. He took your breath away, quite literally because he just wouldn't stop and you couldn’t breathe. You didn't want to either but after what felt like eternity, you had to break apart, feeling all giddy. Seungcheol then gave you the brightest smile and one last peck. 

That went on for many more days. Sometimes it was sweet and simple, sometimes hot and heavy. Initially the books were your only witness then there were more. The peaking sun as he gave you a peak before he left in the mornings, the pots and pans of the kitchen while he focused on you instead of the burning bread, and kkuma, when he forgot to seek while she hid, his attention on your mouth instead. Everything was going blissful.

Then one day Seungcheol didn't come home even after the sun set.

You waited by the gate for a long time, but neither Hannie, nor Seungcheol, nor his horse could be seen. That was the first night you spent alone - shivering in the cold and terrified. The storms had begun outside, the rain was drowning everything in its way and as each hour passed, you sunk deeper and deeper into despair.

Even when the sun came up again the rain didn't stop, the pain didn't stop. Though you hadn't slept or eaten in hours you only thought about him. Even kkuma got tired of waiting and curled up in the warmest spot in the house but you stood by the door the whole time until you couldn't anymore.  

Not when you saw finally saw Hannie in the sky but Seungcheol didn't follow. That was when you knew something was terribly wrong. You immediately grabbed a lamp and were ready to set off to find him on your own when you saw the paper tied to the bird’s little foot. I'll be back soon it read in the handwriting you recognised was Seungcheol's, a wave of relief crashing over you.  

But it took very, very long for 'soon’ to come.

The rain had stopped, the sun had set, the sky had cleared and the stars were pitifully watching the way you sat against the door, desperately fighting your eyes threatening to fall shut. That was when you felt Seungcheol's hand on your face, gently tucking your hair behind your ear.  

You instantly got up, throwing yourself into his arms and for the first time ever, broke down, sobbing into his chest. He held you like that for as long as you didn't let him go, softly patting you, telling you it was okay, and that he's home. There was apparently a landslide near the mountains and he had to help the people stuck there but you didn't care what his reasons were. You were never going to let him go ever again, you'd fight the sun from coming up tomorrow morning if needed.

Seungcheol simply laughed and said first you should fight your stomach, it seemed like it was struggling in there. It was only when you admitted you hadn't eaten since last night that he let you go and walked into the kitchen to whip you a quick morsel.

That night he said he was too tired to read to you. Instead, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead with an apology and was about to retire to his room when you held him by the hand, scared to let him go again. He tried to comfort you but the tears just wouldn’t stop, not until he cupped your cheek and kissed you, whispering about how he missed this, how he missed you. You confessed that you did too, and his absence made you feel terrible, like never before.

Let me make you feel good then he said. But if he wanted to help you, why did it seem like he was pleading? Like if you didn't agree he would lose it? So you agreed, letting him do whatever he wanted, whatever he needed.

His mouth was hot on yours, hands wandering all over and when they tugged the strings of your dress, you let out an inaudible gasp against his lips. He swallowed your words, undressing you slowly, with his hands and his eyes. You felt so bare, so exposed yet you didn't feel like hiding from him - you wanted him to explore you however he could and god did he do it.

If you thought his mouth on yours felt good, the places he put it now were wild. It was like he somehow knew every sensitive bit of your skin and went straight for it. He wasn't lying, this was better than good, it felt euphoric. He unravelled you with his touch, his hands in places even you hadn't felt yourself. You wanted more, you wanted so much more and he gave it, over and over again, letting you feel every inch of him, reaching as deep inside you as he could, like any distance between the both of you was unbearable. You let him consume you in his fire as the pain turned to a pleasure like never before, a coil tightening in the pits of your being. The both of you whispered each other’s names for as long as you could hold it until you finally let go and so did he, filling you with every last essence of him. As you laid side by side breathless, staring at the roof, you saw the stars have come down, swirling across the ceiling and you fell into a deep slumber.  

When you woke up that morning, the sun was almost right on top of the cottage, half the day having already passed. Seungcheol didn't leave that day, instead he was right there, pressed against your back, wrapping you in his embrace, your limbs messily tangled with each other’s. When you tried to free yourself from him, he pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck, taking in as much of you as he could before he said he had to leave again. I'll come back to you, he promised and you did not let him see how tears brimmed in your eyes as you waved him away.

After that day though, you never cried again. Or ever slept in your own bedroom. Like promised every night Seungcheol returned to you and every night you lay between the sheets together, some days making love, some days simply talking and laughing away, some days just drifting away to sleep in each other’s arms. It truly felt like happily every after but you forgot, happily ever after was only for fairytales.

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It was just another normal day. The both of you had woken up as usual to the crowing of the rooster before dawn. You gathered the vegetables in the garden while Seungcheol made the most wonderful soup, perfect for a cold day. After he kissed you goodbye and left, you cleaned the stables, drew water from the well, tended to the garden, washed up, donned your favourite red dress, ate lunch, took a nap, played with kkuma, and finally, sat by the lake again, trying to catch your breath. It was the same routine as the last eight weeks.  

As you unconsciously plucked on the grass, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to a question that had been plaguing you these days. Was this all your life was going to be? The same routine, waking up everyday knowing it was going to be the exact same as yesterday and will be the exact same as tomorrow? Sure, you loved Seungcheol and Kkuma and Hannie and this little life you had built together, but you couldn’t help but think if you were made for something more. This couldn’t be it right?  

It wasn’t. And you were moments away from finding out.

You were so lost in thought, you didn’t notice Hannie in the sky until he landed right next to you, making you hurriedly jump to your feet to get away from the lake only for your damned dress to get tangled between your feet, making you fall right into the waters. Thank God Seungcheol had reached just in time to see you disappear under the surface and immediately dived in. Using all his might he pulled you up before you were lost in the depths, coughing and catching his breath as he crawled onto the bank.

That was the first day things went very, very differently.  

Instead of greeting Seungcheol like you usually did every day, you shivered, walking away into the house to dry yourself. You didn’t change into another red dress but a blue on this time that made even Seungcheol raise an eyebrow in surprise. Dinner was not the same too. The kimchi which never ran out had finally run out, there was apparently no fish in the market today and seungcheol bought eggs for the first time. When he insisted you would like the taste, you tried it and you indeed did like it, a lot. He grinned at you and said you could always trust his word but how could you anymore? 

He told you to stay away from the lake, that people couldn’t breathe under it but when you fell in, you could. In there you felt, if not more, just as alive and breathing and the water – it spoke to you. At first you were sure you were dying - you should have listened to Seungcheol, you should have stayed away but here you were in the middle of the lake, so close to death that you were hallucinating voices. But when you realised you were actually breathing, you listened. 

Finish your mission Y/n. Finish the mission and you can become who you really are again. You can join the waters again. 

You didn’t understand.  

That night instead of a fairytale, you ask Seungcheol to tell you about the legend of the sea again so he did.

Centuries ago, back when there was magic on Land, there was an ancient war between two of the most powerful kingdoms of Earth – the Chois and the Kangs. They battled tirelessly, day and night, for months to the point where uncountable bodies began piling, resources began running out and even the heavens begged them to stop - there would be nothing left of the Earth this way. But that’s the thing about power – relinquishing it was not an option.  

Finally, one unfortunate day, the Chois gained an upper hand in battle, forcing the Kangs to seek refuge in hiding. The Kangs though, disappeared overnight - though the Chois searched every corner of Land, they could not find them. It was only when they sort to use magic to find them that victors of the battle realised, they had lost their most prized possession – the Sceptre. The sceptre was like the motherboard of all magic on Earth – it was the source. After years of combing every inch of Land, the Chois finally came to the conclusion that the Kangs and the Sceptre were in the one place that no one on Land could reach – The Sea.  

Indeed, powered by magic, the entire kingdom of the Kangs and all those who stood by their side had retreated into the ocean, making a life for themselves there. Using the magic, they kept themselves alive, preparing once again to battle for what they believed was rightfully theirs. But the Earth could not take another war, at this rate, nothing would be left and so, the Council of the Land and the Council of the Sea were formed, to keep peace between both kingdoms. After months of debate, both councils came to a Pact.

The Kangs were allowed to keep the magic but were forbidden from ever stepping on Land. The very magic they stole was used to strip them of their ability to breath air, forcing them to stay in the waters for life. The Chois on the other hand, were allowed to rule Land but were never to see magic again – the Land would not know of it and would not use it anymore. And most importantly, the Land and the Sea were never to meet. Every single ship in sight was burnt, boats were torn apart, walls were built at the border of every coastal city.  

Over generations, not only did the Land never interact with the Sea but they began to fear it, malicious stories of monsters and merpeople making their way into children’s bedtime stories and fairytales. A few brave, rebellious souls would try to break The Pact and venture into the Sea but no one really lived to tell the tale.

Seungcheol said that there will never be anyone with a tale to tell because like all legends, this too was no more than just a story and a speculation. But for the first time, you don’t believe him.  

Instead, you think merpeople truly do exist and as impossible as it sounded, you might just be one of them

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You looked at the pretty red dress you had laid out on the bed for today.  

Today was important for more than one reasons.

Today was the annual citizen’s banquet, which meant it was the first time you were going to the castle. Today was also the first time you were going to see the king and most importantly, today was also probably the day you were going to find out who you really are.  

You didn’t tell Seungcheol about what happened that day in the lake. Maybe because he believed that the Legend of the Sea was not true or because you yourself were not sure you entirely believed it, but somehow you, who told Seungcheol about everything, didn’t tell him about this. You needed more confirmation first, you needed to go into the lake once more.

But surprisingly, the lake you once liked so much looks more daunting now. You were not afraid of drowning, rather you were afraid what being able to survive the waters would mean. You kept avoiding it, telling yourself one day you couldn’t go in there because you had to brine the vegetables and that you had to bathe the cows or whatever other excuse you could find until one day all the chores were over and you ran out of excuses. You had to go in now.  

Carefully looking around to make sure there was no one in sight, you sat down on the bank, put a foot first, then the other, then slowly lowered yourself in, submerging into the waters, kkuma’s barks fading out, the voices taking over.  

Finish your mission Y/n and join the waters again.  

It was true.  

You weren’t imagining things, you were indeed breathing in there, the voices were real, everything was ridiculously real. It didn’t make any sense but it also really did. The water felt like home, like you belonged. You could swim much faster, better than you could walk. You felt stronger, more powerful, more like you in there. Even though the lake looked like it held darkness, you could clearly see everything below – the animals, the plants, the life, all of it. Oh, you wanted to join the waters, you wanted to be here forever.

But when you opened your mouth to ask what the mission was, only the gurgling sound of bubbles left you. Somehow just the thought was enough because you heard the answer soon enough and it sent a chill down your spine.  

Kill the King.  

You looked at yourself in the mirror, donning your dress.

The price for finding out who you were was to kill the king, the most important man in the town.

You couldn’t.

Taking the life of another could not be the price of your truth. So, you had decided to forget about it. It was wrong and unethical and whoever asked you of that had clearly lost their mind except….. it was you.

The more you thought about it, the more you could not deny it – the voice in the lake was your own, as though you had left yourself a message, a reminder. Why on Earth would you want to kill the king? Then again, how did you, someone who clearly belonged to The Sea, find themselves on land? Why was it that you remembered nothing?

Maybe killing the king had a bigger purpose, a noble one, after all, all kings were not necessarily good.  

You had to find out. You had to meet him and see for yourself.

And as though the universe was aligning things into place for you, the night you decided to ask Seungcheol about visiting the castle, he mentioned that the king was arranging a grand banquet to which all citizens of the town were invited. He said if you were not comfortable you didn’t have to go but you cut him off much to his surprise, insisting that you want to attend.  

That’s how days later you found yourself standing at the gates of the castle as the crowd of town poured into the estate on either side of you. Seungcheol was supposed to pick you up tonight but instead there was a carriage waiting for you, with a message relayed by the footman that he got caught up in something and will meet you in the banquet.

The banquet was arranged in a large hall right in the middle of the castle and it was perhaps the most stunning place you had ever seen. The stone walls were covered in drapes of red and purple, the large windows shining with the views of prettily trimmed gardens. There were beautiful paintings everywhere, statues of men in armour and food of all kinds being serve around. Almost the whole town fraternised under the large golden chandelier, each dressed better than the other, chattering away in small whispers. You stayed near the large pillars of stone, as far away from the crowd as possible, eyes still looking for Seungcheol, ears trying to tune out all that people were saying around you.  

But you couldn’t ignore the loud sound of the trumpet as it echoes through the hall, followed by an announcement that the King had arrived. As your heart thumped away in your chest, he appeared, at the top of the stairs that led down into the hall, dressed in what you thought was rather simple for a king. You wanted to move closer to get a better look as he descended down the stairs but you realised everyone around you was bowing down to him so you mirrored it, staring at the white marble of the floor. Its only when a pair of pretty leather shoes appear right before you that you allow yourself to look up, facing the one person you were to see tonight – the king.

He was nothing like you hoped. He didn’t look malicious, or evil or like he was even capable of doing something wrong. He had the kindest eyes, crinkled with crows’ feet as he smiled at you so warmly, you felt nothing but comfort. Only one other person in this whole town ever made you feel safe like that. From the looks of his salt and pepper hair, he looked like he was aging, and the wisdom that came with time also shone on his face. He smiled so pleasantly, didn’t dress in a way that showed off all his wealth, and didn’t seem to harbour any sort of superiority because the moment the music swelled to life, he held his hand out to ask you, a commoner, for a dance.  

The whole town looked at you as though they were waiting so you placed your hand on his, letting him lead you to the middle of the floor as everyone else immediately moved to pick partners of their own.

Seungcheol had taught you how to dance. When you expressed your interest to go to the banquet, he told you there would also be a dance accompanying it and showed you how it was done. He was so patient with you, even though you stepped on his foot and banged his head with yours a few hundred times, bursting into a string of apologies whenever you did. But he only laughed, holding you close and dancing with you through the rainy night. You wondered where he was right now but that was the least of your worries considering you were dancing with the man you were deemed to kill and to your absolute disappointment, you could not find one reason to do so.  

You hoped so hard that you were right, that the king was a bad man and you were given this mission to make things right but he wasn’t. As much as you tried to not eavesdrop, you still heard whatever the people around you were whispering away. They were all in praises of him. They said he was a great man and under his ruling, the town was doing better than ever. They said the harvest was good thanks to him, that the they were safe from invasion thanks to him and were all living well thanks to him.

A part of you knew they were right – you had seen how happy and peaceful the townspeople always were, something that was only possible if they were in good hands. You could see for yourself what a wonderful man the king seemed to be and how everyone truly seemed to love and cherish him.

But a part of you didn’t want to believe that. You had to find a reason, something had to be wrong, you needed to justify why killing him was important. That was the only way to find out who you are.  

And as though the universe which had been so helpful so far decided now was the time to create chaos, the trumpet echoes through the hall again, announcing the arrival of the crown prince. When you see the person standing at the top of the stairs, you instant freeze, feeling your guts twist the way they did the first time you ever saw him – Seungcheol.  

Seungcheol was a prince. He was the crown prince of this land which meant he was the first born of the king.

That meant...... your mission was to kill the father of the man you loved.

As the townspeople gathered in the gardens below, you stood in a balcony of the castle, looking at the stars dancing in the sky.  

The whole night you had been feeling nothing but numb. The moment Seungcheol had appeared you excused yourself from the king, rushing out of the hall, trying not to throw up. Seungcheol immediately followed asking if you were okay but you didn’t answer. You did not see things unfolding this way. Not only did you not find a single reason why you had to kill the King, now you had one for why you shouldn’t do it.  

Seungcheol asked again, looking for answers in your expression but you just looked away, muttering that you had no idea he was the prince. He said he wasn’t trying to hide it from you, he just didn’t think about it. The whole town knew he was the crown prince so he never had to introduce himself that way. Besides, he didn't like to his status as royalty to define him so he didn’t usually mention it to anyone. As far as why he didn’t live in the castle was concerned, he started living in the cottage when he was 14 years old. That house was his mother’s, before the king and her fell in love and got married. After she passed away in the childbirth of her second child, he moved there so he could feel closer to her. His father too thought it was good for him to live among his subjects, to learn their problems and to gain their trust.  

You had nothing but silence to offer in return. It was all too much, all at once.  

The loud whispers of the town started fading out as the King walked in, standing among them. Seungcheol didn’t look too happy as he stared at the scene below him. He said he was worried about his father. You felt that churning feeling in your stomach once again. He said that he was getting old and it was getting harder for him to negotiate with neighbouring kingdoms, to keep war at bay. You didn’t understand what he meant.

He claimed the town was happy now but 3 months ago, nothing was going well. Their kingdom was under attack, everyone’s lives were threatened, the future looked very bleak. The king had somehow managed to save everyone then but unknown to the people, it was temporary. His father tried his best to negotiate and talk to the neighbouring kingdoms but there was no use – war has been declared against them yet again and he was worried King Choi was not strong enough for battle.

You held his hand stroking the back of it softly. He then apologised to you, confusing you even more. You asked him why but you had an idea already – he was taking his father’s place in war; he was going to lead the army.  

You felt as though someone pulled the ground below your feet and Seungcheol’s grip on your hand was the only thing saving you from falling. As crown prince it was his duty and you knew and understood but the thought of being away from him again was killing you on the inside. He said he wouldn’t be gone for long but you know what war meant - there was no guarantee of him even returning.

You hugged him shaking your head, refusing to let him go or insisting that he take you along with him but he simply hugged you back claiming that was not possible, it was dangerous. He told you to move to the castle while he was gone. Here you would be taken care of, you wouldn’t be lonely and most importantly, you would have the chance to get closer to his father.

You froze.  

Seungcheol let you go, making you sit on the moss-covered stone bench, sitting next to you. He said he wanted to leave you in good hands in case he didn’t make it back. You refused to listen to anything else, he promised he would always come back to you, that meant he had to come back. He laughed at your futile stubbornness, tucking your hair behind your ear, looking at you with a strange longing. You give him a soft peck on his lips to let him know he had no reason to long for you, you were always his. He pulled you in for more, taking your face in his hands, his mouth desperate against yours, like it was the last time, like a silent goodbye etched in his kiss.

It was only when the applause rang downstairs that he let you go, pressing his forehead on yours, sighing. You felt tears threaten your eyes once again as he caressed your cheek with his thumb softly, like he was trying to memorise how your face felt under his touch. He said he wished he had longer with you, he wished had done this earlier and slid onto the gravel floor onto his knees, looking up at you softly.  

Marry me, he whispered, holding your hands. 

You stared at him wordlessly as the sky behind you came alive with lights, fireworks prettily burning against the black canvas of the night. Maybe a few days ago if he asked you would have said yes without him even needing to finish. You would marry him right there and then but now you were torn. Kill the King. The words were constantly ringing in your head. How could you marry him if your mission was to…..  

He understood your silence as hesitance, saying you didn’t have to answer now, you could tell him when he returned - that way he would have something he had to come back for. He then pulled out a small necklace from his pocket, making you wear it, saying it was a reminder of him while he was away. You touched the pendant, feeling it with your fingers. It wasn’t like any jewel you had ever seen - it didn’t shine, it was an odd shape and it looked rather dull. He said it was a shell and it was from the sea.  

If he noticed your shocked reaction and stuttering as you asked him how he got it , he didn’t mention it. Instead, he answered that there was a path from behind his cottage that led to the other side of the forest, to a sea cave where land and sea met fearlessly. Before you came into his life, that was his favourite place to go - he often spent his free time there and that’s where he found this.  

You wonder if it’s a sign from the universe, receiving a part of the ocean at a time when you didn’t know what to choose.  

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The next morning, trumpets rang through the entire town, announcing that the neighbouring kingdom had declared war and the crown prince was leading the army to fight. People spilled onto the streets to watch the armoured and determined cavalry going to serve their kingdom, Seungcheol leading the troop all the way in front on his horse. You stood at the highest terrace of the castle, watching him leave, going further and further away, until the distance engulfed him and you couldn’t see him anymore. You barely had him to yourself for five minutes in the morning to say goodbye before he was called away. You convinced yourself that all this was temporary anyways, he would come back.  

With a heavy heart, you walked down the wide corridors of the palace, kkuma following your every step. You lived here now. Seungcheol had people shift your few things from the cottage to his room in the castle. Though the bed was beyond comfortable and the room was bigger than the whole cottage you lived in previously, you didn’t spend much time in there. Instead, you roamed around the gardens and corridors or stepped out into the marketplace that you never ventured in without Seungcheol by your side. Any place was better than his room. It reeked of loneliness and most importantly, it overlooked the sea. As much as the breeze gave you unexplainable comfort, it was also a constant reminder of your mission.  

As time passed, you found yourself less and less inclined to fulfilling your task. You tried your best to not let yourself be swayed but in vain – you could not help but like the king. He was nothing but welcoming and kind to you. Maybe Seungcheol told him or maybe it was just a constant in the Choi family, but he insisted that every night you join him for dinner. He would ask about your day and make light conversation, but unlike Seungcheol, he would retire early to bed. He was sick. You could see in the way he coughed through his meal, the way his eyes keep fluttering shut in tiredness towards the end of the night. Yet he did all he could to make sure you were alright.

He introduced you to the library in the castle and if you thought Seungcheol’s study had a large collection of books, this place was massive. Books were lined all the way up till the ceiling, there were all sorts of maps and globes scattered all over the room, shelfs lined with little trinkets and souvenirs from his travels. The King explained that Seungcheol like his mother, loved to explore and like him, loved science and this library was where it all came together. He used to be unstoppable ever since he was a child and his curiosity always landed him in trouble – the whole town was banned from stepping on the beach but nothing could stop him. He always wanted to explore the sea.  

It surprised you to learn about Seungcheol’s fascination with the sea because he had always told you to stay away from water, that it was dangerous. You spent days of your time in that library, going through his journals and drawings, but didn’t really understand all the scribbles of notes he had jotted everywhere. You did see on the map though, the location of the sea cave that Seungcheol had mentioned about, wondering if you could get any answers there, but somehow you could never bring yourself to go. The answers of the questions you had so far had not been pleasant.  

Then one day as you sat on the wooden floor of the sunlit room studying what looked like drawings of some strange contraption, Hannie appeared in the sky.  

You immediately got up, running out of the room, down the corridor, up the stairs, all the way to the top, to try and see Seungcheol reappear where you last saw him.

He didn’t.

Clouds made their way, covering the strong sun, submerging the town in a strange gloom. It all felt too apocalyptic. You rushed to find the King, learning that he was holding court, making your way to the hall, stopping right by the door and hiding yourself to overhear the discussion.

The Chois were ambushed.

More than half the forces were dead or injured, many were missing and as though your greatest fear came true, Seungcheol was missing too. He was also very badly injured and no one had seen or heard from him in two days, it was highly likely he succumbed to his injuries. You refused to believe it. He said he would come back to you, which meant he would, you believed him. But no one else seemed to share the same faith as you. They were going to give up, surrender the throne to prevent an attack on the town itself. That was when to everyone’s surprise you barged in.

You insisted nothing was wrong with Seungcheol and they had to find him and finish this war. They tried to reason with you, tell you the facts but you refused to hear it. You questioned how they could give up so soon and why they aren’t even trying to find him. They claimed they had to clear out from enemy territory, that it could be dangerous going back there. You turned to the King hoping you could at least reason with him but his tired old face looks like he’s already mourning his son.  You ran out of there, unable to come to terms with what was happening.

You would find him yourself if that’s what it took.

Rushing to the royal stables, you picked the horse that looked the strongest and forced its gates open, ignoring the crimson bleeding out of your hand as you cut it on the metal. Before the poor stable boy could stop you, you mounted it, riding out of the palace, into the unprepared town. People hurriedly ran out of the way, pulling their carts and children to the side, nothing but wind left behind as you raced through. You had your eyes on Hannie flying in the sky above you. You knew it could lead you to him, you just had to follow. You were almost successful in crossing the gates of the town, into the woods, when the royal guards caught up, surrounding you.

The head of security begged you to stop, that you were putting the kingdom in more jeopardy and you couldn’t let your desire to protect one man affect everyone. You wanted to argue, tell him that you didn’t care about anyone else and to insist that they let you go but when you turned and saw all the people stepping out of their houses to see what the commotion is, you let go the reins of the horse. Yes, finding Seungcheol was most important to you, but not at the cost of so many people’s lives. You knew better than that, you could never be that selfish.

As though Hannie sympathised, it landed on your softly shoulder, nuzzling your neck, cooing in your ear. You took him in your hands, the bloodied hand further darkening the red on its chest, a thought forming in your mind. You smudge the blood onto your fingertips, tracing a word onto its white, a word that you knew would bring Seungcheol back to you. As you set it free hoping it would find him, you watch the yes etched on it, praying to the skies that when it returns, Seungcheol follows it like always.  

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You didn’t return to the castle after that.  

Turning your horse in the other direction, you rode to Seungcheol’s cottage by the woods, the only place you felt close to him. The big room and big bed of the castle might be physically comfortable but nothing made you feel at peace like this house, your safe haven. You were curled up in the bed for hours now as the sun slowly began to descend behind the mountains. You just had to give it time. You kept telling yourself it wasn’t a matter of if Seungcheol returned but when. He would come back for you, he would fight all odds and come back, you knew it.  

The sound of the horses neighing at a distance made you sit up. The royal guards must be here to escort you back to the castle now that it was getting darker outside. You didn’t want to go. You couldn’t stand being in that castle again.

Grabbing the oil lantern nearby, you soundlessly left through the back door, kkuma following you just as quietly. You thought you could just wait it out until the guards didn’t find you and returned to the castle but when kkuma began wandering away, you had no choice but to follow her. Not listening to your hushed whispers, with a mind of her own, she ventured into the forest and thoughtlessly, you followed. It’s only when the trees parted that you realised where you were – the sea cave.  

You didn’t know what you were expecting when Seungcheol mentioned about this place but it was beyond beautiful. The crystal blue waves were racing back and forth on the golden sand, the stone wall of the caves were gradients of brown rocks and green weeds. There were holes eroded onto the roof, the evening sun softly pouring in and in that soft light you noticed in the corner, folded are some blankets and books that clearly belonged to Seungcheol – he indeed must have spent a long time here. Kkuma settled herself down in the warmth of the bundled cloths, as you placed the lantern on a nearby rock and kicked your shoes off, feeling the warm sand under your feet.  

The water was inches away. The Ocean, the place that, if you had assumed right, was your home. Every bone in your body was craving to be in it, to submerge in it, to just feel alive in it once again. You walked ahead, taking one step after another, but the closer you moved to the waters, the further it seemed to be moving away from you. You quickened your steps, but the Sea kept retreating, pulling away. It surprised you to receive such hostility from waters that always looked so welcoming but not more than the voice that boomed through the cave, making you look around in panic. There was no one, you were all alone and kkuma too was fast asleep, like she didn’t hear anything. When you turned back to the sea, you bit back a scream, coming face to face with a woman, whose eyes were piercing into you, her lips curled into a smile as her voice echoed through the cave again. 

I see you’ve finally found your way home.  

Pain like no other seared through your head, making you fall to your knees in agony, your dress fanning out in the sand. As the woman bent down to your level, you scrambled back, swallowing the phantom lump in your throat, taking a better look at her. Holding a staff in one hand, she looked as old as time, her white hair and ragged clothes floating like she was still in the waters and that’s when you realised, she wasn’t actually here – it was apparition, like… magic. As though she read your mind, she confirmed it indeed was magic, that she controlled all the magic of the Sea - she was after all the Sea Witch.  

You recalled Seungcheol’s story about how the Sea had taken away magic from the Land, watching the legend come to life before you as the woman floated a few feet above the ground, looking at you expressionlessly. Who am I? Do I belong to the Sea? Why am I on Land?  You knew she was the only one who could possibly have the answers and she did - for a price.  

She pointed at the shell on your neck, claiming it belonged to the Sea – give it back and you could have all the answers you wanted. You held it in your grasp; it was the only thing of Seungcheol’s you had with you. You could either lose it and learn who you are or keep it and walk away, return to the castle. You could let your forgotten past remain forgotten and think only about the future with Seungcheol.  

But is there a future? She asked, reading your mind yet again. You knew what she meant. Seungcheol went to war and people died in war all the time. If he did not make it back, you had no place on Land, no home, no one to call your own. But if you were to find out who you truly are, you could then return to where you truly belonged. You tightened your grip on the shell, the pressure opening your wound, the blood spilling again. Giving up this necklace meant admitting to the possibility that Seungcheol will not return. How did that make you any different from all the others in the court who you lashed out at? 

The Sea Witch looked at you fighting your own battle in your head. She held out her hand saying if it was meant to be, then Seungcheol would return to you, regardless of whether you had this necklace or not. You know she’s playing you but give in, ripping the chain from your throat and throwing it into the waters, watching it sink into the dark bottom.  

The waves which seemed so afraid of you, raised themselves, almost as though bowing to you and the Sea Witch mirrored their action before straightening and looking up but this time, respectfully not meeting your eye.  

What do you seek, Princess of the Ocean.  

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You held the dagger in your hand tight, hands not shaking as you approached the dining room.  

The moment you returned to the castle, the maids had told you dinner was served and the king was waiting for you. You washed up and changed out of your sand filled clothes into one of your usual red dresses. Maybe there was a reason why you liked red so much – maybe deep down you knew you needed to hide the blood on your hands somewhere.  

You had to kill the King tonight.  

You stood in front of the large doors, the dagger that the Sea Witch gave in your hands, hiding efficiently in the large fabric of your dress. Once you stepped in, everything would change. You would become the killer of Seungcheol’s father, but you would also finally be fulfilling your duty to your people, the MerFolk.  

The Sea Witch told you the story from when it all began. The legends were all true. The merfolk were real, the life under the sea was real, everything you had experienced was real. 3 months ago, you were a part of the Sea, living a carefree life as the youngest princess of the royal family. Then one move by King Choi and everything changed.  

Over the centuries even though the entire ocean was ruled by just one family, without the power of magic, land had split into many Kingdoms and many rulers. Unlike the peace in the Sea, Land was always at war with itself, neighbouring kingdoms attacking and occupying towns – they never got rid of the battle they thought they won. One such battle happened three months ago at the Kingdom of the Chois where they were invaded by their neighbours, the Hans. At the brink of losing war, King Choi did the unthinkable – he set sail.

His deep interest in the Sea, that his son eventually inherited, had led him to spend years of his youth designing and building ships, the last of which had been burned during the Pact. The Sea allowed his soldiers to take an alternative route to attack their invaders and drive them out but the moment the ships had touched the ocean waters, years of peace dissolved into chaos.  

As the calm waters were shaken, towns under the Sea began falling apart – many merfolk died, many lost their homes, many lost their way back and among all the tragedies, the greatest one was losing your mother, the Queen.  

Her death left the entire Ocean without a leader, without a protector. Your sister, the oldest in the family, who had been trained for years to take over as queen was missing, like many others in the aftermath. The kingdom waited for days for her to show up until it was not practical to anymore – the ocean needed rebuilding, it needed leadership and guidance. As the only one left in the royal family, you had offered to take your mother’s place as queen but the Council of the Sea refused. You were young and inexperienced and unlike your sister, you were not trained to take over the Kingdom. They wanted to hand the Sea to the Hwangs, another family who had their eye on the throne for centuries now and were willing to take up the responsibility of the Ocean.  

You couldn’t let that happen, not only would it crush your mother’s dreams if the Kang lineage of rulers ended with her but also the Hwangs were notoriously famous for their aggressiveness. Under their hands, there was no saying what the future of the Ocean would look like. The citizens of the sea protested too – they were all on your side, they wanted you to rule and so the Council of the Sea and the Hwangs agreed – if you could prove yourself worthy.  

Kill the King of the Land.  

Blood for blood. Get revenge for the destruction of the Sea, that was the order. That was the price for you to get back your kingdom and 100 days was all you had to do it.

That’s when they called on the Sea Witch. Breathing on Land for 100 days would require very powerful and ancient magic, something only she was capable of. But it would not be so straightforward. The process would be excruciatingly painful, almost like becoming a new person, like being born again - quite literally because it would wipe out all your memories, everything you know of the Sea would be taken away. You would be sent to Land like a blank slate.  

That meant you had 100 days to go on Land, figure out who you were, learn of your mission and complete it. Should you fail, not only would you lose your kingdom, but the waters had no forgiveness for those who disobeyed magic so ancient – you would join them again, but as sea foam.  

Today was day 92. You only had 8 days left.  

You pushed open the doors of the dining hall, eyes falling on the King tiredly slouched in his chair waiting for you. He must’ve fallen asleep because he didn’t move when you approached. You looked at face responsible for the death of your mother, the disappearance of your sister, the destruction of your kingdom and you felt numb. You still couldn’t bring yourself to hate him, but you also couldn’t walk away. Yes, if only he didn’t bring out his ships you wouldn’t have lost so much, you wouldn’t be here but you know like any other good king, he did it to save his people. And now you had to do whatever it took to save yours.  

And then fate smirked.

Just as you raised the knife and were about to plunge it in his chest, you heard the fluttering sound of wings and on the balcony landed Hannie, looking more red than white. The knife slipped from your hands, landing on the floor with a thud as the king stirred awake. His guards burst into the room as the royal trumpets echoed through the night. You rushed to Hannie in the balcony, the one that overlooked the town, and saw the oil lanterns of the houses, slowly increase in number, getting brighter and brighter in the darkness. The king and his men departed immediately and so you followed them, holding Hannie in one hand and your dress in the other, running down the palace corridors and out the gate to see a crowd gathered.  

As it parted, it revealed Seungcheol's horse and holding onto its reins walking it was Seungcheol, bruised and battered, blood splattered all over him, multiple wounds gashed open, barely but still alive. Take a staggering step at a time, he approached his father bowing and whispered, We won before collapsing into the gravel.  

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Seungcheol was immediately taken away by the royal physicians as the king announced to the people that the war was over and the town erupted into cheers. You tried to follow the doctors to be with him but they closed the door on your face, asking you to stay out. So, you stayed right outside, the whole night, prancing about, biting your nails, as you waited for the news.  

Instead, you were met with screams. You don’t know what they were doing to Seungcheol in there but he was evidentially in unbearable pain – you could hear in the way the screams ripped out of his throat, like he was in pure agony. It went on for hours and it was so terrifying to hear, you felt your heart shatter every time it rang through the halls. 

Finally at the crack of dawn he seemed to calm down and the doors finally opened. He was deeply wounded and his body was beyond exhausted, he just needed some sleep, the physicians assured you and the king, who unknown to you had also arrived. You thanked them and hurried in to see Seungcheol peacefully lying on the bed, bandages wrapped all over his body.

You sat beside him as the king gently stroked his son’s hair both proudly and sadly, muttering that he would pray for him to heal soon. As you held Seungcheol’s hand in yours, the king requested you to stay by the former’s side till he woke up. You assured him you would, to which he nodded and to both your shock and horror, pulled out the dagger which you had dropped in the dining room the day before. You held your breath as he placed it on the table beside the bed, not even looking at you. I believe this is yours.  

He knew.  

He figured out that you had attempted to take his life, but the tired old man didn’t say anything as he left. Instead, the royal guards placed at the door told you what you needed to know.

You failed your mission. Not only had you let down your people, you were discovered and now you were to be tried for treason. You only had till Seungcheol woke up. Lips quivering, you held onto his hand tighter. 

You didn’t know if fate was showing you mercy or prolonging your agony but it took almost 2 whole days for Seungcheol to finally wake up.   

You hadn’t left his room since you had entered it. Not only were you not allowed to, but you didn’t want to leave Seungcheol’s side. You either sat beside him, or in the balcony overlooking the ocean for hours together with kkuma curled up next to you and hannie flying around in the sky. The two of them had been awfully calm, as though they too knew what was coming.

Finally, on the 94th night, just as you had closed the doors of his bedroom and prepared your bed to sleep, Seungcheol stirred awake. You immediately rushed to his side as his eyes fluttered open, and the moment they landed on you, he broke into the most peaceful smile. You sighed in relief, softly holding his cheek in your hand, asking him how he was feeling.  

You said yes.  

Hannie flew into the room like a reminder of your message to him but his words only pained you. Things had changed so much since then. Not only could you not marry him but you had now become worthy of his hatred. You don’t think you can bear to see anything but love for you in his eyes.

Leaning down you kissed him, whispering that you loved him and that you wish no matter what, he always remembered that. He didn’t seem to understand your words, still reeling in the happiness of your acceptance of his proposal as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in the embrace you were craving for.  

As the two of you laid for hours together, wrapped in each other, he told you how they had been ambushed before they even reached the battlefield - someone had betrayed them. His horse had saved him, taking him away into the woods, far from his attackers but he was already very badly injured. It was Hannie who arrived with your yes that truly saved him. He knew he had to come back for you so he pushed through. He regrouped what was left of the army and infiltrated the enemy camp that was prematurely celebrating their victory and gained the upper hand.  

You snuggled closer in his warmth, hoping he wouldn’t see the guilt on your face when he spoke of you like you were his saviour. Everything would change tomorrow. Tonight was your last night with him, your last chance to create a memory for him to remember you by. As he went on about how tomorrow morning he would talk to the king about the wedding, you kissed him, cutting him off. Tonight you only wanted to love and love you did.  

Of all the nights you spent with Seungcheol, nothing felt like this. There was a strange desperation carved in the way you undressed each other, hands roaming, names whispered against skin. You took the lead this time, clambering on top of him and he stared at you like you were his whole world and more. Tucking your hair behind your ear, he told you how lucky he was to have you and you pushed the recurring feeling of guilt down and claimed him for yourself one last time.

A clash of hands, tongues and moans, he matched your need, leaving marks of love on your shoulder and chest. Burying your face in his neck, you held back the tears of pain and pleasure and a goodbye all dissolved in one as you came apart above him. Like always his arms held you in his embrace as though stopping you from losing yourself but it was too late. Everything had fallen apart already.  

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When you woke up, the bed was empty.  

Seungcheol was not in the room, neither were the maids scurrying in as usual, cleaning up and neither were the guards who were placed outside the doors all these days. You walked down the corridors which were overtaken by a strange emptiness, wondering where everyone was. It was late in the afternoon judging by the sun but the palace was looking bleaker than usual.  

That was when your eyes fell on the flag of the kingdom hoisted down, flying low.  

Mourning.  

You rushed back towards the bedroom wing of the palace, heart beating erratically against your still lungs, till you found the royal physicians walking out of a chamber, looking dejected. The kings chamber.  

As you got closer, you noticed the officials of the royal court had all gathered around, dressed in black, heads hanging, faces in sorrow. They parted, letting you walk in to see Seungcheol standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at the king who laid peacefully in a slumber he would never wake up from.

The moment you put your hand on his shoulder Seungcheol turned. He wasn’t crying but there was so much pain in his face, it made you want to take him in your arms and hide him there forever. But you didn’t. You rubbed his arms softly whispering that you will wait for him outside, knowing he needed time with his father, the last of his family.  

But the moment you stepped out, the royal guards surrounded you, their spears pointing at you from a distance and you knew the time had come. By the order of the late king, after Prince Choi was awake, you were to be imprisoned for treason. For life.  

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You might have been forced into a four stone walled dark cell for 5 days now but there was no greater prison that your own mind. As the moonlight creeped through the metal bars of the window on top, you sat crouched in the little dark space, leaning against the cold rocks. It was always so silent in here, you only ever heard the crashing of the waves against the walls, each ebb and flow reminding you of where you truly belonged.  

With the king now dead, your mission was complete, you could go back home. You could go back to your people, you could take back your kingdom but somehow you lacked the strength or the will to fight your way out of here. It would mean facing Seungcheol, who in the last many days had not come even once to see you. With each passing minute in his absence a part of you was glad to not see the disgust he would hold for you but another was broken at the thought of this being the end of the love you shared. As you fought your inner battle as a lover and a princess, time, the one thing that you did not have, kept slipping away.  

And then for the first time in 5 days, a shadow other than your own was cast in the moonlight. Seungcheol’s.  

You stood up, taken aback by his presence after so long but more by the sound of the gates opening and the guards asking you to step out, leading you out of the prison cell. You were free.  

It was only then in the light of the fire lit corridors that you saw him, dressed in finery like never before and on his head rested the whole responsibility of the kingdom - the crown. 

It was no longer Prince Seungcheol, he was now King Choi Seungcheol.  

Seeing him like that, your heart swelled with pride. When you found out Seungcheol was the prince you weren’t really as surprised as you should have been because it was only then that things made perfect sense. You had seen the king in him all along. One of the reasons that you loved him so much was because of what a good man he was, always thoughtful of others, always helping those in need, always looking out. No one was more worthy of being king than him.   

But before you can say anything to him, the maids brought you away to his room, complaining that you needed a change of clothes and a good bath. As they helped you strip out and scrubbed your neglected skin, they talked about how Seungcheol was furious when he learnt of your imprisonment. He insisted that you be released at once but he could not do anything as the royal guards would only take orders from the king. Stubborn to get you released no matter what, he sped up the coronation, which was due two weeks later and was crowned king just hours ago. His first order as ruler was that you be immediately released.  

You asked to be left alone for a bit, soaking yourself in the water after days now. Why did Seungcheol let you go? Did he not believe you tried to kill his father? Or did he love you so much that he was willing to forgive you for the attempt?

You couldn’t even ask him. He would not be free of the coronation festivities which apparently went on till sunrise and you didn’t have long before you had to return to the ocean – it was already day 99.  

Maybe it was better this way. You had your duties like he had his. Maybe if you left without giving him an explanation and without getting one, it would be easier for the love between the two of you to die. It had to die. The two of you belonged to two different worlds. There was no a happily ever after written for this story.   

You slid against the bath, submerging yourself into the waters, trying to breathe in peace again.  

But the nightmare had not ended. The voices were not gone.  

Kill the King.  

----------------------------------------------------------

When you walked out of the bathroom, Seungcheol was there.  

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in his usual simple clothes again. In fact, he was wearing the same white shirt as the first time you ever saw him. The irony was not lost on you. It was like fate was not tired of the joke after joke after joke it was playing. 

You walked in, asking him what he was doing away from the celebrations when you noticed what was in his hands. The dagger. Your dagger.  

It's been a while since I told you a story.  

He looked up, meeting your eye in the mirror, his finger dangerously dragging against the blade.  

Do you remember the legend of the sea?  

Why was the talking about this to you right now?  

There's more, he claimed, standing up, turning to you. In that blue sea of dangerous creatures and vicious beings also lived the most beautiful woman in the world.  

You can hear your heart thumping in your ear.  

One day, the woman of the waters found herself on land. She was sent with a mission.

You took a step back. How could he possibly know all this?

You may have forgotten everything Y/n. But I didn't. He walked up to you. You may remember only 3 months of our love, but I remember 10 years of it.

You didn't understand. You didn't understand at all.

The young woman had been interested in the Land and humans ever since she was a little girl. Even though the merfolk were clearly warned to stay away from humans and shallow waters were dangerous to swim in, she would always escape the barricades quietly, to see whatever little of Land she would.

Finally, when she was 14 years old, she discovered a little secret - a sea cave. It was the only place where the waters next to land were deep enough, where she could get close to the land without being in much danger. She would come there often just to look at the sand and the rocks but she never saw any humans.

Until one day, a young, 14 year old Prince, distraught at the loss of his mother had ventured into the forest all alone and found the cave.  

You remember Seungcheol telling you he moved to the cottage after the death of his mother when he was 14.

The price was also just as interested in the Sea as she was in land but unlike her, he did the stupid thing of entering the waters - he immediately started drowning.

That was the day she saved him the first time. Holding her breath to the point she couldn't anymore, she pulled him onto the sand before disappearing into the ocean. The last thing he remembered was seeing her most beautiful face.

After that the prince came everyday. Initially the young girl never showed herself. He knew she was there though, deeper in the waters, lurking silently. He would come every morning and just sit in the sand doing his assignments, glancing at the sea every once in a while and when the sun would start to set, he would return. Slowly, much to his anticipation and delight, she started coming up closer and closer to the surface until one day when he was 16, Seungcheol for the first time, put his hand in the water and touched hers.

It was magical, like nothing he ever felt before.

Then he started to get reckless again, trying to enter the waters, almost drowning too, but this time she held his hand and taught him to swim. Of the many hours he spent in the cave, a few minutes were always in the water, swimming by her side, and the rest were just watching her glide through the waves.

When he was 18, he created something extraordinary. He had always been a bit of a science man but after years of trial and error, he had finally made a device - a little mask of sorts that could help him breathe underwater, for about an hour or so. He didn't have to hold his breath anymore - he was able to spend longer under the sea, longer with her.

When he went to show it to her, she had discovered a little secret of her own - weeds. Not any kind but a very particular one that only grew in the Sea witches house. She apparently used to work for one, to learn magic, like all her other siblings did. There she had come across these very special plants that allowed merfolk to breathe on land.

That was the first time she stepped on land. The moment she did, she succumbed to her knees, throwing up water in the sand. Even the weed had its downsides, the most important one being that its affect only seemed to last an hour or so. But the hour she had with him on land and he had with her in the waters were more than enough - Their worlds were no longer barriers.

That went on for years, these secret meetings. Initially it was just sharing laughs, then dreams, then the thought of a whole life together. He taught her how to read and write their language, she drew him maps of different lands, far away in the sea. He taught her about science and she taught him about magic. His stories about the land animals fascinated her and her stories about the sea creatures terrified him.

When he was 20, he kissed her for the first time. When they were 22, they made love and when they were 24, around a 100 days ago, she told him she had to come to land for a mission.

It felt like someone had knocked the air out of your lungs. How was any of this possible?

She didn't say what her mission was, just that she had something to do and she needed him to help her. She would apparently arrive on land with all her memories gone and she needed him to guide her to find her way back. He didn't understand but she didn't have the time to tell him more. She just handed him a shell necklace and told him to give it to her when the time was right, it would help her figure things out.

So did you figure it out Y/n? He took you hand, placing the knife laced with his blood in it. Was your mission to kill my father?

You shook your head slowly, still processing all the information.

"It was to kill you."

The moment you heard your voice again in that bath, you felt like your life just left you. You thought the mission was completed - the king was dead. Then why were you still hearing it.... except you didn't complete the mission. You didn't kill the king, you didn't use the dagger.

Now the king was right in front of you. The man you just  discovered you had been in love with your whole life. The man who made you fall in love with him all over again. The man who you had to kill to stay alive.

But he didn't look even a little fazed.

The sky behind you was starting to get brighter. The sun was rising. The 100th day was nearly here.

"Its okay." He whispered, moving closer to you without an ounce of fear. "Do it."

How could he love you so much, enough to die for you?

You could feel the tears rolling down your cheeks. He gently wiped it away, shaking his head. You kissed the inside of his hand on your cheek, and then pulled him close, feeling his mouth against yours for what you knew was the last time.

As you whispered an apology, he assured you it was okay. That you were the most beautiful thing that ever happened to him. And there was no better way for him to go than you being the last thing he saw.

You took a step back.

"Till death do us apart."

And then another step.

"Till death do us apart."

And then another, till you reached the window overlooking the ocean, you back against it.

You smiled at him.

He was not the only one who loved you enough to die.

The sun had risen quite high by now. You were simply a silhouette against the light, an outline and soon a memory. Before Seungcheol could even realise what you were doing, you leaned back. He ran towards you, as you let yourself drop, only just missing his outstretched hand trying to pointlessly save you, taken away by the winds, taken away to the sea.

As the sun fully rose in the sky, the dagger in you hands landed in the ocean with a splash, sinking to the bottom slowly, disappearing from existence.

And around it was sea foam, finally reclaimed by the waters where it belonged, gently floating away in peace.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 16

Summary: The final confrontation with Hybern comes to a head.

Content Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Character Death (or two, sorry Beron), Suggestiveness ;)

Author's Note: I'm going to be totally honest, I have a terrible time writing endings, they have never been my strong suit, I like to keep things open ended so that they can just go one forever and ever. So, I intend to write a couple more chapters as part of the epilogue, I'm thinking a mating ceremony? Some fluffy goodness to make up for all the angst? Let me know what you guys want to see :) (I've posted a poll here for ideas as well )

Previous Chapter/ Master List

-------------------

Rhys is screaming, roaring, your name.

You should be dead. 

You’re certainly cold, as cold as you had been the first time the Cauldron’s powers had filled you, but this time, this time there is an end to it. This time you can claw your way to the surface and grab some air. This time you do not fight it, do not surrender to it, you grab hold of that icy power and draw it in like a breath. And when your lungs are full, you release that breath with a scream that blows the roof off the Temple.

You’re not dead at all.

Helion lays with his hands over his head at your feet, completely unharmed.

You rub at the spot on your chest where you took the brunt of the blast, the only real discomfort you still feel from the whole ordeal.

Rhys grabs you by the shoulder, shouting your name, terror shooting down the bond. 

“I’m ok,” you assure. “Although, I do kinda have heartburn now.”

Helion raises himself back up as both Azriel and Cassian slam into the ground beside you. 

“Mother’s Tits!” Cassian bellows.

You burp from the pressure in your chest.

“How the fuck?” Azriel says to Rhys.

Your mate is staring at you like he can’t believe any of this is real, and you’re honestly inclined to believe the same. Just a couple months ago you had fully believed you were just some farm girl, and now, here you stand, a full fledged Death Goddess. 

“What was that?” Rhys demands none of them in particular, his face awash with worry.

You roll your shoulders, strangely more confident than before. You can take that, you can take whatever else it’s got. “The Cauldron and I have unfinished business.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before an arrow comes whizzing past your ear. That was why it had been so empty; why cast spells and lay boobytraps when Hybern could simply pull his men back and wait for you all to enter so he could blast you away with the Cauldron?

Both Cassian and Azriel turn to face the Temple, large wings outstretched like shields as they raise their gloved hands. Ruby and cobalt siphons gleam on their hands and a moment later, they channel a blast of energy at them, turning the first wave of Hybern’s archers to ash. 

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say they’re only out to let the Cauldron recharge,” Helion warns.

You rub at your chest again. “I need to get inside.”

“No-” Rhys starts, his hand still gripping your shoulder as he reconsiders the path ahead. His brothers push forward, their fine-tuned energy blasts clearing a path. For the moment, the Cauldron is quiet. It will not stay that way.

“It has to be me,” you say, turning away from the destruction ahead of you to look at him. It’s not fair that either of your lives have turned out like this, that the time you’ve had together has been so full of hardships. If things were different, maybe you would have wandered into the Night Court on your own, bumped into him in the city somewhere and the bond would have clicked. You could have had something simple, gentle, not these dangers and battles and pain between you. 

“Let us be done with this,” there’s really not time for this conversation, but if anything goes wrong, you couldn’t bear any more regret. “So we can go home, together, like we bargained.”

You flex your hand, where the ink no longer resides, before brushing your hand over his cheek. “I love you, Rhys.”

“No good-byes,” he whispers, violet eyes heavy. 

“We’ll have more time,” you promise. “And I am grateful for what we’ve already had.”

“Even if I did make a mess of it?” He teases, though his voice breaks.

You stretch up on your toes and kiss him gently on the lips. “I suppose I can find it in me to forgive you.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you feel the Cauldron powering up again, its voice a siren call in your mind as it beckons you. You pull away from your mate. “Pull them back.”

“Cassian! Azriel!” He barks and the two Illyrians turn ever so slightly to look at him in confusion, their glittering energy shields parting just enough to let a body through. 

You don’t wait for Rhys to give them anymore orders, you sprint through that gap as fast as your legs can carry you. 

“Come. Sweet Death. Come play, Little Goddess.”

It’s Cassian that yells for you to wait. Cassian who would have taken that next hit, those beautiful wings shredded to pieces had you not been standing directly between him and the next blast. The cold consumes you, makes every breath feel like swallowing glass, but still, you keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The next wave of soldiers comes barrelling forward, and you take all that borrowed energy clustered in your chest and hurl it at them. There’s no way to track how many bodies you turn to mist, a splatter of blood across your face their only remains. The blast takes another part of the Temple off, giving you a path right to where the Cauldron still remains mounted atop the altar. Its three legs have been fused to the ancient stone, Hybern shielded behind it, his men in a semi-circle around the sides.

“Playing hero now, daughter?” He snarls.

“Come to me.”

You open your arms wide as you stalk towards him, a green mist from the Cauldron pouring out over the edges. Even as he swirls a hand through the fog, when It speaks, he offers no reaction, even under his control, the words are meant for you alone. In the end, fate has drawn the two of you together. 

“Give me your best shot!” You challenge.

“Closer. Come closer. Let me hold you.”

The next blast is stronger, pushing you backwards as debris from the now crumbling Temple rains down on your head. Outside, the clash of swords and cries of fighting men ring out. So Hybern is not foolish enough to keep all his men in one place, though that is a battle for the High Lords. You turn your attention away from the noise, swallowing the icy fire that bubbles in your chest from the influx of power, and hurl it back at the altar so hard the ancient stones crack. 

For the first time, Hybern falters, stepping back from the Cauldron with a hand over his face to shield himself from the blast. His men had not been so fortunate.

“You cannot withstand this forever,” Hybern warns.

“And these blasts are not without cost, I’d imagine,” you return. “How long can you hide behind your Cauldron?”

He swirls a hand over the fog, offering a soft chant that makes the Cauldron bubble and groan. The floor trembles as the Cauldron shakes and spits out another attack, this time going wide and brushing the side of your face as it blows the roof off the place. 

Your face is not as sturdy as your chest and the assault makes your ears ring, your right eye blurry. Overhead, Cassian’s Illyrian legion swoops and circles, the strange gems atop their hands pulsing like a dozen flashing lights. 

You shake your head to clear your vision as you turn back to your father. “Afraid to face me without your precious weapon?”

He growls, teeth flashing as he grips the lip of the Cauldron with both hands.

“Come play. Come free me.”

His hands twitch from holding the ancient metal, yet he won’t let it go. “You forget how powerless against me you were before, Daughter.”

You get a step closer, the stones shaking beneath your boots. The more blasts you take, the more stiff your body feels, there is only so much abuse you can take. “Before you released me of whatever limits my powers had, you mean?” You sneer. “I’d say we’re evenly matched now.”

“You’re out of your element!” He shouts.

The Cauldron pulses like a heartbeat, the metal screaming now and you have enough time to reach out a hand and catch it in your palm, even as your arms scream in protest. It is a concentrated effort to push that power back out of your palm, even more so to aim it back at his head. 

There isn’t time for him to shield, forcing him to take a step back away from the Cauldron, finally removing his hands from the lip. You waste no time in rushing forward and getting your own hand around the ancient metal. Instantly, it freezes you in place, the icy depths of whatever magic swirls within latches on like a thousand tiny hooks, fusing itself to you. It takes of you as you take of it, the exchange even and ceaseless.

You poke at the bridge between your mind and Rhys. “NOW!”

A blast of your father’s power slams into the back of your hand as he screams, trying to tear you away, but even though your skin breaks, blood spraying, you couldn’t let go if you wanted to. This is exactly where the Cauldron wants you and it’s exactly where you will stay until it’s done. 

“Yes! Finally! Play with me,” it purrs as Rhys and Helion burst into the room. Light and dark swirl around them like whirlwinds, blowing the walls away until the only thing left standing in the entirety of the Temple is the altar.

“Show me what you want,” you tell it as you try drawing it’s icy power into yourself. There is no end to it; no beginning either. It is you and you are it and the more you take into yourself, the more of you it steals. The mist it emanates slithers around your wrists and up your arms as your own darkness dips within it’s center and disappears. 

“We are made to destroy,” it sings. 

A scream tears out of you as it pushes more of itself into you, the wave of energy that escapes out your mouth shooting up into the sky, nearly taking out some of the Illyrians still swooping overhead. 

A shadow of Rhys’s power slithers into your mind, wrapping around you in a warm embrace. “You can do this. Fight it!”

“Show me what you want,” you insist as Hybern turns his attention away from you to face the High Lords running towards him. They are both powerful swordsmen, but the movements are stiff from years of disuse, their steps faltering as he pushes them back away from you with his own sword.

“He seeks to destroy,” the Cauldron purrs as if the thought makes it happy.

“Not him,” you say through your now chattering teeth. “You. What do you want?”

Rhys roars in pain behind you as Hybern clips his shoulder and Helion rushes to his aid, large broadsword angling for your father’s throat. Hybern catches Helion at the wrist and twists, snapping the Lord’s shoulder in one swift motion.

The Cauldron hums as if thinking. “Destruction is our way…”

“No,” you snarl. “You were once the instrument of life in Prythian! Destruction is not your only way, it is not my only way. If I can do more than kill, if I am more than a monster…” A monster would not have beaten Amarantha, would not have saved your mate, would not have fallen in love. Monsters do not feel, do not love. You brush a mental hand over the bond and draw another steadying breath, even as the cold seeps into your bones; makes your whole body shake. “We do not have to be weapons.”

From the treeline surrounding the ruins of the Temple, more and more of Hybern’s soldiers make it past the aerial units filtering above, clashing with the combined powers of the High Lords. Beron keeps them temporarily at bay with a wall of fire, but you can see the flames wavering, his weathered face pale and slick with sweat. Kallias and Tarquin remain back to back, using their powers to hurl projectiles over the wall of flame, holding steady, even as the sound of the labored breathing floats your way on the wind. They are holding, but it will not last forever. You need to even the playing field. 

“Please. Help me stop him,” you beg. “I will give you whatever you want.”

“I like this new game,” the Cauldron purrs.

The flow of power between you and it has not faltered, you keep pulling more and more of it in as it continues to take it back. Your knees give out beneath you, hands still fused to the lip as a cold sweat beads off your forehead. 

“Please,” you rasp. “Tell me what you want!”

Beron goes down with an arrow in the chest, his limp body collapsing into the earth so hard you feel the tremble of the impact. The Cauldron chuckles beneath your palms, still delighting in the destruction. 

“Helion!” Rhys roars as Hybern drives his sword across the Lord of Day’s stomach, his own blade swinging at Hybern’s neck.

You give the Cauldron a shake, “Come on! This can’t be what you want!” 

Rhys takes an elbow to the nose, blood spattering as Hybern outmaneuvers him, and barely manages to throw himself out of the way of the following strike, the blade leaving a gash in his fighting leathers. From overhead, Cassian spies the fight and angles himself away from his troops to come help, but it feels as if he’s moving in slow motion. Somehow, whether it’s the Cauldron’s power or the bond, you know something is about to be very, very wrong.

You grit your teeth, claws digging into the metal of the Cauldron and pull, skin peeling away as you get a hand off the lip to blast as much power as you can in Hybern’s direction. If the Cauldron will not help you, you will do this yourself. Nothing is going to take your mate from you ever again.

Cassian banks hard to avoid the blast, his cursing just audible over Hybern’s screaming. You’d known, just by the feel of it within your chest that this kind of power would be lethal, but watching as it burns through flesh and muscle, leaving nothing but exposed, stark white bone is enough to make your stomach rise into your throat. 

Hybern’s sword turns to ash in his skeletal hand, still raised above Rhys’s head in what would have been a killing blow. It’s nothing but bone all the way down to his shoulder, chunks of his armor blasted away, bits of blistered skin visible from where the blast had gone a little wide. A little to the left and you would have taken him and Rhys out. 

Your father gapes at you, more nightmare now than male.

“This is more fun than a bargain,” the Cauldron purrs. Perhaps it has been corrupted beyond repair, perhaps it can only be good when wielded by the right creature. Perhaps only the Mother had managed to tame the magic within and had left it an empty shell of what could have been.

You stop trying to take anything from it, and when you do, it lets your other hand free without injury. You slump against the altar as Rhys drives his sword through Hybern’s throat. Blood gurgles from his lips, eyes vacant and staring at the Cauldron as if in one final plea for help, before he falls face down in the grass.

The chaos that ensues in the next couple minutes feels like a fever dream as the Night Court’s forces drive the rest of Hybern’s away. Tarquin rushes to Helion, hands glowing in a strange light as the Spell-Cleaver instructs him on how to use his water magic to heal the gaping wound in his stomach. There is no saving Beron, Thesan confirms from where the dead man lies. 

Rhys rushes to your side, where you remain slumped against the Cauldron, eyes blurry as the world spins around you. He cups your face, gently tapping at your cheeks. “Hey, hey, stay with me! You’re ok. You did it!”

You lean your face into his touch, “Don’t suppose you know how to get rid of this thing, huh?”

The Cauldron hisses in response. 

He laughs, half-delirious with relief as he kisses your nose, your cheeks, your forehead. “We won! It’s over.”

It’s over.

You touch your forehead to his, body heavy, but laughing now yourself. “We did it!”

Azriel and Cassian come running as soon as it’s clear to do so, wings tucked tight behind them. “Everybody ok?”

Rhys kisses you, his lips still bloody, but you don’t have it in you to care as you return it. It is finally over; you are more than ok.

------

You watch the sunset across a glittering horizon, the warm rays bouncing off the rolling waves lapping at your ankles. The sand is warm beneath your feet, a supernatural ward keeping the water cool instead of frozen like it should be this time of year. 

Footsteps sound behind you, the only warning you get before strong arms wrap around your waist. Your mate’s breath warm against your skin as he kisses your neck. “Enjoying the view?”

Any sight with sunlight is a luxury, you savor every wisp of wind, every ray of sunshine against your still pale skin. It will be awhile before either of you get any color back.

“More so now that you’re here,” you say with a grin as he places another kiss on your cheek. 

He’d wanted to go straight back to the Night Court, but the matter of the Cauldron still remained. Eventually the High Lords, and the newly crowned Eris, had decided it needed to be returned to its resting place with the nephilim Miriam and her husband Drakon, who had suffered heavy losses when Hybern had marched through and stolen it. Under Helion’s instructions, the Cauldron’s legs had once again been cleaved and separated, and in doing so, the ancient artifact had finally, blissfully, gone silent. Rhys, long standing friends with Miriam and Drakon, had offered to take this piece back before returning home. It seemed only fitting that you followed to ensure no one else attempted to wield it.

“This doesn’t feel real,” you say after a moment of silence, only the crashing of the waves between the two of you.

Rhys settles against your back, body sturdy and warm. His pulse against you should be enough to convince you that this isn’t a dream, but you’re still waiting for something else to jump out from behind the rocks dotting the landscape and surprise you. Any minute now the dream will crumble and once again, stone walls will cover every inch of your surroundings.

“We’re out,” Rhys promises.

You wait, expecting to hear heels clicking against stone or a buzzing of a collar against your throat. It’s a miracle you can stand in the water at all without feeling your throat close up. 

You lace your fingers with his, holding them tight where he rests them against your stomach. “We’re out,” you whisper.

Cassian and Azriel had come along, their boots heavy against the fine sand as they approach. 

“We leaving or what?” Cassian asks.

Azriel punches him hard in the shoulder. “I thought I told you to give them a minute!”

“They’ve had plenty of minutes, any longer they’re gonna start making out, and I, for one, would like to be somewhere far away before that happens.” Cassian returns.

“It’s like dealing with toddlers,” Rhys whispers in your ear.

You release his hand so you can turn in his arms, palms flat against his chest. Most of the damage inflicted during the fight is healed, though there is still some bruising around his eyes from his broken nose. It’s unfair that he’s still the most beautiful male you’ve ever seen, even with the bruising. 

“You know you’ve missed their antics.”

He grins, violet eyes glittering like a thousand stars and you promise yourself you’ll do anything to keep that look on his face. There has been enough pain and grief to last the rest of your lives.

“That I have,” he admits.

“Then we should probably get the little Illyrian baby back before he gets hungry,” you retort.

“Hey!” Cassian scoffs.

Rhys hums his approval as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. “I do have some bargains to fulfill, after all.”

You glance down at your bandage covered hands as if you can see the lack of ink there, the destroyed bond still tender, even now. 

He draws his hand up to give yours a squeeze, before bringing it to his lips. “Broken or not, I intend to keep it.”

“We could make some new ones I’m sure,” you muse.

“Can we please leave?” Cassian whines. 

Rhys ignores him, eyes glinting in challenge. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, I seem to recall a few suggestions you had…”

His lips are on yours again, hungry and wanting and the tether between you burns hot. “I’ll make as many bargains as you’d like, Darling.”

“Home first,” you force yourself to pull away and say, because if you keep letting him kiss you like that, neither of you will be leaving the beach. 

He grins, shoulders rolling back, and from behind him a set of massive, bat-like wings appear. You gape, even as your head spins with the recollection that you had once thought there was something missing between the gaps of the tattoos on his back. The leathery membrane stretches out behind him like one would stretch their arms, fluttering slightly in the evening breeze. 

You reach out a hand to give them a inquisitory touch and he swings them out of reach. “Not here,” he purrs in your ear.

Before you can ask why, he sweeps you up into his arms and launches into the sky. You toss your arms around his neck and squeeze your eyes shut as your stomach lurches into your throat.

“It’s more enjoyable if your eyes are open, Darling,” he laughs, wings beating hard to catch the right draft that will take you to the Night Court.

“I like to keep my stomach where it belongs, but thanks,” you mutter, burying your face in his neck to hide from the wind. 

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights?” He teases.

“Heights? No. Falling? Yes,” you return.

“You know I’d never drop you,” he says in all seriousness.

You let out a huff of annoyance, because damn him, his right and you know it. After everything, there is still no safer place to be than in your mate’s arms. You open one eye, then the other, and take a shaky breath before finally turning your head to the side to see the vast expanse of open sky around you. 

The sun has slowly set, the sky awash in purples and blues as the first bit of stars appear in the sky. Rhys tilts and dips around the fluffiest clouds you’ve ever seen in your life, but you can’t help yourself from removing your arm from around his shoulders to try and touch one. They’re a lot more wet than you anticipated them being. 

“I never thought I’d see this again,” Rhys whispers.

You kiss his cheek, flooding the bond with as much warmth as you can. It’ll be easier, once you’ve fully accepted it, and you plan to, once things are a little more settled. It would be a lot for him to return home to, you want to give him some time to just be home before tackling a new heightened sense of emotions and all that comes with being mated, but you already have a few ideas on how you want to go about it. For now, you’ll keep this thing between you simple and not overwhelming. 

“Thank you, for getting us out,” he says.

“I didn’t do that much,” you reply. “We did it together.”

“It was all you,” he returns. “I think that collar messed up your memories a little.”

“My memories are fine,” you retort with an eye roll, even though he can’t see it. “We did it together, as we planned to. As we’ll do with whatever comes next.”

He grins as he follows a draft downwards, three mountain peaks coming into view. Somehow, you can feel in your chest when you cross the border, as if you very bones know that this is where you’re meant to be. He glides lower, letting you view the snow flecked landscape beneath you, grinning as he takes in the way you devour his court with your eyes. “Welcome to the Night Court.”

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Kimcom time travels force feed Kim Dokja love:

1.

This is that one fic that will make you cry and smile at the same time. It is one of the crackiest angst I have ever read. It is a fic that made me so happy, yet so terribly sad. But all in all, this is a fic that will make you laugh. And make you remember/ fall in love with the characters all over again. It's a wip sadly, but each chapter is so damn lovely, that I just keep going back and read over and over again.

2.

This is a soft, soft fic, it's also the fic that made me fall in love with damn premise of Kim Dokja getting love before the apocalypse. It is a fic about dokja realizing that he is loved. It is a fic that I wish to see completed one day — but I doubt it would be 😭 but the chapters that are out are again, very satisfying. And I loved it.

3.

“You are loved,” said Yoo Jonghyuk. “This is a threat,” said Yoo Jonghyuk.

This is a fic that is already really popular but this is a fic I'd recommend people to read after finishing the epilogue. Because it is gives you those soft fuzzy feelings, it sews back the torn heart that is caused by the actual book and it makes you believe in everything that is good in the world. This is fic where everyone is happy and Dokja is with them. And basically everything I ever wanted.

(these are sadly the only fics I remember reading with the premise of kimcom going back to the past 😭 but yeah they made an impression on me and I don't think I can recover.)

Moving on to the fics I'd recommend after the reading the novel as in post-epilogue:

Post-epilogue fics to heal your heart:

This is a fic I would recommend a 100 times over to anyone who would listen. This is the first fic I ever bookmarked, even after having an ao3 for YEARS, first fic I ever commented and in general one of my most favorite fic to ever written. This is a fic that healed me, that made me remember everything about I loved omniscient reader, that made me so happy that I have no words. To me, this fic is the epilogue they all got, the happy ending they deserved and it will always be canon to my mind. The way the writer wrote all of them made me cry and I'd always forever be grateful that this fic was written.

This fic is also every healing, and it hurts so damn good. The way the author build up the emotions, kimcom bonding and literally everything. The way the author writes their relationship and the way Dokja perceives them. This fic deserves so much more recognition. It is beautiful and it's also very healing. And soft with harsh edges that is soothed as you keep reading. It's basically Kim Dokja getting to learn love without his memories, it's about baby dokja healing and it is about kimcom being desperate to teach dokja that he isn't alone.

This is just soft, soft and soft. This is just fluffy, this is just what they all deserve. This is another fic that deserves so much more. This is just another dose of happiness, to read when you're having a bad day. The way the author writes the relationship between each characters, the slow healing, the love that comes so easy between them because they went through the end of the world together is fucking beautiful.

I bookmarked this on September 2022 and I still cry when I re-read it. This is a beautiful piece of how healing takes time, and how hard learning to love yourself can be and how beautiful this fic is and how I'd always hold it close to my heart no matter what. This piece also deserves so much more. This is a fic about how even after reaching the end, healing can seem out of reach. It is a fic about patience and love and just beautiul.

This is again another fic that deserves so much. This is such a beautiful depictions how healing hurts. How it is a long damn road and sometimes you might stumble and it is hard. It might be a long road but when you finally begin healing and when you learn to finally trust — isn't that the most beautiful thing ever?

I'm surprised this fic isn't more popular honestly. This is one of the fics that depicts how ugly healing. And how it is so painful painful painful when the person you love more than the world itself doesn't realize their worth and they still try. And also joonghyuk has a garden????!!!! This fic is wrapped up so beautifully and leaves on such a hopeful note. It's written really well, and the characters are so beautiful, so damn real.

-

(ANYWAYS I'll just rec these one's for now LMAO I mostly tried to rec underrated ones bc they are hidden gems, and they deserve love too. I'll make a separate post for orv Isekai/alternate world/modern world fics that needs more love because there's A LOT underrated gems. This post is mostly dedicated to @rozz-eokkk @cielelyse ; since they asked for it and I'm so sorry it took so long 😭 )

[deathblacksmoke]

Dramamine—Part 10

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Nick Ruffilo

Series Summary: Cynical, brooding bartender Nick meets too-earnest, pretty boy singer Noah when The Rabbit's Foot starts hosting an open mic night.

CW: light angst, brief crying, self-doubt, mostly just fluffy cute boy things, oral sex (m receiving)

*Content warnings are updated by chapter*

Word Count: 2.5K

Author's Note: final part before the epilogue <3 huge thank you to everyone who's read and enjoyed this little series and massive thank you to my friends for their support, brainstorming, handholding, etc.

dividers by @cafekitsune 💐

He feels a little silly being so nervous about this. The hard part should be over — he’s already gotten Noah back — but tonight feels daunting. As he stands outside Noah’s door with a bag full of groceries, he feels shaky on his feet and afraid to knock.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he reaches for it, happy to kill time and put this off. It has a bit of the opposite effect, though, when he sees it’s from Autumn.

He had to beg her to let them have the apartment to themselves for the evening. He’ll owe her for ages, and he’s reminded that Noah’s probably behind the door sulking about being left alone on a Friday night.

I can see you on the doorbell camera. Don’t be weird.

When the door swings open before he’s even done knocking and Noah’s on the other side of it, everything settles. Nick doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the way Noah’s gaze can ease his nerves so simply.

“What are you doing here?” Noah asks, stepping aside to let Nick in without a second thought. He doesn’t seem at all unhappy about Nick’s arrival, and a gentle hand on Nick’s arm stops him from moving far past the entryway. He sighs into it when Noah brings their lips together, feeling his lips curl up into a smile against his own.

“I was going to make us a nice dinner,” Nick responds. He can’t stop himself from leaning back in for another kiss when Noah’s eyes light up. “Treat you to a proper first date.”

His nerves kick up again as he lets Noah lead him into the kitchen. He’s not used to this, and he’s so out of practice. He’s certainly no chef, but Noah fixes him with the sweetest look when he hops up onto the counter, pleased to be in Nick’s way the entire time. There’s nothing in him that wants to be annoyed, or feel inconvenienced. Instead he feels an unbearable warmth in his chest as he starts unloading the bags, avoiding eye contact for the fear his face is beet red with the adoration he holds for this boy.

“So, what are you making me?” Noah asks, legs swinging like a child.

“Here, taste this,” Nick says, offering the spoon to Noah, who accepts it gratefully. He makes a pleased little sound and Nick feels his stomach swoop. “It’s good?”

It’s not a complicated sauce, just a basic marinara he found online, but he loves making Noah happy. He loves how easy he is to please, although he wishes he had to try a little harder.

“Really good, Nicky,” Noah responds, scooting closer on the counter as if he doesn’t mind being in the middle of everything. He’s very much in the way but Nick can’t find it in himself to mind, not when he gets to have Noah this close.

Satisfied that their dinner is mostly done, he starts unloading the other bag — mint, lime, sugar, club soda, white rum, and his shaker. 

When he looks over at Noah, there’s a confused expression painted on his face.

“What’s all this for?” Noah asks.

“Thought I’d make mojitos,” Nick responds, suddenly feeling shy, a little unsure. Maybe the moment hadn’t made as much of an impression on Noah as it had on Nick. “Can you grab me some ice?”

Noah’s face shifts from confusion to self-satisfaction. Nick wants to roll his eyes, but he can’t. He’s too pleased that he made Noah happy.

“I’m not making you a mojito, pretty boy,” Noah mocks — Nick does roll his eyes then.

“Well, that was before,” he reasons. He leans over for a kiss on the cheek. He just can’t help it. “Ice, please?”

The plates lay forgotten on the coffee table. Noah seems happy, sated, resting himself on Nick with his half-finished second mojito in hand. Nick feels an all-consuming calm, like he wouldn’t mind staying here with him, on his sofa, for as long as Noah wants him.

“Oh, I got you something,” Noah says, eyes suddenly wide and sparkling as he lifts his head from Nick’s shoulder. “Well, I found something I think you might like. Do you want it?” 

He can’t imagine saying no to him, not when he’s this excited and fidgety. He finds himself nodding, giving a small smile before Noah is up and disappearing into his bedroom. 

Noah’s nerves are evident when he comes back out, holding something small in his hand. Nick feels himself getting nervous, too, but he puts on a brave face for Noah. Noah seems to settle, at least a little bit, when he meets Nick’s eyes. 

Without sitting back down, he holds his hand out, presenting it to Nick. 

“For your Jasmine box,” Noah says, shifting back and forth on his feet. There’s a long moment that Nick just stares at Noah’s hands, and when he looks up at him, his eyes are wide with something less like excitement and more like terror. Nick places a soothing hand on Noah’s thigh, telling him it’s okay, before taking the item from his hand.

It’s a photograph he hasn’t seen before, but he remembers the moment so vividly. It was Autumn’s 30th birthday, when she had come up to them with her disposable camera, drunk and stumbling, and told the two of them to pose. It was so shortly before it all went bad, but everything was still so good then. Jazz hadn’t hesitated before grabbing his face and planting a kiss on his cheek for the camera. He’d felt warm everywhere. If he tries, he can still feel her lips on his skin.

“Noah,” he breathes, feeling tears prick at his eyes but not wanting to scare him off. He doesn’t know what to do, whether to break down in front of him or just hug him and say thank you. He doesn’t know where to find the words for how grateful he feels.

“Aut found it in her room when she was cleaning up. I asked her if I could give it to you,” Noah tells him, somehow more shy than before as he sinks to the floor in front of Nick, placing a shaky hand on Nick’s knee. There’s a look in his eyes more hopeful than he’s ever seen, and all Nick knows to do is reach out for him. “Is it okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” Nick responds, taking Noah’s hand in his and intertwining their fingers. “Can you come up here for me, please?”

There's bravery in Noah when he rises from the floor. Though unsteady on his feet, he still lowers himself into Nick’s lap. Instinctually, Nick places a hand on his lower back, drawing him closer.

“Jasmine was really important to Autumn while I was gone. I’m really grateful she had someone,” Noah says, voice quivering. Nick doesn’t stop himself this time from reaching out, wiping the few fallen tears from Noah’s cheeks. “I wish I could have known her better.”

There’s something in his eyes when Nick brushes away the few strands of hair that have fallen in Noah’s face. He can spot a distant sadness in his expression, a downturn at the edges of his mouth. He presses his fingers into Noah’s sides, needing to see that smile and delighting in it when he gets it.

“You’re really something, aren’t you?” Nick asks, a little amazed when he allows himself to think about it. He never imagined he’d find himself in this position again — another chance, deserving of something so wonderful, someone so wonderful. Noah buries his face in his neck and it warms Nick from the inside out. “How did I get so lucky, huh?”

Noah squirms a little in his lap and it jostles something awake in him. Kisses are pressed to his neck and he swoons, sinks back into the couch as he pulls Noah as close as possible.

His mind takes him back to the last time he was on his couch, the way that Noah had treated him so nice, the way Nick had abandoned him because of it. He’s done his best to fix this, but there’s still that one piece that’s so wholly unrepaired. He doesn’t know that he’d be able to stand it, if the scenario had been reversed. He hates to put so much weight on what had happened, yet there’s a stomach-turning guilt when he envisions the weeks that Noah sat on this couch with the memory of what Nick had done.

He slips his hand beneath Noah’s t-shirt, grazes his knuckles along the expanse of his skin. When the scarred skin of Nick’s knuckles meets the ultra-soft skin of Noah’s middle, it’s not quite as scary as it had been, letting Noah see all of him. He finds he wants himself to be seen, to be known. There’s a nagging, vibrating something beneath his skin, but he lets himself push it away this time.

Noah’s hand cupping his cheek brings him back into the moment. Noah’s lips on his set a fire beneath his skin. He needs to fix this — he needs to repair this one final thing.

“Noah,” Nick breathes, dragging his palms down over Noah’s thighs, fingertips dancing toward the waistband of his sweats. His eyes sparkle, and God, Nick would do anything to keep those eyes clear and bright and on him. “Baby— baby, can I?”

The nerves evident on Noah’s face do little to calm the ones bubbled up in Nick, but the small, barely-there nod he’s given before Noah leans in for another kiss gives him the answer he needs. 

His hands are shaky as they inch under Noah’s waistband, as he finally gets his hands on the soft skin there, like he’s been dreaming of all this time.

He loses himself to it, time slowing as they kiss. He could stay happy like this, hands wandering over every inch of skin he can find, roasting hot everywhere Noah touches him. Noah’s pretty little gasp as Nick’s fingers drag across his cock bring him back to reality.

He vibrates with nervous energy as he pulls Noah’s face away from his own, hand cupping Noah’s cheek and entranced by how glassy his eyes already are.

“Can I do something for you?” Nick asks, to which he receives a shaky nod in return. “You wanna hop up for me, love?”

Noah’s quick to do as he’s asked and it sets a fire alight in him, a need to make this good for him. He gets on his knees between Noah’s legs and his nerves kick up. He’s so out of practice, but he’s sure in his actions when he slides Noah’s sweats down over his hips. He looks up at him, not sure what he’s looking for in his gaze, but gaining confidence when Noah gives him a nod, threading his fingers through his hair.

His head empties — everything he’s ever known about being with someone is gone, because this isn’t just someone, this is Noah. He loses himself in the expanse of bare skin he’s presented with, all so new to him. He can’t help it as he lets his hands wander, fingertips grazing Noah’s tummy, his thighs, laser-focused on the way he tenses and relaxes beneath Nick’s touch. He has to do something, but finds himself so transfixed with everything he never thought he’d get to have.

He carries his mind back to the last time he was here, when he was on this couch and Noah was so polite and pretty on his knees between Nick’s spread legs. He tries to replicate it — his hand wraps loosely around Noah and the whimper he receives makes his vision blur.

He can’t keep his eyes off Noah as he sinks his mouth onto him. Maybe he wants to keep himself grounded in this moment, or maybe he wants to memorize every little shift in Noah’s expression. As much as he wants to let himself get lost in it, he can’t look away.

Where Nick’s hand rests on Noah’s thigh, Noah’s hand rests centimeters away, twitching fingers as if he’s itching to close that gap. Nick’s gaze shifts between Noah’s face, the anxiety in his expression, and his trembling hand. He knows Noah is nervous, scared to close that gap — Nick can’t blame him, not after last time.

He closes the gap himself, slides his fingers under Noah’s and feels as everything in Noah relaxes. His rhythm falters, only for a moment, as he considers how he wants this to continue.

He wants to be here, on his knees, a small consolation for what he did the last time Noah did the same for him. But as he allows himself to look at Noah, at his glassy eyes and his pretty open mouth, he needs to be closer. They’re touching, but not nearly enough. He needs to kiss him, to blanket him, to taste his gasp as he finishes over his tummy and Nick’s fingers.

As if able to read Nick’s mind, Noah gives his hand a gentle tug. When Nick meets his eyes, there’s a glint that Nick reads a little like desperation. He’s sure it’s the same desperation he feels.

He doesn’t take his hand off of Noah as he stands, scrambling into Noah’s lap and regaining his rhythm. Noah presses their mouths together and Nick is quick to lick into his mouth, slapping his hand away when Noah goes for the button on his pants.

“No, just—” Nick starts, taking a deep breath and resetting when it’s clear his actions are about to be misread. He cups his hand over Noah’s face, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, a smile into his cheek. “Just let me do this for you, yeah? I just want this to be for you.”

Noah nods, losing himself in their kiss again, bucking his hips gently into Nick’s grasp. He can feel it, in the way he tenses, in the way his thrusts go a little sloppy and uncoordinated.

He catches the pretty gasp on his tongue when Noah rushes to lift his shirt up as his cum spills over Nick’s fingers and onto his belly.

As Noah catches his breath, Nick busies himself looking around for anything to clean him up with that wouldn’t require detaching himself. He lands only on the cloth napkins they used for dinner, and he knows Autumn would make him buy an entire new set.

“We should go get you cleaned up,” he says instead, though the idea of getting up and having any space between them sounds dreadful.

“In a second,” Noah responds, his hand curling around the back of Nick’s neck to draw him in for a kiss, stopping just short to mutter against his lips. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

Nick can’t think of anything he wants more, nodding as he lets Noah pull him the rest of the way in.

tagging: @concretenoah @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @agravemisstake

@monotoniscreaming @cookiesupplier @bngurngheart @jiizzy @screamsinsilver

@iknownothingpeople @iknownothingpeople @anameunmusical @sitkowski @baddestomens

@itsafullmoon @collapsedglasshouses @somebodyels3 @broken0mens

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (EPILOGUE 2)

Into the future, part I

MASTERLIST

Summary: Twelve more years had gone by, and you travel South to attend a celebration in King’s Landing with all of your children

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, implied smut, talk about war, implied sexual assault, bullying, fluff, and a bit of angst, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.2 k

Notes: HERE IT IS! A while ago I published that I had written a fluffy but heartbreaking scene, AND IT IS IN THIS CHAPTER!!!! Sorry for the long wait though! HAHA, but it is here. RHAENYRA HAD HER VISENYA! SURPRISE!  * GO TO THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE TO SEE THE AGES OF CHARACTERS IN THIS CHAPTER*

12 years later

You were certain that you had given birth to the most handsome young men in all of Westeros. Rickon was handsome, like his father, rough on his features but in a classic way, but Jonaerys? He was beautiful. 

His silver curly hair, his sharp eyes with the color of ice, his beauty was ethereal 

Your youngest children still had their child features, it was too soon to tell, but to you, they were all beautiful, the most gorgeous children Westeros had ever seen, but perhaps you were being biased 

That is what occupied your thoughts in your long journey South

You had left your home two weeks ago, and you were too soon, if not by the end of the day, to reach Harrenhal. You had been invited to the Red Keep, it was unclear why, but you had heard tourneys and celebrations were being held, not clear as to the reason, perhaps you, to celebrate you all being in the capital. Perhaps we all need a good reason to celebrate besides marriages, births, and name days

You had decided to take all your children with you, leaving Sara, and her three kids in Winterfell, because there was always must be a Stark in the capital of the North

You saw your children riding their horses in front of you, Cregan and you in the back, he had said that is the position the alfa wolves held, in the back, protecting his pack from this perspective, the thought made you giggle.

Soon it was time to set up camp, when you rived, the squires and soldiers had already set the tents and a big bonfire for your entire household.

You descended from your horse, as did your children.

Rickon was stuck to his father’s side, who was trying to teach him everything he could, you knew it was a concern of Cregan, he was getting “old”, not to you of course, but, he was growing concerned that his eldest son wasn’t ready in case something horrible befall him. 

“When we get back Cregan, you are going to marry Jayne Manderly”, said his father, Rickon only nodded

“I had been betrothed to Jayne Manderly since we were in our mother’s wombs”, he laughed, Cregan smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder, and then one in Jonaerys who approached him. 

“You were”, he said proudly, “and you…”, he chuckled, looking at his second oldest son, “maybe we can arrange something for you in King’s Landing, uh?”, he blushed but nodded

“Yes father”, he said energetically. He wanted to make his father proud, but really… still with the doubts clouding his mind

Cregan looked at Jonaerys, trying to read his mind, but it was hard, he had notice that the last couple of months, his silver haired son had been distant, specially with him, he sometimes found him following you around like a puppy, it was unusual as he always was with Rickon, training, hunting, sneaking off to Winter’s Town… He talked to you about it and you did answer him that you did think something was different in him, like he became overprotective over you, but you guessed it was because of the coming trip. 

Cregan smiled as he saw Torrhen signaling to Rhaenys what they were talking about, his big brother’s coming wedding

“You are never getting married are you? you are never leaving your old man”, Cregan signaled to Rhaenys, the girl only giggled, “my little girl, you are going to take care of your old father until I’m gone?”, she shook her head without stopping smiling, and Cregan feigned being really hurt, placing a hand over his chest

“I want to get married”, the twelve year old girl signaled, and that did break Cregan heart just a little bit, no poor bastard is ever going to be good enough for his little girls. 

“Robyn!”, he called, her little girl who was your spitting image, but with his coloring came running towards him

“I’ll take care of you papa!”, she giggled 

“That’s my girl”, he knew the real reason she said that is because she didn’t want to get married at all, she was very vocal about that, she was his little spitfire

The sun soon fell over the camp, and once you were installed in your tents, you gathered around the bonfire to eat what the hunting party had brought 

Were you concerned about the trip to the Red Keep? Yes, you know better than anyone how terrible it could be, how mean the people were, but you needed to think that now it was different, different times, different monarchs. 

And your children were… different from who you were, you needed to believe they were going to be fine. 

And at night you cuddled with your husband in your tent, playing with the silver hairs in his beard, he was getting snow up there if you knew what that meant

He believed he was getting old, but to you he was only more and more handsome 

“Mmmm”, he purred under your touch, “really, needy one?”, he chuckled

“I’m the needy one?”, you teased

“Oh I know how you get on trips”, you laughed 

“me!?”, you laughed

“Oh yeah, Rickon was made in dragonstone, Torrhen when we went to White Harbor… Orys on that trip to Bear Island, the girls on Castle Black… when we went to try to fly over the wall…”, you giggled 

“Well, there is this thing to trips…”, he chuckled

“That our children cannot sneak into our bed”, you giggled

You kissed, deeply.

There was something about trips that turned you on…

The very next day, you rose early, you were close to King’s landing and you wanted to arrive already. You were proud of how well your children were fairing, you brought a carriage just in case, but they preferred to ride their horses alongside you. 

You braided Rhaenys’ hair, and with Robyn too, by your side. You kissed the side of her head lovingly, you loved your girls

“I can’t wait to get to the big castle”, signaled Rhaenys, and Robyn only cheered her on, you only smiled, “are they more dragons?”, you nodded

“There is Syrax, the Queen’s dragon, there is Vermax, prince Jacaerys dragon there is Caraxes, the King consort Dragon”

As on que, your dragons flied over your heads

Rickon’s dragon never hatched, but Jonaerys’, Rhaenys’, Robyn, Torrhen… they did. Cregan grew scared, five dragons growing in the North

And all your children became Dragonriders

Rhaenys’ especially at Cregan’s horror, since he believed she wasn’t going to be able to control ehr beast, but she did, better than all of them, she had a secret language, palming her dragon’s spine with certain gestures.

Her dragon was beautiful, silvery light blue with dark blue markings, slim body and long neck, she was the fastest one.

Not like Karnax, Jonaerys’ dragon that took after Vhaelar, only with dark black markings, Robyn’s dragon was deep purple, they shone greenish under the sunlight, and Torrhen’s was of a beautiful copper color

Soon the march began again, and by midday, the burnt towers of Harrenhal appeared in your eyesight, you tried no to look too much, painful memories came flooding back, and Cregan reached for you over the space between your horses.

“Are you alright?”, he whispered, you only nodded

“Let’s have some food and then let’s keep going”, you whispered. Since the war the castle had been empty, since the fall of house Strong, so you really didn’t have the need to pass inside it to pay your respects, only warn ahead of the arrival of a large northerner commitive. 

So you tried to distract yourself from such gloomy sights.

But your son… noticed everything, noticed your face, what Cregan said to you… and that only made him approach his father, with the castle on their sight

“Who is my real father?”, he asked hastily, like he was going to lose the bravery to ask. That did take Cregan by surprise, he knew something was different about his son, but he never, ever, expected it to be this. 

“I am”, he said, but the seriousness in his eyes revealed to your son that he knew what he spoke of

“Yes, of course you are, I mean…”, his voice trembled and he struggled to meet his eyes, he closed his gray ones, “I mean that… we were studying the civil war of the Targaryens”, he explained, “and how Aemond Targaryen took my mom”, he whined, “took her south and when you both returned, you came back with me”, he whispered, looking at the feet of the man that raised him and loved him, the man that he respected and loved

“My boy…”

“Mom suffered in his hands, did she not?”, he asked, finally looking up at him, “I am not deaf”, he said sadly, “I know what they whisper behind closed doors, I know what Aemond Targaryen did to my mom”

“She did”, he said truthfully, “but that doesn’t mean anything, we, her family, erased everything he did to her, we made sure of it, we healed her with our love, her children… are everything to her”

“I know, but…”, he took a second to think about what he was about to say, “I know you are my father, the man that cares for me and loves me, but, I wonder if the man that sired me… was Aemond Targaryen?”, he rephrased his question, looking into his father’s eyes

“No”, he said truthfully

“Father…”

“Your mother was already pregnant when I left to fight the war”, he said gently, “you have my eyes…”

“But what if…”, Cregan shushed him gently, cradling his face with his hands and looking into his eyes 

“I see myself in you every day and every time I look into your eyes I see your mother, you take after her”, he said gently, “we might never know who sired you but you are our son, my son, my second born male heir”, he said firmly, “you are a northerner, a wolf of Winterfell”

“I’m glad you are my father”, he said with shiny eyes and a choked voice

“And I’m glad you are MY son”, Cregan held his son against his chest, caressing his silvery locks, “and besides, I claimed you the minute you were born”, he felt his son choke in a laugh, “you are mine, I fought for you, and if he wants you he will need to crawl back from hell and kill me”, Jonaerys laughed, hugging his father tightly, and he kissed him in the top of your head, “you are mine, there is no doubt in my mind”

“Thank you”

You looked from afar with tears of happiness in your eyes, you did not hear everything, but you were happy they were this close.  

The rest of the journey went in without a hitch, Rhaenys was drawing everything she saw, when you stopped to rest, Robyn was sneaking out of the camp to go hunting with Rickon, Jonaerys and the rest of the men, Torrhen also scribbled in his leather notebook, and Orys, well, he was often a thoughtful boy, always wondering, looking around, lost in his thoughts, he collected rocks, branches of trees he had never seen before, and also leaves…making you smile.

And soon you could hear your children's gasps and cheers, as Rhaenys applauded, you could see King’s Landing, in all its glory, and the two greatest buildings that stood up from everything else, the Dragonpit and the Red Keep

“It’s incredible!”, cheered Rickon

“Wow”

“Look at the size of the Dragonpit”, of course you had tell them stories about the historic buildings, but there are no words to describe them in all their glory 

A comitive of royal soldiers were expecting you, dressing all in black and red, and a sense of familiarity invaded you. The late Queen Alicent had taken everything she could get her hands on, and for some time, everything you saw was green, and a seven pointed star, now everywhere you saw, there were statues of dragons, the Targaryen heraldry, and the colors red, black and gold also. 

You soon rode through the streets, soldiers interrupting everyone’s day to let you trough

When you entered through the huge gates of the outer wall of the Red Keep, you saw a comitive waiting for you, you recognized Rhaenyra herself, and Daemon, Jacaerys and Baela by his side, and young people, everyone was there, Young Aegon and Viserys, other young men with olive skin and silver hair, right next to Jacaerys, you guessed it was his son. A young woman, you guessed it, was princess Visenya. Lord Corlys was also present in the meeting. 

*See bottom of the page for the ages of everyone in this chapter* 

“Here comes Cregan of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North and his lady Wife, princess (y/n) Targaryen, and their children, the lords and ladies of the North, Rickon Stark, your son bowed as you taught him, “Jonaerys”, your other son followed, “Torrhen, Orys, and the ladies Rhaenys and Robyn”, and your girls bowed diligently

“My niece”, certainly bored with all of this, Daemon approached you and hugged you tightly 

And since the courtesy was over, you greeted your family like that is all they were, your family, you hugged your cousin the Queen lovingly 

“I’m so glad you are here”, she whispered

“I’m happy to see you all again”, you said back

“let me look at you boy, how big you’ve gotten”, Daemon said, looking at Jonaerys, who had grown to be the imagine of your father 

Corlys looked from afar with a smile on his lips, as he looked at the girl who was named in honor of his wife. Everyone in the Keep and in the family knew of her hearing problems. Nobody really cared, she was a beautiful, healthy young girl, he had also learn her sign language to be able to communicate with her, just as other members of her family, she had a fire like his dear Rhenys have had, and she was a dragon rider, he had cared for the girl from afar. 

She caught him staring and smiled brightly at him, she walked towards him and signaled a hello

“Hello little one”, he signaled back and Rhaenys was amazed that he knew how to. 

Jonaerys went to greet Visenya, who smiled at him

“So… you are the Valyrian Stark”, she said, and he blushed

“I didn’t know I was called that”, he chuckled, nervous

“You are sort of famous”, she giggled

“I have done nothing to deserve such a thing”, he said nervously

“Let's see” 

Rickon approach the prince of Dragonstone after his father Jacaerys

“Rickon”, he introduced, offering his hand, and he struck it back

“Baelor”, he answered with a shy smile. 

As it was the custom, a feast was being held, in honor of the guests.

The real reason behind the journey is that it was a plot between Daemon, Cregan, Rhaenyra and you, to let your children get to know each other, and also, because you wanted your children to be in touch with their targaryen ancestry, and maybe, just maybe, search for proposals for marriage for them. 

You saw with a smile as your older children were getting along with Baelor as you chatted with Jace by your side, telling you how his brother Joffrey was in Driftmark and couldn’t make the journey, as he was acting Lord of the Tides, how he had three children with a Velaryon. 

Then Rhaenya made a announcement, that in the celebrations of her name day, a week from now, this entire ten days were going to be filled with tourneys, parties, feasts, and people from all over the Kingdoms, and specially the great houses, were coming to the capital, to celebrate harvest and abundance the Kingdoms were enjoying.

A celebration of hope, friendship and especially peace, and you were here for it. Also to celebrate the name days of your twins, who might as well fly under the perception of the rest, but you still were happy to celebrate it with your entire family.

Your children seemed happy about it, and couldn’t wait to meet new people

Rickon was talking about how he could participate in the tourney, but you and Cregan had blatantly forbidden it, for Jonaerys as well. 

You were happy to be back, you no longer held bad memories about this place, everything felt brand new, and now because of the decor, but, everything felt different, all of it, the castle and the people within it.

this was a new beginning for your family.

The coming days were filled with excitement and preparations, people were arriving. You had the honor to be housed in Maegor’s Holdfast, you needed four rooms for only your family, Rickon and JOnaerys were going to be roomates, as well as Orys with Torrhen, and the twins, down the hall from your’s and Cregan’s rooms 

Everything around the castle had changed, and once you settled it was hard to find your children, who were always discovering new places, it took them three days to even get to know the main places within the Keep itself, they were like small children, scouting all day

But as the girls went to the huge gardens, promising they will not part ways from one another, the boys went deeper within the castle.

And by accident, they ended up in the dungeons

Jonaerys wanted to play the valiant one, and separated from Rickon, and soon he was lost.

This floor of the cells didn’t have guards, but torches were lit up all over, it wasn’t difficult to see, but the awful smell made his head spin. 

He wanted to turn back, but something prevented him, maybe sick curiosity, he would say he heard his name being called from inside one of the cells.

It was closed, but it seemed it was empty, he couldn’t see anyone inside, so he lean in curiously, grabbing one of the bars with his hands.

A boney hand grabbed it, making him gasp in surprise

“My son”, he heard, and Jonaerys screamed, taking a step back, releasing himself from that ghostly grasp, “I knew you’d come”, he whispered, and jOnaerys could see with horror a lean figure, with white hair and a purple eye, and another sapphire, but he was probably making it all up.

He ran, calling for his mother and father, he magically find the way out until he ran and crashed into Rickon, making the two of them fall in the middle of the main floor

“For the gods Jona”, moaned RIckon, rubbing his ass, “what is going on?”, but his brother was on the brink of tears, “what happened?”, but he shook his head

“Nothing, really”, he whined, “it’s just, the people down there, it was awful”, Rickon only nodded

“Are you alright?”, Jonaerys nodded

‘Yes, just… we can never go down there again”

“Deal”

Both stood up, Rickon grabbed his brother’s arm

“Remember the lessons about Aemond Targaryen?”, he asked, and Rickon nodded, he had replaced his missing eye with a sapphire, didn’t he?”

“Yeah”, Jonanerys looked back at the stairs leading to the cells, and shook his head, he could never go down there again. 

Characters and their ages… maybe its just me that is obsessed with this kind of thing haha

Reader and Jace are 36, Cregan: 48, Rhaenyra: 54, Daemon: 67 

Corlys: 76

Rickon: 17, Jonaerys: 16, Torrhen: 14, Orys: 13, Twins: 12

Visenya: 16

Jace and Baela’s son Baelor: 15

Viserys and Aegon: 20 and 17 

Taglist!

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker 

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @​​mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel 

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog

@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @​​trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr @ivvypg @mendes-bae @borikenlove @tssf-imagines @praline357 @alitaar @prettykinkysoul @aelora-a @a-mexican-waffle @ateliefloresdaprimavera @alexa4040 @lrboyd @anditsmywholeheart  @weaselyss  @scarlettqueen190 @deeeeexx @cloudroomblog @dreaming-of-the-reality @yentroucnagol @crazymusicgirl104 @toodlesxcuddles @thanyatargaryen @mxtokko @bellstwd  @elaena-aerrin @glaciuswduo @holb32

[nevertheblood]

Trick or treat!

HIIIIII thank you for the ask <33

I remember that you liked love in the vein 👀 so I bring some WIP from the same royalty AU-verse... technically it is an epilogue to the whole fic but I don't know if I'll ever get so far as to publish everything (there's a lot of fantasy politics shenanigans involving Verlaine and a GREAT deal of angst before we get to happily married adult skk....) so just in case it never makes it out there into the world, here's some fluffy pregchuu smut !!

[NSFW, trans male chuuya, pregnant sex, mentions of improper binding (due to historical setting), probably the soppiest most saccharine nonsense you've ever read in your life but I NEED THEM TO BE HAPPY.... they go through a lot.... that I didn't write yet 😭]

anyways pls enjoy your treat!! happy early halloween 🎃🕸️🍬👻

The servants know by now to leave their chambers well alone at this hour. This time, after the sun has climbed above the horizon but before the bell in the banquet hall sounds for breakfast, is all theirs. As far as they’re concerned, within those precious hours, aeons could pass, their kingdom could rise or fall outside the bedroom door, and they would be none the wiser; lost in their own domain, the wonderland of one another.

Once, when they were much younger, still in the process of learning how to love, Dazai had said I want to kiss you everywhere. When we’re married, I promise I will. The list of Dazai’s sins is probably longer than he would like to admit, but he doesn’t break his promises to Chuuya. Not anymore, not ever again.

Today, Chuuya’s skin is sun-warmed, sweat-salted, and Dazai’s mouth maps the curves and hollows of his body with practiced cleverness.

“Do you know,” Dazai says, his breath a caress on Chuuya’s hipbone, “Why I first fell in love with you?”

“Why?” Chuuya replies, in the half-attentive tone of someone who’s sort of heard this story before but really wouldn’t mind hearing it again. Dazai, of course, indulges him.

“You were always—” he presses a kiss to the place where Chuuya’s hip and thigh meet, and Chuuya shivers, “—so full—” another kiss, this time closer to the inner thigh, “—of life.”

Chuuya laughs quietly. “Is that what you’d call it?” “Obviously.” For once, Dazai’s tone is completely serious. “It can’t have been easy, to find out in your mid-teens that you weren’t what the world had told you you were. But the whole time, you were so… so bright. You burned through the hardship, like a little phoenix. It was beautiful.”

“You had your own hardships,” Chuuya says softly, “And they were very different from mine.” “I know,” Dazai says, “But seeing you… it made me want to live, too. Like you wanted to live.” Chuuya looks at him, from where he’s lying back against the pillows. “This was years ago,” he says. “Why are you telling me this now?” “You are more full of life now than ever,” Dazai answers quietly, before placing the gentlest of kisses on Chuuya’s stomach, “There is life growing in you. And I am so in love with you for it.”

Chuuya reaches out one hand to tangle in Dazai’s hair, teasing out the morning bedhead curls. “It gives you the will to live?” “Something like that.” “You want to know why I fell in love with you?” Dazai props himself up on his hands, holding himself carefully over Chuuya’s body, and shifts upwards on the bed, close enough that Chuuya can kiss his nose, which he does. “Tell me?”

“You like to think of yourself as a terrible person, but you aren’t. You’re actually rather selfless.” “Oh?” Dazai takes Chuuya’s hand where it’s resting next to his head, kisses his fingertips softly. “And what makes you such an impeccable judge of character?” “Despite everything,” Chuuya says, curling his fingers around Dazai’s, “That whole time, you loved me. I felt it so strongly. You hated yourself, you hated this world, so much, but you loved me.” Dazai smiles, a little ruefully. “I think that’s still true, actually.” “Stupid,” Chuuya says, flicking him in the head with one well-aimed finger. “This… almost-life that’s inside me. You put it there, didn’t you?”

Dazai rubs his forehead, disgruntled. “I sure hope it was me. What’s your point?” “You have such capacity for life, you suicidal idiot,” Chuuya says, folding his arms around Dazai’s neck, pulling him in closer, “And I won’t ever let you forget it.” “Enough philosophising, already,” Dazai says, sliding one hand under Chuuya’s thigh, squeezing in a way that makes Chuuya blush bright red, “Wasn’t I busy kissing you?” Chuuya splutters indignantly. “You started the philosophising, asshole.”

“Maybe I did. So what?” Sixteen years they’ve known each other, and Dazai’s favourite hobby is probably still finding new ways to get Chuuya riled up. “Shut up and kiss me before I wring your stupid neck.” Or maybe Dazai’s favourite hobby is kissing Chuuya. The jury is still out. “Gladly.” This time, his lips stay glued to Chuuya’s, while his hands do the wandering, letting his senses remind him of everything so tenderly familiar and everything so painfully new. For one thing, Chuuya is binding less frequently, these days, the changes in his body making everything just this side of too painful, and the tangible, ever-present lines on his skin around his ribs and underarms normally left by the press of the bandages are less noticeable to the touch. He’s put weight on, too, which he gripes about but Dazai adores, the way the smooth flesh around Chuuya’s waist, hips, thighs, dips and yields like warm clay under Dazai’s hands, every angle of his body turning softer, rounder.

Dazai is no cartographer, despite the hours his father and Kunikida had spent trying to teach him, but he’d gladly make a thousand charts of the topography of Chuuya’s body, his index and middle finger his compass, measuring each line and curve in perfect design.  His hand pauses at Chuuya’s bare hip, silently questioning. Chuuya seems to hear his request and parts his legs just a little, allowing his husband’s exacting hands to slide between his spread thighs. “Chuuya,” Dazai says, the name a sigh against their kiss, “First thing in the morning and you’re already so wet for me.”

“I dreamed of you,” Chuuya says, voice a little floaty like he’s still halfway in the dream itself. “Yeah?” Dazai teases him, fingertips circling where he knows Chuuya wants him to touch, “What happened?” “You bent me over the writing-desk and fucked me ‘til I screamed,” Chuuya says dreamily, “You haven’t been that rough with me in ages. You know I like it when you’re a little insane.”

Despite himself, Dazai feels just a touch guilty. “I--” “Hush,” Chuuya cuts him off, eyes soft. “I know why you’re treating me gently. I don’t mind it.” “It’s okay?” Dazai slips one finger inside, breath catching in his throat at the way Chuuya feels around him. “More than okay.” Chuuya makes a quiet ‘nn’ sound of pleasure, eyelids fluttering as Dazai crooks his finger. “Ah, please--”

Chuuya is beautiful like this, so beautiful. The way his hair falls over one shoulder, curling as it begins to stick to his skin, framing the healing bites and bruises Dazai’s already left along the column of his throat in bright orange like neat embroidery. The way he whimpers quietly, covering his mouth with the back of one hand, trying to act like he’s not quite so affected as he is by the curl of Dazai’s fingers inside. The way he moves his body, lifting his hips upwards, trying to fuck himself harder on Dazai’s hand, clinging tight to his husband, a life raft in the ocean of their bed. “Nnngh, Osamu,” Chuuya pants, and Dazai’s head still spins a little even though his first name has become much more common-use since their marriage, “Need you inside me.” And what kind of prince would Dazai be to deny his beloved consort anything?

[breadtheft1796]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you for the tag @palettesofrenaissance <3

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 91 (with 8 of those posted anonymously and 26 current hidden).

2. What's your total ao3 word count? 316,689

3. What fandoms do you write for? i currently write for marvel and good omens. previously i have written for doctor who, hannibal, harry potter, hetalia, interview with the vampire, les misérables, and the walking dead (occasionally i dip back into writing those). and some other one-off fics for other fandoms.

4. Top five fics by kudos: quips and endearments (t, 1.6k) aragorn and legolas flirt to keep morale up acts of service (t, 4k) aziraphale falls nothing but theatre (e, ongoing) bucky/zemo fake dating and time travel au behind the make-up (t, 1k) the grandmaster exposes loki's mouth scars hannibal, it's tinsel (g, <1k) hannibal/will fluffy hissy fits over xmas decs

5. Do you respond to comments? i like to and try to but i've got behind on it lately. i need to catch up.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? angst is my thing so most of my fics end angstily. maybe either: uncovered secrets (e, 5k) bucky recognises heinrich in one of zemo's family photos lithium (e, 3k) zemo's first look at the latvian apartment since his family's death

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? definitely this, it's very hopeful for the future: falling leaves and apple pulp (g, <1k) bucky and sarah go apple picking

8. Do you get hate on fics? i used to but not so much anymore. i've had a couple of hate anons on here related to fics though.

9. Do you write smut? yes, occasionally but i'm not very good at it.

10. Craziest crossover: i haven't really done many crossovers but i mix adaptions a lot.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i had a couple stolen off deviantart and ff.net back in the day but nothing off ao3 that i'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no but i had one of my anonymously posted fics podfic'd, so that was nice.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? i'd say so, yes, because even though it wasn't a back and forth thing some of the babes from the winterbaron discord have plotted and contributed so heavily to fics that i refuse to take full credit. also me and @palettesofrenaissance are going to be co-writing something soon so that's exciting!

14. All time favorite ship? usually i would usually say peggy/steve from mcu because i've loved them fiercely since 2011. but i'm going to say england/spain from hetalia because i'm feeling nostalgic at the moment and i always fall back into writing fic for them when i'm feeling particularly stressed or down.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? i don't often write multi-chapter fics so only have one wip currently up. it would be good to get that finished, since i'm only 1 chapter away from an epilogue.

16. What are your writing strengths? angst. character studies and introspection. oneshots. i've been told i'm good at setting the tone and atmosphere, and i keep getting comments saying i'm good at conveying emotion, which makes me insanely happy.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? worldbuilding in general. multi-chapter fics. spelling and grammar. knowing how to end fics. smut. i'm also very quick to get discouraged and abandon fics all together.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? i love it. other languages are often so beautiful and i like looking up commonly used phrases and contexts for how they are used. i've used other languages in most of my mcu fics.

19. First fandom you wrote in? i have hazy memories of this but i think it was twilight, where instead of going to italy to save edward, she and alice got together instead. i stand by 15 year old me's taste in ship. the first fic i posted online was for hetalia though, the twilight one stayed in a notepad.

20. Favorite fic you've written? i couldn't just pick one so: the last of fine days (m, 15k) zemo's old family home plays tricks on their minds -> my first attempt at gothic domestic/horror and i'm proud of it. migraine aura (m, 5k) aziraphale and crowley are exes stuck together at a party -> i wanted to write the most claustrophobic, overstimulating environment i could and i think i succeeded.

no pressure tagging, in case any of you felt like it: @zsparz, @milarca, @zemos-bathrobe, @fuddlewuddle, @yolkinthejump, @captainjimothycarter

[leiawritesstories]

20 Questions for Writers!

Thanks for the tag @writtenonreceipts!! <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

21 and counting 👀

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

226,575

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Primarily for Throne of Glass, but I'm always open to writing for more fandoms :)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Chef Rowan

Fly The Black Flag

Until Proven Guilty

Wild Proposal Stories

Quarter After One

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes!! Comments are one of the best parts of being a writer/creator and it makes me happy to both receive and give them.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Late-Night Dances, which involves MCD🫣🫣 or really any of the handful of fics I've written where a character doesn't make it.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oooh maybe Fly The Black Flag? I kind of borrowed the ending from POTC but changed some things, and a little while later, I was able to write a sort of epilogue/outtake where Rowaelin have a child, and it was super fluffy and cute and heartwarming.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No? I don't think so, this community is genuinely wonderful and so supportive :))

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes I do, hehe. I've only ever written F/M explicit content

10. Do you write crossovers?

Well......sort of. I like to sneak in characters from the other SJM books if it's possible and if it works, and once upon a time I tried to write a crossover fic that has since been abandoned 😂. But if it's ever in the cards, I'd love to properly write one!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also nope, but that would be so cool

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Possibly 👀👀👀 @mariaofdoranelle

14. What is your all-time favorite ship?

Rowan x Aelin. They will never not be an OTP.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Probably The Only Option, which has a whole plan/outline and some notes for the plot but will probably never be anything more than what it is. This also happens to be the fic that sparked my main idea for an original novel, so it might never be more of a fanfic, idk.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I honestly don't know lol. I think I can write family dynamics/kids pretty well, but I grew up with a bunch of siblings so it's kind of easier for me to write sibling and family dynamics. I'm also the proud (?) owner of an inner angst monster that I call Frederick, and he's very very good at having ideas for making situations painful 🤭

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Definitely consistency. Even in oneshots, I'm prone to forgetting what I wrote earlier or if they're linked oneshots/in the same setting or world, I tend to forget or change details about the setting, which just bothers me SO much. And don't even get started on how horribly inconsistent I am in long fics 😭😭 like, I'm a hella planner, but somehow I'll be rereading old parts of a draft (hello, Until Proven Guilty) and realize that there are big glaring gaps from the earlier parts to the later parts and just cry over the plot holes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Love it! If the language is significant to a certain character, particularly to their background/development, I love to see dialogue in another language. Wish I spoke better in the other languages that I sort of know (Spanish/tiny bit of Italian) so I could incorporate it into writing. I think it's also super super amazing how some writers can create original languages.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Bloody Jack Throne of Glass! Started writing and never stopped lol ;)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

i had a whole lot of fun writing DILF Rowan, which came from a prompt. also really really enjoyed The Assassin and the Princess, which is a sort of alternate canon reimagining.

some tags if you want: @mariaofdoranelle @elentiyawhitethorn @tomtenadia @house-of-galathynius @rowanaelinn and anyone else who wants to!!!

[karahalloway]

Sleepless in New York: Epilogue - Into The Night

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: On the long-dreaded night of the Masquerade Ball, Drake has a revelation...

Word Count: 4,600

Rating/Warnings: M (angst, way too many f-bombs, drinking, references to drug-use, fluffy fluff fluff)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: This is my slightly belated submission for @choicesprompts Flufftober 2023 event I got this out as fast as I could! The prompt that this fits is '31 - You don’t know me and I promise I’m not a creepy stalker but...' and possibly this one:

A/N2: I have no clue how many people actually listen to the chapter theme songs for these fics, but if you have time, I highly encourage you to listen to this one! I dredged it from the depths of my Middle School memories because I realised that it was perfect for this chapter (in my head, if Sleepless were a movie/TV show, this is the song that would play as the end credits song).

Epilogue - Into The Night

"You okay?"

I shoot a scoff across the room. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"You could," Chris concedes, meeting my eye through the full-length mirror as he adjusts a cuff. "But I am not the one who has been staring into that whiskey glass for the past ten minutes."

"Speak for yourself," I reply, quickly draining what's left of my drink. "You've been eyeing up your reflection for the past fifteen."

"I just want to make a good first impression, is all..." he admits while obsessing over the gold aiguillette draped across his jacket.

"Isn't that what the job of the so-called ladies?" I ask dryly, dropping the now empty glass back onto the bar cart.

"I am certain they will be pulling out all the stops," he sighs, smoothing his already immaculate hair down. "But, given the occasion, it is only fair that I reciprocate."

"Well, short of emergency Botox, I think you've more than crossed that T."

Chris snaps his head around in bewilderment. "Pardon me?"

I shrug apathetically. "You're fast approaching thirty, buddy. And those crow's feet aren't doing you any favours."

He quirks a brow at me. "I think you'll find that they are laugh lines..."

"Now you're just splitting grey hairs, old man..."

Chris bursts out laughing. "Speak for yourself, Drake! You were born three months before me!"

"True," I concede. "But unlike you, I ain't got no wrinkles."

His mouth pulls into a knowing smirk. "Only because you hide them under all that unkept facial hair!"

"You should try it sometime," I riposte, running my hand suggestively over the bristles on my jaw.

Chris shakes his head with a wry grin. "I must've done something very wrong at some point for you to be my best friend..."

I spread my arms. "Hey. I'm just here to keep you humble."

Chris scoffs. "Yes. By reminding me that I'm fast approaching middle age..."

"It took your mind off the Ball, didn't it?"

"Yes," he concedes after a pause. "I suppose it did."

"Not just a hat rack, my friend," I grin with a tap on my temple. "But seriously. You look great. Warts and all."

A wan smile ghosts his lips. "Thanks, mate. You don't look too shabby yourself."

I glance down at the black tux that I'm wearing. "Yeah. Well... Given the occasion, I figured I should make some kind of effort as well."

"You know you don't have to dress up on my account... I know how much you dislike donning evening wear."

"Tell that to the prick who put 'black tie' on the invite..."

Chris chuckles. "That would be my father."

"Figures..." I say with a roll of my eyes. "He's got more dinner jackets than you can shake a stick at."

"A necessity when you are a king, I'm afraid..." Chris reminds me. "But at least it isn't a white tie 'do."

"Oh, sweet Jesus..." I groan, remembering the last royal event that I had to subject myself to in a bow tie and matching waistcoat. "I was sweating like a priest in a brothel strapped up in that monkey suit."

"It certainly did not help that the air conditioning system had been broken..."

"In the middle of a heatwave..." I add. "With five hundred people packed into a room."

"Yes, that Venice trip certainly was memorable."

"For all the wrong reasons," I grunt sourly. "I somehow managed to get food poisoning as well."

"I remember," nods Chris sympathetically. "But at least you missed the terrible opera."

"Honestly, I would've traded that hellhole of a night for an entire week's worth of bad arias..." I grumble. "I definitely got the short end of the stick in that trade."

"You only say that because you do not know what it is to sit through four hours of off-key yodelling," Chris says with grimace.

"No," I admit solemnly. "Because I always bring earplugs."

Chris' eyes widen. "And you never thought to share them?"

"Doesn't really work if you only block one ear..."

Chris rewards my factual clap-back with a shove. "You are a sod, you know that right?"

"Thought that was old news," I reply with a grin, dodging out of the way.

"And yet you nevertheless continue to raise the bar..."

"Hey," I wink as I reverse my way back to the bar cart. "I have high standards."

Chris shakes his head with a wry grin. "You're impossible."

"Thought I was a sod," I quip over my shoulder as I refill both our glasses.

"An impossible sod," accedes Chris wryly as he slips on his monogrammed Breitling.

"Just so we're clear..." I smirk as I retrace my steps to offer him one of the tumblers.

"Thanks," he acknowledges, taking the heavy crystal. "What shall we toast to?"

I think for a second. "How 'bout blind, dumb luck?"

Chris lifts a brow. "That's a new one."

"Seems to be in short supply of late," I tell him, raising my glass.

"Very true," he agrees. "To Lady Luck, then! May she bestow her golden smile upon us once again!"

"'Cause we could all do with a fuckin' break," I add dryly, clinking my glass against his.

Chris brings the gin to his mouth with a laugh. "Did we not just have one?"

"Not all of us," I remind him, throwing my refill back.

"Well, we'll need to make sure you take some time in lieu, then."

"I'll be fine," I assure him. "I'll just chalk it up as overtime."

Chris chuckles. "At the rate you're going, you'll soon have more overtime on the books than regular time."

"Yeah, well..." I shrug. "Shit needs doing. But I'm planning on dropping off the grid for a couple of weeks once the Bash is behind us."

"Take a whole month," Chris advises, clapping a hand onto my shoulder. "You will have more than earned it by then."

I scoff. "I can't just—"

He firms up his grip. "I insist."

Lifting my gaze, I find his clear, emerald eyes locking me down.

I huff out a low breath. "Fine. I'll think about it."

"That is the best I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?"

"Yep," I tell him with a slap on his arm. "Now, hop to it, Cinderella — your ball awaits."

"Yes, I suppose we best get on," he concedes, depositing his empty glass on a side table. "Would be rude to turn up late for my own party..."

Turning on his heel, he strides determinedly towards the door of his suite. The footman stationed by the wall quickly grabs the latch and pulls the door back.

"Here we go..." I mutter under my breath as I drop my tumbler off as well and follow after him.

This is it. The start of the slow, downward skid towards the inevitable. The beginning of the end.

Because tonight's ball kicks off not just the months-long circus that is the social season, but the countdown to Chris' coronation as well.

As despite all the official interviews and press releases, it's no secret within the Palace that Constantine is living on borrowed time. His pancreatic cancer had been diagnosed too late, and even with vigorous treatment, it had spread. And even based on the most optimistic outlook, chances are good that he won't make it to Christmas.

Which is why New York — by necessity — had been such a whirlwind tour. Because any day could end up being the old bastard's last, and Chris has to be ready to step up to the plate at a moment's notice. Not that he isn't already running the country in all but name... It just isn't official yet.

But that's why the race to find the next Queen is exactly that — a high-stakes time-trial where the clock is against everyone.

Especially Chris.

Because if Constantine's condition takes a sudden turn for the worse, Chris may not get the luxury of choice. As some dumbass had had the bright idea a few centuries ago to enact a law that states that Cordonian monarchs must be married or engaged at the time of their coronation. Which means that Chris' hand could end up being forced by circumstances — and selfish interests — outside his control.

So, we better pray that he finds someone, and fast. Or that the doctors are wrong. Ideally both.

Otherwise, we're gonna be up the proverbial creek without a paddle, hurtling down the rapids of a constitutional crisis that could very literally tear the kingdom apart.

"Well... This is it," declares Chris as we arrive at the doors of the ballroom.

"Yep," I agree over the soft hubbub of gossip and classical music that's seeping out into the ante-room we're standing in. "Last chance to cut and a run."

"I am honestly considering it," he admits with a shaky laugh as the footmen prepare to open the double-height doors.

"Hey," I say, stepping in front of him. "If you need a time out—"

He shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?" I ask, fixing him with a critical eye as I wave at the staff to hold their horses.

"Yes," he nods determinedly. "Just... Just some last-minute nerves, is all."

"Understandable," I concede. "There are only about a dozen girls on the other side of that door waiting to throw themselves at you."

He eyes the barrier uneasily. "I suppose I should feel flattered..."

"...but you're seriously thinking about jumping off the balcony."

He bites out a strangled laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"You never could beat me at poker."

"Shit..." he mutters, running an agitated hand down his face.

"Hey," I say, clamping my hands onto his shoulders to make him look at me. "It's a fucked up situation. I get it. Your dad's got one foot in the grave, you're trying to run a country, and the last thing you want to do is play Royal Bachelor in front of all these tossers. But you need a Queen. And the season's your best bet at finding one."

"But how will I know which is the one?"

"You won't," I admit. "Until you do."

Christ knows Gale struck me like white lightning out of the blue...

His lips curve into a ghost of a smile. "Blind, dumb luck..."

"Blind, dumb luck," I confirm, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Chris heaves a low exhale. "Here's to chance, then."

"Knock 'em dead, buddy," I say with a grin as I step back.

Chris lines himself up in front of the entranceway again. The footmen reach for the handles as the herald takes his position.

I give everyone the go.

The double doors swing open, and the herald clears his voice.

The music and the hubbub come to an abrupt halt as every neck in the room cranes around with unfettered interest.

"Preeesenting His Royal Highness, the Duke of Applewood!"

Chris squares his shoulders and lifts his head. And just like that, the man disappears and in his place stands the Prince — cool, composed, collected — any wayward reservations masked behind the diplomatic smile he's been practising since the age of three.

The crowd parts...

...and with one final inhale, Chris steps over the threshold and the doors close behind him.

A breath that I didn't realise I'd been holding explodes out of me.

Phase 1 — check.

Now to try and get through the remainder of the ball without any front-page scandals, culinary clusterfucks, or assassination attempts upsetting the carefully staged high-society apple cart.

Because I hadn't been joking earlier when I'd said we could all do with a fuckin' break. The media storm kicked up by Leo's abdication was still raging in full force through the pages of the tabloids, and it's only gonna be a matter of time before the paps get wind of Constantine's condition.

Which is why it's so critical that tonight's event goes off without a hitch. As the royal family — Chris especially — is in desperate need of a publicity uplift before the coronation... and the funeral.

And it's my job to quarterback while Bastien coordinates from the command centre.

So, I need to be especially on it tonight. As we can't afford any cock-ups.

Spinning on my heel, I make my way towards the closest side-door as I activate the hidden mic clipped to my jacket. "Falcon has flown, over."

"Confirmed," comes the crackled sound of Bastien's voice over the comms. "Blue Team — do you have eyes on Falcon?"

"We have eyes on Falcon, over," affirms Marquez.

"Walker, you're clear to take up secondary position, over."

"Roger that, over."

I feel my shoulders relax slightly as I reach the end of the service corridor.

So far, so good.

Just need to stay focused for the next six-or-so hours, and make sure that nothing goes sideways.

Opening the white-washed door in front of me, I slip into the ballroom near the back of the royal dais. Clicking the latch closed softly behind me, I catch sight of Constantine.

He's dressed to the nines in full royal regalia, patent oxfords polished to within an inch of their life. But the carefully coordinated window dressing can't hide the fact that the old man is a shadow of his former self.

His cheeks are sunken, his greying hair is sparse, and despite the carefully applied make-up, his skin lacks the usual vigour of health.

But I gotta hand it to the man. Despite his failing health, he's out here tonight. Putting on a united front for the sake of the kingdom — for the sake of his son — to make sure that the royal show goes on. Even if it fucking kills him.

Because that's the price of duty.

And regardless of his other failings — of which there are many — you have to respect him for that, if nothing else.

He spots me out of the corner of his periphery. "Drake..."

"Sir," I acknowledge with a respectful nod, coming to a stop.

"I trust everything is under control?"

"Yessir."

He eyes me for a moment before leaning back into his upholstered chair. "Let's ensure that it stays that way."

Knowing a dismissal when I hear one, I resume my path around the perimeter, scanning the crowd as I walk, always keeping at least one eye on Chris.

Because Constantine's direction had been clear.

Don't fuck up.

Not that I plan to.

I learnt my lesson the hard way in New York about taking my eyes off the ball. And like hell am I gonna—

"Managed to find a new shirt, I see..."

I freeze. No fuckin' way.

I must've imagined it. A trick of the space... A wayward echo... An auditory illusion.

But if that's true, then who the hell is standing behind me? Eyes locked onto my back like a laser-sight? Their familiar scent tickling my nose?

Camomile with a hint of honey.

I shake my head, trying to rejig my senses.

It doesn't work.

Which leaves me with just one option.

Steeling myself, I turn slowly around, part of me convinced that I've well and truly lost the plot, part of me 'bout ready to believe in miracles.

Because that voice... Here? That's just not possible. Unless there was something in that whiskey and I'm tripping major ballsacks right now.

Wouldn't be the first time Max pulled a stunt like that...

But as I complete the about-face, it quickly becomes clear that I ain't just obviously high — I've lost my motherfuckin' mind completely.

That, or a bomb has just gone off in the ballroom and I'm now stood at the Gates of Heaven, about to receive final judgement.

Because I can think of no other scenario that would explain why she's here, in front of me, wrapped in a shimmering, floor-length white dress that clings to her curves like wisps of a dream, a coy smile playing at her lips.

"But I guess you can't show up at a place like this in cowboy boots and Wrangler jeans, huh?"

The soft lilt of her voice slices through me like a boot knife. "Harp—"

I make the mistake of catching her eye.

And whatever semblance of rationale thought I may have had left dissolves instantly in the sparkle of her hazel-green gaze.

The crowd... The Schubert... The entire fucking kingdom crashes into inconsequence as I feel my already tenuous grip on reality slip, leaving me stranded on the twilight edge of reason, struggling for breath.

How—?

I have no clue how long I stand there, rooted to the spot like a vegetate stoner as I try — and fail — to make sense of what the actual fuck is happening.

Because this shit? It sure as hell ain't real.

"...Drake?"

The sound of her voice finally unglitches my brain.

I blink.

But she's still there. Staring at me. Like an unabating hallucination with a bad sense of humour.

With concerted effort, I force myself to choke out the only salient question. "The hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Why?"

"You left your jackets behind and—"

My jaw drops. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Who — in their right mind — chases someone halfway around the world? Because of a goddamn jacket?

Nobody. That's who.

The girl's obviously crazy.

Her smile falters slightly. "I thought I'd surprise you..."

"Yeah. Well, I hate surprises," I cut in acerbically, still trying to process this shitshow.

"Yes," she snips, hazel eyes hardening. "That much is becoming clear!"

"What the fuck did you expect, Gale?" I hit back. "That I'd just—?"

"I don't know what I was expecting!" she snaps, the force of her annoyance propelling her forward as she flings an arm out. "But it sure as hell wasn't this!"

"Well, that makes two of us," I bite out, suddenly finding myself nose-to-nose with her. "Because I would've expected a fucking heads-up!"

Her eyes narrow. "Do you know how many Drake Walkers there are online?"

I feel my jaw clench. "What the hell does that—?"

"Over a hundred!" she shouts into my face... loud enough for a few nearby aristos to turn their heads. "And none of them are you!"

I grab her by the arm. "So, you just decide to jump on a plane and—?"

"Yes! Because it's not like I had your number, either, Walker," she continues forcefully, jabbing me in the chest. "Because you just left and—"

"You fucking think I don't know that!" I yell back, the inherent accusation of her words ripping away the last vestiges of my sanity.

Several more heads to turn.

But I don't give a shit.

Because I can't seem to think straight around this girl on the best of days. Let alone when she springs herself on me like some damn jack-in-the-box — for the third fuckin' time just as many days — leaving me slap-faced and scrambling, and then accuses me of being an asshole?

Like fuck am I gonna act rational...

...also, why the hell does she have to look so damn good in that dress?

She's glaring up at me, chest heaving. "This was obviously a bad idea..."

I scoff humourlessly, her face inches from mine. "No fucking shit."

Her body tenses... but in the next instant the fight goes out of her just as fast as it ignited. Dropping her gaze, she mutters, "Glad we got that cleared up..."

There's something in her tone that I can't quite place.

But my burnt-out brain is too slow at cottoning on, and before I have a chance to figure it out, she's spun out of my grasp and I'm left holding nothing but air...

"Harp—"

...but by the time I look up, she's already turned and vanished into the crush.

Shit.

That obviously came out wrong.

But what the fuck had she been thinking? For me to just throw my hat over the moon like some star-struck moron? To sweep her off her feet and kiss her like we were in a goddamn rom-com?

I catch sight of the flash of her honey-caramel hair halfway across the room.

Crap.

That's exactly what I should've done.

Ignoring every single warning light going off in my head — she's not been vetted, she didn't have an invite, how the fuck did she even find me? — I throw myself after her.

Because as pissed off as I am that she was able to get the jump on me like she did — someone's sure as shit getting fired for that — I can't deny the fact that I'm still a complete and utter fool for her.

And the thought of her walking out on me — like I'd walked out on her — hits worse than a bullet to the gut.

"Harper!" I shout, pushing through the crowd of beady-eyed onlookers to try and get to her, much to their undisguised disgust.

"Oi, watch it, you!"

"C'est intolérable!"

"Do you know who I am!"

But if she hears me over the growing furore, she doesn't stop.

"For fuck's sake..." I grunt under my breath as I momentarily lose sight of her in the sea of heads.

This girl's going to be the death of me.

But if I'm going to have any chance of catching her, I know I need a change of strategy.

Spinning on my heel, I cut a hard and fast path back to the edge of the ballroom, spilling more than a few fancy drinks in the process as I knock aristos out of the way like bowling pins.

Heedless of the chaos left in my wake, I burst out onto the periphery of the crush. Throwing myself into a sprint back towards the tail end of the room, I bump off anyone stupid enough to get in my way.

I'm not losing her again.

Rushing past the raised dais, I see Constantine turn his head in my direction...

...but I've blown past him before he has a chance to open his mouth.

Sliding to a haphazard stop in front of the wall, I pause for just long enough to wrench the hidden door open before hurling myself down the service corridor.

Rushing past doors and junctions on my left and right, I pull up a mental blueprint of the Palace, trying to extrapolate her most likely position based on her speed and prior trajectory, and cross-reference that against how fast I'm going to determine the best option for an interception.

There. The main foyer.

Skidding around a corner, I double-time it down the narrow passageways, praying and hoping that I've been able to make up for time lost in the ballroom.

Arriving at the exit point, I throw myself against the door — nearly dislocating my shoulder in the process — and crash back out into the Palace-proper...

...but I can't see her anywhere.

"Fuck!" I cuss, running an agitated hand through my hair as I spin around.

Maybe I miscalculated. Maybe she's already gone. Maybe—

"Ooph!"

I collide bodily with someone speeding around the corner from the opposite direction, their head smacking into my jaw.

Agony shoots through my mouth as the unexpected impact causes me to bite down on my tongue.

Motherfucker!

But the sharp sting of the pain doesn't stop my body from reacting. If anything, it kicks my training into gear. Moving more on instinct than anything else, I execute a targeted sidestep to realign my centre as my hand snaps out to grab the other person by the arm to stop them from falling backwards.

Using their weight as a fulcrum, I redirect the force of our momentum into a spin to bring both of us to a stop next to the wall.

"You okay?" I ask, peering down at the panting, hot mess in my arms.

Gale snaps her head up so fast she nearly breaks my nose as well. "How the hell did you get in front of me?"

"Trade secret," I tell her.

She lays into me. On the exact same spot she hit me last night.

"Christ!" I exclaim, reeling back. "What the hell was that—?"

"For being an asshole!" she decries, hitting me again.

"Asshole?" I scoff. "You fucking ran into me!"

"Well, maybe I wouldn't have done if you hadn't been such a jerk, Walker!" she shouts, smacking me again.

"What do you want, then?" I demand, catching her wrist. "A goddamn apology?"

Her eyes blaze. "It would be a damn good st—"

Fuck it.

Giving her wrist a hard tug, I use the inherent resistance in her arm to yank her forward. And before she has a chance to object, I've crashed my lips against hers.

I hear her suck in a sharp breath of surprise before her body suddenly softens, melting against mine with a sigh as she gives into me.

The scent of her wildflower perfume subsumes me as she throws an arm around my neck, and I'm — at long last — home.

Because it's not until this moment that I realise how much I fucking missed her. Even though I barely know her, and I have no clue how... or even if we can make this — whatever this is — work, I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was a monumental idiot for not going back to find her in New York...

...for the fact that I walked out on her in the first place.

Because this girl? She's unlike anything I've ever seen before.

The sheer fact that she's here — despite all the myriad-and-one ways in which I've screwed up with her — proves that.

And I'll be damned if I'll find another like her.

"Harper... I'm sorry," I pant between kisses, reaching up to cup her face in my palms. "For being an asshole... for being a jerk... for getting you fired... for hurting you... for—"

"I'm sorry, too..." she gasps, gripping my hair as my lips skate down her neck. "I didn't mean to... freak you out... like that... and I should've—"

"How did you even get here?" I ask, spinning her around to press her up against the wall behind me.

"Leo," she moans, arching up towards me as I drop a hand down to her ass, pulling her back into me. "He came to the apartment and—"

I scoff as I capture her mouth again. "Un-fuckin'-real..."

I'm gonna murder the bastard.

Because if this is his batshit way of saying 'thank you' for me being here for Chris instead of him, then he's definitely more than one brick shy of a load.

As regardless of whatever kind of happy reunion he'd cooked up in his mind, there's only one possible outcome to this royal SNAFU — me losing my job. Because there's no way in hell that Bast will be able to overlook the fact that I deserted my post to chase after a girl.

Again.

As unlike last time, there are a good two-dozen witnesses who can throw me under the bus. And they'll do so with impunity, given half a chance. Because one of those witnesses is Constantine. And no way is he gonna let such a flagrant dereliction of duty fly. Especially not after the very clear command he gave me.

Plus, it's not like I can justify my behaviour with any kind of rational argument. Or swear on a stack of Bibles that I won't do it again.

I'd tried that in New York.

It hadn't worked.

But as I glance down at Gale's flushed face, one thing is crystal clear.

I'll deal with that shit in the morning...

~ Fin ~

A/N: This is it! We have arrived at the end! 🤗 Thank you so much for bearing with me over the course of this fic, which has been 2 long years in the making! Hopefully, the journey was worth it! There will be some Extras in the near future (art, a bonus chapter), but no ETA on any of these yet (too many other WIPs I want/need to finish). Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, reblog, comment, emote, and generally encourage me through this project! I - for one! - have certainly grown to love Drake more as a result! 🥰 Hope you have too!

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Sleepless in New York only

@bebepac

Picture Credits: Harper - Cordonia - Drake - Constantine - Kiss - Christian

[nightghoul381]

Congratulations on the milestone! 🥳👏 May it be the first of many more!

I will request Star Crossed Lovers with (ofc) Keith. His POV. I'll let you choose if Main or Alter or both, and if SFW, NSFW or suggestive. I just love this prompt very much and I believe it's SO THEM (Main a bit more than Alter but anyways, THEM).

Thank you so much! 🥰

OOOHHHH this was a fun one ^w^ I kept it SFW (but can always make an epilogue 😉) I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for following me 🥰🥰

Whatever It Takes

Keith Howell (POV) x Reader Prompt: Star-crossed lovers Genre: Fluffy angst WC: ~1.5k

It’s so difficult to see you across the room and know that I wasn’t able to be your escort. The gala was supposed to be a way for our two countries to further develop their relationship, and to say that I hadn’t been eagerly looking forward to this would be a complete lie.

You look immaculate, hair pinned elegantly and dress perfectly fitted to your curves. My heart flutters as your eyes meet mine. I doubt I’ll ever truly be able to get over the way you make me feel, the way you’ve decided that I am worthy of your love.

I long to make my way over to you; to sweep you into my arms and lead you around the room in a delicate dance. I wish I could demonstrate to all the world how strong my love for you is, yet at this time, it is impossible.

If only our countries were not on the verge of war, then surely we would have the blessings of our respective kingdoms to pursue our love. Alas, the way things stand I fear that we may never get the chance to openly express our feelings toward each other.

I hadn’t realized how long I had been staring until a nobleman in the group I was gathered with mentioned it.

“Prince Keith, you’ve been eyeing that young lady for quite some time. Would it be wrong of me to presume she strikes your fancy? You know full well you can’t be seen cavorting with the enemy,” He warns, shooting a distasteful glare your way.

The instant rage bubbling inside me at the brazen comments is not something I’m used to. I try very hard to keep my emotions in check, especially during social functions such as this. If I let myself get too overwhelmed, He will take control, and I can’t trust him not to make a scene and jeopardize everything.

He loves you too, and you him. It’s so strange to know that you are somehow so full of love that you can make both of us feel completely loved without one being neglected. I admit that I don’t know if I would have the same ability to love two women equally at the same time, my mind is only ever devoted to you, and yet I feel that your mind is always filled with both of us in equal measure.

I glance down at the noble and quietly deny his assertions, brushing them aside with a mention of how you had looked familiar but that I must have been mistaking you for another noblewoman.

I still can’t seem to curb the anger I’m feeling at his blatant disrespect toward you, so I politely excuse myself, making my way to the edge of the room. And my breathing quickens as I see you do the same, moving closer to me. I feel like this may be the only opportunity for us to speak tonight, so making eye contact with you, I step out into the hall and move to one of the offices nearby.

Impatience fills me as I await your arrival. Surely, you understood what I was trying to convey when we exchanged that look. I need to see you. My head is spinning and I can feel my agitation growing.

A very soft, almost inaudible knocking on the office door stops my frantic thinking, it’s you. I ease open the door and you slip inside as I close and lock the door behind you.

You’re even more breathtaking up close. The shimmer of the fabric of your dress makes it look as though the sky had descended and wrapped you in a gown of stars, the heavens themselves jealous of your beauty.

Your fragrant perfume wafts over me as you approach and I take in a deep lungful, savoring how the scent toys with my mind, sending washes of joy, comfort, safety, pleasure, and desire rushing through my body in tandem.

I allow my long legs to bridge the last bit of distance between us, drawing you in for an urgent and needy kiss. You are all too happy to oblige, working your plush pout against me in such an intoxicating rhythm. The taste of your lips fills the aching hole that has haunted my heart since last we parted. I can feel the aching loneliness fading, replaced with the heavenly feeling of your love.

When at last we separate to get some air, I take in the heady look in your lidded gaze and feel my blood rush faster. You certainly must not be thinking what it seems you’re thinking, could you?

“Darling, we can’t do this, not here and not yet. I’m expected to speak in a few moments.”

My words cause such a disparaging look of disappointment to mar your beautiful face, guilt threatens to overwhelm me. He wouldn’t mind giving into you in such an exposed place with so many pressing matters that need to be attended to.

The negative thoughts spiral, and I feel the all too familiar sensation of self-hatred leading to him taking over. I’m so torn, reluctant to give up control out of responsibility, yet at the same time, willing to let Him take control to ensure your needs are met.

In the end, I resolve that I need to ensure this engagement goes as planned and manage to battle Him back, vowing that we will find a way to make sure you don’t leave here dissatisfied. You deserve the world and I hope I convey that in the kiss I drop on your forehead.

“I’ll make sure we have time together at the end of the night,” I promise, running a hand over your shoulder, so small and delicate beneath my long fingers.

You nod briefly, shaking off the dejected look and replacing it with a warm smile.

“You promise?” you ask, blinking your gorgeous eyes up at me. If only I were a different man, I would hold you close right now. I’d make sure that such a sad look never again crossed your features. I would keep that beautiful smile on your face to the best of my abilities. You deserve to be happy and that is all I want you to ever feel.

“Of course. I don’t think I’d be able to go another night without holding you.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, I let go of you, allowing you to re-enter the ballroom before I eventually makes my way back in myself.

As the event finally begins to wind down and draw to a close, I find myself anxiously scanning the few remaining people for your lovely face. My heart sinks as I realize you’re no longer in the room.

Please don’t tell me she’s already left…

I rush out of the room, heading toward the front of the castle. Perhaps if I’m fast enough I’ll be able to catch a glimpse of you before you disappear. Who knows when the next time will come that I’ll be able to see you.

As I sprint down one of the halls, I hear my name hissed in a hushed whisper from one of the rooms. I skid to a halt, jogging back toward where I thought I heard the voice.

There you are. The relief flowing through me is overwhelming and as soon as I enter the room, I capture you in a desperate hungry kiss. My heart is still racing from the fear that I could have missed you. That I would have had to go at minimum another month without seeing you as you would head back to your country and remain under constant supervision. The only reason you’re not under lock and key now is because your handmaiden took pity on us, covering for you with the other servants, and granting us this time to be alone together.

The eager passion you fill each kiss with is drowning my mind in such a pleasurable haze, and soon the only thing I can do is focus on the way you taste and the heavenly feel of your arms around my neck. I lift you, holding you in my arms and allowing me better access to your mouth.

This blissful reunion is all I’ve been craving for so long, filling me with such immense joy I almost ruin the kiss with the dopey smile that I can’t seem to control.

My love for you is boundless and I swear on my life I will do whatever it takes for us to be together. Whatever it takes.

Taglist: @candied-boys @aquagirl1978 @ominousjangling @violettduchess

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 9 – AUs

Watch Him Suck Up That Gas by ItsMayBiTheWay

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 777 Tags: College AU, Dentists, Roommates

Summary: Tony is feeling a little loopy, he knows there is a reason for it but can't seem to remember why. But he is sure there was a reason! And the handsome blonde stranger sitting across him is not helping with thinking straight... OR: Tony goes to the dentist to get his teeth pulled and gets high out of his mind with the sedatives.

Reasons why I love it: This fic is so fucking cute! It's short and fluffy and sweet, the perfect treat if you're looking for a little pick-me-up. Loopy Tony is adorable, and Steve is just the best. I love this fic, and I bet you will too!

time stolen with you by Areiton

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,853 Tags: The Last of Us AU, Survival, Post-Apocalypse

Summary: This is just time stolen from a dead world. It doesn’t make it any less beautiful.

Reasons why I love it: The wording throughout this fic is so beautiful. Watching Tony figure out his new life in this changed world is fantastic, especially once he's joined by Steve. And those last few paragraphs made me tear up. This fic is wonderful, and I hope you give it a shot for yourself!

But I'm Broken Too (And Spoken For) by pptiny

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 3,183 Tags: Crackfic, Cinderella AU, Humor

Summary: So, Steve is Cinderella. Who knew? A Cinderella AU that clearly makes no sense.

Reasons why I love it: Fucking Fairy Godfury, I'm howling. This one is crackfic at its finest. It's funny and adorable and doesn't take itself too seriously, which I love. Also, Steve and Tony bantering in the kitchen like two lovesick idiots is good stuff. This fic is great, and you should definitely read it!

My Best Friend's Wedding by jellybeanforest

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 5,086 Tags: No Powers, Stripper Steve, Closeted Tony

Summary: Howard Stark pressures his son to marry the daughter of a fellow industrialist, socialite and heiress Joanna Nivena. Tony reluctantly agrees, but his best friend, Rhodey, disapproves because: A: Tony isn’t a pawn in his father’s business plans, and B: Tony is gay. He is not about to let Tony make the biggest mistake of his life. So, Rhodey takes him to Las Vegas for his bachelor party and hires the first male stripper Tony shows any interest in for a private dance in the back rooms.

Reasons why I love it: Poor Tony, man. I'm glad he figured out what he wanted in the end. And Rhodey is such a good bro, my god, we could all use a friend like him, epilogue shenanigans nonwithstanding. Although that was fucking hilarious. I love this one, and I hope you give it a shot!

Eclipse by cooookieee

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,375 Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Mythology, Reincarnation

Summary: They had all the time in the world, and yet they weren't able to live at all. (Steve rules the Sun, and Tony the Moon)

Reasons why I love it: The whole concept of this fic is so fucking cool! I love all things mystical, and this fic does it so well. Steve and Tony as the Sun and Moon make so much sense to me, and their love for each other is as lovely as it is bittersweet. I especially love the way they find each other again, it's so good! Definitely check this one out!

[halfagone]

Challenge! 20 Questions for Writers

Thank you both @oliveofvanders and @tathartiel for tagging me!! I don't know what the 20 questions are, but I'll try to work from Tathy's responses. XD

How many works do you have on Ao3?

Technically my Ao3 page says 88, but I personally count it as 87, since I became a co-author post-publishing to add a work into a series. It's complicated, alright?

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

Oh gosh, don't hate me for this- Right now my total stands at 1,936,874 words... Yeah. I may be just a smidge unhinged...

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now I currently write for the DPxDC crossover, although I'm hoping to branch out into DP-only, DC-only, and other crossover works!! I used to write for another fandom, but I've long since left that one behind.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

No. 1 goes to lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood with a whopping 14,759 kudos. It is currently 92 chapters long, I am working on chapter 93, and it is projected to finish at 150 chapters.

No. 2 goes to Two For One Special at 8,349 kudos!! It's a short one-shot, very light-hearted with Danny and Clark being mistaken as two Waynes.

No. 3 goes to what was lost, found again with 7,090 kudos. This story follows more introspection and character exploration, and we get to see a softer side of what things could be if Jason came home after being resurrected. It's 5 chapters long, already completed if you want to check it out!

No. 4 goes to Eldritch Toddler with 7,031 kudos, so a very close runner-up to No. 3. This is another one-shot for DPxDC crossover week (which will be reoccur this year, although sadly I'm not sure if I'll be able to write for it this time), and it's a little wild and goofy but I overall I tried for fluffy family feels.

We wrap up with No. 5, Off With [the Demon's] Head at 5,492 kudos!! It is currently 15 chapters long, who knows when it'll be done. Danny is Damian's older brother, with mommy and daddy issues a-plenty, and he's sorta kinda Ellie's father? It's complicated and I like to hurt the blorbos.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I definitely try to!! I am very behind on them unfortunately, but I try to respond when I have the spoons and time to. It'll be slow going to catch up to them all, but I try to give them the credit they deserve. <3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh this one's hard... I tend to write a lot of angst, after all. Hmmm... I think I'll give this one to On a scale from 1-10, how would you rate your pain? just because that fic is so depressing and then I end it with a cliffhanger, so you don't get very much relief from the angst.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ah... I think this one does go to what was lost, found again just because of the catharsis for the journey. There's plenty of angst and hard feelings in that fic, but I really loved being able to write that epilogue from Damian's POV and seeing so many people love it too.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten some pretty rude comments, but I think I've only gotten outright hate one time. That comment has since been reported and deleted. There are many comments that seem to take a bad faith reading on the entire chapter, and then kinda go on a tangent about it? It's very strange to see but thankfully I have plenty of other wonderful readers who make up for it.

9. Do you write smut fic? If so, what kind?

Technically no. I've written some more mature fics, but I doubt I'll ever go for full-blown smut. And I'd like to keep it that way, thanks...

10. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've written?

Oh boy do I write crossovers. Majority of my fics are crossovers now actually. lol lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood does take this cake once again, because it started off as a few responses to a Tumblr prompt, and then it became interconnected one-shots and back then I had planned out at least 20 chapters, and here we are now.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't believe so, and I really, really hope not.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have co-written a fic!! It's called Born to Make History and I write it with my lovely friend @nightshiftshenanigans. I do have some more plans for co-written fic and hopefully one day soon I'll get to unveil them. ;3

13. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Oh... that's hard... I don't think I have one all-time favorite? I guess Tim Drake/Danny Fenton would be the closest, since it's the ship I've written the most for. Much like Tathy, I really adore Danny Fenton/Valerie Gray, they are my canon babies. <333

14. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Probably weekend wonders. I have plenty of ideas for the fic, the problem is I have so many other WIPs that came as a higher priority that I don't know when this one will get to update. It's only meant to have 15 chapters, but other things get in the way.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Hmmm, now that's a hard one. I do enjoy writing many things, especially worldbuilding, but I think introspection and character study would probably be the top ones up there. It's always been very important to me to show a character's reasoning and motivations. Even if you don't relate to it, even if their reasoning is inherently baseless, it is always good to see that people do things for a reason even if it's a stupid one.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I am so bad at dialogue it physically pains me. TAT Occasionally I'll get scenes and bits of dialogue I am absolutely in love with but otherwise it's just- It's not my strong suit for sure. lol In other news, I get pretty good at monologues, though!! XD

17. First Fandom you wrote for?

Tower of God, Korean Manhwa from Webtoon. It's so freaking long and so freaking good, but I have sadly since left it (and the fandom at large) behind. :'(

18. Favorite Fic you've written?

I bounce between favorites, but my current one would probably be this is me trying. It is a birthday fic for a wonderful friend of mine, @disillusioneddanny but the idea itself has been something I've wanted to explore for a long time, and I am so proud that I could give them a gift they could enjoy.

Apologies if you get tagged twice here: @die-erlkonigin6083, @chromatographic, and @theredshirtsarecoming!! (You ain't getting out of this that easily, zia!! MUAHAHAH) No pressure if you're not up for it, but in case you were interested~ Have at it!!

[wing-ed-thing]

I'm literally so obsessed w Foul Creature. It's the first story I found of yours that made me wanna follow and I'm so happy you continued updating it.

I'm sure you get this a lot but I love your writing style. It's the kind of style that makes me stay and keep coming back for more.

I gotta ask, without giving too much away, is Foul Creature going to end in fluffy angst or bittersweet angst?? 😭

Thank you!! You're beautiful 🩶🫶🏽

I would love to take a moment to LIGHTHEARTEDLY give you a hard time and think that all of my other writing was terrible until you found Foul Creature and decided “yeah, maybe worth a follow” LMAO. JOKING JOKING. Really though, I appreciate your kind words and I am so happy you’ve been following along and enjoying.

About the ending… I have been deciding how I want to do it. The original plan was to do a sort of “choose your own adventure” thing where a pivotal scene occurs and I ask you at the end of the chapter what you want to do. There will be a few options, and whatever is most popular will dictate the ending (I was considering with one “good” ending out of the selection). The only solid ideas I have so far are extreme angst and fluffy, bittersweet but satisfying angst.

In the same vein, I was considering a series of these for maybe a week where there would be a scenario or a piece of dialogue out of context that you would have to vote on your response. (One I was considering was “Do you love me?” But you wouldn’t know who was speaking for example.)

I do have an epilogue in mind already set in the Shippuden era, but I think it’s a bit dependent on what ending I want to go with (aka if I want to leave it up to y’all).

One thing is for certain. Everyone in the story, including you, dies. Whether or not it’s after a long, fulfilling and peaceful life may or may not be up to y’all.

TLDR: For the Foul Creature ending, I don’t know if I should just a) write the ending I have in mind b) let you choose one action at the end of a cliffhanger chapter that will dictate the ending c) make a series of polls voting on several character actions out of context before the beginning of the end. All characters will die, but the epilogue is in the shippuden era.

I am also setting the poll to one week so you can save your vote for after chapter 11 if you so choose.

[muddyorbsblr]

monthly wrap-up :: may 2023

Welcome to smth I’m gonna try this month: a wrap-up! I’ll be giving you all a lil recap of the fics I’ve read & written over the last month and hopefully this will get me to actually chip away at my TBR and get y’all on some non-Loki/Tom stories that I occasionally do read 🫡

Everything under the cut

Loki x Reader

Don't Be Shy by @lokisgoodgirl

The way that shy Loki being nervous about not satisfying Agent Y/N has me running around in circles in my living room I can't 🫠🫡

Hostile F*cks: Public Relations by @lokisgoodgirl

A perfect epilogue to this series that was a masterclass of holding your emotions hostage and giving the best payoff. And the fencing pants got a return cameo?? This had me giggling and squeeing and the second the fencing pants came out to play…running laps once again 🫠

An Interesting Theory by @infinitystoner

Completely obsessed with the dynamic between Loki & Reader in this piece. And the ending with Loki deciding that he needs more "data" to "confirm the hypothesis"? I see you, Mischief 😏🫠

The Prince is Dead by @lokisgoodgirl

The beginning had me all teary eyed and ready to fight; the end had me filled with hope and chortling at the tasteful dick joke. LGG really do be a master at holding our emotions hostage with a satisfying payoff at the end 🥹 I live in fear thinking what she could be capable of if she ups and decides to make a piece of just pure angst 😳👀

A Gentlemen's Agreement by @lokisgoodgirl

This had me having some good reminiscing moments of back when I was a Steve girly for a few months in 2015 and also deciding that Bucky's a second simp subject. Distant second, but a second nonetheless. The fact that there's even a second got me doing the Blinking Man at myself--

She is Beauty, She is Grace, She Will Stab You in the Face by @clandestineloki

The adorable dynamic between them when he caught her and saved her from tripping?? Her singing Hamilton without a care in the world? Their whole exchange in the jet after she offed 3 henchmen for hurting her mans?? I love them, your honor.

A Lesson on Behaving by @multifandom-worlds

Reader edging Loki and "suffering" the consequences? With a brief cameo from besties Nat & Wanda trying (and failing hilariously because Reader tried to go and get a snack) to hide her from said consequences? Sign me up and don't expect to be able to contact me for the next few hours because I need to recover from the smut 🥵🫠

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Under Your Spell by @holdmytesseract

A Model AU where Reader's a photographer and she's been hired to do an underwear shoot for Calvin Klein…and Tom's tatted and pierced and--and--*melts on the spot* 🫠 Head empty all thots…that is all 😮‍💨

Bucky Barnes x Reader

shouldn't have gone by @imyourbratzdoll

This had me clutching at my heart going "why would he do this to Reader what the hell"…like no joke I needed a good few mins to start breathing right and not in the fun I just read toe curling smut way. I mean in the "If I try now I might start crying" way 🥲

Ari Levinson x Reader

Like a Broken Record by @howdoyousleep3

Ari with a plus size reader making her feel so empowered & beautiful in bed? The “I’m keeping you” vibe?! This had me 100% completely deceased when I read it while I was out doing groceries (bc y’all know me I should know better than to read smut in public but I never do and I might never will lol).

self-conscious ask by @imyourbratzdoll

This one hit me so close to home and honestly where can I get a boyfriend like this I would very much appreciate one 🥺💖

Give Me One More by @saiyanprincessswanie

This character + this trope = Ally dead in the water. Thank you and goodnight I am not available for comment at this time 🫡

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Fall Kiss by @animnerd

Besties becoming lovers after months apart and having some fluffy wholesome fun on a pile of leaves before having their first kiss? Lemme melt in my spot real quick aaaaaa

Clark Kent/Superman x Reader

It Got Worse by @hannibals-favourite-meal

Clark being a soft lil simp for his fiance while her brother Bruce has a hilarious mix of "I'm happy their happy" and "Why did I ever set them up" is such an adorable dynamic and I need more 🥹

Loki x Reader

rules of conduct: the checkout queue

Thomas Sharpe x Reader

the final Lady Sharpe part 2: a risky endeavor

[foreverisntenough]

i’m so upset and disappointed y/n and trent are fighting in the last chapter i wanted a fluffy ending this could’ve been saved for another chapter or blurb this is unprovoked 😭

Aw 🥺🥺🥺🥺 This makes me so so sad. I'm sorry I upset and disappointed you. I really tried with this chapter but it was so difficult to wrap up their story. I thought the fight was necessary because it served as a way to provide an update on Y/N's health and the strength of their relationship. Y/N is making progress and that they love each other so much they can withstand trials and tribulations as they come. Regular life's ups and downs. Unfortunately, it isn't sunshine and rainbows all the time (even though I'm the one writing it)

I'm sorry you didn't like it though. I think the chapter still ended rather fluffy and I am going to write the epilogue that will have zero angst! Promise xx TYSM for reading still <3