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lokisgoodgirl · 7 months ago

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Measurement : The Rite (III)

A Masterlist for The Rite is HERE A Link to my Regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (3) Loki gives you a taste of luxury, a visit to the Asgardian Weaving Crones - and his inseam isn't the only thing measured up. (w/c 3.9k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smuttish. Language. Loki being a tease. Ridiculous Asgardian lore.

‘I’ve never wanted anything so badly,’ Loki drips in your ear: warm, hot, desperate. With every impossibly calculated push of his hips, your spine arches off the bed: inch, by inch, by inch.

His lips meet the hollow of your collarbone with a hungry growl, like he'll eat you alive. ‘I’ve never wanted anyone so—’ You wake with a violent shudder, wide-eyed and staring at the ceiling. An oil of sweat covers your naked body, tangled in the sheets. The air is sticky, mind racing as you squint towards the window. It’s barely daybreak.

Noon, Loki said. The boy will come at noon.

Loki’s stone-faced apprentice seems unimpressed when you open the door before the second of his tiny knocks. It’s exactly midday. Not desperate at all, you think, as his lips form a thin line. He’s judging the neckline, you can tell.

“After you,” you say, forcing a smile. You don’t like him, and the feeling is clearly mutual. You catch the start of his eye-roll as he turns away and his silly little boots clack across the stone.

Shameless stares fall on the two of you walking the bustling corridors of Asgard’s court. Looks are followed by whispers. It feels…naughty - a tingling feeling that starts in the seat of your belly and seems to plump the ends of your hair, giving it a bounce as you walk.

You wonder what they’re thinking, seeing you led by the boy with Loki’s symbol emblazoned on his chest. You hope they think it’s something scandalous. And, maybe it is.

At every turn, you expect to see Loki standing in the middle of the corridor with his hands clasped behind his back; a smirk curling at his lip and the start of a hard-on in his ridiculously tight trousers at the mere whiff of your approach. But alas, it’s not to be. Just more stares, more whispers. They’re starting to get annoying.

“How much longer?” you hiss. He glances over his shoulder. “Not long, pipe down,” he says with all the enthusiasm of a bag of sand.

You stick your tongue out at the back of his head and suddenly his fist rises, a burst of blue smoke curling between his fingers. It undulates in the air, a ball gaining the shape of a small fist identical to his own. Slowly, one finger unfurls in your direction: the middle one.

Little shit, you think. But honestly, it’s pretty impressive. Loki's clearly teaching him well. Sort of.

Eventually, after passing through the courtyard and out the palace gates, he stops under a lemon tree. There’s a massive, bronze door cut into the stone walls with one large turret protruding from the top. Your eyes dart over the door, and then to him, and then the door.

“Well?” you ask, trying to be polite but the impatience bleeding through. This dress is pretty tight; your breasts look incredible but fucking Norns, it’s hot today. He gestures to the tree. “You have to bite into a lemon to open the doors.”

Your arms fold, eyebrows rising. “Be serious. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

His beady gaze drops down to the hem of your dress and back to your face. “Clearly,” he says. Your eyebrows rise further and you chew the inside of your mouth, reminding yourself he’s a literal child. He shrugs with a sudden burst of youthful innocence. “I don’t make the rules. It's some kind of test so they get no time wasters.”

“Who?” “The Crones.” No...way.

The Asgardian Weaving Crones are second only to the royal family in their legendary status. How many times had you pranced around in your aunt’s scrap fabrics from her sewing table, playing 'Ceremony' – inventing all the spells you’d have woven into the fabrics the Crones create with their famously nobbled fingers. The more nobbled, the more revered.

It's said the robes can make you more beautiful, more lucky, more fertile. Whatever you desired. Every piece is a work of art, cost more than a summer-palace in the hills, reserved only for the highest…highest…members of the court. I guess Prince Loki wasn’t kidding about the luxury, you think, eyes sliding to the plump lemons hanging over your head. “Just a bite?” The boy nods, and you reach up – pulling down the nearest one. He gives an unnerving smile of encouragement just before you bite into the peel, and stinging juice floods your tongue. A rogue spurt splashes into your eye and you yelp, dropping it on the ground. Through the burn, doubled-over, you see a fading wisp of blue smoke. Little shit, you think again, more violently this time. “What’s going on?” Loki’s voice is somehow everywhere all at once, smooth and heavy in the stifling air, falling like rain.

You squint up towards it. He’s hanging out a window in the turret, propped on his elbow with that smirk on his face. But no hard-on, you think. At least, not that you can see. Rumour is he’s always sporting at least a semi. Side-effect of all the mirrors in the palace, you figure. From this angle, his taut jawline cuts like an anvil, and his hair hangs apart from his shoulders as he cranes to get a better view. He's not wearing a shirt, and the temperature rises another few degrees. “Are you tormenting her?” he chides casually, and through the half-blind haze, you can tell the boy is squirming. The bronze door swings open from invisible hands, and you shoot the kid a withering glare with your one good eye before disappearing inside. The first, fresh waft of marble-chilled air hits like an orgasm and you let out a sigh of relief. “Come upstairs,” Loki’s velvet voice commands from above. You follow the spiral staircase in the direction of his soft laughter, skirts bunched in one hand, hoping your face isn’t as sweaty as it feels by the time you reach the top.

Ignoring the burn in your lungs, and your eye, you set your face in a mask of cool indifference totally at odds with the rabid excitement clawing in your veins. Long curtains of chiffon which ripple in impossible colours with each waft of breeze surround the turret walls.

Loki lounges in a chaise in the corner, loose green silk trousers slung low on his hips. One leg dangles off the end of the short seat, the other slung to the side as his laugh tapers and his eyes fix on you.

You swallow, unable to stop the rolls of your gaze up his exposed torso above the silk stretched across the bulge in his pants: pale, deep lines of muscle highlighted in painfully arousing definition as he brings a hand behind his head, raking those black waves back as he does it.

“Did he ask you to bite into the lemons?” Loki asks innocently. A solitary dimple crushes into his cheek as one side of his lip curls. You nod, mouth dry and knees weak. Loki sighs with a short tut. “He did the same to my brother. And what’s worse, my brother has been here before many times: he’s just an idiot.” You’re not sure if you should agree. It might be treason; you can never tell. Thankfully – that’s the moment you notice someone in a black robe hunched over at a wide table in the corner, laying out a selection of colourful fabrics so fine they seem to breathe. “Like what you see?” she croaks, wearing a matching smirk to the one Loki sports, just visible beneath a dark hood. You swallow, glancing between them. The two of them burst into laughter; the old woman’s hoarse cackle somehow twists perfectly with Loki’s deep, melodic mirth. Heat crawls up your cheeks. She waves a hand, brushing the hood down to reveal a shock of white hair plaited in a low bun, folds of tanned wrinkles creased in mischief. “Sorry dear, where are my manners? This one brings out the worst in me.” Loki scoffs, bounding from the chaise and crossing the floor in two long strides. He falls to his knees, gathering her hands in his own and places a gentle kiss on the crepey skin. The way he’s looking at her, the wide-eyed sincerity...it makes an unexpected lance of jealousy spear through your chest.

“And you bring out the best in me, my dearest Lagertha,” he says in earnest. “Still beautiful: inside and out.” She pulls the hands from his with a quicksilver grin, curling thick chunk of black hair behind his ear. “Mmm,” she hums, flashing you a wink. “At least where garments are concerned, I do my best. What you do in them, is your concern. Now, onto your usual perch.”

Loki raises a eyebrow and she watches him stand. The two of you follow the methodical shift of his muscular ass in those silky pants all the way to a small, raised block in the centre of the room. “You’re next, dear,” she says and you startle, realising she’s hovering at your shoulder. She turns her head fractionally, hiding the movement of her lips from view. “For now, take a seat, enjoy the show. Hmm?”

You shift to the same seat Loki occupied, still warm from his body. Spreading your skirts, it’s difficult not to feel the weight of the prince’s stare as Lagertha fusses around him.

And suddenly, the questions start. Loki’s eyes narrow and widen in perfect time to the cadence of your answers: hobbies, studies, the time you saw Thor fall into a well on his way back from a tavern. His laugh is music, as sweet and filthy as the best of your dreams – and you find yourself reclining on the chaise just like he was, a fist resting beneath your temple as you talk. It’s nice, it’s…easy. He's interested. And all the while, Lagertha works silently; the only indicator she’s listening at all is the covert smile that occasionally pushes her cheeks up.

“You have to stop making him laugh so much, the hemline will be askew if I get the lengths wrong.” “Nonsense,” Loki smiles down at her, before meeting your eyes again. “Lagertha has never put a stitch out of place. I have every faith in her.” “You’ve never had someone entertain you so much before…”

“I thought you’d have his measurements written down somewhere,” you say like the three of you are old friends. She pushes the silken tape into the hollow of his ankle, stretching up the length of his thigh to the bulge of his crotch. Loki shifts, spine straightening, and he shoots you a wicked smile that makes the pulse in your throat race.

You trace the angle of his chin, the sharp lines of his jaw, imagining how perfectly they’ll fit between your legs; only his strong brow and devastating eyes drunk with pleasure visible as he laps at your clit. A shudder wrenches down your spine.

“I don’t need to take Prince Loki’s measurements, dear,” Lagertha says brightly. ‘I’ve been fashioning garments that make his public weak for many centuries, I think I can remember an inseam.” “So why are…?” “Lagertha and I have an understanding, don’t we darling?” Loki tips her chin up with his finger and even beneath the heavy folds of wrinkles, she blushes. “Lagertha turns a blind eye to my family’s archaic demands of style, and we pretend that she forgets my measurements.” Lagertha meets your stunned expression, offering a self-assured shrug. “I may be old, but my eyes are just fine,” she says, winking. Suddenly, you wonder where Lagertha’s been all your life.

“What…demands of style, do they have?” You sit up, crossing your legs. Loki tilts his head, and you note his gaze drop to your lips. You wonder if he’s been thinking about last night’s kiss-come-dry-hump as much as you have, and as Lagertha loops her hands around his bare abdomen, pulling the measuring silk tight, he lets out a sensual, silent ooof that makes your pussy clench.

“My father and his ilk have very set notions of what ceremonial robes should be; you’ll be shocked to learn I don’t agree. In their eyes, we should parade ourselves in sack cloth and ashes—" “—Sack cloth? How dare you!” Lagertha screeches, mortally wounded. She slaps his thigh again, shooting you a look. “This one has a very specific set of requirements for his ceremonial garbs, ones that tend to highlight his…assets. Things which don’t concern the other family members quite so much – not even when Odin was a strapping one too." She sighs wistfully. "Loki likes the spells woven in to be just so: make it smell like orange blossom when the folds move, cape fluttering to a particular rhythm…that sort of thing.” I fucking knew it; you think with silent vindication. Loki looks down on her with adoration. “And you never disappoint.” “You should be more worried about disappointing her,” she jabs, nodding towards you. A sudden clarity settles in your stomach like a stone. “Wait, is this for our…the…Rite?” Loki looks up, impossibly beautiful; a slat of sunlight splitting the symmetry of his face. “You agree, then?” “If you don’t, I will…” Lagertha mutters loud enough for you to hear, and Loki snorts. “You know the stipulations, Lagertha. You don’t qualify, much as it pains me.” He presses a hand to his chest. “Otherwise, I’d have been at your door on my hands and knees centuries ago.” She slaps his thigh again, and then, they both look at you in perfect sync.

“I agree. I’ll be your partner,” you blurt without an ounce of doubt. As if it could have been any other way. Because now, as his eyes fall to your lips again and his tongue nips over his own; pulling the bottom one between his teeth like he doesn’t know he’s done it, you know he wants it as much as you do. Loki says nothing: a close-lipped smile skating across his lips and a regal bow of his head that his father would be proud of.

The next fifteen minutes passes in pleasantries and then, it’s your turn. You stand on the podium. Even in the strangely cool air in this secret place feels like hot needles; breaths growing short and heart hammering. The fucking…bodice, you curse as Loki’s expression hardens at your distress. He raises his hand, long fingers poised and his eyebrows raise like he’s asking for permission. You give him a small nod. He clicks them. The dress melts into a light cotton shift that blows around your ankles, and the relief is immediate. “Oh my…gods, Loki…that feels amazing,” you moan, head falling back. Lagertha shuffles at your feet. “Getting some practice in, good idea, dear.” Your neck snaps up, catching the back end of her sly smirk, before glancing to Loki reclined on the chair. He shrugs, picking at a bowl of nuts – his eyes are alight with amusement, and you wonder if he's always like this or you’re…special. Don’t think that, you chide. Don’t start being an idiot and actually falling for him. He needs you, that’s all. Just enjoy whatever this is.

Somehow, your measurements don’t take as long as Loki’s did. You’ve got a feeling that has something to do with the agreement they have. She creaks to her feet, shuffling to the wide table and notes something down on a scroll of parchment which reaches the floor. “Oh,” she says suddenly, patting the long folds of her black garb. One extra-nobbled finger rises. “I left something in the other room. Stay here,” she says, hobbling to the stairs. She glances over a hunched shoulder. “Behave yourselves, won’t you?” You figure it would be rude to follow her down the stairs to make sure she doesn’t fall to her death. Looking at Loki, you’re surprised to see the mirth dancing beneath his skin has somehow grown. “What?” you ask, skin prickling under his stare. The god’s dark hair spreads over his bare shoulders, the point of his chin lowered as he observes you beneath his lashes. Something occurs to you. “There’s only one room in this place, isn’t there?”

Without breaking eye-contact, without a falter in that low smirk, Loki nods. Just once. You step off the podium, wobbling a little. Forgot he took my shoes, but somehow you manage to maintain a sultry approach. Loki straightens against the chair’s back, a sudden nervousness flashing in his eyes. A silent conversation seems to pass between you. ‘What are you doing, little owl?’ his raised eyebrow says. ‘What are you doing?’ His legs widen, as if of their own accord. The forest green silk at his crotch stretches tight, an unmistakable bump rising on the right-hand side. You stop in front of him, and his eyes move from their level place on your torso to your face. ‘What are you waiting for?’ the flicker of his lips says.

Hands slide past his temples as you fasten one knee beside the thick line of his thigh – and then the second. You press tight to the crease of his hips, staring down at him. Loki of Asgard gazes up like the prettiest sub you’ve ever seen; but there’s nothing submissive about the slide of his large hands over the curve of your ass. The cotton of the robe he manifested for you is as thin as a spider web – but somehow opaque. You feel his touch like it’s bare skin; the lazy circles he’s making on the small of your back sending sharp shivers tingle across your limbs. “We must be very, very careful…” he murmurs, that famously stoic brow rippling in front of your eyes. You draw a finger down his cheek, cupping the angle of his jaw; brushing your lips against his. He sighs into your throat: shuddering, warm, desperate. Loki’s tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. Growls rumble in his chest as he pushes forward and pulls back in time with your body, completely in sync. Your hand creeps to his cock, fingers grazing the impossibly hard length of him. He must be eight…surely not nine, inches. Gods, what if he doesn’t fit. And then you remember, that isn’t part of the deal. He pulls away as your squeeze at the root, stark fear in his eyes.

“I know��I’ll stay away from the tip, I promise,” you whisper, catching his lips again. Loki melts into it.

His cock was made to fit in your hand – even the outline of it through the silk is like a legendary sword made for your grip. He palms ravenously at your breast with every work of his mouth, lips travelling to the curve of your neck and drawing his teeth over the supple skin they find.

The fact you can’t touch him…really touch him, somehow makes it even hotter; like you’re terrified virgins around the back of the stables. The other hand rocks you dangerously on his lap, and the sudden fear the thin fabric separating you both won’t be enough is very real. Loki’s thumb grazes against your nipple, pinching gently, rubbing in a way that shoots a lance of primal fuck-me energy straight to your cunt. Arousal tides between your thighs: tacky and warm and screaming for you to have him right here. You’ve never been more turned on in your entire life. You didn’t even know it could be like this.

“Gods, I want to taste you,” he husks through gritted teeth. Saliva rings his lips, and Loki’s head falls back against the sofa, back arching under the ghost of your fingertips trailing up the ridges of his manhood like it’s made of spun sugar. “Slower…Norns…I—"

His eyes fly open, pupils as wide and deep as fresh tar and his jaw slack. Loki’s hand flies to your wrist, wrapping it tight and pulling it away. His abdomen clenches as he breathes: slow, heavy, restrained.

“Did you almost…?”

The look in his eyes gives you the answer, and you can barely stifle the look of pride. You lean forwards, noting the shiver that tightens his thighs as your lips fasten around his earlobe. “Four moons, my prince," you whisper, bold as sin. He releases a low, ragged exhale that vibrates through his chest.

“I need to see you,” he says slowly, searching your face, “every day, from now until then.” You roll your lips together. “You said there was a feast?” Loki nods. “The night before – for the next two days, we can do whatever we want.” That smirk lights from its embers. “Almost.”

Your heart drops somewhere around your knees and you shuffle off his lap, shifting to the small edge of the cushion beside him. Suddenly, somehow, time is moving too fast; slipping through your fingers like sand. “Not that I’m…” -desperate- “…but, are you free tonight? Maybe we could go for a walk, or, something.”

Loki’s brows peak. It’s something he isn’t expecting, and suddenly you wonder how much of this charming afternoon has been staged. “I can’t, I’m afraid,” he says, lingering over each word like its passing quality control. “My brother-“ “-It’s fine,” you cut, forcing a smile. He’s a prince. Of course he’s not free, idiot. “Maybe tomorrow.”

At that moment, Lagertha heaves herself into view at the top of the staircase. Her face contorts in a staggeringly fake caricature of innocence. “Oh, I almost forgot you were here.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see Loki pluck a cushion from his side and place it on his lap. But Lagertha misses nothing, and her eyes slide to yours with a sparkle of approval.

“I’ll take my leave,” you say, standing and giving a quick curtsey. Loki calls your name as you cross the floor, but you need to go. You need to think – shake away these ridiculous, girlish thoughts in your brain before you embarrass yourself any further.

A faint glow of green colours your vision and you realise Loki’s magic has restored the dress you came in, and like before…it’s far too tight. At the bottom of the stairs, you press a hand against the marble; steading your breaths. The bronze door swings open.

“Ah, the jester,” a sneering voice craws. “Are you lost?”

You look up, locking eyes with Fandral. A cape slings jauntily over his shoulder: pale blue, rippling silk the same colour as the cloudless sky. His hair is particularly resplendent today, and as much as you’d like to kick him in the balls and run – he does hold clout. People like him, for some reason.

Fandral chuckles, and it makes your stomach turn. He paces forward, the tap of his heels on marble echoing until they stop in front of you. “May I offer a little advice?” he asks, in a way that says you’re hearing it whether you like it or not.

“Prince Loki likes shiny things, pretty things.” His eyes narrow. “He likes playing with new toys; the novelty, you know? I’m sure rumours of his appetites have even spread to whichever hovel you crawled out of.”

You open your mouth to call him a cunt but he raises a finger to his lips, eyes closed like you’ve interrupted the sweetest melody in the nine realms. They open slowly. “I will perform the Rite with Prince Loki, little jester. It will be my thighs shaking under the work of his regal, royal mouth. And do you know why?”

Anger, white hot and thick, curdles beneath your skin.

“Because,” he says with black delight, eyes dropping down to your feet and back to your face, “the pleasure of the subject is only one part of the ritual. You cannot possibly fulfil the second.”

He leans forward, and the scent of his cologne chokes up your nostrils. “But I can.” Fandral twirls the golden lock hanging over his forehead and stalks towards the spiral staircase. The periwinkle cape shimmers as he spins.

“I expect he didn’t tell you about that,” he says with feigned regret, pouting. It crawls into a shit-eating smile, and he offers a wink that makes your blood freeze.

“For him, you’re just a bit of mischief - best you know sooner, rather than later. You'll thank me...sometime. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a certain ceremonial robe to be measured for.”

The click of his heels ascending to the turret room fades as you tear gasping into the open air; heart hammering as you run; his words beating in your ears with every breath.

Chapter Four: Daylight Orgy The Masterlist for The Rite is HERE ❤️🕯️❤️ Tags in comments x

#the rite🕯️#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki x reader smut #loki x you smut #loki x yn #loki x female reader #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki

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wheeboo · 1 year ago

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venus | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which the love between you and the prince is forbidden. PAIRING. prince!choi seungcheol x servant-commoner!reader (ft. servant-commoner!chan very briefly) GENRE. fluff, angst with a hopeful ending?, forbidden love, royalty au, arranged marriage au (cheol is in an arranged marriage), established secret relationship WARNINGS. cheol and reader both have a lil argument, terms of endearment (darling, love, sweetheart), kissing WORD COUNT. 3.8k

note: fic is vaguely inspired by the bridge part of this song called "venus" by regina song 🫶💕 this is also my first time writing a royalty au, so i hope you enjoy! this also features the very iconic "you came" "you called" line 😭

The ballroom of Pledis Palace is charged with an air of enchantment. The time had just reached the peak of evening. Moonlight filters through the large, grand windows, bathing the open room in an ethereal glow. Along the sides of the ballroom are intricately carved golden marble columns, each one painted with a different tale of the kingdom's past.

In the middle of the ceiling sits a majestic chandelier hanging from a massive, golden chain. The piece is the crown jewel of the ballroom, one that easily draws visitors into all its glory and beauty, and it casts a radiant gleam that seemed to rain down like stardust upon the guests below.

The dance floor reflects the light from the chandelier, creating an illusion of stars twinkling at one's feet. You watch all the elegantly-dressed guests move with grace across the room. The women are all dressed with precise attention to detail, their gowns and jewelry like works of art on a canvas. Some wear dresses in shades of amethyst, emerald, and sapphire, embroidered with beautiful beadwork that glistens like constellations, while others prefer flowing gowns in delicate pastels, as if they've stepped out of a fairytale.

They all hold onto their partners𑁋lavish gentlemen dressed in sophistically tailored suits matching the colours of their ladies' gowns𑁋with utmost love and enjoyment, while you find yourself standing at the side, holding up a tray of drinks as a particular heaviness settles in your chest.

And as your eyes drift ever so slightly, you swear that regardless what direction you look in, he's always there at the end of it, like a light at the end of the tunnel. Yet the light this time was dim and lacked almost all the hope that used to be there when you looked at him.

Not only is the royal family of Pledis here, but also a second one. The Choi royal family of Pledis, and of course, the future in-laws.

Prince Choi Seungcheol is dancing with poise that appeared almost effortless, eyes locked in a tender gaze to his future betrothed, yet the smile to his face doesn't quite reach his eyes. It's the same kind of gaze during the times he would be with you, like in the secret corners of the royal garden that only the two of you knew, or in the times you both snuck out of the castle at the wee hours of the night to stargaze, or the intimate nights you spent with him in his quarters where you had to leave just before daybreak.

It's those times where the certain line between nobility and commoner could be momentarily blurred. It's those times where you both truly felt free in more ways than one.

As you continue to watch the dance and see the way he twirls his betrothed with ease, the world seems to blur, and it felt as if it was just you and Seungcheol in this grand ballroom. His eyes, so familiar yet so distant, meet yours in a fleeting moment. His face falls instantly.

The world and time may have pulled you apart, but in that stolen glance, you were brought back together. In your eyes, you saw the prince who had defied tradition and chosen to be with you without boundaries. In his eyes, he saw the commoner who had been his confidant and, more importantly, his secret love.

"Why are you just standing there? Go tend to your duties," the steward advises you annoyedly, snapping you out of your focus. With a start, you fix your posture, offering a quick nod of understanding to the stern-faced steward.

Hastily, you resume your duty, walking through the large crowd, presenting the tray of drinks and feeling their odd looks linger on you as you move past them. They're taunting you, not with words, but with their subtle, condescending glances. The weight in your chest only deepens with each step you take.

You reach the outskirts of the dance floor, casting another glance towards Seungcheol. His elegant moves and the seemingly affectionate way he held his betrothed gives a bittersweet feeling to your chest, and you can't help but briefly imagine yourself there with him instead𑁋being the one at the end of his smile, the end of his touch.

As the music swelled, the dance finally comes to an end. You watch as the prince gracefully leads his betrothed back to her seat, a warm smile on his face. You know he didn't have much of a choice. He had an obligation to the kingdom, to his family, and to the future over the love he had once whispered to you in the hidden corners of the royal gardens.

Your heart aches again, but you understand. You couldn't be a part of his world, no matter how much he cared for you.

You don't catch the way his eyes follow you once you dismiss yourself out of the ballroom, struggling to hold your tears back.

"Y/N, don't you think you overwatered this area right here?" Chan, a fellow gardener for the royal garden and closest friend, taps lightly on your shoulder, startling you out of your daze and nearly the watering can in your hands. You blink rapidly, bringing yourself back to the present.

All you manage is a weak smile, some embarrassment and guilt flooding your senses. "Sorry, I... I guess my mind was elsewhere."

He gives you a knowing look, gaze sympathetic yet encouraging. "It's okay. I know things haven't been the best recently." He gestures toward the grand castle behind you, its towers standing tall and proud. You know exactly what he's talking about, and it makes you let out a sigh, facing back towards the garden in front of you.

You've poured your heart into the royal garden for so long, finding comfort in its quiet beauty and the therapeutic rhythm of tending to its blooms from day to night.

As the sun dips below the horizon and the moon begins to rise, the garden transforms into a world of magic. The abundance of flowers surrounding you seem to glow vibrantly under the moonlight, and their scent becomes more rich in the cool night air. The air carries a gentle breeze, and the soft rustle of leaves soothes your troubled mind.

There was just something about simply being with nature𑁋in the royal garden and with the beauty that exists outside its walls𑁋that allows you to breathe more freely. Sometimes, you swear that even the flowers are capable of whispering words of their own, as if sharing stories with you alone, or stories that you used to listen to with one particular man.

Just as you're about to finish watering one last final section, you hear Chan's distant voice from afar.

"Y-Your Highness! What brings you here at this hour?"

You freeze in place, the almost-empty watering can slipping from your fingers as you turn around.

Prince Seungcheol stands at the edge of the garden, his gracious figure silhouetted against the moonlit scenery. He's dressed in his nighttime attire, a pair of simple yet elegant black trousers and a crisp white shirt that flows slightly in the cool breeze. His gaze flickers between you and Chan, a hint of curiosity in his expression, and the two of you both offer a respectful bow in his direction as he approaches.

"I just wanted some fresh air," Seungcheol answers sharply, locking his eyes with yours, and there's a small smile that graces his lips once he catches sight of you. "It's peaceful here in the garden, isn't it?"

You heart only flutters to his words, yet that arrow of sadness pierces through your chest. However, even below the auroral skies and with the intoxicating fragrance of flowers all around, your heart feels lighter than it has in a long time.

"Chan, you may excuse us for a moment." He gestures to the young boy, his voice carrying a warm, reassuring tone that you've longed to hear.

With a quick nod, Chan offers a polite bow, shooting you a glance before slipping his way back in the direction of the castle, leaving you alone with Seungcheol.

Seungcheol approaches you, the distance between you decreasing until you're standing just a breath away from each other. You both remain in a contemplative silence, neither of you wanting to break the fragile moment that has been rekindled after so long.

Finally, he speaks in a hushed tone. "You've been avoiding me."

Your gaze is quick to fall to the ground in guilt, unable to meet his eyes.

"You know I had to," You reply simply, voice barely more than a whisper. "We can't be together, Cheol. You should know this better than me. It was the only choice you had. Duty called, and you answered."

Seungcheol's face only contorts with a mix of anguish and frustration. "Duty? Duty won't keep me warm at night, Y/N. Duty won't make me feel alive. You are what my heart longs for. You should know this. This is all purely arranged, don't you remember?"

You let out an audible scoff, feeling your hands crumple into fists at your side. "You're being selfish right now. Think about the kingdom, your family, and the future you're meant to build. Don't you see why we can't... we can't be together? It's inevitable. We shouldn't..." Your find your voice drifting away, words getting caught in your throat.

He steps even closer, his frustration boiling over into desperation. "I am thinking about them. I think about them every day, but I... I can't stop thinking about you either. I can't stop loving you."

"This love won't feed the hungry, Seungcheol. This love won't protect our people. This love won't secure the kingdom's future. This love won't change the fact that I'm merely a commoner and you're a prince."

The moonlight accentuates the sadness in his eyes as your words sink in, and you find yourself unable to hold back the tears that have welled up. The two of you only stand there for a few long moments, simply gazing in each other's glassy eyes, feeling like the garden itself was holding in a breath of its own.

Then in a sudden moment of vulnerability, you step closer to him, resting your head against his chest, taking in his familiar warmth and the scent you've longed for as your tears stain his shirt. Seungcheol wraps you in his strong arms, pulling you closer, and you feel his heartbeat against your body, steady and comforting. It's a sound you've always loved listening to whenever you embraced each other.

"I've missed you, darling," he mutters quietly. "Don't you understand how much you mean to me?"

With his arms around you, you feel a warmth that fills the void in your heart. It's a sensation you've yearned for the past few torturous months.

"I-I've missed you too," You confess, voice trembling. "But... but we can't𑁋"

"Please," he pleads softly, tightening his hold around you. "Can't I just hold you?"

The tenderness his voice holds cuts you off, and you can't help the way your fingers instinctively knead at his shirt.

Seungcheol holds you tightly, as if he's afraid that letting go will make you vanish into thin air. In this fleeting moment, there's no kingdom to rule, no traditions to uphold𑁋just the two of you, reunited in an embrace that disregards the confines of your roles. It's as if the world beyond this secluded royal garden has ceased to exist, and for the first time in a long while, you feel truly alive.

"I love you," he murmurs, voice heavy with sorrow, his lips brushing against your hair. "I love you more than anything in this world."

Usually that particularly intimate exchange brings those flutters to your stomach and a giddy smile to your face, but instead, it only makes your heart throb. Though you know with every fibre in your body that it's true𑁋that you love each other. It's not a secret, nor a feeling to deny.

You find yourself pulling away slightly, angling your head up to be able to take a look at him. His gaze meets yours halfway, and the intensity in his dark pupils nearly takes your breath away. He searches your eyes for a moment, before drawing his lips near yours, his intent clear. For a heartbeat, you're tempted to give in𑁋to taste the sweetness of his kiss once more.

But then the weight of responsibility, the duty you've always known, everything, pulls you back.

"I-I can't," You whisper, the words escaping your lips shakily. "We can't, Seungcheol. It-It's not right."

Seungcheol's breath hitches as you pull away. His lips hover just inches from yours, yearning for a connection that seems increasingly unattainable.

"I know," he replies quietly, his voice barely more than a breath. He still doesn't want to let you go. "I understand. I'm sorry."

You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, caressing his skin softly. "The kingdom needs you. Your people need you. They need a strong, capable leader. They need their prince."

Seungcheol's jaw tightens. "And what about what I need? What about what my heart seeks?"

You only gaze longingly at him. The two of you know the answer to that. You don't have to say anything before he understands with a sigh. His expression softens with a mix of resignation and affection, and he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"Your Highness, your presence is requested back in the palace," Chan's voice calls out from behind, breaking the fragile moment between the two of you.

Seungcheol releases your hand defeatedly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer.

However, instead of backing away, he leans back in close to whisper into your ears, "Come meet me at the royal ballroom tomorrow at midnight," Then he pauses, contemplating, and adding on, "if you wish, of course."

Then his lips curl into a bittersweet smile before turning away to leave. The sound of his footsteps gradually fades as he walks away back towards the palace, leaving you standing amidst the fragrant blooms and under the rays of soft moonlight.

Come meet me at the royal ballroom... midnight... if you wish. Seungcheol's words have been echoing in your mind for the entirety of the day, sometimes even distracting you from the duties you are assigned to in the royal garden.

The more you thought over his invitation, the more it felt like an impossible temptation, knowing well of the risks and consequences it could bring.

The day passes in a blur, the sun making its daily journey across the sky, casting a warm and inviting glow over the palace and the royal garden. And when the late night finally takes over, and the clock strikes midnight, you find yourself cautiously walking down the large corridor of the palace, your feet instinctively bringing you in the direction of the royal ballroom. It's eerily quiet at this time, nothing but skeleton staff that still heightens your paranoid senses of getting caught.

Yet as you stop in front of the grand doors of the ballroom, your heart quickens its pace. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Should you really be doing this? Was it entirely a good idea to be here?

But just the thought of simply him draws you in, your hand briefly gliding over the glistening doorknob.

With a determined sigh, you take the leap and push the heavy doors open. The ballroom lies before you, bathed in the silvery luminescence filtering through the grand windows. Your heart races as you step inside.

The ballroom is empty, deserted practically. All of the lights, including the large chandelier, were switched off, the only source coming from the outside world through the tall windows.

As you step further into the room, the sounds of your shoes echoing throughout, the sheer emptiness of the place becomes more apparent. You swear you even hear your own thoughts bouncing off the walls of the room. Doubts start to creep into your mind. What if he doesn't come? What if this was all a mistake?

However, just as you're about to give in to the feeling of hopelessness, you hear a soft sound from behind you. You turn to find Seungcheol entering the ballroom and closing the door shut. He's dressed in a simple black suit, and there's a twinge of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrors your own.

"You came," he says, and his voice is so soft that you can barely hear it over your racing heart.

You fully turn yourself to him, swallowing down a nervous lump in your throat.

"You called."

Seungcheol's eyes light up, and a faint smile crosses his lips as he steps closer to you. The moonlight bathes him in an celestial glow, accentuating his princely features. But in this moment, he's just the man you've been in love with for so long.

He extends his hand toward you, eyes locked onto yours, inviting you to share a dance with him.

"May I?" he asks gentlemanly, and it sends a rush of heat to your cheeks.

You hesitate for a brief moment, glancing down at his hand and back up to his face. "I... I don't know how..."

Seungcheol's smile remains warm and encouraging, his hand still extended toward you.

"It's okay," he says softly. "I'll teach you. Just follow my lead."

Tentatively, you place your hand in his. His grip is firm yet gentle as he guides you to the centre of the empty dance floor, a certain eager bounce in his step that you notice, and the stars painting the ground seem to come to life as you stand with him. Seungcheol places his hand on your waist, and the warmth of his palm against your skin sends shivers down your spine. You loop your arms around his neck, trying to steady your breathing as you prepare to follow his lead.

At first, your steps are awkward, but you try your best to mimic the elegance and grace that he naturally possesses. He's probably had personal training for this kind of thing, You think.

You chuckle at the small moments where your feet accidentally bump or you step on his toes, and Seungcheol's laughter mingles with yours. Nothing but a soft melody of an imagined song fills the silence as the two of you move together in the middle of the ballroom.

"You're doing great," he whispers, breath brushing against your ear as you sway together.

It's scarily easy to lose yourself in Seungcheol's eyes. They're the same eyes that once whispered secrets of love to you beneath the stars. Now they say a lot without saying anything.

You don't know how long you've been dancing, but it feels like an eternity and a fleeting moment all at once. The world outside the ballroom may be waiting, filled with your separate responsibilities and expectations, but in this moment, it's just you and him.

"Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?" Seungcheol comments, even though you were only dressed in your servant uniform.

Your cheeks flush at his compliment, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze, and offer a shy smile. "I'm not as stunning as the ladies at the court, nor your betrothed."

Seungcheol gently tilts your chin upward, making sure you meet his eyes.

"Every time I look at you, I feel like I fall in love all over again." His thumb brushes lightly against your cheek. "Every time I watch you down tending to the garden through my quarters, I feel as if you're tending to my heart. I can simply say that you're the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on, sweetheart."

His words make your heart swell out of your chest, his grip on your waist tightening imperceptibly, drawing you closer to him. The space between you vanishes, and you can feel the heat of his body seeping through the layers of fabric that separate you. Seungcheol could shower you with praises all day long, and you would never tire of hearing them. He has a way of making you feel special, cherished, and utterly adored.

"Cheol?" You call out, voice tinged with vulnerability.

He raises an eyebrow, still guiding you through the dance. "Yes, love?"

"Are we crazy for doing this?" You ask. It's meant to be rhetorical in a way, but the uncertainty in your voice lingers, and Seungcheol's expression becomes more serious.

He slows the movement between you two, his pensive eyes locked onto yours.

"Perhaps we are," he admits wholeheartedly. "but I'd rather be crazy with you than live a life without you."

His words quietly suspend in the air around you. The moments pass, but they feel eternal, as if time itself has momentarily paused to let the two of you be together. You're captured in his eyes, just like he is with yours. You see the emotions he's trying to convey: love, longing, and the knowledge that this moment is both a blessing and a curse.

And then without a word, you both lean in at the same time, lips meeting each other's in a kiss both softly and tenderly. It's a stolen moment; it's a secret scene that only the moon and stars witness.

His arms pull you closer, fingers dancing along your spine, as if he's trying to bridge any space that might exist between you. It's a kiss that tastes of bittersweet nostalgia𑁋something of what once was and what could never be. You savour the taste of him on your lips, knowing that once the morning light arrives, this moment may become nothing more than a distant memory.

As your lips break away, you both draw back slightly, foreheads touching, breathing heavily as you savour the precious seconds of closeness.

"You know that I'd give up everything for you," he whispers, breath warm against your skin.

You only smile, tracing your fingers gently over his lips. He leans into your touch.

"I know," You say softly. "And I would do the same for you."

"But just for tonight." He pushes back some strands of hair behind your ear. "Can we pretend that the world doesn't matter?"

You peer into his eyes, and for a moment, you see a reflection of your own pining. Your heart sinks, but it also rises. A smile drifts across your face, but it also carries a trace of sadness. Leaning in, you nearly press your lips against his once again, but then you take in a deep breath.

"Yes," is all you mutter. "I'm all yours."

That's all it takes for him to kiss you again, a bit more fervently and urgently that it nearly makes you stumble in surprise. But the second you pull back from each other, he's grabbing your hand in his, a bright smile to his face, before twirling you around and pulling you in close once more, your laughter echoing in the empty ballroom together. You share one more kiss, and then another, and another, whispers of hushed I love you's against each other’s lips as the night goes on like it will never end.

And it's with each minute that passes that only strengthens Seungcheol's determination𑁋that in some way, he will make sure you both will be together, whether that means escaping the constraints of your worlds, finding a way to keep your love alive in secret, or even sacrificing a part of himself.

With each kiss, he silently promises you that he will find a way. With each kiss, you silently promise to love and wait for him.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1

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whimsicalwritingsandmore · 10 months ago

Text

Aurorise | ateez x reader

Pairing: prince!ateez x dancer!reader

Genre: royalty, historical fiction, poly, adventure

Word Count: 2278 words

Summary: The story of how you, a dancer, upheaved an entire monarchy all by falling in love with eight princes.

a/n: and so it begins... :)

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Chapter 2

Royal betrothals took place on the night of the Spring Equinox. Five years ago, when your cousin became engaged to Prince Chan, you left the village to pursue the dance group with your close-knit group of friends — Hoshi, Woozi, Hoseok, Moonbyul and Sakura.

As soon as daybreak arrived, the village was already stirring with frenzied movement and bustling commotion. The villagers excitedly and animatedly rushed about, chattering amongst themselves of who might become the Princes’ royal consort. And when the sun began to descend upon the horizon and night crept in, everyone hurriedly gathered in their designated spots in the palace courtyard, awaiting the verdict.

In your Kingdom, not only nobles participated in this event, but also families whose parents either worked in the royal army or the royal court. Your father was the Head of the Royal Guard alongside his brother who was his Second in Command. They bravely and fearlessly defended the Kingdom from opposing forces. However, after a failed and near disastrous peace treaty alliance, he left the position and opened a practice academy to help young men who were interested in joining the royal army when they came of age to prepare themselves.

Your father’s dedication to the royal army even after resigning his post pleased the King and so, the royal treasury funded your father’s academy. This led to your family remaining in good graces with the royal family even if your Father and the King were no longer close as before, but it did fracture your relationships with the villagers, who were profusely calling and beseeching for financial aid to no avail.

As a result, if there was one thing the villagers delighted in more than anything, was the possibility of seeing your family embarrassed and humiliated by the royal family. All eyes were on you since your older sister had married the son of one of your father’s colleagues, and there were no princesses in the royal family for your brother to court.

The betrothal was to determine the future partners of Prince Chan and Prince Seonghwa and you were of age to participate but, in contrast your cousin, ho everyone knew had prepared her whole life for this moment and was the epitome in your family as the perfect candidate, you were a wildcard - a free-spirit who revelled in the spontaneity of life and never took a lesson on royal etiquette.

The odds of you being selected was very low, and the idea of being rejected with all eyes watching felt like a sweet revenge for the villagers.

But you didn’t attend the betrothal. After a heated argument with your father about being a hopeless case and nothing like your cousin, you left that night with your friends.

You never knew what happened.

And during a time like this, after your past history of foregoing the betrothals, being an overthinker did not help your situation. Gazing outside from your window, you were lost deep in thought, your mind preoccupied and racing back and forth.

After registering Prince’s San actions, with a flustered expression - your mind boggled by his radiant smile and your racing heart, you arose from your spot, bowed to the King signalling your respect and then scampered out of the courtyard. Racing hurriedly through the village’s path, you dashed straight into your family’s home and into your room, locking the door.

The news had rapidly spread like a wildfire and reached the ears of your father who was not pleased.

“You have to marry him Y/N.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Father, Prince San likes to play games. I’m not going to marry him.”

Your Father frustratingly massages his temples as he responds, “It’s just like before isn’t it? You’re going to only think about yourself and not about your family’s reputation.”

“Father,” you stress irritatedly, “The villagers already disliked us after the royal treasurer disclosed that the royal treasury will fund your school while their calls for help were ignored. They’ve been waiting for us to mess up one way or another. It doesn’t matter if I marry Prince San, they’ll find some way to twist it and make us look bad.”

“It does matter Y/N, let them know that the monarchy is on our side! That the King stands with us!”

“Are you not listening, Father? No one cares about a dysfunctional and corrupted monarchy, the only reason they don’t leave is because no Kingdom will give them an easy time for relocating in their jurisdiction.”

“Well maybe if you had attended the betrothal, we could’ve silenced them once and for all. But no, you only think about yourself. You’re not like your cousin.”

Tiredly you rub your forehead and place your face in your palms, trying to maintain your composure in front of your Father. Frustration and irritation are coiling inside you, ready to erupt like a volcano.

“Enough!” your Mother yells, “Y/N go to your room and try to relax and you, go make yourself useful for me and buy some groceries. Don’t come back until you get everything on that list!”

After the confrontation you stayed in your room, and for the last few hours, you continuously paced back and forth like a maniac, racking your brain to make sense of what occurred. The veil was still in your possession and sprawled across your bed, seemingly mocking you. You couldn’t even spare a glance, lest you started panicking again.

Any attempts at sleeping off the uneasiness failed as the moment you began to doze off, your brain decided to resurface the events and you jolted awake in anxiousness and worry. Now, you stared at the village intently, planning your next course of action. You concluded to not venture out of your room until it was time to leave with the group. If it was up to you, you all would have been on your way by tomorrow morning.

Unfortunately, you all had decided to stay for at least a week - therefore, you wouldn’t be leaving your room until next Wednesday.

Hoshi arrived later in the evening to check in and update you on the recent gossip.

“Yeah you’re the talk of the town.” he expressed nonchalantly while munching on some warm buttered bread courtesy your Mother.

“That makes me feel so much better Hoshi, thank you.” you responded sarcastically.

He narrowed his eyes at you before flinging the veil at you in retaliation. You caught it, and proceeded to batter him with it.

“Hey!” he cried, “You’ll make me drop my bread! Stooooop!”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” you asked out of breath, “Not your best friend being emotionally distressed right now!?”

After blocking your blows and stuffing the bread into his mouth, he captured you in a hug and began to pet your hair as an attempt to calm you down. You thrashed around a bit to continue your mayhem but gave up knowing that Hoshi is stronger than you.

“Relax,” he assured, continuing to stroke the middle of your head, “It’s only because all the girls are jealous that you’re the one who managed to single handedly and easily catch the eyes of the Prince. And their parents are even more envious, which is typical of them.”

“Yes but…”

“Remember when we first left to pursue the group? The Aunty who runs the fruit stall had so much to say about us! Now look, she was telling my mom the other day how she knew we were going to be successful and that she always had faith in us. A huge hypocrite! She’s lucky I’m afraid of my mother otherwise I’d tell her about her annoying kids and how rotten she is just like the fruit she tries to sell.”

Chuckling at Hoshi’s spiel, you remove yourself calmly from his embrace and turn to him.

“And your point is?”

“People will talk no matter what. They have nothing better to do and their opinion of you isn’t true. While I can understand their distress of being ignored by the King, for them to put the brunt of it on you is unfair and uncalled for. Just lay low until we leave.”

“Well that’s the plan but I wish it was that easy,” you dejectedly replied, “My father is disappointed again. I’m a huge disappointment to him again just like last time. He cares more about the monarchy than me.”

Hoshi squints his eyes and grabs you in another hug.

“Ack!”

“As much as I respect your Father,” he begins, “I don’t like the way he talks to you. But just know that you don’t have to be like your cousin, she’s on her own path and so are you. Hopefully your Father sees that one day and if not, we can ask our moms to rally up their groups and chase him and my Father throughout the village. I don’t know why they are so obsessed with the King.”

He frees you from his hold and holds your shoulders and smiles.

“It’s not like anything else will happen.”

“Y/N! Y/N!” your sister screams frantically, “The King is on his way here!”

You shoot up from your position, your eyes filling with fear as the anxiousness and nervousness returning and descending like a huge crashing wave. Sadly, Hoshi didn’t make you feel better.

“Hm, I stand corrected,” he commented.

Meanwhile, your Father puffs his chest proudly as he waits outside the gate. When the Royal Messenger appeared and announced the King’s arrival, your Father left all the groceries he was supposed to return with and rushed back. As the carriage pulls to a stop in front of him, he is already bowing as the King descends and saunters ahead while the villagers who are present whisper amongst themselves.

The King sits in a plush and cushioned satin chair that is your Father’s favourite and scrutinises the living room while your Father stoops in front of him.

“It’s been a while Y/L/N,” the King articulate curtly, “The last time we convened was at the betrothal.”

“It’s been long overdue to have you at my home, Your Majesty,” your Father responds, “It’s an absolute pleasure to have you grace us with your presence.”

Hoshi judges your Father beside you while snacking on another slice of buttered bread. Behind the wall that separates the living room and the kitchen, a small group consisting of you, Hoshi, your older siblings and your mother are huddled together trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.

The King settles himself more comfortably into the chair before continuing, “Your daughter neither attending nor participating in the betrothal is very surprising. Adding on to the fact that she’s a part of the most famous dance group throughout the lands yet, they never performed here until today. Most of them are from this village too, no?”

Unsure and shyly your Father explains, “What can I say your Majesty? Y/N is a free-spirit, she doesn’t listen to me and likes to do her own thing. I wanted her to attend the betrothal but she chose to pursue dance instead. And I told her that they should have their first performance here! But kids think they know better than their elders.”

Your mother shakes her head in disapproval and you peer judgingly as you hear your Father’s remarks.

“Liar.” you mutter.

“She’s not like her cousin.”

You roll your eyes at your Father but you can’t ignore the pang of hurt that flashes through you. If there’s one thing currently whirring in your mind, albeit it might sound selfish, it was that you shouldn’t have returned home. You should’ve stayed where you were.

“Well,” the King begins, “I am here because my son has requested my permission to marry your daughter.”

“Excuse me!?” you exclaim

Your family gasps and the Royal Messenger sideyes the kitchen, but it goes unnoticed by the King. Your mind spins feverishly and adrenaline shoots through your body upon this revelation. In a hushed tone, Hoshi shushes you and places a hand over your mouth to stop you from blowing your cover.

While all of you are flabbergasted and in shock, your Father beams excitedly and deeply bows to the King.

“Yes your Majesty! Of course we accept your proposal for Y/N to Prince San. What happened earlier spread very quickly across the village. And as her Father I was worried for her reputation. But now knowing this—“

“Not Prince San.” The King proclaims.

Your father stammers in confusion, unsure how to respond. Meanwhile, your heart rate accelerates and you turn to your Mother with worried eyes. She’s mirroring the same expression back to you.

“Then…to who?”

“As per his request to me,” the King announces, “Y/N will marry my son, Prince Seonghwa, who is second in line for the throne.”

When it was revealed that you would not be in attendance, the villagers began to gossip that you bowed out early because you knew you were never going to be selected.

“I’m not surprised,” The Fruit Lady chides, “At least she has the common sense to know she’s not fit to become a wife to a prince. Then again, she and that rag-tag group wants to become dancers, so she probably used up all the common sense she had.”

The other villagers laugh and join in ridiculing you before making guesses about who might be selected. Once it wasn’t you, they didn’t care who it might be. But to their utter shock and surprise, after Prince Chan’s proposal to your cousin, Prince Seonghwa steps forward and declares unapologetically.

“I withdraw myself from this bethroment. I will not be proposing to anyone tonight.”

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Taglist: @chngbnwf

#ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #poly!ateez #ateez fluff #ateez series #ateez fanfic

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bluebellhairpin · 17 days ago

Text

Thorin Oakenshield X Fem!Reader

Summary; Kili gets more worried about Thorin's Dragon-sickness, but meeting you proves to be part of the cure.

Warnings; Thorin's dragon-sickness. Blood mention. Reader is female-body-coded, uses she/her pronouns, and is Human.

Listening to; 'Sons of Durin' by Howard Shore

Part 15 || Part 17

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

The meeting with Bard hadn’t gone well.

If someone were to ask him, Kili would’ve said he’d seen people take news of someone they loved dying better than how Thorin took being asked to keep his promise. A less proper person would’ve said it was a (literal) royal shit show. But with Fili gone, and it sunk in that now Kili was Thorin’s heir. It had settled like a looming weight over the young Dwarf’s shoulders.

Being Crown Heir was never meant to be his lot in life.

Kili was the younger brother. The care-free reckless spare Prince who could act upon his impulses and passions whenever he so desired to do without needing to take a step back and consider the consequences first. That was the only thing he’d known to be his whole life. Between losing his brother and having to say goodbye to Tauriel, his heart was never supposed to feel so heavy.

Now, thanks to the lack of tact from his Uncle, they were preparing for war. Armour was fitted, and weapons sharpened. Tomorrow they will fight. He was missing Fili more than ever, and hoping to all hopes that he would get the chance to lay his eyes on Tauriel’s face one more time.

Kili could feel how far away his head and heart were, he could tell that tomorrow, if he had to raise a sword, he would not do so with the same strength and enthusiasm as he once had. He might’ve been confident if his brother were here, but now he doubted if he’d survive. He’d lost his half, and with it he’d lost half his own will to fight. The desire to fight for a place at Thorin’s side somehow felt less worthy than if he were fighting for Fili’s place there - probably because the cost already felt far too high.

Somehow his thoughts drifted to you. By now you’d be far away, and if you’d given up searching the lake, you would not be returning. They couldn’t count on your help - Kili knew Thorin made sure to drive you away enough for you to never want to come back again. But he felt grateful that you wouldn’t be here for whatever tomorrow held.

To Kili you were as good as family, and knowing both you and his mother were far away did give him comfort. The same comfort that knowing Taruiel wasn’t here brought. All the women closest and dearest to him were far away, and would not see the bloodshed that would appear tomorrow - even if he would see it, he would bear it knowing it saved someone else from having to. Their combined distance was a protection.

Early the next day, standing atop the mountains’ entrance at daybreak, the Dwarves all waited, staring down an army of Elves. The sun peeked over the Lake beyond, and a hundred thousand Elven soldiers stood lined in ranks before the doors of the Mountain.

Kili stood by Thorin’s side, a sense of unease settling in his belly at the thought of what was to come. With his kin by his side, he pushed it away, exchanging it for a much braver face - one belonging to a prince, to a warrior. A king-to-be.

The thought that, today, something awful was going to befall someone close to him was pushed to the very back of his mind. He convinced himself, for a while, that it wasn’t anything to worry about. That it wasn’t going to happen. What Kili didn’t know was how right that thought was, and how wrong he was to ignore it.

Thorin knew that sending for his cousin was the right thing to do. Dain would come. He would help, and he would fight. If needed, he would die too, and Thorin could keep the mountain’s treasure safe - the sacrifice would be all for his people’s sake, of course. Until now, Thorin was right.

There was Dain, and his army, refusing to stand down or surrender. With the attention taken from the mountain to the Dwarves, Thorin smiled. This is exactly what he wanted. Right?

In an instant, the battle broke out. Mirkwood arrows were raised, fired, and they whistled through the skies only to be cut short by Dain’s bolt cutters. Arrows were notched, realised, and cut down yet again. Thorin could only laugh at the futility of the Elves trying from a distance when it was so clear their only choice was to test their hand at close combat. Even then, the brutality of his mountain kin would outmatch any grace the opposers had on a battlefield, and Thorin felt confident that this battle was theirs to win. That it was already won.

But the earth grumbled and groaned, it shook even the hastily-built wall Thorin stood on. That shake was not the doing on Dwarf, Elve, or Man. The sound came from the hills opposing, and it drew Thorin’s eyes away from his fighting kin, and for one sickening moment he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Were-worms burst from the rock - he saw one, then two, five total - crushing rock and screeching into the fresh morning air.

Atop a nearby hilltop, a horn blew, and Thorin could see flags move to signal an attack. Orcs. Azog was here. They were all here. Everyone wanted his home - his gold - and all Thorin knew was that it wasn’t theirs to take. They weren’t taking it from him. He stood, stuck between frozen and fidgeting, as Dain led his soldiers into battle formation against the incoming Orc army. His jaw clenched.

He didn’t watch as his mountain kin charged to fight with war cries rising into the sky. He turned, told his company to stand down, and left.

Thorin’s feet took him to the grand hall. The floor was smooth and glowing from the gold which had solidified in the past few days. His face shone up at him as he looked down, and he wondered for a moment who it was looking back at him.

There were voices swirling all around, echoing off the most distant walls and halls, telling him what he did wrong and what he said in bad taste.

“This is not like you.”

“I’m not my grandfather.”

“Madness is the only word I can think of for it.”

“I will not part with a single coin.”

He wondered what kind of person would run to his gold and hide among it instead of fight for it. Apparently he was that kind of person. The revelation made him feel ill. Like the room was spinning. Maybe the room was spinning, he didn’t know what was going on outside, something could be happening to shake the mountain so violently.

He fell to his knees, clawing at the ground as it began to sink away in waves. This was madness, the room falling away and gold melting without heat - it was too much, and he was going to get swallowed whole.

Then a paw, hand - scaled and painful - latched onto his wrist. It snapped him from one nightmare to another. From sinking to being attacked. His eyes followed the arm and he was met with a familiar face.

Thorin couldn’t look away. It was you. Your clothes and a fur cloak on your back were torn, and gold and jewels were draped all over your neck and shoulders and wrists like chains. Your skin was dry and flaky, scorned with scales of red and black. From your mouth protruded pointed teeth, and the tips of your fingers had become home to jagged claws - both dripped red, blood staining your lips and fingers like the stickiest honey.

On your head sat a crown. It looked as if it had been reforged, melted with a heat so bad and violent that it had dripped and fused onto your skin and hair. The crown and cloak were both ones he’d seen before, one he had once almost offered you but you refused before he had the chance. Was this what would’ve become of you if you’d accepted? Has he turned into a monster such as this?

He met your eyes and it made his blood run cold like his heart had stopped beating. They were so wild, untamed, like a beast. Never in his left had he seen your eyes hold such ferocious and feral anger. Not even when you swore to leave him did you eyes hold such a lack of humanity or care.

He knew it wasn’t you. You’d never look at anyone like that, especially not him, not even in your human anger. He realized then that this wasn’t him either. This cruel king he made himself to be. That wasn’t him, because that king wasn’t the Thorin that made himself a shield of oak wood. This king was one who fled and hid - and that wasn’t him at all.

His crown skid across the floor, and Thorin starred as it came to a stop. Then his movements became a flurry. He grasped at the rings on his fingers, tearing them off one handful at a time. The heavy cloak on his shoulders fell to the floor, the armour followed until he was left in what could’ve passed as travel clothes.

His reflection looked different now. Less like the cruel king, more like Thorin Oakenshield.

Kili was getting restless. He could see the fight outside, he could tell it was only getting worse - he knew he could fight yet where was he? Stuck hiding inside the mountain, waiting for his uncle’s call. His restlessness was turning into anger, one he felt was justified, since he believed Fili would’ve felt too.

His fist clenched and unclenched around his sword, debating whether to go after Thorin or not. Approaching footsteps had him turning on his heel. He barely waited until Thorin came close before standing toe-to-toe with him.

“Uncle I will not stand for this.” Kili started, speaking before Thorin, and not stopping to let a word in, “I will not hide here while our battle is fought for us! Our brothers are outside fighting and dying for our home while we do nothing. It’s not right! I want to fight.”

Thorin reached out, resting his palms on Kili’s shoulders, and smiled.

“You will fight. It’s in your blood and mine. We are sons of Durin, and Durin's Folk do not run from a fight.”

“Really?” Kili asked.

“Really.” One of Thorin’s hands cupped the back of Kili’s head, and he pressed their foreheads together. Kili’s shoulders slumped with relief. He didn’t know what had happened to Thorin when he ran off, but he’d come back changed. He’d come back as the uncle Kili grew up with. If he weren’t having to focus on fighting, he might’ve cried with joy.

Kili watched Thorin turn away, and he thought he hadn’t looked quite so much like a king as he did now. Not since back in Laketown, at least.

“It’s not right of me to ask this of you, not after the way I’ve treated you all,” Thorin started, speaking in earnest to all who remained around him, “But our kin fight out there. I’m going to fight with them until the battle is over. I’m not asking you to join me, but if you choose to fight you will be fighting alongside your king.”

Kili watched as a wave of determination washed over his friends. He saw how they wanted the same thing he did. How they stood. He could see how glad they were to have the old Thorin return, and how willing they were to fight with him - something sorely lacking just moments before. Suddenly, even if the day ended in death, it felt like they had won one victory already.

The battle in the mind had been fought and won, now they just needed to do it in body too.

A horn bellowed. The Dwarves lining the moat before the mountain’s entrance turned to face it, and their foes paused in their stride. Then a bell rang, crashing through the built-up barrier blocking the mountain's entrance.

The stones tumbled away, and out strode Thorin.

He was filled with a new sense of life. He felt he remembered what was most important. People not possessions. His thoughts went straight to you. To most he walked like a confident king. But really he walked as someone who wasn’t going to die fighting today. He didn’t know where you were, and he wasn’t going to die while an argument was your last conversation.

Dain and his soldiers parted so Thorin could front the Dwarven forces, and he couldn’t lie and say the sight of the Orc army wasn’t a fearsome one. If he weren’t so battle worn, he would be worried, but he’d fought Orcs before. He’d won before too, this would be no different.

Thorin’s mouth opened, prepared to cry out the advance, but it was overshadowed by a bone-chilling roar sounding across the skies.

His eyes flew beyond the Orc army, past the town of Dale and toward the mountains the Were-worms once breached. There on the horizon was a sight he thought long gone, and one he never wished to see again in his whole life.

A Dragon.

The people around him bristled with fear, even the Orcs seemed to be unsettled and unsure of what to do - after all, everyone stayed away from a Dragon, even Orcs. In truth, Thorin didn’t know what to do. He did before, but not now. The panic that rose in the soldiers around him, even with him there, wasn’t one to be ignored.

“That thing’s supposed to be dead!” Bofur said, “What’re we supposed to do now?”

“Look,” Kili came to Thorin’s side, pointing, “Look closer!”

Thorin couldn’t say his pair of eyes were the best working set in the word, but he did spare a moment to look closer at the Dragon which had caught them all off-guard. The first thing he noticed was that it moved differently. Its wings spread, but didn’t fly. Neck and head lowered, back raised, tail flicking back and forth. It moved more like a cat than a dragon.

“There’s someone on it!” Dwailn called. The Dragon climbed down the hill, pushing rock and soil over the Were-worm holes, covering them as it went. It advanced, pushing the afraid Orcs toward the Dwarves.

“Irak’amad.” Thorin turned to Kili, unbelieving of what he was implying. You? Riding the Dragon? “I can’t believe it, she’s controlling it!” Kili laughed.

Thorin’s head turned back to the Dragon, and indeed, even from this distance, he could see a clear human shape on the creature’s back. Something in him told him to believe it, that it was really you. You said you’d never return, but there you were. He could’ve decided to ask himself why, but he was far too grateful to have a real chance to see you again.

The Dragon’s mouth opened, then closed, and opened again. Fire was expected, by everyone, but words came instead.

“Khayamu,” The Dragon rasped. Clear Khuzdul spoke from its lips in a voice which sounded a bit too much like yours to be coincidence. It was a clear indication to all who the Dragon was there to fight for, and that it intended to help win. “For the King!”

Translations; Irak’amad = Aunt Khayamu = To Victory

#thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #thorin x fem!reader #the girl who knew the end

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tokiro07 · 2 months ago

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Toki Reads Shonen Jump 2024, Issue #52

HxH: Morena's card game begins, and she exposits that she was conceived in a state-sanctioned non-consensual orgy; Borksen learns that thanks to Nen restrictions, she actually does have actually does have an escape route. The implications of Morena's backstory are certainly staggering, but also lost on me

Yozakura: Taiyo has an "I know you're in there" fight with himself, ending with him expelling Asa by shooting himself in the heart. Taiyo's willingness to damage his own body to make it uninhabitable to Asa doesn't seem ideal, but definitely preferable to being possessed

Undead Unluck: Soul tries to force Andy and Victor's souls back together, but Rip cuts them apart permanently with Unrepair. This is Rip's capstone, where he finally uses Unrepair for someone else's happiness instead of ruining his own with it

Roboco: Roboco writes more shameless ripoff manga, but finally learns that her own original material is a lot better. I have no faith that this lesson will stick

Sakamoto: Atari's luck has literally run out; she reveals to Tenkyu that his friendship w/ Uzuki is irreparable; Shin resolves to kill Tenkyu, even if it means severing ties with Sakamoto. Both Tenkyu and Shin are losing their friends because they're killing in their name against their wishes; Atari's an idiot for using such an obscene amount of luck last chapter just to fire ONE bullet

EluSam: Tokiyuki and realKojiro gush over Kojiro as he fights Nagao; the scene cuts away to Mima getting into architecture and interior design. This seems to have an affect on enemy morale, but I feel like it's not worth ignoring what seems to be Kojiro's most important fight

Witch Watch: The flashback gang discusses the legacy of Familiars and their prejudice towards humanity; Kuon warms up to the team, and Taiga raises more death flags. The idea of magic fading away as a sign of peaceful times is a topic I've been thinking about a lot lately because I've been revisiting Medaka Box; this may inform a future essay

Blue Box: Taiki endears himself to Chinatsu's dad with his earnest, if a bit overbearing, nature. I'm glad we're not drawing out the tension too much, it makes the dad more relatable

Akane: Despite Miroku's refusal to let them perform, Shiguma and Issho learn enough rakugo for Kiroku to give them a slot; Miroku offers to grant Kiroku his name and rank if he will use it to expel the pair. This is clearly the event that led to the founding of the Arakawa School, but even with a foregone conclusion, it's a nailbiter

Kill Blue: Juzo and Shin use assassin techniques to advertise the bakery; Yoichiro wagers his staff's bonuses to whichever club can beat their challenges. Clearly he's plotting something, but I can't quite see yet how this furthers his plans

Nue: Rido spontaneously achieves his Bankai Spirit Armor and promptly passes out. It looks cool, but I'm already so unclear on this power system's rules that such an upgrade only serves to confuse me further

Kagurabachi: In a side story, we revisit everyone's favorite guy, Sojo, trying desperately to enjoy a bath despite his routine being ruined at every turn. Looking back, I'm sad that Sojo died; I hope he continues to haunt the narrative

Chojo: Keinain's new assistant, Makami, finds everything about the Chinjuku station to be lewd; this is not because she's a prude, but an extremely repressed pervert. Would

Astro Royale: Himuro reveals he became a cop to stop the Yotsurugi family from interfering with his dad's business, but only found out later that they were supporting him through hard times; the damage he caused this business relationship resulted in his father's suicide; he eats the Daybreak Ore and becomes a mutated mass. Himuro's motivations now reflect Kinpa's, but just like he hurt his dad by targeting the Yotsurugi's, his rage is misdirected and self-destructive

Kiyoshi: Asuta's time runs out and he gets away, cementing the sacrifices made to summon him; as he leaves, he calls Kiyoshi his soulmate in a perverse twist on Kiyoshi's own desire for friendship. Axe-deniers when the lead fails and lets 100 innocent people die - 🎉🍾🥳🎊🥂; throw the yaoi girlies in there too since there's about to be a huge boost in sales

Hima-Ten: Tenichi takes up the rear on the class hike; Himari fakes an injury to keep him company. Very cute, but how the hell does this moron not realize she's in love???

Ichi: Just before the contest begins, Ichi sees a mysterious figure; the Kindake Magik vows to kill everyone who doesn't worship his mushrooms, then escapes into his mushroom forest. So much for not being a human-hater; Togeice's poor sense of direction will certainly make this challenge much harder on her

Shinobi: Yodaka sabotages Hachikuma's strings and turns them against him. Though heavy-handed, Yodaka straightening and braiding Hachikuma's discarded, tangled strings as a symbol of the value of putting effort into maintaining relationships is sweet

Hakutaku: The mechanics of the AR game are explained, but Hikuma sleeps through people actually enjoying it. Maybe it's cus I don't like mobile games, but I do not see the appeal of this game, which is probably the most damning indictment of a game design manga

Syd Craft: Elio is revealed to be Levie Olyn, Syd's favorite romance author, who became his assistant after he cleared her name in a case; she writes her books to vent her DEFINITELY NOT ROMANTIC feelings for Syd. That's a great dynamic, I love girls who pine, I'm super endeared to this idiot

My top 3 manga for the week are:

Undead Unluck, unsurprisingly, for its fantastic color page, multiple great spreads, and at least two of what will undoubtedly become the most iconic moments in the entire series; congrats on netting the final cover of the year!

Syd Craft for continuing to expand upon its concept in a way that really appeals to me; let it be known I never said Tsutsui was a bad author, I just said he was a coward

Kiyoshi for dodging the axe, establishing an interesting dynamic between Kiyoshi and Asuta, and the bravery to leave it on such a bleak cliffhanger

Runners up include Astro Royale and Shinobi Undercover, both for giving me some interesting symbolism to chew on, as well as Hima-Ten and Chojo for women in denial that fall short of Elio

Edit: I want to correct something I said last week - it does not seem like Bug Ego is joining Weekly Jump after all, I think someone I follow on twitter either got a bad tip or I misunderstood what they said. Bug Ego was added to the Shonen Jump app, not Shonen Jump itself. Apologies for any confusion!

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vacantgodling · 8 months ago

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the beginning of the first age where everything goes to absolute shit <3<3

there's gonna be 2 more parts in explaining the first age eventually and even more eventually i will actually write some goddamn prose. but these powerpoints are too much fun LMAO.

transcription under the cut:

SLIDE 1: The First Age -> The Age of Valor part i -> another powerpoint by yours truly @/vacantgodling

SLIDE 2: irandium 175: The Citadel of Argos is Finally Completed *irandium = the terranean ‘year’ which lasts 300 earth days instead of months, there are seasons, which each last 75 days.

At the behest of the people and through the guidance of MUINENS, Inen the OOM, chooses the first king and queen of Argos.

From the fields, he chooses a man named Gian, who will become known as Gian of Argos, and from the stone-workers, he chooses a woman named Constanteira, who will become known as Constanteira the Good.

Both were born in Irandium 145, setting the precedent that every ruler from henceforth should be chosen at the age of 30 years old.

At that time, it was learned that Terraneans tended to expire (if they were not killed) by the age of 150. However, at this point in Argos’s construction, nearly 2/3 of the population had fallen prey to the monsters and beasts that roamed the land.

SLIDE 3: The First Age Royal Lineage (for ease of reference)

Gian of Argos (145-xx) married Constanteira the Good (145-xx) and had 1 child: Blythe (238-xx)

Blythe married Chanson Aegis (237-xx) and they had Una (301-xx)

Una was not chosen to be the next king by the OOM and instead a farmboy named Ira Belledrumm (300-xx) was chosen. He then married into the royal family. They had a child named Devorah (332-xx)

Devorah married a man named Ghalen Daybreak and they had a daughter named Clandestine Daybreak (363-xx)

Clandestine married a man named Oug (358-xx) and they had two children Yazan Dia (408-477) and Nieko of Argos (414-477)

Yazan was the next chosen king and he married a woman named Tara (410-477). They had 5 children together: Loredana (446-477), Nunzia (448-477), Orietta (452-477), Pinella (454-489) and their only son, Mitica the Nomad (459-607).

Nieko married a woman named Raine and they had twin daughters: Twilight (449-?) and Whisper of the Fire (449-493)

SLIDE 4: The Sixth King of Argos: Yazan Dia

Yazan Dia—originally known as Yazan Daybelle, became fascinated with the goddess IISIDIA in his youth; inspired by a dream he had where he saw the goddess’s large, dark hands, shifting the stars above him in the universe.

In that same dream he saw the hands beckon him to approach, and as he did, he noticed that the hands were gray and scarred, with many rings adorning its fingers. It waved before him a mist and a vast chasm in the shape of a door opened before him.

It was then that Yazan changed his name to Yazan Dia (to honor the goddess) for he believed the vision was telling him that should he follow her guidance and seek understanding of her ways—of CANTILLO—that the kingdom of Argos would prosper.

Oh, how misled he was.

SLIDE 5: The Opening of The Rift The Fall of Argos was only just the beginning of how the fate of The Aegeans would unfold...

With the encouragement of his wife, Queen Tara Dia, King Yazan continued to follow the clues that were left behind in his dreams, even venturing far out into the wilderness to the The Entrance of MIZDARR’s GROVE—the place where the origin of chaos, The Thicket was rumored to lie.

After years of preparation and research—in secrecy from the rest of the kingdom—King Yazan and Queen Tara descended to the darkest depths of the castle; down in the very bowels of the earth where guards were sure they heard and saw things that perhaps they shouldn’t.

And in these dungeons, King Yazan made a Grave mistake.

SLIDE 6: He was Betrayed.

And all of Argos fell prey to the Beasts and Monsters hidden deep within Chaos.

SLIDE 7: 477 is when everything came to an abrupt halt.

The fall of Argos sends the entire Terranean population into chaos. King Yazan & Queen Tara were dead. The king’s brother, Nieko of Argos and his wife, Raine Idanly, were dead. 3 of King Yazan’s eldest daughters were dead. And much of the population perished in their attempt to flee from the fallen city.

Those who survived were able to make it to the Fortress of Eros—a barely finished stronghold that was the base of all operations outside of Argos when it came to exploring the world around them, and protecting the farmers and foragers who worked the soil outside of Argos’s gates.

It wasn’t large enough to hold the entire population that was able to escape. Everyone knew they couldn’t stay here—it wouldn’t be long until even Eros was overrun.

With no king, and no leader, all the people could do was turn to the OOM (Oracle Of Muinens) to choose their next king.

SLIDE 8: The Day of Fissures — Summer 478 The Exile of the Nomads & The birth of The Aegeans

After days of prayer, the OOM chooses the next king of Argos: 18-year old Mitica Dia, the youngest child of the late King Yazan to succeed his father. Having a king this young is untoward. It begins to cause a stirring in the populous remaining, especially when after conferring with the OOM it was determined that their goddess MUINENS wanted them to defect into the wilds for safety.

Whisper Idanly, second child of Nieko of Argos senses her opportunity. It was no secret that the brothers (Yazan and Nieko) did not get along, with Nieko himself harboring a deep seated hatred of his elder brother—a value he was especially successful in instilling in his younger daughter. She saw her opportunity to turn the tides and gain power among the wayward Terraneans.

She accused the young Mitica of cowardice. That no true king would abandon his rightful throne in their homeland just because a dire evil overthrew it. That he would rally his armies and strike back against this threat. But Mitica argued that with the number of injured and children, that there would be only carnage and desolation for such a rash act against their goddess.

SLIDE 9: Separated by the fire that Whisper threw to cut those who defied her off from Eros. Forever.

The Nomads The group that decided to stick by the young King Mitica the Nomad and journey into the unknown on behest of the goddess MUINENS.

The Aegeans The group that decided to defect with Whisper Idanly, now known as Whisper of the Fire to fight and try and reclaim their homeland.

SLIDE 10: The Goddess YLENE was born out of the ashes of Whisper’s damning fire, and along with her the magic vis.

The fate of the Terraneans was now split. And things will get much worse before they get better.

#s: tcol #MORE POWERPOINTS #MORE #worldbuilding

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honora-antares · 8 months ago

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Umm Pre-Calamity Ganon AU where Princess Zelda and her champions are lost somewhere in the Faron woods where they come across a "hostile" tribe group. Leader of said group asks who their leader is and Revali was about to declare himself when Urbosa cuts him of and introduces Zelda. Then said Leader of "hostile" tribe group challenges her to battle(?) because that's how its done when outsiders enter their territory. All champions rally to protect her.

A Hylian Knight with his loyal Master Sword.

A Zora Princess with her graceful Lightscale Trident.

A Goron Warrior with his mighty Boulder Breaker

A Rito Master with his Great Eagle Bow and bomb arrows

A Gerudo Chieftess, wielding both Daybreaker and Scimitar of the Seven

But the Leader has powers, powers to control lighting. Just like Urbosa, but the Leader is younger and less experienced than the great Gerudo Chieftess. The Leader is not able to manipulate Urbosa's queer green lightning and is forced to retreat with scalding burns to their arm, up their neck and down their torso. With a smirk Urbosa is proud to be able to protect her Princess yet again...

Reasons as to why the Princess of Hyrule and her 5 champions where lost in the Faron Woods you may ask? Well, they were in search of an old ally, an ally they might hope to persuade to fight in the upcoming war with Evil. Princess Zelda is worried the people they encountered were members of said ally.

She was correct.

Escorts where sent to bring them to their ruler days after, fortunately this time they announced themselves as friendly, unlike the previous group. The Deku Tribe. They were dressen in bark-like tunics. With decorative leaves and flowers. Vines entwined with beads and miscellaneous on exposed arms and legs and chests. The Princess and her 5 Champions were welcomed with food and drink and music of all kinds: Strings, Wood Wings, Brass. It was lively until the percussion increased followed by the bellows of the brass that the Royals made their entrance.

The Deku King and Queen did not look like the rest of the tribe. Nor the following Scrubs behind them. No, because where the tribe members all resembled like Princess Zelda herself and her human Champions, the Royal Deku Family where like walking fauna. Hair and clothes in form of leaves and twigs. Skin dark and rough as bark.

A tribe member who escorted the Princess noticed her interest and explained, "Many, many years ago, we all used to look like our Royal Highnesses. Now only the Royal family is able to keep our ancestral image alive."

A new piece of music starts to play as the Deku King passes his Tribe. *insert Deku Palace song here* A humanness Deku kneels before him and removes his intricate leafed crown. At its removal, reveals a grown Human man, tall and strong. As the same is done to the Deku Queen, a human woman rises, equally dark and fierce as her partner.

"My Dearest Scrubs," her voice starts, smooth and sonorous, over the booming of the continuing percussion. "We welcome Hyrule's Princess, future Queen of her Lands." The Deku Queen turns to face said Princess, "Allow my children the Honor in welcoming you in our most venerable of ways, The Deku Dance."

And what a dance it was. Princess Zelda has never seen, heard, nor read of such a dance before.

The Royal children's movements causing their leaves and flower petals dresses to flow in the wind. Soft rattles could be heard coming from them. And in simultaneous fluid motions they all came to a halt. Four stood on one side of the grassy field that made up their dance floor while the other four sat on stepstones. Music still ever going as eight Human Tribe Members closed their distance to the Royal children. Princes, Zelda murmured to herself as she looked towards the Royal Scrubs who were standing. Princesses, to the ones sitting on stepstones. At the chime of threes, each Royal child was uncrowned. Reveling not children, but fully matured men and women. At least for the first five. Its when the chimes signaled the sixth child, a Princess, that cold dread manifested inside Princess Zelda. For as the Deku Princess was uncrowned, revealing an olive toned young woman, beads and vines and ropes all over her body. Overly large holes pierced her ears as acorn hats weaved in thistles dangled through them. Though that's not what captured Princess Zelda's attention. No, her attention moved to the Deku Princess's arm. That although covered and wrapped in vines, could not hide the fern-like patters of lighting scars. Nor could her bangled neck be concealed to the very top where the scars have ended. Had her belly and back been exposed too, Princess Zelda is sure that they would be covered in the same patterns.

'Her arm is still shaking.' Signs Link as he touches Princess Zelda's shoulder to get her attention. 'It doesn't look like the Princess has had proper healing.'

"She must be in a lot of pain." Adds in Mipha, Princess of the Zora. "I wonder if. . . she'll let me heal her. . ." She faltered as she took a glance at the Deku Princess's neck.

"Hell of a fighter, she is, if her hand is the only thing that's shaking." Daruk's voice interjects always careful to keep it in a low whisper, his chains rattling as he crosses his arms. "How did you even noticed that, Little Guy? I can barely see it move."

"Hmph, I think she's an idiot. As a warrior, someone who clearly uses a weapon for combat, she should know the importance of maintaining good physical health." Huffed the Rito Champion. Revali prides himself in keeping his feather nice, primed and preened at all times. "As for a Princess, well. . ." He turns his beak upwards to the remaining Champion who has yet to speak. "You're fucked."

Urbosa has never once agreed with the overbearing Rito.

Until now.

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iameliseposts · 2 years ago

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Little Midnight Rendezvous Lilia x MC

This fic is dedicated to @la-lolita ! Happy birthday hun!! I decided to make a cute banner for you and write a forbidden love AU fic for Lilia since you’d literally lick his ashes-

You’ve always been so supportive of my writing, this was the least I could do for you! You’re one of my closest friends on Tumblr and I hope you have an amazing day! I hope you enjoy bestie!! 💖💖

“We shouldn’t do this!” You whisper against the cold night as the short fae whisks you into the dark night. Hand in hand, your assailant ran in front of you, taking you alongside him further and further away from your home. Although, you couldn’t be far from home when he’s near. The icy air was gliding down your skin, making you chilled to the bone.

Lilia looks back, staring deeply within you, “Oh? Have you not wanted this?” You didn’t reply, how could you reply when he was absolutely right? You bit your bottom lip, as though that would silence your breath and keep you both hidden.

Even when looking at you, he still moves gracefully and quickly. Compared to the elegance that was your fae, you must look spent. Every night, Lilia appears at your window and steals you away. Once the shimmering lights of daybreak appear, he returns you to your room, like the gentleman he is. Parted at dawn, but rejoined at dusk.

You didn’t have a choice, but to have your little midnight rendezvouses. You weren’t allowed to meet under the blurring sun with others’ glaring eyes. It wasn’t allowed, you see. More than not socially exceptional. Lilia was a fae, a well known fae. One loyally dedicated to the royal family. Simply put, he was a man of high power.

High power comes with high affluency. High affluence brings more respect. A fae as respected as Lilia must be seen in a good light by the public. A romance between a fae and a human was deeply frowned upon. You’ve heard stories of lovers being exiled from Briar Valley with nowhere to go. It truly terrifies you of how ruthless Lilia’s country could be, considering how sweet the fae himself was to you.

Yet, every time Lilia shows up at nightfall, you couldn’t resist his charm. This is a dangerous and wild flame of love. It consumes you both and threatens the very life you live. This path you both continue to walk is treacherous at each turn with only one person you could rely on. Each other until the very end. Each morning you repeat, “Don’t come back tonight. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lied. Each morning you told your white lie in a pathetic attempt to prevent harm to Lilia. He didn’t buy it and neither did you if you had to be honest. You wanted him to come each night and the way you avoided meeting eyes when you said your line exposed you. “I shall stop coming when you truly mean that statement.” Lilia replies as he slinks back to his quarters with the revealing light of day. This was a cycle. “Stop coming here! You know what happens if you get caught…” “You still wish to lie straight to me?” “...” Over and over, this conversation occurred.

You both stop running once you came onto a vast flower patch. You’ve been all over since you started seeing Lilia, but nothing beats the beauty of the luminescent beams of the moon shining onto the radiant flowers. These flowers were special. They reflect light which enhances the already alluring petals.

Keeping your hand in his, Lilia pulls you towards him. You crash onto him, nuzzling your face in the corner of his neck. ‘Don’t come back tonight. What a lie.’ Really, it was foolish of you to say. How could you say that after spending all your nights in his warm embrace. Spending all your nights with his lips on yours. Spending all your nights under the moonlight with the love of your soul. What a lie.

“You’re cold.” Lilia states as he wraps his arms around you, like a blanket. You hug your fae, getting all the heat you could from him, “Yeah, it’s kinda cold tonight. It’s getting colder each night. I should have brought a jacket.” Lilia chuckles, deep and mellow, “There is no need for that. You have me after all.” With a snap of his fingers, you felt your skin lose its goosebumps and you felt cozy.

You whisper, tracing invisible patterns with your index finger on his back, “Thank you, my fae.” You felt a hand on the back of your thighs as you got picked up. You were used to Lilia’s antics, so you knew not to be worried. Lilia sat down and placed you onto his lap with your hand on his shoulders.

You couldn’t help, but admire his gorgeous face. You were so entranced by him that you didn’t notice your secret lover was doing the same. It was times like this where your lie was revealed the most. You both didn’t care who saw your display of love. You didn’t love anyone the same way you felt addicted to him. You just loved each other, your fae and Lilia’s human.

Was this forbidden love really so wrong?

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an-abyss-of-stars · 7 months ago

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Fic Updates!!

(Yes, I'm back with these 😂)

Update notes for:

It's Visceral And It's Cruel

Burnt Over And Over Again

He Saw Her At Daybreak

Struck By Fire Drowned By The Sea

*Burnt Over And Over Again* (Modern Au)

So I am currently working on this MAJOR sex scene for the upcoming chapter (chapter 5). BUT I'm actually in the process of reworking it. The initial draft was like 80% finished 🤣💀

I'M SORRY, I was actually so close to being ready to edit and then post. But the further I went with that version, it just wasn't giving what it was meant to give. And to share my thoughts/struggles with this plot point/scene without spoiling the entire scene. If y'all remember, chapter 4 has Rhaena and Aemond bickering like an old married couple in a nightclub in Prague. And as their drama progresses, Aemond finds a way to get Rhaena alone so they can have a private tense conversation. Their sexual tension builds up to a point where they HAVE to do something about it.

Semantics I guess, but there's a ✨mood✨ I'm trying to convey and it's SOO hard to convey it genuinely, idk why 🤣 Like Rhaena is in denial, but she's CLEARLY still very attracted to him. And he's down so BADDD for her, but he's also really frustrated and annoyed with the current state of their relationship. Like the sex isn't going to be all that frantic, because of the way I've slowly built the tension. But at the same time, Aemond's frustration still needs to be present? At least I want it to be? Like I want him to coax her into this, because deep down she definitely wants it, she's just in denial.

Am I making any sense? I don't really know 🤣 I just don't want it to sound like coercion, and that feels like such a fine line with this scene for some reason 😩 like he's definitely not forcing her to do anything, but he is leading this whole thing. The key for me, is making it really feel like she's down for this and welcoming it all physically even if she's still trying to keep him at arm's length emotionally... UGHH it's a fine line fr.

My goal is to update this fic before I move onto any others. So fingers crossed for meeee 😭

(I'm also working out some more background lore for this modern au universe, like what everyone in the family does career wise, I'm working out who has pets and whatnot, expanding the lore of Rhaena's former relationship with Dalton since I initially made it rather vague...SOOOO get ready for this whole story to expand as it goes. Because I kinda want this story to be a bit more than short fic now 😂)

—

*It's Visceral And It's Cruel* (reg medieval time period)

Nowww this is my bread and butterrrr 🤣 I have about 13k of next chapter (chapter 9) written and ready for editing. BUT I still have about 5 scenes to go, or at least those were scenes I originally planned to include in this chapter.

I'm starting to think adding in all of those scenes will make this chapter TOO long if I include them all here 💀 like I added in two extra scenes to make the narrative flow in a more interconnected manner. But in doing that, it's definitely going to make this chapter too long. And the final scene I initially had for this chapter was going to be the Royal Hunt shenanigans. And THAT is a scene/plot point that needs a lot of time/words dedicated to it. Especially since it's going to be written from Aemond's POV, and that boy is going to be going THROUGH it watching Rhaena purposely flirt with literally every other man there EXCEPT for him 🤣🤣

So I think I'm going to move the hunt over to chapter 10 (even though I promised it would be here 😭😭). Because logically...like I must 😂 I can't let this chapter be 40k in length, I'd take DAYSSS to edit it if I did🤣💀

—

*He Saw Her At Daybreak* (horny married Rhaemond Fic)

UMMMM I actually have no clue when I plan to work on the next chapter LMAO 😂 There are a few things I need to map out plot wise. Like slight spoilers:

But here are the scenes I'm planning on including in chapter 10:

• Actually showing Aemond flying over to Driftmark and interacting with Grandma Rhaenys (for the Spice Towk salt that Rhaena craves).

•Aemond and Aegon actually discussing their mother returning to court for the birth of the baby.

•I want to slip in a sex for Rhaemond, since ya know, this IS the horny fic 🤣and this is my last chance to include the lactation kink before the baby gets here, so I must do it 😂 I'm also thinking that scene could definitely start with pregnant Rhaena being a little self conscious about her body before a family event. Like I haven't had much of that insecurity mentioned for her.

•The family event being the Valyrian equivalent Yule/Christmas holiday event, that's going to be like a nice wholesome gift giving scene. Targ family shenanigans.

•ALL culminating with Rhaena's water breaking and the baby finally coming. Like this baby is COMING in this chapter, most definitely 😂😂 we are ending the chapter with Rhaemond happily holding their newborn baby.

So there's a lot to write, and I'm still only on the first scene 💀💀 but hey, now the 10 of you so still tune in, have an idea of what's to come! 😂😂

—

*Struck by Fire, Drowned By The Sea* (Pirate Fic)

LORD, I PROMISE I HAVEN'T FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONEEEE. AGHHH oddly enough, like this writing process feels like the sex scene in BO&OA, I can't seem to land on the vibe™ for the next chapter (chapter 5). And it's not even a sex scene, so Idk why I'm overthinking it all 🤣🤣

It's weird, really. I usually have a really easy time writing from Aemond's POV for my other fics, but since Pirate Captain Aemond is more of a mystery to both Rhaena and the audience. It for some reason feels a lot harder 💀🤣 like it shouldn't be, but it is 🤣🤣 I've rewritten/restarted this chapter at least 6 times trying various ways to tell the same scene, seeing how much I should give away in his inner thoughts or not. And I just haven't landed on a good ratio for him, like we all know this IS Aemond. But there's still so much of his past that hasn't been revealed, and it's all still a mysterious element for captive Rhaena, she's still trying to figure him out... especially since they've never really met until now.

Their relationship is going to be SOMETHING wild, if I can get past this damn chapter 🤣🤣

—

This just feels like me explaining in depth, four various types of writer's block 🤣🤣

Anywaysss, if any of y'all have any suggestions or helpful ideas, for any of these fics, I'm very open to them 💖

#rhaemond #aemond x rhaena #rhaena x aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #fic updates #it's visceral and it's cruel #ivaic updates!!#burnt over and over again #bo&oa updates!!#he saw her at daybreak #hshad updates!!#struck by fire drowned by the sea #sbfdbts updates!!

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goldensunset · 2 years ago

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it’s past 2am and i should be in bed but i can’t stop thinking about that headcanon that strelitzia and lauriam are from some sort of rich or noble family in daybreak town

•the fact that in japanese lauriam apparently uses a more formal personal pronoun while around other people but when it’s just him and strel in private he uses a more casual one, which could be read as him attempting to keep up some sort of fancy public appearance

•in that same vein wasn’t there something about strelitzia using a strangely formal honorific for her big brother in that scene? idk

•y’know what just in general i think lauriam always acts like he’s trying to be soooo polite and refined

•the fact that their outfits are very not typical square enix style. i mean daybreak town as a whole breaks the mold of nomura’s usual design philosophy but strelitzia and lauriam i think are the furthest away from the ten thousand accessories and metal things vibe. their outfits (by western standards at least) seem very fancy and like. not Weird. bright pink pants are a stretch sure but my point is you might see someone wearing those outfits in our world

•what are the odds of BOTH of them having been originally chosen to be union leaders. big town and you somehow hit the mark on two kids from the same family, MoM? especially when strelitzia claims to not be particularly skilled, qualified, or notable. i smell a pair of nepotism babies…

•strel’s namesake, strelitzia reginae… royal vibes there

•lauriam’s future title being ‘lord of the castle’

tldr i think the flower siblings come from money and/or prestige. or at least that’s my headcanon even if i turn out to be wrong about some of these things you can’t take it away from me

#kingdom hearts #khux #strelitzia #lauriam #flower siblings #continuing to feed myself the content that nomura will never give me #mine: kh

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sunnynwanda · 11 months ago

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Part 1 Part 3

Rays of dawning sun dance across Vanki's scrunched face, prompting him to peel his eyes open. He basks in the warmth of the morning light, allowing his face to grow hot before pushing himself off the bed. It's been a total of seven days since he was dragged into the castle on the hill, interrogated and informed that he would be staying.

Vanki expected to be led into a dungeon then - his kind never trusted with freedom. Though he was not. Of course, he was still locked, but his room was nothing short of royal. For the first few days, Vanki woke up before daybreak and went to sleep only when the castle fell into languid slumber. Soon, however, he grew accustomed to the comfort of his large bed and the tranquility of his bath. Perhaps a little too quickly.

The King visited him every day but kept his distance, sensing the tension in the boy's shoulders and seeing his restless eyes darting back and forth during their conversations. Vanki was surprised to discover how much the King knew about vishaps. He never dared to ask about the scar, wary of indulging his curiosity. His gaze must have given away his thoughts unbeknownst to him because, during one of their conversations, the King rubbed his chin, his eyes crinkling slightly.

"I earned this one when I was around your age," the King had said with a lighthearted chuckle. "Went swimming into a vishap's lake to see what would happen - turned out he did not like being woken up from his nap."

Vanki let out a snort before he could stop himself. He looked up with wide eyes, fearing he had offended the King, but the man was laughing at himself.

"I expected to grow some scales or, at least, a tail, but a scar would have to suffice." He added, winking at Vanki, who was entirely astonished. His mom used to tell him about the times when vishaps lived in peace with humans, but Vanki always assumed it was thousands of years before his birth. The King did not look old enough to him.

"I've never turned," he mumbled under his breath, timid at the confession. His grandmother was bitterly disappointed when she learned about it. Vanki's breath hitched, worries about receiving the same disappointment again resurfacing.

"I know," the reply caught the boy off guard. Noting the confusion on his face, the King continued. "You're too young. I don't think you've slept, either?"

"No," the young vishap shook his head, his fingers twisting the edge of his shirt. "My mom didn't want it. When she died, my grandmother wanted me to go through the stone sleep, but I was scared, so..." He trailed off, not finding it in himself to finish the sentence.

"So you ran," the King concluded for him, his stare distant but not indicating any hostility. Vanki fell silent, searching for words to thank the King for his hospitality and to be greedy to ask - no, beg - for more of it. He didn't have to because the King spoke before he could. "As I said, you can stay."

Vanki's head snapped up, his eyes misty from unshed tears. He wanted to speak, to express how thankful he was, but his voice was nowhere to be found, stuck in his throat in a thick lump of disbelief and gratitude.

"But you cannot stay locked up in this room forever," the King smiled at him, a playful glint taking over his disposition. "How about you meet my wife and kids tomorrow? Then we'll think about school, hm?"

Vanki's head bobbed so enthusiastically he was scared he would damage a vertebra. The King huffed out another laugh, delighted at the boy's enthusiasm. Then he left the room, leaving Vanki shaking with anticipation and mortifying dread.

What if they don't like him? What if they ask the King to kick him out?

Vanki runs a hand over his face as he finishes tying the strings of his fresh shirt. Today was the day that would mark the first time he left his room. He was set to be introduced to the royal family right before breakfast, which was nearing like an impending doom.

Vanki glances at his hands, noticing the spreading black stains on his fingertips and halting his pacing to take deep breaths when a knock is heard. A servant unlocks the door, pushing it open and peeking in. She breaks into a broad smile the moment she spots him.

"Come on then, the kids cannot wait to meet you." Her voice is so cheerful that Vanki forgets his worries for a moment. He follows her along the corridor and down the stairs - all the while listening to her excited chirping. When they reach the large wooden doors, the lady stops, offering him another smile before sending him in.

Vanki feels as if he got submerged in the warm waters of his mom's favourite spring when he enters the room. For several seconds, he forgets how to inhale, trepidation fluttering his heart to his throat. His fears prove idle because the Queen rushes towards him, welcoming him with a tight hug and a kind smile. Vanki feels himself lean into her touch but is interrupted by an extremely excited squeal followed by a boy colliding with him at full force. Vanki stumbles back, managing to remain on his feet by a miracle of coordination. The kid's hands circle him with an iron hold, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

"That's Sar, our son," the King introduces with a laugh while his wife struggles to pry her son's hands off Vanki before the boy collapses from lack of oxygen. "He's five and a half and has been dying to meet a new friend."

Vanki looks down at him and is met with the brightest smile he has ever seen, even though the boy lacks a front tooth. When Sar finally releases him from his suffocating hold, Vanki notices another child tucked behind her mother. She looks older than Sar but younger than Vanki and has bright ginger hair, making it impossible for her to hide despite her best efforts. The King nods for his daughter to come greet their guest.

"And this is Amber," the Queen informs, prompting the girl forward. "She is about two years younger than you."

Seven, Vanki counts. He offers her a hand, and the girl shakes it shyly, jerking her hand away the moment Vanki's fingers loosen around hers. He wonders if she is scared of him and decides that she must. The assumption is soon denied when the siblings barely finish breakfast before dragging him out into the inner garden. Sar won't stop talking as he suggests a game after a game, and, if Vanki is honest, he has never had that much fun in his nine years of life. By the time the day fully breaks, Sar announces they are now the best of friends, which doesn't seem true to his sister.

Amber is weird.

She won't talk to him, instead opting to poke his arm until he pays attention to her. Even when Vanki tries to speak to her, she only communicates with him by nodding or shaking her head. At first, he thinks she doesn't like him, but that does not seem true since she continues playing with him and even shares her stolen cookies when they lie down on they grass to rest after the eventful morning.

Vanki is even more confused when Sar is taken away for his afternoon nap. He expects Amber to leave, but she grabs hold of his sleeve and pulls him after her. He follows wordlessly, curious to see where she is taking him, only to find himself led into a library. For the entire afternoon, Amber shows him her favourite books, still not uttering a word, and, when they leave to prepare for early dinner, she helps Vanki carry all of the books they've picked for him to read and smiles while waving him goodbye by his door.

As Vanki sets the books on his bedside table, he smiles to himself, delighted to have befriended Sar. He isn't sure where they stand with his sister. Amber is weird. Vanki can't help but like her nonetheless.

Part 1 Part 3

Masterlist

A/N: Vishap stones or Vishapakars are dragon stones, characteristic monoliths or stelae found in large numbers in the Armenian Highlands, near sources of water. They are believed to be images of vishaps, built to protect their respective water sources and honour the vishaps. In the Legends of Vishaps, however, vishap stones are the bodies of the sleeping vishaps. Vishaps can sleep for a thousand years, not waking up unless called upon.

xo Sunny

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsbl

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heartthumpnovel · 1 year ago

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Heart Thump: The Cursed Prince AU

Part 2

Word Count: 9846 Since the short got about nearly a 100 notes (Holy shit you guys :'D) I kind of have to create the promised follow up. This is gonna be a mini-series I think to help break up the monotony of writing the canon story while still being related. Chapter 7 in canon is still cooking so, have this second part being about Natasha convincing Jason to do the one thing I get asked often.... to touch grass. Part 1 Part 2 (you are here)

cw: Implied past abuse, panic attack

—

The morning light flooded gently into the bedroom window as it reflected on the dust settling in the cluttered bedroom. While it wasn’t a complete mess, it had various garments and sewing supplies scattered throughout with a half-completed lute lay on the desk. Definitely needed some love and care around the place.

During the morning rise as the room brightened up, a figure shifted and moaned in the bounds of pillows that nearly covered every square inch of the bed. A dark and nicely taken care of hand reached out from the mountain of pillows to search the bedside for the goblet of water. Her fingers felt the cold marble of it and attempted to grab it, however she missed the mark on it and shuffled the goblet just far enough to where it tipped on the end and made a loud thunk on the floor. “Gods damn it.” Natasha mumbled, dragging herself out of bed. She pulled off the towel that was holding her hair as she forced herself into consciousness. Her dark curled hair fell onto her shoulders and a bit into her eyes. She huffed and rubbed her eyes, wondering what time it was supposed to be as it felt like she just got back into bed.

She could smell the morning dew and saw that the light had entered her bedroom, if she had to guess it was just after daybreak. Her eyes widened. “Oh! OH-!” She shouted as she ripped the sheets off of her and let the pillows be thrown all around her bed as Natasha leapt out of bed.

“Craaaap- I was supposed to finish it today before.. Ugh!” Natasha strode to the lute she was in the middle of repairing and sighed as her fingers trailed the wood of the base.

“Suppose there’s next time...” Natasha mumbled as she stepped away and opened her wardrobe with force. Her arms searched through the closet that could have been deep enough to hold at least one lion.

“Right, thinkin’ pink today… ” Natasha said to herself as she rushed to put on her normal going out wear which comprised a nice yet reliable blouse with a vest and her nice riding pants, “And just to be on the safe side…” Natasha pulled out her shoulder guard and attached the belt to her chest. Can never be too safe in the wilder woods, even if everyone she’s met there has been friendly. Though the one person who she met out there was a guy who was trapped in a tower by their royally messed up family, she still considered that one friendly face out there.

With that, Natasha rushed to her dresser and did her best to braid up her hair on short notice. The dressed up Natasha strolled out of her room and paced down the hallway, trying to think of ideas to bring to her meeting with the cursed prince. Originally it was going to be her bringing some delightful music to play, though her lute broke a few moons back unfortunately, and she’d been procrastinating on fixing the thing.

While he was on her journey down the hall, the servants doing chores gave their greetings to the noble lady as she passed by them, in turn she also greeted them with a warm smile. “Mornin’ Farin!” “Good day, Sanguine!” “How’s that leg treating you Steven? Hope it gets better soon!” Natasha then made it to the main hall where there was a grand staircase leading to the entryway. Just as she was about to jostle down the stairs, she could hear a woman clear her throat. Natasha sighed and turned around to be met with Miss Gurnda, the chef her mother hired ages ago. “Morning Gurnda, do you need anything?” Natasha asked genuinely. “Oh dear Lady Natasha, Sorry for keeping you but, I’ve noticed you’ve not been home during morning breakfast or lunch. Are you eating well?” The older woman asked with concern in her eyes. “Awwhh,” Natasha said, scratching the back of her head, “I’m sorry ma’am… spring is the best to forage for herbs and I’ve been trying to make sure I’ve had enough supplies before summer hits.”

Natasha then raised an eyebrow, “Wait what’s that basket for?” Natasha asked as she pointed at a basket with a cloth covering something that smelled of roasted garlic and potato.

The older woman gave a chuckle and moved the cloth a bit to reveal some nicely done potato rolls, still steaming and the scent was mouthwatering. “I know I won’t be able to keep you here,” The chef said as she handed the basket over to Natasha, “But it will be a chilly day in hell if I left my little rosebud to starve out there.”

Natasha held the basket handle in her arms, feeling her heart flutter and she reached out an arm to hug Gurnda enthusiastically. “Awh thanks Gurnda!” She cheerfully spoke as she held the basket close to her side, “You’re too sweet.”

Gurnda returned the gesture with a hug of her own before Natasha made her way down the stairs. The old chef could have sworn that Natasha was in a happier mood than usual. Before Gurnda could wave off Natasha, the noble lady turned around from the grand doors and looked up at her, “Oh and could you do me a favor?” Natasha asked, “Don’t tell ma or pa I’m out in the woods again.” The chief raised a suspicious eyebrow before chuckling. “Alright but, you’re going to be the one to tell them my lady.”

“I’ll tell them when they stop tellin’ me what to do.” Natasha returned with a grin before she pushed the front doors open to leave. Gurnda sighed as she walked off to do her morning duties as she shook her head.

----

Natasha rushed towards the stables with her basket of delicious goods as she traversed through the front gardens. She passed by the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming marigolds with a spring in her step. Happy to get to see the cursed prince, as if she was young again and was skipping to a playdate with their childhood best friend.

Sure, it had only been a month, but visiting Jason during her herb runs had become the highlight of Natasha's days. She never imagined finding happiness while harvesting lavender in the allegedly dangerous wildwoods, where only brave souls dared to venture. But the moment she saw the man grumpily yelling at her to leave, call it cliché if one must, it was love at first sight.

In all the tales and rumors about the cursed Atlas prince, none of them ever described that the giant trapped in the woods was handsome and a cute flustered mess. Though the rumor mill is rarely honest and she found it quite sad to hear people still believing that he’s just some Atlas super weapon gone terribly wrong. Instead of seeing a monster reaching out of the tower to eat nearby travelers, she had seen a lonely man who just needed to get outside. Natasha sighed at that prospect as she left the luscious gardens and headed towards the stables to get her horse ready for another trek in the woods. Despite having spoken with Jason multiple times since their first meeting, he seemed disinterested in leaving the small prison tower. While it was understandable that he feared people hunting him down, Natasha couldn't help feeling crestfallen whenever he gazed wistfully towards the outside world.

"Hey Nirvana," Natasha greeted her white and brown spotted steed, who was busy munching on hay, "You ready to go?" The horse responded with a huff before pulling its head out of the hay, swishing its tail indifferently. Natasha brushed her fingers through the horse's mane and secured the basket of delicious dumplings.

“Where the hells do you think you’re going?” a familiar gruff voice spoke up that made Natasha’s shoulder’s jump. Damn it.

Natasha smiled and turned around to see her childhood best friend and coincidentally, the head of the city guard. The knight was already dressed down from head to toe in his steel armor that only lacked his helmet to let his brown curly hair lie low as it allowed him to show his disapproved scowl. “Ohhh heeeyy Axel,” Natasha said, “How’s it going?” “Don’t give me that ya weasel,” Axel spoke with his hands going to his hips, “You’ve literally been ditching sword training all week.” He would not let her off the hook. Natasha sighed as she turned back to her horse to complete tying the basket to the saddle, “You know I really don’t gotta do that, unlike you knights.” She commented with a side eye as she could feel the angry stare Axel was giving her through his bangs.

“Yeah I guess but, who was the one to ask about getting trained!?” Axel scoffed, he clasped his two hands together and pressed them on his cheek as he pretended to speak with an exaggerated higher pitch and whimsy.

"Oh, Axel, you're so strong and badass! If only I, a child with a silver spoon in my mouth, could swing a sword like you! Could you pwetty pwease teach me your ways so I can defend myself in the big scary woods while I pick pretty flowers?~" “Oh shut up! I don’t talk like that.” Natasha retorted with an eye roll, “Look I’m sorry I’ve not been able to make it, I’ve just been busy with spring.”

Axel huffed, leaning against the barn wall behind Natasha. "Come on, Nat, what's really going on?" he asked, watching as Natasha tried her best to ignore him. "You love beating up the hay dummies at the training grounds."

Natasha loved Axel like a brother, but he could also be annoying like one too. "I'm practicing a special formation called Nyanabussiness, bloodhound," Natasha said, making the mistake of glancing up at him. That one point of eye contact was enough for Axel to understand what she was hiding.

“You…” Axel said with a mischievous grin, “Youuuu are sneaking out to see someone!” Damn it. The knight burst into laughter with the sounds of his chain-mail clanking. He put a hand on his forehead and tried to regain his composure to speak as Natasha’s cheeks darkened. She sputtered trying to hide what she already pulled out to the open. “It-it’s not like that-” Natasha tried to interject though the knight wasn’t letting up.

"AHAHAHA- oh gods, this is rich!" Axel exclaimed before patting Natasha's shoulder hard, "Who's the unlucky sod?"

The noble laughed before shoving the knight away playfully, “We’re not courting!” Natasha said, “We’ve just been hanging out at his place since he’s a bit of a hermit.”

“Oh wow,” Axel said as he scratched his slightly hairy jaw, “The daughter of politicians is going out to see a lowly hermit in the wilder woods… scandalous.” He smirked as he watched Natasha untie the reins off of the stable’s post. “It won't be scandalous if nobody finds out.” Natasha pointed out as she grabbed the saddle of her steed and hopped right onto the horse. Axel just stood there and crossed his arms, he knew better than to stop her.

"Alright, well, take care, will ya? I ain’t in the mood to come and rescue you," Axel said half-jokingly as Natasha rode the horse out of the stable. She didn't bother to look back and responded with a sarcastic thumbs up as the horse galloped away.

Axel shook his head with a tsk under his breath, hoping that Natasha knew what she was doing.

----

Most people feared the wilder woods for a good reason; it was a dangerous place if one wasn’t careful. While the forest itself seemed perfectly safe at first glance, with beautiful flora growing and the wild life thriving in this ecosystem, it was dense and made for a good hiding spot for bandit camps or rogue magic users. Since it was also the middle point of the Atlas and Solaris kingdom with a rather profitable trade route, many who worked outside the law found this forest to be a haven for their robberies.

Thankfully Natasha had known a good part of these woods for a while and usually traveled away from the primary routes. Her horse was trained to traverse off of paths and she had steered clear of smoke from campfires. Criminals weren’t the only thing she was cautious of however, she had heard of fae being active in the area and while she had seen none herself; she made a note to avoid rings of mushrooms and marked focus sites. And then there are those who warned of the mysterious giant. That one she chose to ignore.

Her heart raced as she found the grove that had hidden away the initial path to the clearing with the tower. Natasha didn’t want to risk getting her horse hurt from having to traverse through the underbrush, so she tied Nirvana up to a tree branch. Before she left through the bushes, she untied the basket from the saddle and patted the steed gently on his muzzle. “That’s a good boy…” Natasha whispered as she pulled her hand away, “Yell if there’s trouble you hear me?” The horse huffed in acknowledgement before it leaned it’s neck down to eat the luscious grass growing by the tree’s roots. Natasha turned to the grove and made her way through the prickly bushes and leaves as she protected the goods within the basket. By now she knew her way through the branches and had made a small path for herself after countless visits. She was cautious to not get her clothes torn because she wouldn’t hear the end from her mother.

Once she pushed aside the final bush, she saw the aging stone brick tower that was settled within the forest clearing. If Natasha wasn’t aware of the context that prison held, it would have been a nice centerpiece for a painting. It wasn’t a watch tower, she had seen similarly designed buildings before. The tower that stood tall in front of her was a prison for those who were banished, thus the maddening monotony of the brickwork was hardly a pleasant subject for a picture.

The noble wondered how in the world Jason held himself together in that place. Natasha wished deep within her heart that he would just let her free him to avoid such a terrible fate.

Never minding that, she pressed on through the clearing and traversed over the small walking bridge to get to the base of the tower. She cleared her throat and called up to the lone stone balcony to beacon the prince.

“Rapunzel, Rapanuzel, let down your hair!” Natasha yelled. “How many times are you going to use that joke?!” The voice from up above responded.

“Hey, I still think it’s funny!” Natasha responded as she crossed her arms. She listened closely from below, as she could hear a little clanking and rustling. This time around she pondered if she was going to see him large once more. He had ‘shifted’ for lack of a better word to describe it, twice after their first meeting. However, he hasn’t shifted drastically since then or, she just hadn't noticed. While it pained her a little to not witness the magical phenomenon again, she understood that it wasn’t her choice to make.

Eventually, she spotted those adorable wide hazel eyes peeking over the stone balcony, and those thin piano-like fingers clutching onto the edge. A smile spread across her face as she raised her hand to wave at the prince within the tower.

"Hey, how's it going, big guy?" Natasha called upwards, unsure if Jason had transformed into his taller state, as the distance between them made it hard to tell.

Jason revealed his smooth face and lanky chest, flashing a sweet dimpled smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, you know, not doing much out here," Jason replied, "Though I did finally figure out a good balance to make tea from the lavender you graciously gave me." He twiddled his thumbs over the edge of the balcony, contemplating something important. “Uhm, would you kindly join me for a spot of tea?” He asked, loud enough to be heard but quiet because of nervousness. “You want me to climb up there?!” Natasha excitedly asked, fully prepared to make the climb if she had to- but, right after saying that Jason shot down her suggestion. “OH, no no no!” Jason exclaimed as he waved his hands, “I-I wouldn’t want you to accidentally injure yourself from climbing up here and me being.. well, me.” Natasha felt disappointed for a moment, “Awh… then how-" Before she could finish Jason pushed away from the balcony and came back with a tied basket in hand. He smiled in pride as he patted the items covered in the basket. “Keeping safety in mind, I’d thought I would just send your portion just uh, be careful with my tea set will you?” Jason said with sheepish politeness in his speech, “It’s the only one I have.”

While it was a downer that they would not be meeting face-to-face, she guessed he wasn’t ready for that yet. Natasha brushed off the disappointment with an excited thumbs up and a wink.

“I’ll treat it as gently as a newborn,” Natasha swore as she raised a hand in oath. With that, Jason gently hung his basket on the rope so graciously given to him from the first time they met. The basket slowly came down and it landed softly between Natasha’s palms as she reached up to it.

As she untied the basket from the rope, it ascended once more. Natasha wasn't about to let that happen. “Woah, hold on there, your majesty,” Natasha's voice was filled with playful reproach as she tied her own parcel with the rope. Of course, she nabbed one bun before tugging on the rope twice.

It took a couple of moments of stunned silence when the basket disappeared from Natasha’s sight for Jason to acknowledge what Natasha sent up. This gesture felt just like a gift exchange as they each unraveled the goods within their respective baskets.

“You made pastries!?” Jason exclaimed as his head popped out of the window, she could tell he was smiling, “Oh gods, you didn’t have to feed me!”

“Kinda obligated to,” Natasha spoke as she unfolded the blankets that were keeping the teapot warm, “We’re friends now after all.”

Natasha heard the tower’s bricks crumble a bit from above as she unveiled a surprisingly humble tea set. It was indeed porcelain, though it was plain white and had a single blue rose insignia on the side of the pot itself. Sure it was nice though, she expected a royal first born like Jason to have something more gaudy.

She held it up to examine it further with her curious dim wine eyes before pouring a cup of her own. Smells of the lavender and honey had a very relaxing effect on her senses the moment she poured it. Definitely wasn’t something she should drink this early in the day but, she was gracious for the free drink.

“Dang this really nice,” Natasha said as she held the teacup in her lap, “It’d be great for a bad night’s sleep that’s for sure.” The lack of response from Jason prompted her to look up to see he had gone back into the tower. The first thing she noticed when he did return was his towering form, about as tall as a healthy apple tree, crouched from below the window frame. She had to try extremely hard to hold back laughter when it looked like he had a comically small teacup and plate in his large hands. Despite the sight looking ridiculous, his fingers held it regally as a future king should and rolled his eyes, Wondering what was so funny.

“Ahem- Apologizes if the tea is a bit sedative,” Jason spoke as he held the tiny cup to his lips, “I’m used to preparing it this way so I can calm down whenever … this happens.” With that he inhaled deeply and despite being farther away, Natasha could see his form shrink immediately with a calmed sigh. With that- Jason took a sip. “Ahh, see? Much better..” He said as he leaned on the side of the balcony to gain a better viewpoint of Natasha.

“This stuff isn’t going to shrink me too is it?” Natasha asked as she was in mid-sip.

Jason had to hold back laughter to not spill his tea and swallow harshly in order to correct her. He cleared his throat with a few pats to his chest. “Ahem- Heavens no!” Jason explained, “Height altering stuff like that doesn’t exactly work on me, plus even if it did- I wouldn’t think of spiking you with it!” Jason stirred the tea with a small silver spoon as he shook his head. “It’s just a calming agent,” Jason said, “Frankly it’s not even alchemy and yet, for some reason works the best to help me get back into the right shape.”

A pit fell within Natasha’s stomach. ‘Right shape’? Something about the way he was referring to himself wasn’t sitting right with her. Her eyes stared into her cup for a moment in silence, thinking.

“Uh?” The voice from above spoke in confusion, “Is everything alright Lady Maryrose?”

Natasha suddenly chugged down the lavender tea and set her cup in the basket with a determined look on her face that was barely masked with a sweet smile. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” Natasha said, “I think this tea party would be a lot nicer if we were by a scerne lake, wouldn’t you agree?” By the look of his grimminced face that too was also masked by a grin, his voice seemed to be peaceful but his eyes told a much different story. “I-I mean I suppose it would-” Jason shuddered as he put his own drink down, “Shame really.”

“Why shame though?,” Natasha interjected as she put one hand on her hip and the other pointed her thumb to the woods, “I know a great secluded pond near here that I think you’d like-” “You know I can’t do that!” Jason interrupted, a tinge of sadness prevailed through his firmness, “The cursed prince of the Anderheart family AKA, ME, stays in the tower in order lest he cause the end of the world!”

“Says who? Your dad? I don’t see him around to catch you sneaking out ya know.” Natasha spoke with a grin as she laid a hand on the stone walls, “Even from down here I know you couldn’t hurt a fly if you tried.”

“I-uh, No, I mean-” Jason fumbled as he crossed his arms inward, “What-what if I can’t control myself and accidentally step on you!?” She had the audacity to shrug. “Eh, accidents happen.” “...Natasha.”

Before the prince could acknowledge Natasha’s rather self destructive behavior, she placed her hand on the wall gently as she looked up at him with eyes that were just as earnest as a kitten. “Wouldn’t it be nice to change scenery once in a while Jason?” Natasha said, “You have your calming agent with you so if you get uncomfortable out here we can deal with it.” She then clasped her hands together with a smile, “I’ll admit, I’d really like to see you up close.”

Jason's expressions were unreadable as he turned away. Anxieties bubbled within Natasha as she wondered if it was too early to make such a request. She knew he was resolute about staying indoors, yet, as an outsider looking in, it pained her to witness anyone in such misery. This simply wasn’t just.

“I suppose if one were to think about it…” Jason spoke up, Natasha darted her gaze upward, “It seems like curing my curse isn’t going to be an option, so perhaps I could train myself to stay calm and be basically normal. ”

Natasha sighed, while that wasn’t exactly the mindset she was hoping for, it was going to be better than nothing. “So are you gonna come out?” Natasha asked. “...Yes.” Jason answered, he turned around whipping his face with his long silk sleeve.

----

“Actually- I might not be too sure about this!” Jason squealed as he was holding onto the rope, his butt having not even left the stone balcony. He sat upon the balustrade with both of his legs dangling. He could already feel the sweat form on his palms as he was gripping on the twine. They’d already been able to get the basket into Natasha’s arms and the last thing they needed to send down was the cowardly prince himself.

While a door would have been the more sane option, these towers weren’t made for prisoners to just up and leave. The only way to enter the tower, or for things to be transported in, was this measly balcony. Sure it wasn’t a problem for his druid friend who could turn into a bird anytime she pleased but, Jason was far from any wild shape master.

“You’re gonna be fine!” Natasha shouted upwards, “Just hold on to the rope and step down against the stone wall real slowly, you don’t want rope burns!” She set the basket down next to the teapot package beside her and outstretched her arms. “I’ll catch ya if you fall,” she said with a wink, “You trust me right?” “Ri-right…” Jason mumbled, he wasn’t sure if he’d developed a fear of heights or if the little Atlas pleaser in the back of his mind was telling him he was making a grave mistake. However, he’d gotten this far, and he didn’t want to get her hopes up for nothing.

Jason took in a deep breath of the spring air, closed his eyes, slowly pushed himself off the edge and pressed his heels onto the stone wall. If it weren’t too late to turn back now, he’d be scrambling to get back to the safety of his cage. His heart was beating out of his chest and sweat dripped from his forehead as he hopped his way down. He nearly fumbled as for a moment his left foot lost traction, he gripped on tight to the rope with another squeal with his eyes held shut. His scrawny arms had already strained as he held onto dear life. “Get yourself back onto the wall Jason!!” called Natasha, her worry starting to set in, “You’re doing great for your first time!”

“I doubt that…” mumbled Jason as he swung his legs back into position and made another kick down. About two-thirds of the way through, the climb had already felt like hours rather than just mere moments and Jason was putting his full focus into not--

“KA-CAWH!” “AH!- aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!”

An unfortunate crow decided that moment was the perfect time to swoop down near the eardrums of the prince and scream the song of its people. Good for the bird, not great for Jason as his hands lost grip on the rope. Jason screamed, believing his short and rather pathetic life had ended in an ironic tragedy.

“Oh sh- I GOT YOU!” Was the last thing Jason heard before he shut his eyes, his world going dark.

----

"AGH! Oh my Gods—Jason, are you alright!?" Natasha exclaimed, her voice filled with concern, as she felt Jason's limp body fall into her arms. "J-Jason!? Anderheart!? Your majesty, are you okay?!" she cried out.

She kept her balance despite the surprise leap as she stumbled from the impact. Her arms instinctively held onto him tight, her heart feeling like it could burst out of her chest with fear. Looking down upon the prince, she could feel him breathing through her hands. Releasing a sigh of relief, Natasha jostled him a little to see if he would wake up. That’s when she noticed a few things about him. Firstly; he was tiny. Not as small as a halfling or a forest elf but, he was definitely short for a grown man and he was as light as a barely filled sack of cabbages. On account of his gangly arms, he definitely wasn’t fit enough to scale the tower. Natasha wasn’t even a classically strong woman herself and yet, she was having no problem holding him.

Secondly; she noticed his pale skin which looked like it hadn't seen direct sunlight in a while, which to be fair, was the truth. Despite this however, it wasn’t pristine as there were a few tattle tale bruises from his collarbone and forehead. It didn’t take a genius to surmise that these were from surprise growth spurts from the claustrophobic walls of the chamber. If it went for the regal clothing and the sparkly dark opal on his circlet, people would believe he was in prison for a decade.

Lastly… well, he was strikingly handsome. Natasha had to admit when she first saw him, she thought he was pretty cute from far away but, up close it was like the gods blessed this man with the jawline and fae-like daintiness. She’d felt a pang of guilt for teasing him when they first met. Sure, it probably was flirting but, her playful flirting was used to see if she could call a bluff about ‘magical growth powers’ Jason warned about. A groan startled Natasha out of her thoughts, noticing that Jason stirred and his doe-like hazel eyes, that were hidden behind his knocked askew lenses, squinted from the light.

“Ugh, did I make … it…” Jason murmured, his fingers rising to re-adjust his glasses, before his eyes fully widened as they were met with eyes of near celestial dim wine eyes.

While they were both blushing, Jason’s face turned completely pink and despite being in a trance, Natasha could feel her arms suddenly undertake a mysterious weight. Suddenly, Jason squirmed dramatically and pushed himself out of her comforting embrace. Natasha would have been more disheartened about that if she hadn’t seen his previously frail form lurch in height.

She let the fallen angel go and bore witness to the curse, almost doubling him in size, though he somehow still looked lanky even if he was in the same size class as an earth troll. Natasha was struck with awe, staring at him without saying a word for a moment. While no fear touched Natasha’s heart in the slightest, the feeling wasn’t shared with Jason.

The, now 7ft, prince’s face flashed with terror as he backed up against the stone walls of the tower. His gaze darted between Natasha and at the stone balcony above as he tried to catch his hyperventilating breath. “No no no no!” Jason finally spoke up with a distinct stuttering in his voice, “It’s already happening, This was a mistake!” He spun around and attempted to grab the stone bricks with his large frail hands, failing to get anywhere as his palms stung from the rope burn.

“I-I need to get back inside!” he shouted in panic, not noticing Natasha approached him once again to get his attention.

“Jason?… Jason…” Natasha’s pleas fell on panic-stricken ears, “Hey, it’s okay!” She huffed when her voice was being tuned out by the prince’s scared ramblings. Her initial approach of treating Jason like a frightened rabbit wasn’t working out, so she took the next step.

His flowing shirt sleeve was jerked down hard enough to where Jason finally shut his mouth in surprise. His own shoulders tensed and he turned his gaze back down. When their eyes met once more, Natasha’s heart fell as his eyes were trembling and nearly welling up in tears.

Oh, the poor thing.

"And check it out, you’re free!" Natasha reassured, her gesture encompassing the blossoming meadow that surrounded them. A smile graced her lips, beholding the realization dawned upon Jason. He fell into silence, his mouth slightly agape as he contemplated the situation. His eyes left Natasha and his gaze fell upon the lively grove that surrounded the tower.

Gradually, he moved, stepping away from the tower and crossing a small water stream. Natasha followed close behind him, her grin stretching from ear to ear. She couldn't help but wonder about the sensation of breaking through the constraints that had bound him for so long.

His near-pristine shoes brushed against the fresh grass and the gentle spring breeze lifted his charcoal hair gently. There was a pause in his movement and Jason just stood there, presumably taking it all in. Natasha trotted to catch up with his longer legs and crossed her arms, joining him in admiring how lovely the forest was.

Warmness filled her heart, seeing the childlike wonder in his eyes from the wilderwood’s kind greeting. The sunlight held the prince’s skin in a motherly embrace and songs were sung by the insect fauna. At that moment, it was as if she was seeing a whole new person.

A tear dripped down his cheek, which was followed by a soft smile.

“Not bad huh?” Commented Natasha, nearly tearing up herself. “No… not bad at all.” Jason responded.

----

Truly, words from Jason’s favorite novels could not have described the lovely ambiance of an enchanting forest. Glances through his window had only a fraction of the majesty of a soft breeze and the sounds of thriving life surrounding them. It was beautiful, and with the sun warming their casual stroll, one would assume Jason would have been having the time of his life.

That couldn’t be farther from the truth.

In actuality, Jason was in complete inner turmoil whether Natasha knew it or not. It was only just a couple of minutes since they left the view of the tower, but Jason was already being plagued with thoughts of doubt; wondering if he was a bad person for putting the world in jeopardy for a simple picnic, and he was hyper aware of every thought that passed through his mind. He’d already lost control when he fell into the comforting embrace of Natasha when he stupidly let go of the rope. Now he’d be stuck being as tall as a horse, if that horse was on hind legs.

On the other hand though, it proved useful that he could now carry both baskets easily and keep walking pace with Natasha, who was on her steed. It would only be a minute before they arrived at this pond the noble spoke of, by then Jason could drink the tea and shrink back to normal as planned.

However, Jason was now finding it much, much harder to control his thoughts as he’d discovered something else detrimental to the picnic plan that he didn’t account for.

He foolishly fell in love.

Perhaps it was the rush of being saved by a captivating and free-spirited noblewoman, but when he looked into her mystical eyes, it was as if Cupid's arrow had struck him. Unfortunately, his curse, triggered by a racing heart, wasn't connected to happiness. It was specifically romantic love that caused his growth spurts. While romantic themes in literature or daydreams about being saved by a knight could trigger the curse, he had never actually felt romantic love for another person until now. Jason barely made eye contact with Natasha since they left the tower, though he’d unconsciously risk looking at her as they kept conservation. It might have been the newness of being this close to another human being that wasn’t Ellinor, but he couldn’t help but to take in the details he noticed about Natasha, now that they were side-by-side. For trekking out in the woods as often as she did, her blouse with intricate lace was prim and proper for a lady in a well off household. Even her riding pants were only a bit stained at the bottom from the kicked up dirt. Though despite the initial daintiness her appearance was, she had a steel arm guard on her shoulder and a standard short sword holstered at her hip. Jason remembered her mentioning that she was trained to weld a blade for protection. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she had to use it very often. What really caught his attention though, was the soft cheeks of her face and lovely eyes. Plus her braided hair was extremely impressive, and she pulled off the look very well.

“Ahem, Jason?” Natasha spoke up as she caught him blatantly staring at her. Jason looked down, noticing that the basket handles he had looped on his forearms were suddenly tight. The horse needed to have a pat on the head to calm itself when Jason suddenly sprouted another foot and a half. “S-sorry! I’m trying to keep it together the best that I can out here…” He mumbled, swiftly staring down at his now dirted leather shoes, “I’m doing a rather terrible job at it.”

“You’re doing just fine, big guy,” Natasha responded, “You’ve haven’t attempted to flee to that dinky prison more than once.” “That’s not even what I meant…” Jason grumbled, turning his gaze back to Natasha, “Could I ask you something actually?”

“Try me,” Natasha said, looking up at the giant with an eager grin.

“Why are you not terrified right now?” Jason said as matter of factly as asking how someone’s day went, “Everyone else, even Ellinor, gets tense when I transform like this.”

Natasha jolted a bit when she had to hold back a huge laughing fit, this just confused Jason even more. Before Natasha could give her explanation, Jason leaned down a bit over her in confusion.

“I’m serious!” Jason said, “Just because I’m not prone to violence and raised to be a polite young prince doesn’t make the growth any less strange! How are you calm about all this!?” Upon catching her breath from the laugh she had to hold back, Natasha closed her eyes confidently, petting the back of her steed’s mane. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re capable of hurting anybody,” Natasha said, “Not only that, My best friend is a lycan and trust me, those guys have it much more gruesome compared to your little spurts.”

At first Jason nodded, thinking that was a perfectly reasonable response until… “Wait!? A LYCAN!? You mean a werewolf!?” Spouted Jason, thinking he somehow heard wrong as there was no way a gentlelady like Natasha could be associated with one of the most dangerous beings to roam the Atlas forests. He had never encountered one himself, but he has read stories of mortal men being cursed to turn into fearsome beasts and eat innocent people. Natasha could see Jason’s face run pale, but didn’t let Jason squawk the lies he’s been fed. “Right, I almost forgot you’re Atlan,” Natasha said, “Most of them are nothing like the stories in your books, They’re pretty much sentient as humans are and got instincts of a dog, not a monster.”

“But-but the attacks..” Jason mumbled. “Either bandits, or newbies who think the only way to fill their hunger is by eating people because that’s what they were told werewolves do.”

“Oh-oh..” Jason didn’t exactly have proof of his own to stand on, and the fact he is a cursed man himself didn’t have the right to assume terrible things about others. “I suppose I trust your judgment more than anyone else’s,” Jason said, “I’m sorry for assuming your friend was a beastly brute…” “Oh no he totally is,” Natasha responded with a laugh, “While he gets on my nerves, he’s been there for me since we were kids.” “Ah.. I see,” Jason said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Truly you are not a judgmental person.”

“What’s there to judge?” Natasha said nonchalantly. “Right we’re just about there.”

After turning the corner, blocked by thorn bushes, Jason let out an audible gasp upon beholding the breathtaking lake. He had encountered depictions of lakes in drawings, but this scene far surpassed his expectations. The sight before him exceeded his imagination; the water sparkled under the midday sun, while life teemed in vibrant abundance all around it.

“Whatcha think?” Natasha asked, dismounting her horse and securing the lead to a nearby branch. Jason had already begun making his way toward the lake, emitting a low whistle. The innate beauty of nature had always drawn the prince, it also served as a distraction from certain matters on his mind. “The water looks nice,” Jason commented as he set the baskets down on the lush grass near the water’s edge, “Didn’t expect a lake filled with this much life to be so clear.”

Natasha was quick to approach his side and playfully elbowed his free arm with a smile. “You wanna go for a dip?” Natasha suggested, though Jason’s eyes darted away from her with embarrassed mumbles. "Actually, I can't swim," Jason admitted candidly. "Life in the tower and all that..." “Oh,” Natasha’s spirit fell a little, though life returned to her eyes when she spun around and raced towards her horse. “That’s alright! Let me get the blanket!” It didn’t take long for the picnic to be set up as they brought little to eat. However humble it was though, it was more than enough for the both of them. After all, the food and drink played second fiddle to the enjoyable company they shared. Jason had to confess that the buns Natasha had brought were not only the spiciest but also the most delectable filled pastries he'd ever tasted.

The conversation they shared started small, but like meadow flowers, it bloomed beautifully. At one point the both of them were having so much fun, Jason’s height relaxed to a size where he could comfortably sit on the checkered blanket.

“There actually hasn’t been another heir in your kingdom,” Natasha explained as she stirred her spoon in her cup, “From what I heard, the current king is having terrible luck bearing any, so technically you’re still next in line if you wanted the crown.” “Ugh,” Jason groaned, “Even if the people magically want me to be their ruler somehow, I don’t think I’d be cut out for it...” He shifted his arms to hug his knees, taking a break from drinking to not hog all of it himself. “Heh, yeah same honestly.” Natasha answered, though didn’t seem to elaborate on what she meant as she stared off into the lake. This piqued Jason’s curiosity and he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Say, you never really talk about who your family is...” Jason mentioned, noticing Natasha suddenly not wanting to make eye contact, “You’re a noble right?” A pit fell into his stomach when she didn’t respond right away with the warm demeanor she’d had up to this point. He lightly tapped on his cup with a finger. “I apologize if that’s a bad subject for you-” Jason tried to cool it over but Natasha interjected with a sigh. “Nah, nah it’s alright,” she said, finally turning her head in his direction, “My parents are good people, it’s just…” She had to think for a moment to find her words, Natasha fiddled with one of the loose strands on her hair. “My family is a part of the governing Circle in Solaris, has been voted in to help rule for generations.” “So you’re basically a princess?” Jason questioned, he wasn’t quite knowledgeable about Solaris politics and had a basic understanding of the democratic process.

“Definitely not, ” Natasha responded, “The people are the ones who decide who gets to be in the Circle, I’d have to campaign just like anyone else and most of the time have a choice to run.” “But you don’t?” Jason wondered, bending down a little to be eye level with Natasha. “My parents have raised me to be in the Circle just like the generations before me,” Natasha said with anger boiling in her chest, “Hells, if I even mention the thought about doing something else other than government work they throw a HUGE fit!” She crossed her arms, still not wanting to make eye contact.

“I hate how we honor freedom for all and yet for some reason I’m selfish for wanting to have freedom of choice!?” Natasha ranted, grabbing the sides of her head, “Now that I’m old enough for professional study, they have been insistent to tie me down to study bureaucracy! It’s just so…” “Not fair?” Jason said. “Yeah.” Natasha confirmed.

In order to comfort her, Jason attempted to reach a hand down and pat her lightly on the shoulder in solidarity. Though as his palm made contact with her vest, his hand roiled and Jason hissed a bit in pain. Natasha jumped a little and spun around to see Jason cringing at the sight of his raw palms.

“You alright!?” Natasha asked in concern, standing up to get a better look at Jason’s hands. “Owww, that smarts…” Jason grumbled as he rubbed the small burn wounds, “My hands are still in pain from the rope incident.”

“Let me have a peek at them,” Natasha said as she reached her hands over to gently grasp the tips of Jason’s fingers, pulling them close to her. He could feel her soft hands rub against the rough skin on the injury slightly. It caught Jason’s surprise when instead of closely inspecting the wound, she just closed her eyes and started to whisper a single word that he couldn’t quite catch. His hands jolted from surprise when a pleasant glow formed around his palms. The light managed to obscure the burns, though he could feel the rough pain from the warm wounds dissipate instantly. It felt like a pleasant chill upon his hands and just as fast as it appeared, the light faded away to reveal his hands being completely healed.

Jason looked at Natasha in awe and before he could speak, she already had an answer ready for him. “Dad used to be a cleric,” Natasha explained, “He taught me a few handy cantrips but, I can’t do anything majorly breathtaking.” “But, you are breathtaking...” Natasha raised her head, wondering if she heard him correctly, though she was met with a sight of an incredibly flustered man who just realized that he said a thought that wasn’t meant to be said out loud. This was also the moment where Jason realized not only did he accidentally flirt with her, but he was holding her hands.

The scandal.

Suddenly, his hands engulfed hers, and the growth spurt triggered his knees to nudge a teacup, toppling it over and threatening to break its porcelain rim. Jason’s heart was beating wildly, and the enlargement kept startling pace with it. He barely had time to scramble away from her as his surroundings became wildly different from before. His surroundings morphed into an entirely different scale, the once-shady trees now surrounded him, the once-vast lake seemed a mere puddle.

Struggling for breath, he crawled back on his hands, retreating toward the clearing's edge, which now wasn't far from the picnic site that had been so peaceful before. Horrified that his shoe was now large enough to topple it all over and it was right beside Natasha, who at this point was standing up with an unreadable shock on her face. "Jason?!" Natasha exclaimed, extending a comforting arm. "Okay, let's take some deep breaths, big guy—" She moved closer, but before she could reach him, he yelped, scaring the birds from their nests in a cacophony of fear.

"DON'T COME CLOSER!" His shout, though unintended, rang out powerfully, the potency of his voice a byproduct of his size. He regretted it instantly, aware of how dangerous his voice had become at this scale. The sight of Natasha covering her ears only intensified his heartache. Closing his eyes tightly, he felt the grass beneath him meld together, the oak branch he'd backed into pressing heavily atop his head. “Yeesh, no need to take out my hearing.” Natasha's voice pierced through, her intent unclear as she ventured closer despite his plea. He struggled to curl up further as he embiggened, knees pulling toward his chest. “I- I'm sorry.” Jason mumbled relatively quietly. The tightness in his chest didn’t alleviate and his fingers had gone numb as he gripped his hands close to his sides, beseeching his own subconscious to regain control. He hadn't been this height since…

Old spear head wounds burned on his gut and ghostly impressions of chains of his past clutched his throat. He could barely recall anything but the pain and the harsh words pitted against him by the very guards sworn to protect the family.

His body, as quickly as it began expanding, stopped engulfing the grove they were in, however Jason could tell he wasn’t shrinking back to normal. A frightful thought raced through his mind, his stomach churned at the thought of him being stuck as a gigantic beast daring to feel anything other than dismay.

His mind, clouded and unable to think of anything other than the pain he’d been enduring his whole life, he could hardly hear Natasha’s voice getting closer to him. Though he managed to understand some of her words as he could feel a tiny tug pull on his sleeve. “Your knuckles are going pale,” Natasha’s voice said to him, “Unclench them and breathe hun, you’re safe.” Jason swallowed, and uncurled his fingers as she requested. As he was comforted by her presence, he couldn’t help the guilt boiling up inside himself for putting her in not only an uncomfortable situation, but a dangerous one at that. He tried to speak up, but he couldn’t find the strength to talk through his hyperventilating. Immediately he was soothed by pats on the edge of his forearm which felt as if a swallow decided to perch on his arm. “Come on, deeeep breaths,” Natasha encouraged as she demonstrated herself while speaking, “Nice and sloowwww.” He struggled to find a moment, but when he did, he took a long deep breath of air and shakily released it. Feeling was beginning to return to his body as he could sense the small blades of grass on the ground and the wetness on his cheeks. Despite him re-gaining his senses, he still refused to let himself have his vision back. Deep down he knew that whatever he was going to see, it would probably make him pass out completely. Jason managed to clear his throat and speak with a pathetic whimper in his tone.

“I-I am so sorry,” Jason said, “Th-this is very unbecoming of me… Hells, I ruined everything didn’t I?” He choked back tears, and tried his best to hold sobs. He heard a quiet chuckle that was paired with an out of place sniff, “Nobody looks dashing crying,” her voice spoke, “And that doesn’t matter… trust me you’ve done nothing wrong.” Jason could sense her presence lean over his wrist, her gentle touch petting the back of his hand just as if someone was tracing their smallest finger tip across it. “Didn’t realize how bad this could get..” Natasha wearily commented as Jason steadied himself. The giant heaved a sigh while his head hung low. “I told you,” Jason spoke, “This is why I have to be locked away…”

“That’s not what I mean.” Natasha sighed as she momentarily retracted the touch Jason yearned for. Before he could ask what she meant by that, he felt the air swish over his wrist and then a tug at his side of his waist. He’d almost forgotten he was curled up against an oak tree for a moment. He felt pressure wobble on top of his stomach, a sensation he’d yet to feel when he was rarely large like this. His ears then caught Natasha’s small voice in front of him, confirming the presence that was now standing on him was her. “Please open your eyes,” Natasha said, “I need you to look at me.” “B-b-but what if I-” Jason stammered. “It’s going to be okay,” Natasha re-affirmed, “I promise.” He froze. Two trains of thought had collided in his mind. On one hand he was worried if he were to see her beautiful face again he’d destroy the entire forest however, Jason’s trust had been handed over to Natasha many times before and if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have had the courage to step outside the prison he thought he could never leave. It may have been naïve of Jason, but ever since they’ve met that fateful day he felt like he her judgment was solid. Especially how annoying she could be with her earnestness. Jason gently let his breath go, not wanting to blow away his passenger off of his chest, and opened his eye lids gingerly.

He had to adjust his eyes from the afternoon sun shining, though once he managed to blink a couple of times to clear his vision. The scene was just about the same before he closed his eyes; his body took up nearly half of the shore of the lake and the picnic blanket could have easily been mistaken as a handkerchief. However, when his pupils focused on the figure in front of his face and standing just below his lower ribs, he noticed that an adorably small Natasha was staring right at him. Though was she… crying?

----

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Natasha thought if maybe, just maybe, the prince would find happiness by stepping outside and figuring out that he didn’t need to be miserable for the rest of his life just because he was cursed. Sure, it would probably be rough the first few trips into the woods but what she failed to account for was the situation of him having a full blown panic attack. Self love evidently wasn’t easy to teach. Especially if she didn’t practice much of it herself.

Guilt riddled her soul when she saw that mortified face and subsequent tears that followed. How could she have not realized that he was going to rehash horrible feelings from growing to a height that he was forbidden to be at? In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been so selfish and taken this entire going outside thing slowly. Her need to see his charming face up close had forced him to confront his issues far before he was ready to. Did she even have the right to trample on his boundaries like that? These thoughts boiled over as her tears betrayed her when she stood face-to-face with Jason.

“I’m.. so sorry.”

She choked up, staring into those enormous doe eyes. His eyes were slightly red from the tears that were going down his cheeks. The uncertain twitches of his lower eyelids steadied themselves once his pupils managed to dilate upon seeing her. Jason spoke up in a gentle whisper, which at this size sounded more like it was at a speaking level with a rasp in his tone.

“Oh no no no…” Jason said, “You didn’t do anything that heeds an apology.” Natasha clenched her fists, she felt like the giant prince was just being cordial for her sake. She was hoping to hear him say that she forgives her miss-step. Her head shook. “You don’t have to be so undeservedly kind to me,” Natasha said through tears, “I messed up big time and took away your sense of safety from you… Now you’re suffering.” A lavender smelling huff of wind blew through her hair, a moment of disbelief passed before Jason spoke up again, “I’m not suffering- well, not by your hands anyway.” When Natasha didn’t give a response, the large comforting presence continued speaking. “In fact, you gave me something wonderful Natasha,” Jason said with a weary grin as Natasha looked back up at him in confusion, “You gave me a choice.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha asked, wondering where the hells Jason was going with this. “I chose to come with you to our picnic,” Jason said, whipping his face a tad with a long sleeve, “I’d never have left by myself, I wouldn’t have had the courage to and would have been miserable.” “But aren’t you miserable now!?” Natasha interjected, “If I gave you anything, it was a heart attack!” The collar of her laced blouse was wet with tears, at this point she covered her face in shame. Embarrassment of sobbing in front of him had begun to dog pile onto her mind as well. Why did she have to be so ignorant and get themselves into this horribly awkward situation? Her own mind kept coming up with more cruel things she felt guilty of before..

Natasha suddenly felt something soft press on the side of her head.

Her eyes opened and the sight made her gasp, if she was seeing this right; A silky blue handkerchief folded gently on a finger tip that could have been mistaken as a small bedside table at first glance. Natasha looked up and saw his eyes pleading with her. “Uhm, “ Jason whimpered, “Thought you could use this..” Not wanting to decline this adorable man’s offer, she took the favor and dabbed her cheeks with a soft smile. “Thanks…” Natasha exasperated, “Look I’m sorry for-” “Natasha.”

“...Yeah?” “I had an incredible time with you today, Thank you for everything you’ve been doing for me,” Jason said with genuine heart in his voice, “But please, don’t tear yourself down because of my need to process… uhm. This.” He emphasized by looking down at his chest which was about as wide as a king’s bed. Natasha’s silence gave Jason more of a chance to speak his peace. "It's not your duty to ensure I'm not miserable," Jason explained, a chuckle resonating through Natasha's boots. "Your company is more than enough..." The prince's heartfelt words left Natasha momentarily speechless. Even if she didn't believe she deserved mercy, an inexplicable sense of happiness enveloped her. The sweetness of the prince's heart must have expanded along with his body. She wondered why she felt so gosh darn happy. The noble patted down her tears one more time before reaching and wrapping her arms around the finger that gave her the handkerchief, giving it a tight squeeze.

SNAP

“Owch!” Natasha pulled away from the sound of Jason’s squeal and was met with a slightly bigger hand and the prince rubbing the of his head. There laid an oak branch upon his shoulder that was broken at the stem. A brief, stunned silence passed between them.

"I, um, apologize for that—" Jason began.

“Oh no, I should be the one sorry here- I forgot about..." Natasha's voice trailed off as she too offered her apology.

A moment of pause hung in the air, their eyes locking. And then, they both chuckled. Natasha patted the tip of the finger that Jason had extended to her, a sense of camaraderie bridging the gap between them. After all, what was there to judge?

#g/t #giant tiny #heart thump #gt writing #writing #gt community #gt #giant #giant/tiny #AU #fantasy #Cursed Prince #size difference #tiny

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