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arrantsnowdrop · 4 years ago

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Informalities - Éomer x reader

Request: “Eomer x reader fic where the reader is from our world and Eomer listens to the stories the reader says of our world and he thinks that it is a grand place and so when they are finally getting together, Eomer feels kind of insecure cuz he feels he'll never live up to the reader's "standards" and the reader says that they are insecure because he is a prince and she has nothing"

Tags: @thewhiteladyofrohan

Warnings: mention of battles and death, about 2,200 words

A/N: Hoppy Easter lads and lasses, we are back from a many month writing hiatus. Hope y’all enjoy, I’m glad to be here :)

You genuinely had no idea how you’d ended up in Middle Earth.

It was one of those fever dream situations - one moment you were falling asleep in your own bed, and the next you were waking up at the bottom of a tree, surrounded by many bearded and concerned looking men.

Of course you’d been startled and so, so confused, but it had only taken you a few moments to recognize the characters from one of your favorite stories, and then you’d fully accepted your new reality.

By the time you first encountered the fellowship, they had already lost Gandalf at Moria and passed through the realm of Lothlorien. They were traveling in their fancy elvish boats when they’d spotted you from the river. You were extremely grateful for that - who knows what would’ve happened if the Uruk-hai tracking them had found you first.

Boromir and Gimli were quite intimidated by your presence, having been brought up in traditions that designated men for warrior roles. Aragorn and Legolas were much more accepting (female elves were just as badass as any male elf or man, and both of them knew that). The hobbits had all taken an immediate liking to you, and you’d been devastated to lose them during the Uruk ambush. Of course, this only gave you a stronger drive to track them into Rohan with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

It was there that you met Éomer for the first time, after his riders surrounded your small group of assumed invaders.

He was handsome, there was no denying that, and you found his decision to protect Rohan even in exile extremely brave. He’d been startled by your presence (a group including a dwarf, an elf, AND a woman must’ve been an oddity for him), and thus had talked primarily with Aragorn, but you could not shake the way his eyes locked with yours as he offered you his condolences about Merry and Pippin.

You figured you’d never see the handsome blonde again, glumly complaining to Gimli about it several times throughout Rohan.

Thus, you’d been overjoyed when he arrived at the Battle of Helm’s Deep - half because he was saving your asses from almost certain death, and half because you’d get to see his face and hear his voice again.

You followed Aragorn after the battle, searching for Gandalf in the celebrating crowd. It did not take long, with his bright white robes being quite easy to pick out.

“Gandalf!” you screamed gleefully, weaving between the people around you to get to the smiling wizard.

“It is good to see you, (Y/n),” he said as you embraced him.

“Oh, it’s even better to see you,” you said.

“I have to agree with (Y/n),” Aragorn said from behind you. You pulled back, allowing Gandalf time to greet your friend, and quickly caught sight of a familiar face.

He had been laughing with some other men when his gaze fell on you, eyes locking with yours for the second time. You smiled a bit and offered an awkward wave, face flushing as he flashed you a smile.

“Ah, (Y/n), this is Lord Éomer, current heir to the throne of Rohan,” Gandalf said, noticing the two of you staring at each other.

“We’ve met before,” he said, walking towards you

“Indeed we have,” you replied as he stopped just in front of you. “It is a pleasure to meet you, oh-future-king,” you said, bowing a bit.

You could hear Aragorn slap his forehead from behind you and grinned.

“She’s not from around here, so do forgive her manners,” Aragorn said.

“Or lack thereof,” you added, straightening yourself once more and looking at Éomer’s amused face.

“I appreciate the informality,” Éomer grinned. You spun around and pointed at Aragorn.

“See? Someone appreciates me,” you accused.

You were extremely happy to meet Éomer. It’s not that you didn’t adore Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli, but they were also the only people you’d been around for quite a while. It was exciting to make a new friend, especially one so handsome and charismatic.

The two of you spent the entire ride to Isengard delving into each other’s lives, from childhoods to secret fears to favorite foods. Obviously, the two of you had led quite different lives, and he was fascinated by the world you had come from.

“These cars you speak of, are they like horses?” he asked.

“No, they’re much faster,” you replied. “They’re more like a carriage, since they have space for several people inside.”

“But it moves without a horse?”

“Yup!”

“Who steers in then?”

You were grinning ear to ear at the look of bewilderment on his face.

“One of the people inside,” you answered. “There’s a wheel to control which direction you go and pedals on the floor to control the speed.”

“That sounds terribly complicated,” Éomer said, brows furrowing.

“It’s not too bad,” you said, “I was even pretty good at it.”

Éomer shot you an alarmed look.

“You used to steer these...these things?” he asked incredulously. You laughed and nodded. “You have to be taught how to do it,” you explained. “It’s not like they throw you into it without any preparation.”

“It still sounds extremely dangerous,” he decided.

“I did break my arm in a crash once,” you said thoughtfully. He gasped.

“You can crash them?”

Éomer had quickly become one of your favorite people, which only made the continuous battles over the fate of Middle Earth even more stressful. You were terrified he would ride into a fight and never return, and even more terrified of what that meant.

You’d searched for him for hours after the Battle for Minas Tirith, heart growing more and more heavy as you continued. Every person you asked had no idea where he was, and by the time you returned to the White City, your hands were shaking with anxiety. Finding him outside of the makeshift infirmary that had been set up was the most relieving moment of your entire life.

You had gasped the moment you caught sight of his all too familiar golden hair, letting out a desperate sob as his eyes met yours, him rushing over to you and wrapping you in his arms. Your embrace was filled with all the emotions both of you were too terrified to say aloud.

“I thought you were dead,” you murmured into his chest, eyes wet and lips trembling.

“It will take far more than a few Oliphaunts to kill me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted nothing more than to tell him in that moment how much you loved him, but decided against it. You knew the fighting was not over, the last thing you needed was for him to be distracted by you during battle and find himself impaled with some pointy object. If you both lived to the end of this, you would tell him then.

But then you were too scared to do it.

Of course you had won - the ring had been destroyed, Aragorn had led the crusade against the forces of Mordor, and Gondor was preparing to crown its long lost king. Everyone was staying in Minas Tirith until the coronation, but then everyone was leaving. All your friends would be heading home, but you did not have one of those here in Middle Earth.

Aragorn had already offered you a place in Gondor’s leadership, and thus a permanent residence with him, and the hobbits were more than happy to escort you back to the Shire with them, but you knew both of these options would separate you from the one person you wanted to be with.

All you wanted was to follow Éomer back to Edoras, but you were unsure if that would be best for him. He was about to be crowned king of Rohan, and probably had many ladies of Rohan’s nobility lined up to rule with him. It was selfish for you to think you had any right to his heart, especially when his duties and responsibilities were so much more important than an outspoken, title-less woman.

So you distanced yourself from him. You avoided him whenever possible, taking the longest routes you could to dinners and meetings. You tried not to be affected by his desperate gaze, or the way he called for you as you rushed out of a room. It hurt you more than anything, but you knew it would be better for him in the long run. You succeeded with your plan until the night before Aragorn’s coronation.

You’d been walking home from dinner (a huge, pre-celebration feast that qualified as a celebration itself) through an old, twisty corridor. You opened the door to your room only to see Eomer sitting on your bed, a worried look on his face.

You jumped slightly, startled by his presence.

“What are you doing in here?” you said breathlessly. “This is totally an invasion of my privacy and absolutely uncalled for at such a late hour, you almost gave me a heart attack-”

“Forgive me,” he interrupted, standing up from the bed, eyes fixated on you. You both stood there in silence for some time, the closest you’d been to each other for the first time in days.

“I missed you,” he murmured finally. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You looked down at your feet and nodded. You did not want to see the look of betrayal that he was undoubtedly wearing.

“Why?” he whispered. You winced at the sound of hurt in his voice.

“You would not understand Éomer, but I promise it was in your best interest,” you replied.

“You are my best friend, (Y/n), how could ignoring me benefit me?” he asked incredulously. You looked up at him, trying to ignore the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“Éomer-”

“Please,” he cut you off desperately, slowly walking towards you. “I have missed you more than you could possibly imagine.” “That is the issue,” you whispered, closing your eyes to avoid looking at him.

“How is that an issue?” he begged.

“Because you are about to be a king,” you shouted, eyes still closed. “And you will leave after tomorrow with everyone else, back to Edoras, where new responsibilities will be awaiting you and demanding your attention.”

“How does that have anything to do with you?” he asked, voice sounding a lot closer than before. You gulped, sensing him right in front of you.

“I would be a distraction,” you replied meekly. Éomer did not reply, but instead reached to grab your hands with his own, you gasping as he pulled you into his chest.

“(Y/n), you are not a distraction, how could you-”

“I do not want you to leave me here,” you interrupted, resting your forehead against him. “I am so scared I’ll never see you again, but your life is about to be so much more important than me.”

“I do not want to leave you here,” he said, wrapping his arms around your back. “I want you to come with me. You’re my best friend, how could I abandon you?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” you whispered, “even if I were physically with you, that would not stop me from...from…”

You stopped and bit your lip, terrified of the confession about to pour out of you. Éomer moved his hand below your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

“Stop you from what?” he whispered intensely, eyes searching your face desperately. You exhaled breathily.

“I love you, Éomer,” you said softly, watching as his expression softened. “So, so much.”

He blinked once, twice, registering what you had just said, and smiled, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours.

“I love you more than anyone, (Y/n),” he murmured.

“But, surely there are women back in Rohan who are far more suitable for-”

“(Y/n),” Éomer said seriously, pulling away to look you in the eyes once more. “I have the power to be with whomever I choose.”

“But why would you choose me?” you asked meekly. Éomer chuckled, brushing a stray bit of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear tenderly. You leaned into his hand slightly, relishing in the way he cupped your face.

“I was more nervous that you wouldn’t choose me,” he admitted. You look at him in confusion.

“How could I not choose you?” you asked.

“You’re much more interesting than I am,” he shrugged. “You come from a world that is so much more exciting than mine, and the last thing I want is for you to settle for me.”

“Éomer, you stab people with swords and ride horses all day. And live in a castle. That is insanely cool,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “Of course I choose you.”

“And I choose you,” he murmured, pulling you closer to him. “Please come home with me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding fervently. “Yes, please.”

Éomer grinned, tilting your face up to his once more and leaning down to kiss you. Your heart leaped, hand reaching up to grab the back of his head to intensify the kiss. He moaned softly, bending down to pick you up and twirling you around. You giggled and pressed your nose against his.

“I’m thinking we make my coronation far less formal than Aragorn’s,” Éomer said, “as much as I’ve been loving these dinners, I don’t think I could stand hosting them.”

“You know I’m fantastic at informalities,” you replied.

#eomer x reader #eomer #eomer of rohan #eomer fanfiction #eomer imagine #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings

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lick-me-lennon22 · 3 years ago

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Trans Man!Reader X Beatles headcanons/How they'd support a trans (FTM) partner + help them through dysphoria 💙💙💙

(lengthy title, I know ^^' this amazing request is from @anonymous-blanket ! they originally asked for how the Beatles would help a trans [FTM] reader through dysphoria, but I sort of expanded it to add general headcanons- I hope you don't mind :) 💞)

⚠️⚠️⚠️DISCLAIMERS:⚠️⚠️⚠️

- I myself am a cis woman and this is solely based on the experiences my trans guy friends have been so kind as to share with me, as well as some of my own research on gender dysphoria and grounding techniques

- this is NOT entirely accurate to the 60s or 70s

- I have written these with the assumption that the reader has already come out and has transitioned or is currently transitioning; with that being said, none of the lads would ever out you or disclose your identity before you are ready to do so yourself/without your permission!

- all of the boys would respect your identity and address you by your name and preferred pronouns !!!

- please feel free to (kindly) correct me if any of this post is offensive or incorrect! I have written these headcanons with nothing but love and respect for the trans community ♡

Paul:

when you come out to Paul (if you were together before you began your transition), he's so proud of you for being your authentic self and so glad you're willing to share something like that with him

he immediately offers to take you out shopping and buy you a more masculine/comfortable wardrobe, as well as items such as boxers and binders if you want them

whenever you're up for it, Paul does your eyebrows and some masc contouring (if you ever want him to)- he's quite good with makeup, as he often does his own!

along with (of course) using your correct name and preferred pronouns, he showers you with gender-affirming nicknames and compliments ("my handsome man," "my prince," "dashing," "Adonis," etc.)

if you ever feel dysphoric about sitting down to pee, Paul reminds you that he also pees sitting down (hc)- "It's just more comfortable that way, no shame in it," he shrugs

he makes it a point to remind you how strong and handsome you are often

if you're having a particularly bad day and your dysphoria feels suffocating:

Paul respects your boundaries if you want to be left alone or don't want to be touched

he stays close to you and holds your hand if/as soon as you're okay with it

he tries to take your mind off of your discomfort and ground you by serenading you with your favorite songs

he listens attentively if you just want to vent, and gives you plenty of reassurance and words of comfort/validation if you need them

Paul reminds you that however you want to present is valid and that you are still, of course, a man- regardless of idiots who may tell you otherwise

"How can you not look like a man...? You are a man, love" ♡

John:

when you come out to John (if you were together before you began your transition), he talks you through everything you're feeling and listens intently when you share your experience with him

he suggests going to therapy if you feel like it'd be beneficial (he attends therapy sessions as well- hc)

he immediately assures you that he'll beat the living daylights out of anyone who dares to deadname or misgender you

John (without an ounce of subtlety) corrects anybody who uses the wrong pronouns to refer to you

he makes sure you know and always remember that your identity is valid

if you're comfortable with it, John places pride pins on his leather and denim jackets- regardless of the comments people make

he will absolutely go off on bigoted and closed-minded interviewers/reporters who question your identity or your relationship

John accompanies you into the men's restroom if you're nervous (and if you want him to) and will tell off/uppercut anyone who even looks at you the wrong way

if you're having a particularly bad day and your dysphoria feels suffocating:

John reminds you that your body doesn't dictate your gender and that your identity is 100% valid

he offers his clothes for you to wear if that would make you more comfortable

he helps ground you and distract you from your discomfort by putting on a silly movie for you to watch (together, if you'd like)

John carries his/your cat into your bedroom and places them in your lap for cuddles and purrs

he reminds you of what a hot, sexy stud you are ;)

"A... woman?? That's the dumbest thing I've ever 'eard. You can't 'look like a woman,' you ain't one- you're a man, love"

John tells you he can't wait until the day you become his husband ♡

George:

when you come out to George (if you were in a relationship before you began your transition), he sits patiently and listens as you share your feelings and experience with him

on his next trip out to the store, he buys doubles of all the masculine-scented hygiene products he usually purchases (body wash, deodorant, shampoo, etc.), as well as some extra boxers in your size in case you'd want them

when he arrives back home, he wordlessly places the items in your shared bathroom/dresser so you have access to all of them, but won't have to ask if you aren't comfortable enough to yet

he's very mindful about using your correct name and pronouns from the moment you come out to him

George supports you if you're on T and gives you daily reminders, or advocates for you if you aren't and want to be

he supports you equally if you don't want to start T at all!

he reminds you that your presentation doesn't invalidate your identity

he refers to you as "my boyfriend" or "my man," and tells you that you look sexy, dashing, and handsome ;)

if you're having a particularly bad day and your dysphoria feels suffocating:

George respects whatever you want to do and makes sure you're as comfy as possible if you just want to stay holed up in your bedroom for a while

he fetches you some comfy, baggy clothes in case you feel like disappearing into them for a bit, and offers you some of his clothes if you'd prefer them

he'll bring your pet into your room for some extra love and cuddle time

George will be considerate of your boundaries if you don't want to be touched, but stay by your side if you'll allow him

he's taught you how to meditate and will practice meditation with you as a grounding/relaxation strategy

"Remember, darling- your body doesn't dictate your gender. You are a man no matter what" ♡

Ringo:

when you come out to Ringo (if you were in a relationship before you began your transition), he is elated and relieved that you feel comfortable enough to share something like that with him

the next time you leave the house without Ringo, by the time you've arrived back home, he's set your entire dining room up like a gender reveal party: complete with an It's a Boy! banner and everything blue he could find (it's overkill, but he means well)

on the table is a care package he's bought and assembled for you

in it, he's included plenty of masc-scented soap/deoderant/shampoo, boxers, a pricey and great-quality binder (if you've expressed that you want to bind), and a very thoughtful handwritten and decorated card

from then on and if/when you're ready, Ringo makes a point of (re)introducing you to everyone (and I mean everyone) as his boyfriend- you both love the sound of it!

he'll give you the most genuine, validating compliments out of nowhere

for example: the first time you watch your favorite show together after you've come out to him, Ringo admits that he's always thought you looked/sounded a lot like one of the main characters (who happens to be male)

if you're having a particularly bad day and your dysphoria feels suffocating:

if you're still alright with being touched, Ringo smothers you in one of his famous bear hugs and tells you that everything is okay and you're no less valid for feeling this way about your body

he brings your favorite snack/treat into your room for you to eat and enjoy

he'll sit on the bed and engage in honest conversation with you if you feel like venting; if not he brings you all of the pillows, blankets, and/or stuffed animals in the house- as well as any clothes you'd like to change into

he showers you with gender-affirming nicknames and compliments: "my handsome man," "my prince/king," "heartthrob," "hunk," "stud"... some of them silly, but all of them sincere

Ringo is sure to remind you that no matter what your body looks like or how you're feeling about it in this moment (and no matter what bigoted asswipes may say to either of you), you are just as valid and masculine as any other man:

"Because that's what you are, my love- a man!" ♡

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anxious-allie-ren · 3 years ago

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The Rumors.

Coming at you with the next chapter! This one was fun! I really laid some good ground work here and planted some hints for future important plot points. So, see if you can find them! I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next banquet was once again held at the King and Queen's summer estate. But rather than showing up in the evening for a night of dancing and conversation, guests came instead to share a meal and a few waltzes.

All that were in attendance had just enjoyed a delicious three-course meal. A light vegetable soup served with a side of bread, followed by roasted pheasant with glazed potato, and finished off with a delicious iced pudding. You had starved yourself all day for the meal, expecting nothing but a grand spread. It's safe to say you were not disappointed. Your father on the other hand, he was a different story. He had nothing nice to say about the meal, stating that his pheasant was dry and the pudding was too sweet. You were able to conjure up an excuse to get away from him, walking away from your table and into the crowd. You needed to breathe.

You're watching the couples dance around the floor as you feel someone come up to your side.

"Did you enjoy your meal, my lady?"

You turn to see Poe standing next to you, looking as dashing as ever. He's dressed in his usual tuxedo, curly brown hair tamed in a perfect mop on his head. You smile up at him and nod.

"Yes I did. How about you, Lord Poe?"

"Just Poe, remember? I did enjoy it, but I have to say, I wish the pudding had been sweeter."

His response makes you giggle, looking down at your hands. He was so drastically different from your father. Of course they would even differ on something as simple as the dessert.

"Of course, Poe."

Poe turns to look at you. He holds out his hand for you just as the previous dance ends.

"Would you like to dance with me, miss Y/N?"

You nod quickly and place your gloved hand in his, allowing him to lead you out onto the dance floor.

You are swept up in him as you waltz about the room. You could feel that spark from your stroll in the park. Only now, it was beginning to burn brighter, being fanned by the closeness of your bodies. The way he was looking down at you had your cheeks burning red. Poe smiled and held your hand just a bit tighter.

"I very much enjoy the time we've spent together, miss Y/N."

His words take you by surprise. Of course you enjoyed his company. But you were not expecting the feeling to be mutual. You look up in his eyes, a bright smile spread across your face.

"I have as well, Poe. But please just call me Y/N."

_______________________________________________

Those in the crowd watch the two of you as you dance. The spark could be felt by everyone in attendance. It seemed that the young woman who gained praise from the King had found her love match. Any one with eyes could clearly see the connection between the two of you.

That of course meant that both your father and Lord Hux could see this as well. The men were standing off to the side watching.

"I knew she would fall for a younger man. We should have just arranged the marriage and been done with it. You promised me this would be no problem."

"Lord Hux, I can assure you this will simply be a little obstacle in our plans. MY daughter will be your bride by the end of the season."

Lord Hux looks at your father, his brows furrowed in anger. He slicks back his ginger hair with his hand and sighs.

"You're right, your grace. Because I'll be taking matters into my own hands."

With that, Lord Hux makes his way through the crowd and onto the dance floor.

_____________________________________________________

You are broken from your moment with Poe as Lord Hux comes up to the both of you, your father following closely behind.

Poe turns to face him, dropping your hands from him.

"Good evening, Lord Hux. How can I help you?"

Lord Hux scowls at Poe and turns his direction to you.

"I've come to ask my lady to dance with me, if that's alright with you."

You couldn't believe the brazen actions of Lord Hux. It is more shocking that your father was going along with this. He had been so demanding that you behave, but certainly this little stunt would not look good to the ton.

You swallow the lump in your throat. The last thing you wanted to do was dance with him. He had made his intentions very clear in your last interaction. You didn't want to do anything more to give him the wrong idea. Lord Hux stood no chance with you. Poe looked down at you, sensing your hesitancy. He was about to answer when your father stepped in.

"Of course, Lord Hux. Y/N would love to dance with you! It would be her honor."

Your father punctuates those last words with a hard look at you. It was clear you had no choice in the matter. It was either behave now and come out of this with your dignity intact, or walk away and lose the good graces of the King and the ton.

You stay silent as you take Lord Hux's hand and begin to dance with him. Your face is as still as the statues that decorate the elaborate ballroom. You wanted to make it clear to all that may be watching, along with your dance partner, that you were not enjoying this.

Lord Hux drones on about his vast estates, wealth, etc. but you can't bring it in you to listen. None of this information mattered to you. As he continues going on about some group of men he's assembling, you catch the eyes of the raven haired man from across the room.

He's standing amongst the crowd, dressed in a fine tuxedo. You couldn't even take in his attire. All you could focus on was his gaze, which was fixed right on you. The both of you couldn't keep your eyes off each other. Even as Lord Hux twirled you around the floor, your eyes still managed to find him. As the song ended, you nodded to Lord Hux and turned towards the direction of the man, but found that he was gone.

You made your way back into the crowd. You were hoping to find Poe or even the mystery man. You stopped at the refreshments table to get a glass of champagne. As you turned, you spotted the man again. He was talking with a few other men, but the second he felt your stare he looked up at you and met your eyes. You were tempted to make your way over towards him but stopped as two other debutantes joined you at the table. Both girls were beautiful. The one closest to the table had short auburn hair with deep brown eyes. She was wearing an emerald green dress accented by silver beads. The woman next to her had hair that was a bit longer than the other's, but it was a lovely chocolate color. Her eyes were blue, just like the dress she had on.

"Lizzie, honestly. No King is going to be joining the ton this year." The woman in the blue dress states as she grabs a glass of champagne for herself.

"No I'm serious, he's here! Look, he's right there!" Who you now know as Lizzie says and points wildly across the room. You follow her finger and find she is spotted at the mysterious man you've been exchanging glances with. You had to be mistaken. Maybe she was pointing at one of the other men in the group.

You look back to the pair and step closer to them.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude on your conversation. But I couldn't help but overhear you say a King is in attendance?"

The women both turn their attention to you and prepare to make an introduction. The woman in the emerald dress speaks up first.

"Yeah, sorry! My name is Elizabeth, but you can just call me Lizzie. This is Julia."

"Lizzie here thinks that a King from another country has joined the ton this season. I think she's delusional."

You laugh at Julia's comment and introduce yourself.

"Julia, I'm not kidding! My mother told me all about it after the last ball. He was seen talking to

Charlotte. I guess the interaction didn't go so well."

You decide to join in, hoping to get more information.

"Which one did you say is the King?"

Lizzie once again points in the direction of the raven haired man, who is still in conversation.

"That man there, the dark haired one. My mother says he's king of Chandrila. A really broody one."

Julia pipes in, staring at the man along with you both.

"Well, he is handsome. Tall and broad. How do you know he's broody, Lizzie?"

"Oh, he's drop dead gorgeous for sure! But my mother knows some of the lads that served in his army. Said he was brutal."

You let those words sink in for a second before you speak up.

"Well shouldn't you be brutal in battle? I mean especially if you're commanding an army."

"Oh yeah of course. But this wasn't just on the battle grounds. This was to his servants and townspeople as well. Said he would have a big outburst and break things, scream at people, all of that. Seems like a case of another horrid man blessed with good looks. Feel real bad for the one who ends up with him."

You and Julia nod along to her remarks. The two women go on gossiping about others in the ton. You pretend to follow along. But you continue to go over Lizzie's words in your head. Has a king from some other country really come and joined your ton? If so, what was the reasoning? Was he really some dangerous man? It sounded as though he was. It seemed as though you had caught his attention as well.

_____________________________________________

Kylo's POV

Arriving late was not something Kylo was fond of. He hated doing so. But being so far from home meant letters and packages took a bit longer to arrive to him. This resulted in his duties not getting done in the timely manner he was used to. All of this made him late to the banquet. He knew this would come to bite him in the ass.

Kylo had full intentions of going, introducing himself to you, and asking you to dance tonight. But with how late he arrived he wasn't even sure a dance would still be open for him. Or if you'd even still be here.

Kylo scanned the crowd, hoping to spot you amongst all the women in frivolous dresses. With no luck, he turned his attention to the dance floor. There, he spotted you with the ginger haired man from the ball. It was easy to see your distaste for him. It was written all over his face. It took everything in him to stay in place and not remove you from the man's arms. No true gentleman should make a lady that uncomfortable.

Just as he was about to move on and find a drink, you looked up. Kylo felt as if his heart had leapt into his throat and then dropped to his toes. Your gaze was enough to hold him in place. Each spin, twirl, or dip he stayed right there to meet your eyes again. Each time he got that same feeling. He couldn't put a name to it, but he knew for certain he'd never felt anything like it before. He needed to get out of there. The feeling was beginning to get overwhelming. Kylo quickly made his way towards the drink table, grabbing a glass and walking off to a quieter part of the room.

Though of course it didn't stay that way for long. Just as he was catching his breath, two gentlemen came up to him and began conversation. He didn't want to seem rude, but fuck could a man get a moment of peace?

He listens to the men talk about their respective territories and such, including his input every now and then. Suddenly, he felt as though someone was watching him. He looked up to find you staring at him from the refreshments table he had just been at. It felt as though he was just missing you. You turned your attention to the two women who had joined you. Kylo looked down at his glass, half listening to the men in front of him. He was determined to meet you by the end of the night.

_____________________________________________

Many had left already. A few couples stood around chatting while their chaperones watched. Kylo continued to scan the room, hoping he hadn't missed you.

He walks out into the main hall near the doors to the estate. There, he spots you standing off to the side while an older man, whom he assumes is your father, talks with the ginger haired man he'd seen you dancing with earlier. He stands and admires you for a moment. You quietly gaze at the chandeliers and art work that graces the walls, content with just being there.

Kylo walks up to you silently hoping not to scare you from your trance. He comes to stand a few feet from you. Now that he is up close, he can really take in your beauty.

He had very limited experience with women, but he understood beauty. He thinks back to the deer in the forest from when he was a child. It was so naturally beautiful standing in the tall grass. It's antler's seemingly reaching the sky, showing off the deer's strength. He remembers how beautiful he found the animal, how intrigued he was by it. Even up until the end, he wanted to protect it. As he looked upon you, he was reminded of that deer. Beautiful, strong, and something he wanted to protect.

You finally felt his gaze and turned to look at him. Your eyes widened in surprise. Kylo thought for certain he saw fear flash before your eyes before you quickly hid it behind a polite smile. He quickly snaps out of his thoughts. Kylo clears his throat and tries to provide a smile back.

"Hello miss, I wanted to finally introduce myself. I am Kylo Ren, King of Chandrila."

You stand there staring at him for a moment. He's scared he's upset you in some way. Or even scared you off with his title.

"Hello, your majesty. It is an honor to meet you. I am Miss Y/F/N, the daughter to the Duke of Selonia."

Kylo can't help the small smile that begins to form as he hears your name leave your lips. He knows instantly that it will be a name that plays on loop in his mind for days to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There we have it! They've finally met. About damn time am I right? Any guesses on what's coming next?

Also wanted to add that I will be going on vacation for two week starting Saturday. So I will do my best to update in-between then. But I can't guarantee anything.

Love,

Allie

#kylo x reader #kylo #kyloren #star wars #kylorenthings #star wars fandom #fanfic #write #kylo ren x you #kylorencosplay #resistance #kylo ren #regency era #regency #bridgerton #historical

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beatles-slash-fiction · 3 years ago

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Aw so cute ❤️ thanks for the submission @chocolatelovingbookworm

*****

I can't for the life of me get any homework done because I'm bored!!! Lol! Anyway, enjoy a new piece!

George hummed a gentle tune as he was busy at work fixing Dhani's hair to put it into a French braid while the teenager stared at himself in the mirror feeling kinda nervous yet excited at the same time. Tonight, was the night that he and Julian were going to be heading to the Prom as well as the after party dinner in celebration of their final year of High School together; flushed cheeks were soon seen as he could already tell that this was definitely going to be a night to remember especially with the boy whom he had a secret crush on since their very first meeting as children years prior.

"Okay honey, you're all ready now." George announced as he stepped back to allow his son to look at his new hairstyle as well as making a cute twirl thus grinning hugging his Mum real tight to show his appreciation.

"Thank you Mum, I look so pretty." George smiled warmly capturing the neatly pressed white tuxedo that was donned onto his boy along with some light mascara and lip gloss that made his face glow and sparkle. He made a quiet sigh knowing that it was time to accept the fact that Dhani was growing up, and that he was no longer a little boy anymore.

No longer a boy where he would run all the way home from school and talk about his day while sitting at the table with his favorite strawberry milk and chocolate chip cookies.

No longer a boy where he could get to watch any movie that he got to watch after doing so well on his report card.

No longer a boy...where he no longer needed to be taken care of anymore...

And that was the part George secretly hated the most; wishing that he could just go back in time where he enjoyed his pregnancy and enjoyed being needed when Dhani was born. Despite the fact that he and Ringo had been trying for a baby for a whole year, they had gotten their wish when the test had came back positive which was such a happy moment for the both of them, but it became even more sweet once Dhani had came into the world where they had spoiled him rotten knowing that he was their little warrior and fighter.

"Mum, are you okay?" Dhani asked growing concern over his mother who tended to go into his head a lot these days since the younger male was getting older and it would soon be time for him to start University.

"Yes, I'm fine sweetheart. It's just that...I know it may sound silly, but you remind me so much of myself when I was your age especially when I had started going out with your father back then; and now, you have a handsome young lad that you are doing with the same thing as well. You have accomplished so much that I'm so proud of you. I wish...I wish that you didn't grow up so fast, that I just can't stop thinking of you as my little baby boy."

The next thing the Ex-Beatle knew was that long yet gentle arms wrapped around his waist. "Don't worry Mum, no matter how old I'll get, I'll always be your little baby boy." The two hugged for quite awhile until the knocking of the door caused them to look at it being opened revealing to be Ringo with a warm smile on his face.

"There are my two beautiful kings. Dhani, Julian is here to pick you up, the limo is outside." The Boy nodded as the family of three went downstairs where they met the Lennon male who was standing up with a full bouquet of red and pink roses along with a little glass box that held in a corsage. He smiled and blushed seeing his date looking kinda flushed himself as he looked away bashfully.

"Good evening Dhani, my, you look wonderful and beautiful indeed."

"Thank you Julian, you don't look bad yourself." He said eying the young man in the black tuxedo that he was sporting in along with his hair that looked very nicely done straight down like he had gotten it straightened by none other than Paul himself.

"Okay you two! Picture time!" Yelled out Ringo who had gotten the camera as both boys stood next to each other and grinned after hearing the click of the camera going off as well as getting three more photos with them in different but silly poses causing for Dhani to laugh; Jules may had Paul's gentlemanly ways, but he also had John's humor too.

"Ready to make this an unforgettable experience?" Julian asked as Dhani nodded.

"You bet."

"Have fun you two! don't do anything what we would do." Ringo winked causing George to playfully slap him.

"You be safe okay? remember, be home by 10:30 no later than that."

"Yes Mum, I promise." Dhani soon gave him one last hug. "Love you Mummy." He whispered as George smiled softly giving him a blow kiss in return.

And the limo soon started to drive away becoming a distant dot. George and Ringo soon sighed.

"Ironic isn't it? one day you're changing their diapers and rocking them back to sleep, and the next thing you know, they're going to prom."

"Yeah...they grow up so fast." George soon wiped his eyes and sniffed.

"Luv, are you okay?" Ringo asked growing concerned knowing that out of both of them, George was much more closer to their son due to the fact that he watched him grow up throughout the years.

"He'll be alright dear, it's not like they went off to war."

"I know, but he's still my baby."

"George, he's growing up. One day, he will also get married and have a family of his own too." The next thing the shorter man knew was that he was whacked upside the head.

"Don't push it." He then chuckled knowing that things were going to be okay.

#submission #julian x dhani #prom night #george is such a mum #getting ready #picture time

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bangtanloverboys · 4 years ago

Text

until i see you again // ksj

summary - prince seokjin of philos is chosing his bride at his 25th birthday ball and you want to be anywhere but there. unfortunately you’re expected to go as a friend of the king and to escort your younger sister there; to see if she has a chance to win the prince’s heart. unbeknowst to you all, the prince’s eyes are already set upon someone

pairing - prince!seokjin x duke!reader

genre - fluff, angst; royalty au, childhood friends to lovers au,

word count - 9.1k

warnings - historical inaccuracies, reader being an idiot, kissing, implied/referenced homophobia (it’s very slight, won’t even notice it if you squint), sad ending, star crossed lovers, miscommunication but it’s in the worst way possible

author’s note - sorry not sorry for making sad gay stuff oops; clast is part of the title, not yn’s actual family name. additionally, i put in a hint to new fic in here 👀 also @jinpanman since u asked to be tagged 💕 here u go

The stars had always fascinated you since you were a young lad; the shapes they made and the stories behind them, the way they always shifted in the night sky. While the view from your bedroom window at the castle was great, it could never show the full wonderful picture that was the night sky. Hence why you were now laying in the palace garden and staring up into the vastness before you, your arms folded behind your head.

“Y/N.” A familiar voice startled you into sitting up, only to see the silhouette of the Crown Prince Seokjin standing a few feet behind you. You were surprised to see him outside, but it wasn’t necessarily a shock seeing as your current place of residence was his home, the Castle of Philos. Your father, the Duke of Clast, was a close friend of the King, thus meaning he was invited to a lot of formal events. The Castle Philos was practically a second home to you, making it’s prince a close friend of yours.

Of course your friendship was by no mere accident. It was by the design of both of your fathers’, wanting their allegiance to hold strong even with the new generation. Neither of you seemed to mind though, you both seemed to get along great with one another. But as the two of you grew up from boys and slowly approached manhood, you felt something else grow deep within your chest each time you saw the prince.

“Seokjin, you scared me!” You whisper shouted at him as sat himself next to you on the grass. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorted. “I saw you from the window, thought I might join you.” Your cheeks burned at his response as you watched him lay back on the grass, assuming the same position you had only moments ago.

The sight of the young prince was something to behold as he lounged on the lawn, being at only 18 years old he was already picture perfect for everything a prince should be: honorable, intelligent, merciful. One quality you had heard whispered amongst the court ladies was how handsome he was, something not even you could deny. His dark eyes emulated the night sky, reflecting the stars up above. The soft angle of his jaw paired with the dark hair that fell over his forehead framed his face beautifully. Then there was his lips, they looked soft and pillowy; and you wanted nothing more than to feel them for yourself-

“Are you going to lay down or continue to sit there and stare?” He questioned you, raising a sculpted brow at you.

The burn extended past your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You laid down beside him, hoping the cool grass could possibly lower your growing temperature. You laid there, stiff next to him as your gaze locked back onto the sky. Neither of you said a word as the stars twinkled like diamonds above you. You heard the prince shift in his position, now resting on his elbow and staring down at you.

“You’re thinking.”

“How would you know?” You scoffed at his (correct) assumption of your silence. While your voice remained steady, your head was reeling at his closeness. If he came any closer, he could’ve heard your heart thumping away against your chest.

“You forget Y/N, I know you better than you know yourself.” He gave you a sly wink before he slipped back to lay his head back down. “Just relax, whatever it is you’re thinking, I’m sure it’s nothing.”

You open your mouth to protest but a loud booming voice of your name echoed in your ears.

“Y/N. . .Y/N. . . Wake up!” The voice of your younger sister bleeding through as you jolted awake. “Coachman said we’re nearly there.” Through bleary eyes, you glanced about your surroundings. Seated across from you was your sister, Jia, who stared at you as you blinked away the sleep from your eyes. You turned your head to the window, watching as the green countryside slowly began to turn into the village outside the castle.

“How long was I out?” You inquired as you moved to sit up properly.

“A few hours,” she responded with a shrug. “Did you have a nice dream?”

“How would you know I was dreaming?” You asked her, still fatigued from the unplanned nap.

“You were smiling.”

Your heart stung at her words; the question was innocent enough, but a reminder of the hurt you’ve felt since that night. You almost didn’t want to answer her original question, but the eager look on her face had you sighing. No way in hell would she go without an answer. Keeping a neutral face, you replied. “It was a pleasant dream.” That was all you said. There was a slight twinge of disappointment, but she took the answer nonetheless.

Letting out a sigh, you leaned back against the wall of the carriage, thinking back on the dream. It had been almost 7 years since that night with the prince. That was the last, what one might call, intimate moment with him. Because since that night, you had both been bombarded with your respective duties; him as prince and you as a duke to be. Surely you had seen him between then and now, but those moments were brief and far inbetween. In fact the last time you saw him was at the funeral of your father, sometime last year. You don’t remember much of that meeting, overwhelmed with grief to even process that he was giving you his condolences.

But soon enough, you shall be reunited with the Crown Prince for this 25th birthday. Normally you would’ve been excited about going to see Seokjin, all you could feel in your stomach was dread. The reason being as to your visit was because his usual birthday ball had been twisted by his father for him to find a bride. All the eligible ladies in the land, which included your sister, were invited for him to pick one of them out as his future wife. The mere thought of it had you sick to your stomach. Your sister had a possibility of marrying your childhood best friend and your unrequited love, and you had to stand back and watch.

“Can you tell me again what he’s like?” Jia’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. Being a few years younger than you, she never got a chance to truly interact with Seokjin; and since the trip began, hell even before then when the invitation arrived, every few hours she would ask about him. What he was like, what he liked, if he was nice. Why she would ask this when all she had to do was wait a few hours before meeting him herself, you’d never understand.

“Prince Seokjin is nice. He enjoys reading the history of the 7 kingdoms. When his father goes out hunting, he is usually required to join, but he will do anything he can to get out of it.” You droned as you stared out the window, surveying the commoners as you passed them by.

“You’ve told me all this before though,” she whined, “What else is there to know about him? What was he like when you were boys?” When you remained silent, she poked at your knee, attempting to get some sort of answer out of you. “Come on, Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention towards Jia. “He’s always been fascinated with food and the process the cook would go about making it.” You started, noticing how your sister leaned forward, hanging on your every word. “We’d sneak into the kitchens, and he would just watch the cook as he cut up vegetables and meats. He’d go on about how if he wasn’t the prince, he’d want to be the cook.”

Jia barked out a laugh, “Did he really? For such a handsome man, he sure has some interesting habits.”

You gave a noncommittal hum as your stare returned to the window, watching as the villagers made their way out of the street and gawk at your carriage in awe. You could tell the journey was slowly coming to a close, and you weren’t sure if you wanted it to end yet. The dirt road turned to cobblestone beneath the wheels, it was only a matter of minutes before you arrived at the palace steps.

Jia frantically began flattening out her gown and making sure her hair wasn’t out of place. The trip from Philos Castle to the Clast Manor was merely a half day's ride, it wasn’t like much had changed from when she had left.

You exited the coach first, immediately greeted by a handful of guards who were lined up the stairs of the castle. You wondered how long they’d been there and how long they’d have to be until everyone had arrived. Glancing about, you saw that there were a few more carriages arriving in the courtyard.

The clearing of Jia’s throat pulled you back to the task at hand, you extended your arm out for her to grab onto as she stepped out onto the cobblestone. “Wow,” she awed as she stared up at the vast castle before her. You couldn’t blame her, the sight of Philos Castle was something to behold, especially if it was your first time seeing it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the footmen pulling down your luggage and ready to carry it to your rooms. A silent notice that it was time for the two of you to get going. “Come along, Sister.” You started as you began to climb the steps.

Upon reaching the main entrance, you were greeted with the familiar face of the Steward, who perpetually looked like he had just tasted the world’s most sour candy. “Your Grace,” he bowed to you. “And Lady Jia. The King and prince are greeting their guests in the Grand Hall. Follow me.” That said, he turned and made his way down the hall. With you and your sister on his heels practically the entire way, you arrived at the Grand Hall.

The Grand Hall certainly lived up to its name. With high ceilings, beautiful pieces of art mounted on the walls, all glittering in the light of a golden chandelier. It was the picturesque dream of wealth and beauty. But all of its beauty couldn’t compare to Prince Seokjin, who stood at the end of the hall. Since the last time you saw him nearly a year ago, he still looked as handsome as ever. He was smiling at his father when the two of you entered, but when his gaze turned to you, you swore his smile grew bigger; brighter even. Keeping your eyes forward, you could feel Seokjin’s gaze on you, not wavering as you got closer.

Next to him, the King let out a loud belly laugh as the two of you approached him. “Ah, Clast! It’s good to see you, my boy.” He bellowed out as you and your sister stopped in front of him.

“It’s good to see you too, Your Majesty.” You responded as you and your sister bowed respectively before him, all the while you could feel the prince’s burning stare. “May I introduce my sister, the Lady Jia.” With her introduction, she curtsied again before the two royals.

“It’s a pleasure, Your Majesty.” She smiled as she rose up.

“The pleasure is all mine. I assume you know my son, Seokjin.” He gestured to his right to where the prince stood, silently staring at you. “Seokjin!” His father hissed, catching his attention.

His head jerked to attention at his name being called. “Sorry, yes. It’s lovely to see you again Clast- and meet you too, of course, Lady Jia.” He stumbled over his words as he bowed his head. “Apologies, my mind has been elsewhere.”

“It’s no worries, Your Highness.” You waved off his slip.

“Anyways!” The King clasped his hands together. “The two of you must be tired from your journey, the steward shall show you to your chambers.” He gestured to the same sourface Steward stepped forward. “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow night, Clast.”

“I can’t wait, Your Majesty.” You returned the king’s sentiments as you and your sister were led out of the hall, still feeling the prince’s stare seer into your back as you walked further and further away from the Grand Hall.

Soon as the Grand Hall was far behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. Had seeing Seokjin again affected you this much? While you had managed pretty fine to hold yourself together for that meeting, how on Earth were you going to manage the ball where he had to choose a wife? You couldn’t avoid him, there’s no doubt he’d want to catch up after not seeing you at all the past year. God, you felt like a fool for coming and thinking you’d be able to push your feelings out of the way. But your mother and sister jumped at the chance for the possibility of marrying the prince. Thus, you had no choice but to accompany your sister to the palace.

As the Steward led you down the winding hallways, you noticed that the hallways started to become more and more familiar. Considering you had dreamt of these hallways mere hours ago, it wasn’t that hard to place them from your memory. The King had set aside certain rooms for your family when you visited, you can’t say you were surprised or not about them still being set aside for you. Perhaps it was to still honor your father, or keep the good relationship between your families. However you were surprised to see the Steward stop in front of the heavy oak door of the room that was once your father’s.

“Your Grace shall be staying here,” he announced as he opened the door. You stepped through the threshold, inhaling deeply as you glanced around the space. Your trunk was at the foot of the bed. The same bed he slept in, the same desk he worked at, the same books he read on the shelves. What felt stranger how despite the room not being occupied in years, it still held the same scent of leather bound books and ink. The scent of your father. “I hope the chamber is to your liking.” The Steward’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Yes, it’s fine. Thank you.”

“Very well, if the Lady Jia could please follow me.” With that, he shut the door. The distinct steps of him and your sister fade away down the hall as he escorted her away.

Now alone, realization began to creep over you. When the invitation to the prince’s ball arrived you didn’t want it to be true. In fact, you almost pushed it so far back in your mind you nearly tricked yourself into believing it was just a bad dream. One that you’d wake up from any moment now. But now that you were finally there at the palace, a mere day away from the event. You were going to be sick.

The sick knot in your stomach didn’t leave you the rest of the day, despite your best attempts at any distraction. You tried to keep ahead on some of the needs and resources of your providence, read a few chapters of a book you pulled from one of the shelves, changed out of your traveling clothes, anything to keep your mind off the inevitable ball tomorrow night yet nothing seemed to succeed.

By the time the sun had fallen below the horizon, you still felt the overwhelming dread. So much so that you barely ate the dinner that was privately presented to you, barely being able to get more than a few bites down. In the midst of picking at your meat, there was a knock on your door. Curious as to who would be here so late in the evening, you unlatched the door to see Prince Seokjin standing before you.

“Y-Your Highness,” you stuttered out, not expecting him at such an hour.

“Are we really referring to each other as titles? I thought we knew each other better than that, Y/N.” He said with a breathy laugh.

The sound of his voice speaking your name was music to your ears. Loving the way each syllable fell off his lips, before you could stare at his mouth any longer than you probably already were, you cleared your throat. “Seokjin,” his face lit up when you called him by his name, “what are you doing here?”

“I thought we could catch up a bit? Seeing how we weren’t able to properly when you first arrived.” He shrugged, as if the plans were obvious.

You hesitated a bit, seeing the late hour and if this would even do your heart any good considering you had 24 hours to attempt to get over him.

“If you don’t want to, I understand.” He added, filling the silence you had provided. “It’s late, and you had a long journey. I’ll let you rest.” He began to turn, disappointment evident on his face.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, your hand wrapping around his wrist. When you realized how brash your action was, you released him, silently cursing yourself. “We can catch up, if that is what you wish.”

A smile grew on his face. “Of course! You still like stars, correct?”

You were taken back by his question. While you still had the fascination with stars, you had very little time nowadays to look at them. In fact the last time you even had time to look at stars was the night from your dream, when the prince laid down next to you in the castle gardens. Since that night, you’ve been too exhausted to stay up late enough to examine the night sky. “Yes?”

“Brilliant! Follow me,” he grabbed your hand and whisked you down the hallway, barely giving you enough time to shut your door. Seokjin led you through the passages, only the moonlight shining through the windows to guide you. Your heart was going to beat out of your chest, with your hand snug in his grasp.

He led you up a large door. With his free hand, Seokjin opened it, exposing a staircase before you. As the two of you started to climb up, you were beginning to recognize where you were going. “Are we-?”

“Shh! We’re almost there!” He shushed you as you arrived at the top of the stairs, revealing the observatory to you. You’re in absolute awe of the room, the large windows making up the walls and ceilings; the moon fully illuminating your surroundings. “Over here!” Seokjin tugged you towards the direction of one of the windows, a telescope set up and ready for use.

You pulled your hand from his grasp and let your hands trace over the cool brass, enthralled with the device before you. When the two of you were boys, you weren’t allowed in the tower observatory in fear that you might break something. When you got older, you’d only been in there once before, but never beneath a clear night sky.

A rush of chill air hit your body, you looked up to see the prince had opened up a window, giving more room for the telescope. “Take a look!” He stepped away from the device, making space for you.

Leaning down, you peered into the eyepiece. A gasp escaped your lips as you took in the brilliance of the stars right before your very eyes. You could pinpoint a few of the constellations you remember reading about. But instead of the fuzzy dots you were so used to seeing, you saw them clearly; they seemed even brighter. “Wow, Seokjin, I. . .” you straightened to look at him, who looked very pleased with himself, “I don’t know what to say? This is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in years.” That was partially a lie. He was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life, nothing could top him.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a sly smile. “I got it recently and I thought of you.”

“You. . . thought of me?” Your heart fluttered at the thought.

“Of course, Y/N.” He took a step closer to you, “I always think of you.” His words were soft as he gently raised his hand to your face, brushing a few stray hairs from your eyes. Your breath hitched as the tips of his fingers grazed over your skin. Meeting his eyes, you noticed for a split second that his gaze flickered down to your mouth. Then he slowly began to lean towards you. Your feet turned to stone, you couldn’t move as he got closer and closer to you. You weren’t sure what was happening. It couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream. Your mind was racing at a million thoughts a second, as Seokjin got closer and closer. Just about when the prince’s lips seemed to hover over your own-

DONG

The sound of a clock chimed loudly in the observatory, shattering the moment and bringing you back to reality. Immediately, you stepped away from Seokjin, your face burning hot. “It’s late. I- I need to get to bed.” You turned away from him, embarrassed at what had just happened.

“Right.” There was a twinge of dismay in his voice as he spoke. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“That won’t be necessary!” You cringed at how quickly you rejected his offer. “It’s late, and your chambers are farther than mine. Goodnight, Your Highness.” You bowed your head then rapidly made your way back down the stairs, barely hearing the prince’s ‘Goodnight’ in return.

The following morning you did not want to get out of bed. You did not- could not face the prince again after last night. What happened had to have been a dream, it had to be. But the clear memory of the stars, how you could vividly recall the way your hand fit into his all proved you otherwise. It actually happened, and you couldn’t help but feel humiliated. He was getting married soon, for God Sake! And it couldn’t be you. It will never be you.

Eventually had to get up. Dressing yourself up a bit, but you remained in your room. Deciding to read and work on any paperwork, distracting yourself from even thinking about Seokjin.

You managed to do so quite nicely up until the hours before the ball was to start. Outside your window, spotting the hustling of all the castle staff trying to finish up the last of the preparations, scrambling to get them done. However all the chaos from outside the window and outside your door pulled you from your progress of not thinking of the prince or the party. All throughout the halls, people were gossipping about the prince and which lady he would choose as his possible wife.

When the clock struck the hour, signalling that the ball was to start, you knocked on the door to your sister’s chambers. “If that’s you Y/N, I’m nearly ready. You can come in!” She called from the inside. With a roll of your eyes, you pushed open the door to see your sister sitting in front of a vanity, a maid-servant finishing up her hair. Looking at you through the mirror, Jia lips quirked up into a smile. “Why don’t you look handsome, Brother.”

You take a quick glance at yourself behind her; you’re dressed only more elevated than usual. Fresh pair of trousers and shoes on, your waistcoat buttoned neatly, and your hair is more styled. Other than that, you look practically the same as you would on any other day. Not wanting to argue with your sister, you merely bowed your head in thanks.

“What do you think of the dress?” Jia asked as the maid finished with her hair, she stood to reveal the full picture. The style of the dress was similar to something she had worn to your ascension, yet this was light blue in color. There was no grand design amongst the dress, it was simple and fitting.

“You look lovely,” you responded.

“Thank you. You said he liked blue, correct?” She questioned as she began to slip on her gloves.

“Pardon?”

“The prince? His favorite color is blue?” She clarified as she walked over to you. “Honestly, Y/N, where is your head? I’m trying to gain his favor. Helps that I have his best friend as a brother.” She chortled as she linked arms with you.

“Right, yes. He favors blue.” You muttered as you turned towards the door. “Right, well, let’s get going. Don’t want to be late.” You forced a cheerful tone. With that, your sister smiled at you and you began to make your way towards the ballroom.

Already you saw lines of fabulously dressed noble women and royals from across the seven kingdoms, all willing to try and win Prince Seokjin’s affections. You saw a few familiar faces as you escorted your sister about the room; friends of your late father, fellow dukes and viscounts, even a couple visiting princes. All of which were either here to escort the most eligible woman in their family or merely showing support for the prince’s birthday.

About an hour in, Jia excused herself to try and gain a dance with the prince, leaving you standing alone at the sidelines; watching Seokjin dance with lady after lady after lady. He was a talented dancer, dancing gracefully with each partner. With each dance, you couldn’t help but notice a disinterested look grow on his face. A few times when you thought he caught your eye, you spotted a glimmer in his eye. A spark of happiness that managed to peak through his facade. But when he turned, causing his partner to face you. You saw a proud smirk on their face, as if they were the ones that made him perk up.

“Clast? Is that you?” A familiar voice called out to you. Turning your head to follow the voice, you spotted the owner of the voice. Prince Yoongi of Lun was making his way towards you, pushing his way through the crowd. “It’s good to see you.” He held his hand out for you to shake.

With a smile, you took it. “Good to see you too, Your Highness. How are things?”

“Good, everything is good. You’re here on behalf of your sister, I suppose?” He asked as his hand retreated.

The mention of your sister had your chest aching, reminding you of the entire situation once again. “Y-yes. She is somewhere in the crowd, waiting her turn.” Hopeful that he didn’t catch on to your hesitation; you gestured over to the dance floor, as if you couldn’t see her waiting at the front of it.

It was clear that he had noticed it, yet he didn’t point it out, only saying “I see.” He turned to face the crowd next to you, standing in silence as the band played on. “Have you married yet, Clast?” He questioned.

“No, h-haven’t had the time.” Your basic response to whenever anyone questioned your marital status, a normal question made by men wanting to set you up with their daughters. Why would Yoongi be asking you that though, you thought to yourself, unless he was thinking about asking to set you up with someone? But that couldn’t be, as you don’t recall him having any female relatives.

“Not having the time. . .” He repeated, laughing softly to himself. “Surely you’ve had enough time, attending balls like this? You’re a young man with a title, young ladies and their mothers must be crawling over you.” He further inquired.

“Well, yes. . .” you struggled to rack your mind for a plausible excuse. He was for the most part correct, parties like this usually had young eligible noble women practically throwing themselves on to you. But upon your excuse, they usually backed away. Not further question you. “It’s just-uh-”

Before you managed to come up with a concrete answer, Yoongi spoke again. “You don’t need to answer that. But to a degree, I can understand you.”

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t think I follow?”

“You’re in love, are you not?” He turned his head to you, a knowing expression. You opened your mouth to deny it, but no words came out. “It’s clear as day. But for some reason, you cannot be with them. Yet you long to be.” His face seemed to fall a bit at his words and he turned to face the crowd again. “Believe me, you’re not alone in that sort of suffering.” His gaze fixated on a young male servant, who stood at the edge of the ballroom, tray in hand. For a fraction of a second, you saw a soft smile across his face. But soon as the smile was there, it was gone. “Take my advice, don’t let him get away.” He gave your shoulder a firm pat before he walked back into the crowd, not permitting a response from you.

Glancing back to the center of the dance floor, you made eye contact with Seokjin. This time there was no denying it. He beamed at you and suddenly all the people in the room seemed to fade away, like it was only the two of you. He was radiant in the light of the ballroom, his smile radiating happiness. Yoongi was right, you were in love with the prince and you wanted nothing more than to be by his side.

With his advice echoing in your mind, you moved to take a step forward but your legs felt like lead. All at once, the golden glow of the ballroom faded to grey; the prince’s bright light dimmed, dark shadows danced at the edge of your vision. You could feel all of the court staring at you, whispering amongst themselves. Jia’s eyes were locked on you, fire burning in them The King frowned in disapproval. There were too many eyes on you. Your heartbeat was in your ears, throbbing against your skull. At the center of it all, Seokjin stood out in the crowd, his features twisted with concern. He mouthed something to you, something you couldn’t make out. You took a step backward, it felt easier than moving forward. You took another, and another, until you turned on your feet and dashed out of the ballroom.

Air, you needed air. Quickly, you weaved your way through the busy hallways until you found the door to the garden terrace. Thankfully, no one from the party seemed to have come outside as of recently, leaving you alone. You let your hands rest upon the stone railing as you caught your breath, the cool night air filling your lungs. Raising your head up, you stare up at the sky, the moon staring back down at you.

“You alright?” Whipping around, you saw Seokjin standing in front of you, the light of the open door behind him giving him a golden halo. “Y/N?”

You turned back around, staring back out into the gardens. “I’m fine.”

His steps against the stone echoed, only stopping once he was practically right behind you. “Don’t lie to me, what happened?”

You barely understood what had happened. One moment you were filled with confidence, ready to pull him to the side to speak with him. Then the next you felt nothing but shame. The judgement of the court, your sister, the king. You couldn’t tell him. Yoongi had sweet sentiment, but it just couldn’t be. He was the prince! And you were a duke. A man. You wouldn’t even be able to openly tell him you love him, let alone marry him! “I needed some air.”

“I could use some too, it was getting stuffy in there.” He responded as he continued to stand behind you. “Come on. We could both use a little break from the excitement.” You didn’t move, it was a bad idea to go with him. Just return to the party and move on. “Y/N. . ?”

Despite your better judgment, you turned to face him. His beautiful smile grew once you faced him. “Lead the way.”

He led you down the stairs of the terrace and into the gardens. Neither of you said anything, letting the music of the ball fade away into the sounds of the night. The further you walked away from the palace, the less concerned you found yourself about if the people were going to come looking for you. It was only you and Seokjin now.

He took a turn off the path, walking over the lawn towards the roses. Spotting a stone bench, he seated himself, you continued standing beside him. “You can sit, Y/N.” He gestured to the spot beside him. You hesitated for a moment before finally sitting down next to him. His knees brushed against yours as you both stared out over the gardens. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” He asked after a moment.

“Nothing is bothering me.”

“Y/N, I know you better than you know yourself.” Repeating the very same words he said nearly 7 years ago. “What’s the matter?”

Taking a deep breath, you answered. “You’re getting married.”

Seokjin frowned at your admission. “What on Earth gave you that idea?”

It was your turn to be confused. “Your father? On the invitations, it was a call that you’d be picking your future bride at this very ball.” You explained.

“Believe me when I say this Y/N,” he took your hands in his, “I have no intentions of picking a bride tonight nor ever.”

Those last few words echoed around in your brian. “Ever?”

“I can’t be with someone who I don’t love,” he said as if it were obvious. “When I become king, the only person I want by my side is you.”

Your hands grew clammy as your heart pounded against your ribs. “Seokjin, what are you saying?”

“Is it not obvious?” His hands moved to cup your face. When you met his eyes, the poor attempt at a wall that you tried to build over your heart broke away.

“I need to hear you say it,” your voice faltered, barely above a whisper.

Leaning in closer, his breath fanned over your lips. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for barely a moment before you closed the gap between you two. Your eyes fell shut and the entire world melted away, leaving only you and Seokjin being the only sole beings in that moment. And oh how you wanted to live in that moment forever. To know nothing else but the feel of his lips against yours, the sweet scent of the roses around you, the brisk air of the night tickling any exposed skin as you clung to each other.

You don’t know when but tears had begun to roll over your cheeks. The wetness passed over your lips, tasting of salt as you continued to kiss. The slight bitter taste had him pulling away, eliciting a whine to fall from you. He couldn’t leave now, not after how long you’ve dreamt of this moment! Opening your eyes, the blurry outline of Seokjin was whipping away your tears. Blinking the rest of them away, the clear image of him filled your mind, taking notes of any little detail. You had to remember this moment for the rest of your life.

“Why are you crying?” His voice was soft as his thumb caressed your tear stained face.

“Truthfully, I don’t know.” You responded, the last coming out in a sort of chuckle. Baffled at your own emotions.

“No more tears, love.” He brought his lips to your forehead, pressing a small kiss to it. “No more tears.”

Despite you nodding in agreeance, more tears fell from your eyes. Whether it be tears of relief or joy, you couldn’t stop them from flowing. Placing one of your hands over his, you leaned into his touch, kissing his palm. You opened your mouth but you could even manage to get a word out, a shout was heard.

“Prince Seokjin! Your Highness? Where are you?” An unfamiliar male voice called out.

Within a second, you pulled yourself away from him, fearful of being caught. Seokjin closed his eyes, letting out a huff, clearly upset with the interruption. “It appears our company has been missed.” He sighed as he stood up, straightening his overcoat. “I’m here! Clast and I were merely stepping away for a moment.”

The servant appeared around the corner; with the cover of the night, you doubt he saw you kissing, but you couldn’t be sure until he spoke again. “The King is calling for you, sir. He wants you to dance with the Princess of Maldonia.”

“Thank you, I’ll be with him right away.” Seokjin gave him a tight smile as he dismissed the servant, who promptly bowed and scurried back towards the party. “I’m sorry.” He sat back down, taking one of your hands in his.

“No, it’s not your fault.”

“But there’s so much we need to discuss-”

“Seokjin,” you squeezed his hand, “we’ll figure it out.”

With a smile on his lips, he kissed you one last time before standing again. The two of you walked hand in hand back towards the castle again. He stopped when you reached the stairs to the terrace. “I’ll send a letter to your room later tonight, I would stop by but I fear my father isn’t going to be happy with hearing me not choosing a bride.” He chuckled, looking down at your still linked fingers.

You laughed with him, before falling silent. The music of the party reminded you that you couldn’t remain there forever. “You need to go.” Seokjin didn’t move yet, still staring down at your hands, trying his damnedest to turn a single moment into a thousand.

“Not yet.”

Unfortunately, as soon as the words left his mouth the servant stepped out onto the terrace, forcing him to drop your hand. “Your Highness, the King is growing impatient.”

With a sigh, he made his way up the stairs. Once he reached the top, he looked back down at you. His smile was back on, glowing and beautiful, yet his eyes were pained as he spoke. “Good talk, Clast. Enjoy the rest of the party.” Then he turned toward the servant, following him back into the brightly lit hallways of the castle.

The rest of the party went by in a blur. When you returned to the ballroom, your sister came up to you and complained about how she didn’t get a chance to dance with Seokjin before he started dancing with the Princess of Maldonia. Whatever she said you didn’t hear, because you were too busy looking for the prince but he was nowhere to be found. The only prince you did make eye contact with was Prince Yoongi, who was standing across the hall, a knowing look on his face.

By the time the party was over and you had returned to your room, you were anxious to wait for Seokjin’s letter. You couldn’t help but think about what it might contain. Plans for the future? His feelings about you? You stayed up waiting for a servant to knock or perhaps it would slide beneath the door.

Yet nothing arrived.

You waited until the rays of the sun peeked over the horizon, but nothing came. Laying down on your bed, you felt a knot grow deep in your stomach. You thought of a million scenarios as to why. Perhaps by the time he talked with his father he fell asleep soon as he reached his room, or maybe he fell asleep writing it. You tried to be reasonable with your thoughts, but your mid went to darker places as you laid there. Did his father get mad at him for not wanting to choose someone and throw him in the dungeon? Were you spotted and he was getting punished? Would they come for you next? Or what you thought could be even worse, did he regret his confession?

It was 10 o’clock when a servant came to wake you, finding you red eyed and exhausted. He was clearly shocked by your current state, as you could see by his face, but he said nothing on it. “Your sister is nearly ready to go, Your Grace.”

“I’ll be ready in a moment,” you grumbled as you pulled yourself out of the bed. The servant bowed before he left, probably to get your carriage ready. One half of you wanted to get ready as fast as possible, leave the castle and never return. You’d hide away in Clast Manor forever. But the other half wanted to stay, find Seokjin and demand an answer as to why nothing came.

Once you were dressed and reorganizing your belongings into your trunk, there was a knock, followed by Jia throwing the door to your chambers open; quickly followed by some footmen.

“You were apprehensive to come and now you’re stalling to leave?” She raised a brow at your still open trunk.

“Had a lot on my mind, I apologize.” You dryly apologized as the servants shut your case and began carrying it out of the room. Your answer didn’t seem to satisfy her, as she rolled her eyes at you. “Let’s get going then,” you held out your arm for her to take. With a huff, she linked arms with you. The two of you walked in silence as your steps echoed in the halls.

As you turned towards the staircase that would lead you towards the entry hall, you heard your name called out. Turning, you spotted Seokjin running towards you. Glancing at your sister, she looked confused as the prince was making quite a hurry to get to you.

“Go wait by the carriage,” you told her, kissing her cheek. “I promise I’ll join you soon.”

“You better, or else I’m leaving without you.” She muttered as she started down the stairs, the footmen following behind her.

You watched her descend as Seokjin arrived behind you; putting on a brave face, you faced him. He looked nearly as tired as you were, yet somehow he managed to make dark circles under his eyes attractive. Opening your mouth to say something, he pulled you off to the side of the hall, hiding behind a larger planter.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to deliver it sooner,” he huffed out as he placed a sealed parchment in your hand.

“I-” you were stunned, for a moment you truly thought he might’ve regretted what happened last night. Yet here he was, parchment in hand. “Why? What took you so long?

“I uh- Well. . . you’ll know in the letter.” He waved your question away before taking both of your hands in his. “Promise me you’ll write as soon as possible? Please?”

You stared down at your joined hands, and all the hurt feelings from the night bubbled up to the surface again. The anxiety, fear, betrayal. It all came rushing back, but as you looked up to speak your mind, your words died in your throat. His pleading eyes bored into yours and butterflies erupted in your stomach. Sucking in a breath, you nodded. “I promise.”

Seokjin looked like he was going to cry as he heard your words, pulling you into his arms. You attempted to resist for a moment before melting into his embrace; wishing you didn’t have to leave so soon. Wishing you had more time to talk. His lips grazed over the shell of your ear, his breath fanned against your skin as he hesitated for a moment. He said nothing as he pressed a kiss then he pulled away. He gave you one last fleeting smile before he ran back down the hall, disappearing behind a corner.

Stuffing the letter into your pocket, you made your way down the stairs. As you approached the bottom, you came across the King as he was bidding some of his guests goodbye. Despite how badly you wished to leave as soon as possible, you couldn’t risk not saying goodbye to your host.

“Ah, there you are Clast! I hope you enjoyed the ball!” He said as he shook your hand tightly.

“It was a wonderful party, Your Majesty. Thank you for the invitation.”

“But of course! I hope you can come around again for the wedding!” He patted your hand as he let go.

“W-wedding, Your Majesty?” You questioned as he turned to the person behind you.

“Goodbye, Clast. Have a pleasant trip home!” Either he didn’t hear you or he was purposefully ignoring the question. Whichever it was, your head felt like it was spinning as you exited the palace doors.

You spotted your carriage not far from the base of the steps, Jia looking thoroughly annoyed in the window as she waited for you. Carefully as you could, you made a beeline for the door. You didn’t even give a footman enough time to step down and open the door for you, just throwing it open and clambering in.

“Your Grace-?”

“Just go!” You snapped, waving your hand to signal for the coach to get moving. Seokjin’s letter burned through your clothes, you wanted nothing more than to rip it open and find out for yourself what the King meant by a wedding and what his explanation was. But with Jia sitting across from you, who was eyeing you like a caged animal, you had to wait till you returned home.

The journey to Philos was a long drag you will admit, but the return to Clast Manor felt like ages in comparison. Jia must’ve sensed your agitation as she said nothing the entire way back, not even a word when you stopped for supper at an inn a quarter through the way home. Soon as you arrived back at the manor, you took off towards your bedroom, not even bothering to greet your mother or other siblings. You could hear the murmurings of your family as you clambered up the staircase.

Once behind the safety of your locked chambers, you lit an oil lamp and pulled Seokjin’s letter out from your coat pocket. Your fingers traced over the seal of the prince, staring at the blue wax for a moment. The seal should’ve settled your anxiety yet it continued to bubble deep in your stomach. Breaking open the wax, you unfolded the paper to read what explanation Seokjin might have.

My dearest, Y/N

I’m sorry for such a delay, but I have unfortunate news. Apparently the ball was merely a facade of choice for me, Father has gone behind my back and arranged a marriage between the Maldonian Princess and myself in a fortnight. Upon my refusal, he locked me away in my room and won’t let me out until I agree to the union. With you waiting and about to leave in the morning, I have no other choice but to say yes. By the time you have read this, I will be engaged.

So there was your explanation of the wedding, the King was referencing. Your heart ached at the words, hating the news, but you read on.

I’ve devised a plan though, a plan for you and me to flee Philos and live together far away. Where no one can ever find us ever again. My title shall go to my cousin Hoseok, he shall rule Philos instead of I. Remember all those games and stories we made up where we didn’t have to be king or duke? Those dreams can become our reality! I know it sounds insane, but I’m ready and willing to do it.

For you.

Write back to me as soon as you can and we can begin our plot.

Until I see you again,

Seokjin

Your vision blurred as tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall onto the parchment. Not daring to drop the precious letter, you ran over to your desk and scrambled for fresh parchment. You were soaring above the clouds as you seated yourself down, reading your pen and ink. You held nothing back as you accepted his proposal to run away, ready and willing at any moment he proposed. You didn’t care about the ink droplets that fell or any scribbles of words you misspelled. All that mattered was you sent the letter off at first light.

Without even thinking, you heated up the blue ink your mother had not so subtly been purchasing for you, in hopes you’d find yourself a lover or a wife anytime soon. Pressing your personal seal into the hot wax, you officialized your promise to Seokjin.

Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the exhaustion of not sleeping at all the night before slowly caught up on you, barely giving you enough time to even properly undress before you collapsed onto your bed. That night you dreamt of your new life with Seokjin. The two of you so far away from anyone you might know, living in a cottage at the edge of the woods, perhaps selling bread to a nearby village. The both of you together, completely happy.

When you woke up the following morning, rushing down to a messenger to send off your letter to Philos at once. Despite the confusion of you just being there, the messenger followed the order and rode off fast as he could. The rest of the day you were in a chipper attitude, something your family was a bit surprised at considering the grim demeanor you held leaving the manor and arriving back last night.

However the happy attitude could last so long.

It should only take a day or two for the prince to respond to your correspondence, but when your messenger arrived back empty handed, you felt the familiar flood of anxiety rush through you again. You dismissed it though, perhaps he’s following through with his father and visiting Maldonia for some reason or other. Waiting a few more days, yet nothing arrived. You crafted another letter and sent it off with a different messenger that night. The only thing that returned was a wedding invitation.

You dropped the letter off in the parlor where your family were all visibly excited about a wedding. The only one sharing your glum mood of the announcement was Jia, who was mourning the loss of such a match. You didn’t even bother telling her it wouldn’t have worked out anyways, just sitting in silence as your littlest sister talked about how pretty a royal wedding was going to be.

The day of the wedding your mother all but dragged you out of bed to go, not even giving you a moment to even feign sickness.

“You must go in support of your future king and friend! I won’t have you wasting away all the work your father did for us to continue to be close friends of the royal family.” She scolded you, throwing wear onto your bed. With your younger siblings staying behind; you, Jia, your mother, and your other brother all got into the carriage and started off towards the capitol.

The city was decorated with ribbons and flowers as crowds of people lined up along the streets, waiting for a chance to get a glimpse at the royals and nobles arriving. You wished to be home at the manor, a nearby kingdom, just anywhere but have the man who broke your heart and made a fool of you stand in front of you and get married.

Exiting the carriage, you joined the line of the court to be escorted into the Grand Hall. With your mother on your arm, she pointed out the things that have changed since her last visit, but her chittering fell on deaf ears, you simply stared off into the distance as the entrance to the Grand Hall grew closer and closer. By the time you had arrived at the threshold, you were greeted by the king.

“Ah, Duke and Dowager Duchess of Clast, lovely to see you both.” The King greeted you as you both bowed before him. Taking your mother’s hand, he pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “And you’re looking wonderful, Dowager.”

“Oh thank you, Your Majesty. You’re too kind,” she giggled, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the scene.

“Clast, I'm glad you could make it.” He shook your hand next, “Seokjin has been. . . anxious to hear from you. He’d be so happy to see you’re here.” His grip on your hand tightened as his words began to register with you.

“Wait-”

“Enjoy the wedding,” he released your hand and moved on to the next guest. Your mother pulled you and your siblings in the direction of the pews. The voices of all the people echoing against the walls became muffled as you were seated down in the front of the hall, right in front of the altar. Thoughts were rushing through your mind faster than you could think of them.

Does that mean Seokjin didn’t purposefully not respond? Did he even receive your letters? Did his father know? How did his father know? You had to find Seokjin, perhaps you could come up with some sort of plan and you could still run away together after the wedding. You just had to find him-

The sound of a horn silenced the Grand Hall, everyone falling quiet as they stood and watched the Crown Prince walk down the aisle. The breath was sucked out of your lungs as he walked past you. He looked absolutely regal in his royal wear, his crown placed perfectly on his head, he looked every bit of the prince he was. The only give away there was to his true mood was his eyes; there were dark circles under his eyes, deeper than they were the last time you saw him. When he stopped at the altar, he turned, his eyes surveyed across the court.

His eyes met yours and his gaze sharpened. You felt all the hurt and pain you’ve been feeling returned to you tenfold in that moment alone. You wanted to run to him, scream and cry out for him. Tell him that you did write back, that you did want to run away with him, but you were frozen in your place.

When the music started up again, his eyes snapped to the aisle to watch his bride. He remained focused on the Maldonian Princess standing in front of him. The entire ceremony your eyes never left Seokjin, silently begging- pleading for him to turn and look at you.

But he never did.

#btsghostie #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #kim seokjin fluff #bts angst #kim seokjin angst #bts royalty au #prince seokjin #bts x male reader #kim seokjin x male reader #male reader #kim seokjin fanfic #prince seokjin x reader #bts prince au

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bigfan-fanfic · 3 years ago

Note

I’m curious. Of all the men you write for, which one, or ones, would you most want to be with in real life?

Oof, that's a good one! Okay, while I find most of the guys I write for hot, here's the ones on my dateable irl list. If I missed anyone, y'all can ask and I'll rate! ;)

I've bolded and colored in the 10/10s because it's a long list and you might wanna just cut to the chase

Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) - jk, I can't deal with the Jedi and their hypocrisy. But damnnnnn Ewan McGregor is FINE and Obi-Wan is such a charmer. - N/A

Benny Lafitte (Supernatural) - Hot buff vampire with a killer smile? Would protect me through anything? Not unhealthily codependent with his brother? Yes please. - 6/10 Would Date

Professor Kukui (Pokemon) - Yes please. Happy-go-lucky scientist who moonlights as a wrestler and has the body too? Yay. -9/10 Would Date - gotta dock him for being happily married. Damn. - N/A.

Link (The Legend of Zelda) - My first fictional husband. Yes to the sense of humor, the protectiveness, the love! Although a little bit quiet, poor lad. - 7/10 Would Date

Prince Sidon (The Legend of Zelda) - Look, I'm no monsterfucker, but Prince Sidon believes in me. You think I'm not gonna fall for that kind of validation??? - 10/10 Would Date.

Peeta Mellark (The Hunger Games) - Yay for cute soft baker man. I love him and want to protecc. But trauma plus his huge torch for Katniss is gonna make it tough. - 6/10 would date.

Markus (Detroit Become Human) - Handsome and just utterly noble and awesome. Parkouring genius and artist while being just unbelievably rational and emotional all at once. I love him. This android has stolen my heart. - 10/10 Would Date

Hank Anderson - Just kidding. Trying to see if y'all were paying attention

Nathan Drake (Uncharted) - Snarky adventure husband gets all the support for me. Just come home alive, ready for snuggles, and bring home the treasure bacon! Love you, babe. - 9/10 Would Date

Soren (The Dragon Prince) - I love this man. I love his relationship with his sister. I love his nobility and honor even when it's hard. I even love his terrible poetry. most of all, I feel you, man. I want a bread sandwich too. That dad, though. Ugh. - 7/10 Would Date

Gren (The Dragon Prince) - Yayyyyy. Gren, my positive pumpkin man. I love your freckles and cheer and the way you know sign language. Protect me and give kisses! - 9/10 Would Date

Chrom (Fire Emblem) - Adorkable prince of Ylisse, why wouldn't you let my male Robin romance you? You've got a cute personality, you're sweet and clumsy, and you've got that one arm all bared for flexin'! Yum. Pack that up and give me two! - 8/10 Would Date

Odin/Owain (Fire Emblem) - This drama queen is a storyteller and a bisexual mess if I ever saw one, and I am HERE for it. I will pretend with you all day, Odin. Teach me magic and tell me of your undying love for me in as flowery language as you want! - 9/10 Would Date

Alistair Theirin (Dragon Age) - Best man in Thedas right here. I love him. I love his dorkiness. I love that he's not afraid to admit he'd rather someone else lead. I love how he's so young but not afraid to take up a cause he believes in. Total king. Will marry. - 10/10 Would Date

Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson) - Those of you who know me might think Percy's too much of a goofball and a dope. Well, you're wrong. I love Percy and I will gladly be his escape from all things mythological while also knowing enough about Greek myth to help him out - 7.5/10 Would Date

Jason Grace (Percy Jackson) - Okay, bud. Jason can be a little bland, I admit. But I still love him for his perseverance and dedication to his friends. I'd love to get to know him better. - 7/10 Would Date

Sokka (ATLA) - Okay, he grew on me after a while and now I love. Let's talk strategy, Sokka. Let me laugh at your horrible jokes - 6/10 Would Date

Haru (ATLA) - I hate the mustache but I love the man behind it - 7/10 Would Date

Hakoda (ATLA) - Mmmm. Sokka and Katara's dad was a SNACK. - 8/10 Would Date

Bolin (LOK) - This himbo was a cutie and I'm lying if I ever say I didn't enjoy seeing him in the Nuktuk costume. Or ripping his sleeves off. Or kidnapped by the Equalists. Just yay, Bolin, and as a bonus, Pabu! - 10/10 Would Date

Tonraq (LOK) - If Hakoda was a snack, Tonraq is a full course meal - look at the size of the man. MMMMM I love him. Waterbender and all around HUNK. And so caring! - 10/10 Would Date and I'm not even gonna dock him for being happily married to Korra's mom

Thor (Marvel) - Chris Hemsworth with long hair and ultimate himbo personality. Nuff said. 10/10 Would Date

Peter Parker (Marvel) - I love this nerd. 10/10 Would... not date because the people Peter Parker dates have a curious trend of dying horribly. Looking at you Gwen Stacy. I like my neck the way it is, so... sorry, Pete.

Pietro Maximoff (Marvel) - We didn't get enough time with this speedy snack. I like his charm and confidence and care for his sister. I wish he'd have at least gotten a real shirtless scene before he died. 8/10 Would Resurrect and Date

Bucky Barnes (Marvel) - Much like Peeta, the trauma is gonna be hard to help with, but I'm willing to make it work. 6.5/10 Would Date

Dick Grayson (DC) - Yes please. Positive, outgoing, friendly, but above all deeply caring and sweet. He's acrobatic and fun, but I feel like he'd love to just relax at home. - 9/10 Would Date

Barry Allen (DC) - Ball of sunshine in nerdy human form. I don't know what more anyone would want in a boyfriend. - 8/10 Would Date

Kyle Rayner (DC) - Admittedly, I don't know all that much about Kyle. But he seems chill and cool and way better than all the other Green Lanterns besides Alan Scott because initially he wasn't affiliated with the Corps so he wasn't a Space Cop. - 7/10 Would Date

Clark Kent (DC) - He's just.... super. And sweet. Yay. 10/10 Would Date

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maryeve-the-bitch · 3 years ago

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Un jour de février

Fruk week 2021

Day 4: winter / spring

Words: 2,565

Summary: Domestic fruk. Old married couple vibe. The couple is visiting Matthew in Quebec city during the cold month of february.

Warning: French, so much french (Translations are at the end), and mention of sex. Not really explicit though.

Francis couldn’t wait to visit his son in february. However, he was dreading the cold and the weather he would face when they’d arrive in the city. He wasn’t used to that kind of cold anymore ergo he knew how much he would suffer through it. At least, he would be in good company and his boyfriend Arthur was coming as well.

As soon as Francis and Arthur landed in Quebec city, they traveled straight to their hotel since Mathieu would only be coming the next day and his meeting in the capital got delayed. Hopefully, Francis would enjoy a nice evening with his dear Arthur. The hotel room they picked had a cozy fireplace with a plaid fluffy blanket laid on the king bed. The decor of the room reminded Francis of a lumberjack’s cabin with deer antlers hanging down from the wall and the wood-like walls. While it wasn’t the usual style Francis would like, he did appreciate the coziness of it. He reminded himself not to let Arthur choose a hotel for them by himself again. At least, the bathroom was huge compared to what he is used to and in the middle of it, there was a bath that could easily fit 3 people in it. At the sight of the bath, Francis gave Arthur a teasing smirk as he tucked a lock of his blond hair behind his hair. Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Sure, love. Later.” Arthur agreed to his boyfriend’s silent plea.

Francis wrapped his arms around Arthur’s from behind.

“Je te promets qu’on passera un bon moment.¹” Francis whispered to his ear as he delicately bit it.

“I promise I’ll kick you in the arse if you don’t stop teasing.” Arthur said with his jaw clenched and a blush on his cheeks.

The comment made Francis chuckle and hugged his boyfriend closer.

“C’est trop facile de te taquiner."² Francis kissed Arthur’s cheek and let go of him.

Since they were both exhausted from the flight and the jetlag, they decided to go to bed early after they took a shower.

In the morning, they decided to wait for Mathieu to tell them when and where they would meet in their room after they got back from eating breakfast on the first floor. Francis looked outside the windows, contemplating the landscape from the city under the snow, as Arthur finished getting dressed and buttoned his shirt up.

“On n’a plus d’hiver comme ça par chez nous, hein?”³ Francis sighed.

“You never had winters like this before. Unless you count the ice age.” Arthur commented.

“Ouais. Du coup, c’est ben mieux que ta pluie 10 mois par année.”⁴ Francis retorted, looking back at his boyfriend.

Arthur glanced at Francis before taking his jacket from the bed and put it on.

“Tu sais que la reine vient pas aujourd’hui, hein?”⁵

“Shut your bloody mouth and get dressed, Francis.” Arthur sighed.

Francis let out a dramatic sigh as he let himself fall on the bed face first and grumbled Arthur’s name on the pillow. Arthur just rolled his eyes, ignoring his melodramatic scene as he was well too familiar with it. Francis turned around and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Peux-tu m’aider, mon amour?”⁶

“What? Help you get dressed? You’re not a child anymore.” As Arthur spoke, he received a notification from his phone that was placed on the desk and charging. He picked it up to see what it was.

“It’s Matthew. He wants to meet at the castle at noon.” Arthur paused to look at the time. “You’ve got one hour to get ready.”

“Quoi? Une heure?” Francis whined. "Ça nous donne même pas le temps de faire l'amour."⁷

"We would if you hurry the fuck up and stop whining."

Francis finally got up from the bed, not without whining even more. At the end, he did get ready in under an hour. When Francis got out of the bathroom, he paraded in front of Arthur who was sitting on the chair in front of the desk. Francis wore an open blue see-through shirt with some kind of green flower pattern on it. As for the bottom part, he wrote black trousers with the same flowery pattern.

"We're not going to a gay pub or a fashion show."

"Ah mais il faut que je sois à la hauteur de moi-même quand je sors. Je ne peux pas sortir comme si je serais un pauvre paysan. Pour qui tu me prends, putain?"⁸

"What the hell does that mean?" Arthur sighed. "You're going to wear a warm coat at least?"

Francis walked over to his suitcase and pulled out a navy blue double button wool coat and put it on.

"C'est sublime, non?”⁹ Francis turned around to show all angles of his outfit, feeling proud of it.

“Yes. You’re looking very handsome. You’re going to be cold though. Have you not brought something warmer?” Arthur put his hands on his waist.

“J’ai une écharpe qui ira bien avec. De toute façon, on restera pas trop longtemps dehors. Qui serait assez fou pour aller dehors en un temps pareil?”¹⁰ Francis replied.

“Right. Don’t say I haven’t warned you, frog face.”

Francis would probably die of humiliation if he had to wear something ugly so he’d rather die of hypothermia and being pretty than be seen wearing something hideous. The couple left their hotel room and took a cab to get to their destination. They were still a few minutes late, but nothing Arthur would mind and Mathieu was already waiting for them in front of the castle as agreed.

Upon meeting, Francis hugged Mathieu tightly since he hadn't seen him for months. Arthur greeted him politely under his giant coat that he brought to make sure he didn’t freeze to death. He wore both a winter hat and the hood of his coat with a scarf and at least 2 pairs of gloves. Since Mathieu knew both Arthur and Francis, he didn’t make a comment on how they were dressed. In his opinion, one was overdoing it and the other thought fashion was more important than warmth.

Since Mathieu was getting hungry, they went and looked for a restaurant. While Francis wasn’t hungry, he was gladly welcoming the idea of getting inside. He’s only been 2 minutes out and thought his nipples were already frozen. On their way to the restaurant, Francis tried to warm himself with his hands in his coat pockets and holding his arms close to his body, without much success.

After going down some stairs, at Francis’ displeasure, they walked down a small street that led to the restaurant. Francis remembered that street, he visited it during summer a long time ago. It changed a bit but not enough to not recognise it. He would admire the scenery if he wasn’t so goddamn cold. He just couldn't wait to get to the restaurant at last. Mathieu was explaining to Arthur the historic facts of some buildings even though Arthur already knew those facts; he just forgot. Their chatter sounded mostly background noises to Francis as his focus was mostly on his movements.

Finally, they reached the restaurant. They got seated and offered the menu to order.

“You’re awfully quiet, frog.” Arthur commented as he opened the menu. “Not complaining. That’s just unusual for you.”

Francis glared at his boyfriend. They both knew why he was quiet.

“Can you two stay civil please?” Mathieu asked. He knew his dads and their tendency to fight or argue way too well.

“Of course, lad.” Arthur replied. “I’d offer you my coat for a while, at least until you warm up, but I know too well you won’t accept it.” He continued.

“J’ai pas besoin de ta pitié. Je vais juste commander un bon café chaud et ça ira.¹¹ Francis replied.

“If you say so, love. I hope they offer good tea here.” Arthur said, dismissing Francis’s passive aggressivity.

The waitress came soon after and they all ordered their food and drinks. She took back the menus and left for the kitchen.

“You two are so different. I sometimes wonder how you are still together.” Mathieu commented.

Both Francis and Arthur looked at each other, Francis smiling lovingly.

“Cause we have great sex. That’s why.” Arthur answered Mathieu’s wonderment. He soon received a kick under the table from his partner.

“C’est vrai.”¹² Francis added.

“Please stop. I don’t want to know.” Mathieu interrupted Francis before he would add anything too explicit for him. The Frenchman chuckled while Arthur smiled. Well, at least, Mathieu succeeded to ease the situation between the two.

While they waited for their order, Francis grabbed Arthur’s hand under the table.

“Fucking hell, Francis!” Arthur exclaimed when he felt his boyfriend’s cold hand on his.

“Ah. Je suis désolé, mon amour.”¹³ Francis apologised, looking dejected.

“It’s fine. You surprised me, that’s all.” Arthur said softly as he took Francis’s hand in his.

Thankful, Francis smiled and let Arthur warm his hand. Usually, Arthur hated public displays of affection even as small as hand holding, so it overjoyed him that he accepted to do so.

They talked about Alfred the rest of the time they waited for the order. The American was quite busy at the time so he couldn't make it, but Matthew was grateful he couldn’t because he could easily bring all the attention to him. He appreciated the rare times he got alone with either of his parents. Even when Alfred wasn’t here, he got all the attention, but that was fine with Mathieu. He’d prefer that over Alfred present and talking loudly and interrupting him.

After lunch, Francis felt warmer and happier from the cup of coffee he drank and the small affection he received. His joy wouldn’t last long when Mathieu offered to walk alongside the river and the old port since they were close by. Arthur agreed to it too quickly, Francis thought.

“Et si on allait faire du shopping? Ça serait pas mal, non? Tu m’avais pas parlé d’un centre commercial avec un mini parc d'attractions à l’intérieur?”¹⁴ Francis suggested.

“Well, Matthew and I never liked shopping much and I don’t especially like theme parks either.” Arthur protested as he put his coat back on.

“Besides, there are probably too many people there already.” Mathieu added.

Francis pouted and followed the other two outside. They walked a few minutes until they reached a pedestrian path near the river. Arthur narrated the scenery with tales of the past, including Mathieu in it. Francis would normally enjoy joining in and teasing his partner, but he had troubles following them up even though they walked at a relatively normal pace. The Frenchman wished he was anywhere else other than outside in the cold. He thought of leaving them, calling a taxi and going back to the hotel on his own, but his fingers were already frozen again and he would have to look for the taxi’s number. Arthur probably had the phone number since he called one earlier. However, Francis was too prideful to ask him the number.

They walked and walked until they reached a small park in front of the train station. By that time, Francis thought his fingers were so frozen that he might lose some of them. His feet weren’t any better. Arthur and Mathieu spotted a bench and sat on it to take a break while Francis stood in front of them. At this point, Francis had his hands inside his coat pockets and the bottom half of his head hiding behind the scarf. Some of his hair locks were frozen too for some unknown reason and his cheeks and ears were red, almost turning to purple. When Mathieu sat down, he noticed how cold Francis looked.

“Es-tu correct, papa?”¹⁵ Mathieu asked him with concern.

“Ouais”¹⁶ was all Francis could be able to say through his shivering.

“Would you like to go back to the hotel, Francis?” Arthur sighed.

Francis nodded.

“You could have said so before, you dumb bitch.” Arthur added as he took his phone out to call a taxi.

The Frenchman didn’t have the energy to insult him back. Mathieu stood up and removed his jacket and offered it to his papa. He wouldn’t have taken it if he wasn’t so desperately cold and if he didn’t appreciate and enjoy gifts he received from his kids. The inside of Mathieu’s jacket was really fluffy and warm, like wearing a cloud.

When Arthur was done telling the taxi operator their current location, he hung up the phone and noticed Mathieu gave his jacket to Francis and only wore a red t-shirt.

“Aren’t you cold, Matthew?” He asked his son.

“Nah. It’s only -10°c anyway.” Mathieu shrugged.

Arthur almost choked himself with his saliva at this comment.

“What do you mean, ONLY -10°c? That’s too bloody cold, lad.” Arthur replied, making the taller blond boy laugh. “Even I want to go back inside and get warm. Perhaps get a cup of tea or something.”

“We can wait for your taxi inside the train station if you want.” Mathieu suggested.

The other two didn’t even have to say anything; they both agreed and followed Mathieu inside the train station.

Back at the hotel room, after Arthur took out his own coat, gloves and hat, he helped Francis get undressed and wrapped him around in the fluffy tartan blanket from the bed.

“Sit down on the chair and I’ll light up the fireplace for you.” Arthur requested him.

Francis smiled softly as he sat down in one of the two sofa chairs in front of the fireplace. It didn’t take long for him to sit with his bare feet on the chair, holding his legs close to his body. Arthur took a match out of the matchbox sitting on the top of the fireplace and lit it up. He quickly threw the match inside the fireplace and closed the glass door.

“Right. I’ll get some water boiling for tea. Would you like a cup?” Arthur asked.

“Oui, s’il te plaît.” ¹⁷

Arthur kissed his boyfriend’s red cold cheek and left to the small kitchen to boil some water with the kettle. Francis laid on the side of his head on the chair and watched him, smiling. While Arthur rarely said he loved him or complimented him much, he did care a lot when it mattered. He was there for him if he needed him and of course, Francis would do exactly the same.

Arthur came back with two cups of boiling hot water and put it down on the side table between the two sofa chairs and sat down next to Francis. The Frenchman noticed his boyfriend brought his own tea bags and even thought of bringing Francis’ favourite kind of tea even though he preferred coffee over tea. He watched as Arthur soaked the tea into the cup.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

“Oui. Merci.”

“You’re welcome”

Francis got up from his chair and went to sit on Arthur’s lap.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Francis wrapped his arms around his partner’s neck and kissed him tenderly.

“I love you.” Francis whispered after he was done kissing. Arthur blushed and pulled Francis closer.

“Je t’aime aussi.”¹⁸ Arthur whispered back.

Translation:

¹ “I promise you a great time.”

² “It’s too easy to tease you”

³ “We don’t have winter like this back home, do we?”

⁴ “Yeah. At least, it’s better than your rain for 10 months a year.”

⁵ “You know the Queen isn’t coming today, right?”

⁶ “Can you help me, my love?”

⁷"What? One hour? We won't even have time to have sex."

⁸ "I must be at the top of myself. I can't go out like a poor peasant. Who do you think I am?"

⁹ “It’s gorgeous, right?”

¹⁰ “I have a scarf that would look good with it. Anyway, we won’t stay long outside. Who in their right mind would stay outside in that kind of weather?”

¹¹ “I don’t need your pity. I’ll order a nice hot coffee and I’ll be fine.”

¹² “It’s true

¹³ “Ah. I’m sorry, my love.”

¹⁴ “What about going shopping? Wouldn’t it be nice, would it? You told me about a shopping mall with a mini theme park inside, didn’t you?”

¹⁵ “Are you ok, dad?”

¹⁶“Yeah”

¹⁷ “Yes please.”

¹⁸ “I love you too.”

#frukweek #frukweek2021 #aph fruk #hws fruk #fruk #ukfr #aph ukfr #hws ukfr #aph england #hws england #aph france #hws france #THIS TOOK ME TOO LONG #i do love fluffy old married couple trope #no beta read #we post the first draft like the finnish in russia #i legit thought we were during winter at the end like bruh we're only in August. its hot out

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graphicabyss · 4 years ago

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XVII-XVIII Century Royal Queer History

Unexpectedly to myself, I got really engaged in history of Europe of XVI-XVII centuries. I never really had much interest in kings and queens and didn't know much about them but once I began to read and learn about their personal lives, I got kinda hooked. Also, I was struck by how many of them were queer and I began to write down my findings, which inevitably turned into a freaking study. I thought I might as well post it.

I'm gonna start with King James I of England who ruled in XVII century. Now there are several tumblr posts about this queer legend. Some historians think he was weak and unremarkable but he survived several assassination attempts, kept his power over 3 countries and lived to old age, which is pretty remarkable on its own. He also kept all the religious leaders at bay and commissioned the world's most famous Bible, which is still owned by most Christians 400 years later. He was also the one who created the modern wedding ritual. You know, church, vows, rings, that stuff. He avoided wars and was a patron of the arts, even wrote some books, including one about demons, werewolves and vampires. What a nerd. He was very different from Elizabeth who preceded him, so one contemporary epigram stated "Elizabeth was King, now James is Queen". Oh, also he was very gay. Or, at least, as gay as a king can get. His relationships with his male courtiers were notorious. He had several favourites who had way too much influence over him and his court really hated it.

He needs to have a movie made about him, seriously. I found only one semi-documentary film and it was The King James Bible: The Book That Changed The World (2011). While I liked the film and King James was hot, sassy and very cool, it was disappointing he was shown as perfectly straight. They could just avoid his personal life altogether, but instead they chose to show him being a perfect husband. While it is true that he was nice to his bride, by the time he met her he had a 10-year old relationship with a man 24 years his senior (since he was 14). I'm just gonna use this screenshot from the movie instead of a painting because it's too good.

Perhaps the most notorious of his alleged lovers was George Villiers, 1st Duke of Buckingham. Starting out as a son of a minor gentleman, the 21-year old lad caught the eye of King James I and quickly became his favourite teasing him by dancing in intricate performances called masques. He made a brilliant career becoming a knight, an earl, a Marquess, and finally a duke - a title normally being reserved for members of the royal family - within just 9 years. Can you blame him though? I mean, look at that stud.

Btw, James’ pet name for Buckingham was ‘Steenie’, derived from St. Stephen who reportedly had the face of an angel.

The name Buckingham seemed oddly familiar to me but it took some time before I realized he was one of the characters in Dumas's "The Three Musketeers". Now I am someone who grew up on old pure Three Musketeers movies so when I started learning about the real historical figures involved in it it gave me a slight shock as the truth is way more weird and sinister that fiction.

The storyline I remember the most was the one where Anne of Austria, the queen of France, got in trouble with her husband Louis XIII because of her affair with Duke of Buckingham. Of course, Duke of Buckingham was never the Queen's lover, he was the King's. What's more, some historians assume Louis XIII was also queer. There is no evidence that Louis kept mistresses, but he had very intimate relationships with his favourites. He has even been described as “repelled by female contact”. There's also the issue of him struggling to have an heir. His wife had 4 pregnancies that were unsuccessful but that seemed like too few for a king who needed to secure his dynasty. After 23 years of trying, the king and queen were finally able to produce a son and another soon followed, the older son to become Louis XIV, and the younger, Philippe, to be known as Duke of Orleans.

Anne was quite the character for a dramatic story too. After Louis's death she became the Regent and made sure to clear the way for her son Louis. To ensure that Louis's younger brother will not try to usurp the power from him as it was with Louis XIII 's brother, Anne of Austria conducted an early and very wicked gender development experiment. She and her adviser, Cardinal Mazarin, set up a plan to raise the two boys very differently. Queen Anne called Philippe by such nicknames as "my little girl" and encouraged him to dress in feminine clothing, which he sometimes did even as an adult.

I'm just gonna use this quote because this shit is real: The queen and Mazarin discouraged the duc d'Anjou [Philippe] from traditional manly pursuits such as arms and politics, and encouraged him to wear dresses, makeup, and to enjoy feminine behaviour. His inclination toward homosexuality was not discouraged, with the hope of reducing any threat he may have posed to his older brother. Reportedly, Cardinal Mazarin even commanded his nephew, Philippe, to de-flower the king's younger brother.

Well, fuck. The joke's on them though, as Philippe grew up to be a fashion icon AND a fierce warrior. He participated in many battles and was immensely praised for his bravery and valour. In 1677, he led the French forces at the Battle of Cassel against William III of Orange of the Netherlands. Yes, that guy who later gently invaded England and took the throne. By the way, there are some allegations that he was also gay. Anyway, Philippe was so badass in battle that people glorified him as a hero and it made his stallion of a brother so jealous he sent him back and never allowed him on the battlefield again. Louis XIV continued his mother's effort in encouraging his brother's effeminate behaviour and putting up with his homosexual relationships, all the while waging a war of homosexuality in France. I mean, gotta preserve the traditional values, such as fucking 12 mistresses who were often married. There were even rumours Louis fucked Philippe's wife. I guess he was trying to make up for his father, brother, son, and uncle, César de Vendôme. Meanwhile, Philippe gave no fucks. He had a number of favourites and didn't even try to hide his sexuality. In fact, it is said that every time Louis pissed him off, Philippe did something extra gay and in his face. Fierce.

One guy I have to mention is Armand, the Comte de Guiche, who was said to be handsome, vain, and manipulative. Armand was Philippe’s lover, but he is widely thought to have been his wife Henrietta’s lover as well. That apparently wasn’t enough for the guy, because in 1665 he also tried to romance Louise de La Valliere, who was Louis’ chief mistress at the time. Louis exiled him in 1662 for plotting with Henrietta to break up Louis and Louise. What a glorious fucker.

But the love of Philippe's life was Chevalier de Lorraine who was basically a prince of a realm outside France. He's usually called 'Chevallier' but his name was also Philippe. He also had an older brother named Louis. Seriously, couldn't they try a little harder with the names? Anyway, when they met Philippe was 18 and Chevalier 15 and sparks flew. He was described as being “as beautiful as an angel” and was more than ready to use what his mama gave him. He was smart and very manipulative and Philippe showered him with gifts all his life, much to the chagrin of his two wives whose money and estates he often gave away.

He moved to Palais-Royal, the same palace as Philippe and his wife Henriette. Very convenient. Philippe's marriage got kinda crowded. Chevalier got so arrogant, he actually told Philippe's wife she needs his permission to sleep with him and that he could get him to divorce her. She complained to the king and he got Chevalier imprisoned and exiled. However, not for long as Philippe pleaded the king to pardon him and eventually succeeded. Henriette did not get much relief apparently as she wrote: “I see from the ashes of Monsieur’s love for the Chevalier, as from the dragon’s teeth, a whole brood of fresh favourites are likely to spring up to vex me.” Of course, Chevalier also managed to enrich himself immensely by getting Philippe and the king to give him and his family tons of perks, such as make him the titular Abbot of four abbeys, which payed handsomely.

Henriette died very suddenly claiming she was poisoned. The doctors found no evidence of that, but there were still rumours that Chevalier was to blame. Philippe had to find another wife, even if he wasn't happy about it. Chevalier stuck around. He was exiled a second time after he apparently seduced the king's son (more on that later) but was able to return again. Their relationship lasted for 40 years, until Philippe's death.

There was a recent TV show called Versailles that depicts Louis XIV’s reign and it has a fairly accurate though romanticized portrayal of Philippe and Chevalier's relationship. Too bad the show is way too violent for me to watch. They look stunning in it~

Anyway, such relationships were far from rare. In fact, apparently there were the so-called confréries (“fraternities”), which were basically gay brotherhoods whose members hung out together and set up orgies. One elite brotherhood was founded between 1680 and 1682. Apart from Chevalier, it included the king Louis XIV's cousin Prince of Conti who was once proclaimed the King of Poland, and Louis's illegitimate son, the comte de Vermandois. The latter was 15 in 1682 when at the court of his uncle Philippe, he met the Chevalier de Lorraine and his sect and apparently got very personally acquainted with Chevalier's younger brother and nephew. When the king learned about it, the group was forcibly dissolved and Vermandois was beaten before the king, exiled from court, and forced into marriage. Another such group was within the highest ranks of nobility at the court of Philippe II, Duke of Orléans, the son of Philippe and the regent at the time when Louis XV was young. They really didn't bother with names, huh? Anyway, they got involved in a number of scandals, in one of which that happened in 1722 a group of 17 noble men gathered in the palace gardens to fuck. The Regent didn't seem very bothered and even seemed to find it amusing.

The Regent, who did not stop smiling, was satisfied that it was necessary to give the nobles a harsh reprimand and tell them that they do not have the best taste [goût] in the world.

Dad would be proud.

There were also some (presumably) queer queens, like Queen Anne of England. Now you might have seen the movie The Favourite but it's heavily satirized and Anne wasn't really childlike and helpless. Actually, this image was created by Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough, after she was expelled by Anne, and stuck. However, the rivalry between the old and new favourites was very real.

Anne met Sarah when she was just 8. Sarah was beautiful, charming and very persuasive. When Anne became the queen, she made Sarah Churchill her Mistress of the Robes (the highest office in the royal court that could be held by a woman) and gave her a bunch of other really cool titles. She also made her husband, John Churchill, a duke. Thus Sarah became the most powerful person in England after the queen and the queen always listened to her advice. However, as years went by, Sarah became increasingly pushy and insensitive, using the queen to get what she wanted.

Sarah looking fab~

Then comes Abigail Masham, Sarah's impoverished cousin. Abigail was soft, caring and considerate, exactly what the queen needed. Sarah tried to get rid of her but it only angered the queen further and she eventually dismissed Sarah and her husband and banished them with disgrace while Abigale took her place. Sarah then wrote scandalous memoirs, painting the queen as weak and instable, as well as implying that her relationship with Abigail was lesbian. In mid-1708, she helped to circulate a ballad with such lyrics as: “Her secretary she was not / Because she could not write / But had the conduct and the care / Of some dark deeds at night.”

While there is no direct evidence that she and Anne had sexual relationship, there are many letters between the women that are very romantic and intimate. Sarah even used them to blackmail the queen. And you can kinda see why. “Tis impossible for you ever to believe how much I love you except you saw my heart,” the princess wrote in one letter, as quoted in Anne Somerset’s biography of Anne. “If I writ whole volumes I could never express how well I love you,” read another.

Also, like, evidence was hardly even a thing with queer relationships, since the only solid evidence of regular affairs were illegitimate children.

Finally, I really want to talk about Frederick II, the king of Prussia. Buckle up because this is gonna be long.

Until the age of 7 Frederick was growing up with his lit mother and sister. Here they are, looking gorge. I think he's in blue but tbh I'm not 100% sure.

Anyway, as he got older he was taken to his father and that's when things got shitty. His father, Frederick William I, was the model image of toxic masculinity. He was all about power and military and expected his son to be the same. And since the boy was a lot more into music, poetry, and French stuff, his father often beat and humiliated him. He didn't allow him to learn French and Latin because, like, that's so gay. Now he was a real man. With a weird kink for tall guys. He is known for creating the Potsdam Giants, a regiment of very tall men that he didn't use for battle, just dressing them up and making them march. Ultimate straightness. It is probably redundant to say but his father also hated 'sodomy' and it was punishable by death, a law Frederick would repeal.

And the thing is, Frederick wasn't even supposed to become a king. He was the third son. It wasn't even disease. The first son died because a volley was fired close to his crib (because that’s the only way to wake up a real man - canon) and the second died at baptism because the royal crown crushed his skull. And you thought your parents were bad. Poor Frederick didn't even want to be a king, he just wanted to play the flute and do his thing. In a different age he'd be writing musicals on Broadway or something.

Anyway, there are few doubts among historians the man was gay. There's this BBC documentary that downplays it but it keeps saying he grew up in an environment where he was "leading a double life" and that he once wrote to a close friend that he felt he was a mirror that dared not be what nature made it, forced to oblige what was around it. Please.

Frederick's first presumed relationship was at 16, with Keith, the king's 17-year-old page. Unsurprisingly, Keith was soon sent to a far-off frontier. Right after that, however, Frederick got real close with an officer Hans Hermann von Katte. The dude was very woke and they both loved music and poetry but shit got very real very soon. In 1730, Katte and Frederick decided to flee to Britain to escape their despotic fathers. Sadly, they got caught and tried for treason. Although the prince was pardoned, Katte was sentenced to life imprisonment, which his sick dad changed to execution and then forced Frederick to watch it. At execution Katte and Fred shouted to each other endearments in French and before it happened, Frederick fainted. That shit really fucked him up and he got depressed but he toughened up and accepted his fate.

Aged about 20, Frederick was expected to marry. After a few failed attempts, an Austrian bride was selected, Elisabeth Christine of Brunswick-Bevern. Frederick was clearly unexcited and apparently even threatened suicide. As soon as he had secured throne, he sent her away and only met with her out of necessity. They had no children. And some historians are like, "well, they just didn't get along". Well, his folks hated each other but it didn't stop them from having 14 children.

Anyway, his father finally got off his back and as a crown prince, he mostly spent his time reading, composing, watching plays and writing woke political essays. Then his dad died so playtime was over.

Now that sounds like a story of a "weak" king. A man who loved to read books and play his flute. But it's not how it was. As Fred became king, he inherited a very militarized state with a huge-ass army and he worked with what he had. He started expanding Prussia, starting with Austria, which he had old beef with. He wasn't out for world conquest, he struck swiftly and strategically to consolidate and strengthen his state.

Frederick, widely known as Frederick the Great, waged war against much bigger armies with great success and doubled Prussia's size in his reign. Which is why Hitler was obsessed with the guy smh. Would make more sense if he was into the Frederick Senior, with his militarism and his little hobby of inbreeding giants and all. He must have missed the part where he was tolerant, modest and also gay.

Frederick also had a younger brother, Prince Henry, who was also gay. He was an important general in the king's army, though their relationship was quite complicated. Henry married but like his brother, bore no children, ignored his wife and spent time with fine lads.

Look at this unapologetic legend!

When Frederick wasn't battling, he was doing lit stuff. He built a gorgeous palace in French fashion, full of Grecian sculptures and homoerotic paintings. He attracted the best intellectual minds of his time. Voltaire lived there for 3 years btw and he did not hold back to make many "wink wink" references to the king and his Grecian taste.

Speaking of which... One of his closest friends was Michael Gabriel Fredersdorf, an army private and a son of a peasant. Frederick met him as a prince and kept him by his side for the rest of his life, quite literally as he had an adjoined bedroom in his palace. He also made him a chancellor and gave him an estate, which really pissed off the elites.

Frederick is a complex character. Sure, he waged war and very successfully asserted himself as one of the top military leaders in history. But at the time Prussia was a scattered landlocked state, it couldn't just opt out of war so it's not like he could just go "peace out, bitches". But he did so much more. The guy actually believed that the king's duty was to be just and improve the lives of his people. He did some major reforms, improved education, supported art, and practiced religious tolerance, which was pretty woke at the time. He abolished torture and corporal punishment. He made governing more democratic by hiring people based on ability, not just status. Sadly, his cool legacy was utterly destroyed because the Nazi decided to appropriate him as their idol but lately it’s being reassessed. It’s hard to judge him considering how much he went through. But despite it all he became one of the best military commanders in history, one of the most woke and talented monarchs, and of course a legendary queer!

Disclaimer: I know all of these people did some terrible shit, at least by modern standards, but I'm here to have fun so I'm not going to go there now. Sources: medium.com/@LukeBoneham/the-politics-of-desire-... thehistoryofparliament.wordpress.com/2019/02/21... www.ranker.com/list/life-of-philippe-dorleans/m... cour-de-france.fr/vie-quotidienne/sociabilite-e... aelarsen.wordpress.com/2018/07/20/versailles-th... thedrummersrevenge.wordpress.com/2007/06/22/ref... dirtysexyhistory.com/2017/09/03/a-secret-gay-br... unspeakablevice.tumblr.com/post/82525976110/lou... journals.openedition.org/crcv/14427#ftn161 Marie Antoinette's World: Intrigue, Infidelity, and Adultery in Versailles The Real Versailles - BBC Two

BBC Four - Frederick the Great and the Enigma of Prussia https://medium.com/war-is-boring/historys-greatest-gay-general-fd7d1d311464 https://www.queerportraits.com/bio/frederick https://www.spectator.com.au/2015/10/frederick-the-great-king-of-prussia-is-a-great-read/ http://gayinfluence.blogspot.com/2011/10/frederick-great-1712-1786.html https://www.history.com/news/true-story-queen-anne-sarah-abigail-the-favourite-fact-check

#King James I #Duke of Buckingham #George Villiers #Philippe Duke of Orleans #Queer History #Chevalier de Lorraine #Queen Anne of England #Frederick the Great

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snowbellewells · 4 years ago

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A Cottage by the Sea {Part Five}

Here we are at last! After months off (I’m truly sorry for that wait, by the way!) I’m back with the next to last addition to this @cssns20 story - only the final part/epilogue left to go. I meant to have this up much earlier today, but I had several different things come up that made me later. I hope you all who are still reading will enjoy... :)

Summary: Princess Emma has always been drawn to the shores of Misthaven, where the sea meets the sand near her parents’ castle. When an unknown boy washes up on the beach, with eyes as fathomless and blue as the waters that brought him to her, he soon becomes Emma’s best friend, her partner in crime, and her other half. But the tides give and the tides take away, and as her blue-eyed boy sails in her father’s navy and risks all in defense of those who made him family, unexpected danger and challenge will try to tear them apart, and might well show him just where he came from that day he first appeared to her from the sea…

From the beginning on AO3, and here on Tumblr

Part Five

Calypso looked on with a mother’s concern and doting affection, treasuring the chance to see her son happy. After so many years separated from her children, to have one of them here on her island where she could speak to him each day, brush back the wild dark hair from his face as she had done when he was just a little boy, no longer having to miss him, and knowing he would always be safe. It was nearly inducement enough to put a protective barrier up around her hidden home - an enchantment as she’d had before letting it down to allowing Killian’s princess passage, that would keep others out, and her son and his beloved in.

Yet, tempting as it was, the sea nymph knew better than most that she could do no such thing. Killian might find contentment here, now that Emma was by his side, but she could never force him to stay in such a manner. She would be parting him cruelly from the life he had worked hard to make for himself, and from the people who had taken him in - those who had become hs family when Davy had taken he and Liam from her arms. Having been forced to live with such loss, she would force no such thing on anyone else.

No, she would not make her beloved boy - long since become a man - remain here. She knew he would go, and even as she feared what might await him on his journey back to Misthaven; almost sensing that the threat from the deep was not yet over, she could only treasure this interlude she had been granted, to see Killian again, and to let him know he and his elder brother had always been loved and wanted.

~~***~~

Far below in the depths, fathoms beneath where Calypso watched anxiously, eyes drinking in every second of her son’s presence she could, and where Killian Jones and his royal lady love splashed and frolicked in the tide, another pair of eyes waited and watched, biding his time. True, he used supernatural means to do so - a dark orb of swirling greenish water housed in a gigantic open half shell platform brought the image to his underwater lair - but it was just as effective. Twice his younger son had escaped his clutches - once washed ashore as a youth before he could drag Killian down in his watery hold, and the second time foiled by the righteous nymph who fancied herself saving the whelp’s life. ‘Saving him? Bah!’ Davy’s glowering evil mind recanted. What could be more glorious than receiving his destiny? Sitting at his other side with Liam, ruling over the deep?

All these years, he’d been missing the set, the pair; he had his elder son - the wreck nearly a decade ago had seen to that - but he would not rest until both his sons were with him, his rule and legacy complete.

Of course, though he might hold his firstborn in thrall - unable to escape and return to the land of the living unless Davy released him, not after so long under the sea - that did not mean his eldest remained willingly. A dark glance over his shoulder gave him a view of Liam silently waiting and watching until orders were given him. Brooding, was more accurate, the immortal fiend thought angrily. Unlike the other souls lost and gathered into his unholy crew, Liam still looked much as he had when he had first been pulled below. He was not a mindless shade, hollowed and twisted beyond recognition as many of Davy’s captives for any length of time became. He still stood young, proud, and tall; broad-shouldered and handsome, just the sort of right hand a king of the deep would require, and Davy knew it well; it was just as he had envisioned long ago when he sent the typhoon that had claimed Liam’s young life. Unfortunately, the flaw in his plan was that it was meant to have brought him Killian as well, both his heirs to flank him and support him - his powerful living legacy. Instead his youngest had slipped through his clutches by chance or Fate - or interference from the dratted creature he had once charmed into loving him, who had borne him two strapping lads. To his way of thinking, Calypso had known full well just who he was and the darkness within him, but had then grown a conscience and set herself to oppose him at every turn.

“Liam!” he bellowed. Though he knew his eldest lingered just nearby, rekindled temper made his voice boom and reverberate in the small space, bouncing off the cavernous rock that encased his throne room. “It’s time my boy,” he pronounced, evil fire lighting eyes that had once been as blue and mesmeric as either of his sons’ but were now clouded and dark - foreboding whatever his mood. “Kilian will join us soon, as he should have long ago.”

The elder Jones brother, face steady and resolved, without flicker of emotion to betray his true thoughts came to stand at his father’s side dutifully when beckoned. He nodded at the boastful proclamation without comment, though if one looked closely - as Davy was too absorbed to do - they would have seen the strain in Liam’s every muscle, the tension radiating from his clenched jaw and tightly balled fist. His concern for his long-missed younger sibling would have been evident if one were watching, though he had learned long ago that luckily his power-mad sire noticed only what pleased him and related to his own concerns. He didn’t want Killian with him out of any genuine desire to reunite his family, but through some twisted ideal of dynastic completion.

Though he couldn’t hide all of his concern, Liam schooled his face into a mask of bland curiosity and obedience as he looked to Davy who growled, “You remember the job you are to do?”

“Aye,” Liam affirmed simply with a curt nod, leaving out that he had every intention of doing the opposite when the moment came.

He left soon after, knowing his keeper - all the moniker his pitiless sire truly deserved - would never suspect him to do anything other than exactly as he decreed. ‘Thank the gods for small mercies on that score,’ Liam thought as he swam from the lair with unnaturally strong, tireless strokes. Such blind tunnel vision was all he really had to count on in his hopes to turn the tide.

~~***~~

Emma was genuinely surprised by Calypso’s warmth and affection as the gracious sea numph accepted her thanks for her aid and guidance in finding Ogygia before drifting lost at sea interminably. Of course this otherworldly being - uncannily graceful and stunning in all respects - was Killian’s mother! Not wonder he had always been able to charm any person he met with a mere smile or twinkle of his eyes! The part that staggered Emma was that the woman would embrace her and bless them as a couple rather than begrudge her pulling Killian away when she had just found him again. Princess trained in regal bearing and dignity she might be, but all the same, Emma could only tightly hug Killian’s mother in return, blubbering an apology about not being able to desert her parents and her people, which Calypso acknowledged with a calm gesture of understanding, and then boarded the ship, trying to quickly wipe away the stray tears that had escaped down her cheeks. She was glad to be able to say she had met his mother, and Killian deserved a moment alone to say his farewells - at least for the moment.

“Your princess is truly a lovely young woman,” Calypso told her son warmly, squeezing his hands in her own, hating to think that soon Killian would once again be out of her reach. “She is as enchanting and kind as her lady mother, Misthaven’s Queen, is reputed to be. I have no doubt that she will rule justly and well when the time comes.”

“Nor do I,” Killian agreed softly, his assurance, and the pride her felt for his beloved clear in word and tone. “But Mother, I…”

“And she loves you,” Calypso continued, cutting him off because she knew she must tell him all before her emotions choked her. “Above all else, she holds you closest to her heart, my son. Right where you deserve to be. It does a mother’s heart good to see it.”

Killian bowed his head, flushing to the tips of his ears, pointed like hers he realized now with pleasure to have a trait in common with this mother he hated to part from. “And I love her,” he replied without hesitation, “But you know that I love you as well… don’t you?” He pressed their joined hands to his chest, just over his heart. “That I do not wish to leave you? Emma’s people look to her; they need her… and I have responsibilities as well. Her parents, they took me in…”

“Never fear, Killian,” Calypso soothed her son easily. “I do know. And you will never fully leave me. You will always be my baby boy. You - and she - will always be welcomed here, should you ever wish to return.”

For a long, heavily charged moment mother and son leaned into a lingering embrace - full of comfort, which neither wished to let go. Foreheads touching, Killian tried to breath in her scent, to memorize the sound of her voice - all the things he had forgotten before.

“I will always be here for you, Son,” she promised as he turned to stride across the sand and into the ship to sail home. “You know where to find me… whenever you need.”

Her son waved one last time before joining his princess at the bow, and soon their little ship was no more than a speck on the horizon, drifting further and further away.

~~***~~

They had been on the water some hours when a gentle bubbling and foaming disturbance of the surface appeared just ahead of their boat. Both Killian and Emma noted it, but were not terribly concerned at first. It was only when the waves around them began to roll and grow choppy, forcing Emma to grasp the sides tight-lipped and white-knuckled and Killian to eye the frothing, churning, and ever-expanding disturbance with worry he did not wish to voice. This was clearly no mere passing dolphin or larger tide as he had first hoped. He remembered too just how malevolently and suddenly the storm which wrecked his vessel and drowned the rest of his crew had blown up. He could not bear to see such a calamity befall Emma.

Glancing to his side, Killian’s heart swelled with admiration and affection for her as she braced herself and remained calm, neither crying nor panicking as many an untested sailor might have done. She was silent and steady - every bit as determined to hold her own as he was to see her home safely. However, he was about to caution her to wrap a length of rope around her oar-lock and then her waist securely, so that if she were tossed overboard he could haul her back in before she was lost, when suddenly their small craft bucked and lurched so strongly that she was thrown to the deck on hands and knees, and he nearly toppled down on her, despite his own more seasoned sea legs.

Before Killian could even reach to help her up, some unknown form broke the surface in the center of the spinning waters, and once it did, the worst of the pitching and rolling calmed. A head, then broad shoulders, emerged seemingly from the deep - as impossible as it should have seemed. However, they did just leave the island of his mother the sea nymph, so neither felt quite as supported by usual logic as they once had been. It was only as the figure glided toward them on the waves, as if they could simply float atop the water weightlessly without the effort of swimming, that Kilian recognized its build and look with a shock of disbelief. As the mysterious arrival raised unmistakably blue eyes to meet their awestruck gazes, the single word fell from his mouth on a harsh, ragged breath. “L- Liam?”

Emma’s head whirled to stare at him, then the aquatic visitor, and back, slack-jawed and goggle-eyed. She wanted to make sure she’d heard him correctly. Liam? The brother who had died when Killian was a child? Who had been lost to the sea at the same time it brought Killian to her? How was that possible? The thoughts cropped up in her mind one after another, but turning to see the intensity and confusion, the pain and the dawning joy on Killian’s face made her hold her tongue.

Tears started in the corners of her own eyes all the same, though he managed to speak again softly, “Brother? ...Is it really you? You- you drowned.” His face almost crumpled, and Emma wanted desperately to take his hand in comfort, but she held back, sensing that the brothers needed this moment - however it was happening. “I thought you were lost.”

Somberly, the shaggy head of hair lighter and curlier than Killian’s nodded to confirm his words. “Aye, it’s me, Little Brother.” He glided closer, out of the water up to his waist, until he was right next to their vessel, facing Killian as he reached out tentatively. “I was drowned… more or less. But I have not really died, not as one normally understands it. Oh blast, am I buggering this up!”

Emma knew her face must match the look of perplexity covering her sailor’s. The words this man was uttering didn’t make sense. And yet, Killian would not - could not - leave him hanging, regardless of his confusion. He reached forward and met Liam in a tight, frantic hug of reunion after so many years apart, She heard a strangled sob leave the younger Jones, muffled against his elder brother’s shoulder, which was in turn shaking rather markedly with a soundless anguish and relief of its own.

When they finally parted, Liam’s hands were resting on Killian’s shoulders as he peered into his brother’s eyes intently. “I will explain all - as best I can anyway. I swear it, Killian. I am sorry I could not make myself known to you sooner.”

Killian nodded in acceptance of those words, looking almost dazed - as if afraid to even blink or speak for fear his beloved sibling would vanish from him again.

“But first,” the elder Jones continued, “I must tell you how I have reached you now - and warn you to be on your guard.”

Tremors ran down Emma’s spine at the words themselves, and the tone in which they were spoken. This was not idle chatter, but a true threat, and she could only imagine who, or what, he might warn was coming their way.

Killian gave his older brother a curt nod of understanding, urging Liam on. It was clear how they would have worked impeccably well together - an unstoppable team on any ship - if things had been different, if they had been allowed to sail into adulthood side-by-side. They do not argue or waste time, but instead each obviously trusted the other at their word, without a second’s hesitation, and moved forward without fail toward what must be done - not allowing room for doubt nor fear.

Liam cleared his throat, eyes lowered to avoid quite holding contact with either of their faces when he continued, voice gravel-rough and low. “Of course you know of Davy Jones and his infernal locker…” he began..

Again, Killian nodded in confirmation, “Aye, naturally.”

“What most do not know - what I myself could not have known all those years ago, still just a lad, and would never have believed, is that Davy Jones and the legend surrounding him - his locker, his cursed crew, the Flying Dutchman - all of it is true.”

Neither Killian nor Emma spoke to interrupt him, though it was a near thing, both of them staring frozen and gobsmacked, trying to figure out how they must have misunderstood Liam’s words. Finally, Killian gathered his wits enough to sputter incredulously, “You mean to say that you’ve been held prisoner - a part of that villain’s crew all this time? How - how is that possible?”

Liam shook his head resignedly, answering with little more than a shrug and a low voice. “I do not begin to know the whys and wherefores, Little Brother. Until seeing you here before me, I had genuinely lost all sense of time passing, and much memory of who I once was and what I felt long ago - a sort of suspended animation, if you will.”

Emma had remained quiet throughout their exchange - partially stunned into speechlessness and partially from a desire to allow Killian the time and space to be reunited with the sibling he had mourned as long as she had known him. Yet, with this revelation, she found her curiosity overruling her previous restraint. “What allowed you to come to us now then?” she questioned, tilting her head as she attempted to study his face - familiar, but not as open to her as Killian’s had ever been. She didn’t mean to be mistrustful, but all of this tale was strange - straining belief, in fact - and his arrival to warn them at just the opportune moment seemed almost too much a coincidence.

“A fair question indeed, your Highness,” Liam answered respectfully, with a slight dip of his chin in differential bow. For a moment, his gaze slid back over to Killian with such proud approbation, as if congratulating him in finding such a sharp lass and valuing that about her, that Emma felt herself flush with pleasure.

He granted her a small but transformative smile; in truth, the way it lightened his whole aspect made him seem an entirely different person. Not only that, but the familial similarities between he and the brother she had grown up beside became all the more evident when his expression drew her in just as Killian so easily did. “In answer to your question - as fair warning, as much as it is in my power to offer you - Davy sent me to the surface anyway. He made me have you in my sights, ready to do his bidding at the moment he chooses to strike. I did not know whether I would be able to thwart his intent and show myself or speak to you ahead of when he wished, but it seems I can, and it was worth any effort for me to at least try. I believe he knows my loyalty is not fully his, in whatever degree I am free of his influence, and so he has not told me all. Have no doubt he will attack when you are weakest though, when the moment is most opportune for his victory. Please, both of you, be wary and ready. I will help you in any way I can, but I can never be fully assured how much of my will might be my own.”

Kililan’s brow furrowed in anger and disgust, his concern for the sibling he loved clear as he asked disbelievingly, “He controls you?”

Liam bobbed his head in grudging confirmation, but he wanted them to know as well as possible just what they were up against. “To a large degree, yes. If he wills it, that seems often to be the case, at any rate. Thankfully, he has numerous minions, most much more eager to serve as they are grateful to be - at least in some measure - alive. He is often distracted and not actively ordering me to do anything, and as such, I am often able to do as I will. Not that I have much to see or do here trapped within the ocean. It would have been better for me to have perished outright, but he did not allow that - not when he sent that storm to gather us both to his side.”

The elder Jones shook his head in frustration, gritting his teeth before concluding ominously, “I fear he will never rest until he has captured your soul as well, Brother… And I do not know how much I will be able to aid you or resist his orders when he directly states otherwise.”

Before he could divert his gaze, obviously ashamed that he could be used as a pawn, made to hurt those he most wished to protect, Killian brought his hand quickly to grasp his brother’s forearm, bringing Liam’s stormy gaze up to look on his own, clasping his long lost hero’s hand in a firm, brotherly grip. Killian vowed solemnly. “Understood. We will be on our guard. But do not think for a moment we will hold you to blame for something beyond your control, either.”

Emma stepped closer, looking into the slightly greyer, more muted blue of the brother she had just met’s eyes as well. “Take care of yourself too. See that you weather the storm as well so we can meet again. And thank you… for the warning.”

The shaggy head, which had once been carefully close-cropped and tended light brown curls nodded, seeming to know better - just as his younger brother always had - than to argue with a princess so prepossessed and determined. There was a sheen of unshed tears filming those wise, weary eyes as he hesitated every second he felt able, but in the end he dared not linger further, loath to draw Davy Jones’ attention to the princess and lieutenant if they could by pass his waters undetected.

Unfortunately, the entire sea was the evil being’s domain - and all those upon it a part of his purview. All three of them knew - and Liam from a sickening knowledge of seeing and living the aftermath of when struggle against Davy for survival ultimately failed - it was a battle that would take all they had, with the outcome Emma spoke of anything but assured. Still, the fact that they knew it was coming, could steel themselves and prepare for the worst, somehow steadied them. Neither Killian nor Emma had ever been people who had backed down from a fight - and they were calling on every bit of that resolve in the moment.

Though Liam was more than reluctant to leave his brother and Killian’s beloved - a princess! And a woman he already found himself feelings brotherly affection for - he knew he must do so soon. The last thing he wanted was to destroy their one advantage and let Davy know they were aware of his plot. Nor did he wish to lead his predatory sire right to Killian and Emma; let them get as close to their home and safety as they could before the nefarious, supernatural captain caught them up.

“Aye,” he finally managed to choke out harshly. “May we do so.” One more quick bow of his head, reverence in the gesture before he offered a warm, loving smile and then sunk so smoothly beneath the surface of the water that it barely rippled, unlike when he had appeared. Almost as though he had never been there at all; leaving Killian and Emma to turn to each other, vowing to fight through together, to find Liam again, their eyes promised it even if no words were spoken, whatever they were about to face.

~~***~~

Sure enough, they might have hoped otherwise, Killian and Emma felt Davy Jones’ presence approaching before they reached Misthaven’s shores. The otherworldly menace’s arrival was heralded as much by the change in the wind and the waters around them as the chill of foreboding that made the hair at their napes stand on end. Though he had not yet shown his cursed visage, the way what had simply been a pleasant breeze now picked up to whip at the sails, their hair and clothes, and to howl in their ears, and the way what had been a light blue sky turned a sickening chartreuse full of scudding grey clouds ever-darkening with ominous intent.

For an extended moment, Kilian’s eyes sought Emma’s across the small hull of their rolling vessel, being tossed more and more as the waves crested higher. “If we capsize, Emma,” he spoke slowly, firmly, as if to imprint his words on her memory if he were not still there at her side. “Swim for land in this same direction,” he indicated the way they had been traveling, over her shoulder. “We nearly reached the harbor. A strong swimmer - which you are, Love - might yet make it on their own strength.”

She wanted to ignore his words, to shake her head in wild denial that she might need knowledge he wouldn’t be there to provide. She had no intention of losing him again. And yet, the confrontation they had hoped to avoid was surely coming any minute; they would not outrun the master of those lost to the Deep. The little vessel that had taken her so far, and had nearly borne them home again was no longer managing any progress forward, merely struggling to remain afloat as it rode wildly up and down on the ever-rising swells.

And then, at long last, with a loud, whooshing roar, it was as if the ocean itself parted, a huge, dark shape, which solidified into the monstrous hulk of a ship surged up from the depths of the open chasm. As it leapt to the surface, righting itself to mount a wall of water, the split in the waves fell closed once more, leaving the blackened, ruinous black ghost of the Flying Dutchman towering before them not more than fifteen feet away - like a shark poised to swallow smaller fish too stunned or too late to flee.

No sooner had Emma been able to swallow hard in a throat suddenly parched with apprehension, her fingers clenched in the material of Killian’s sleeve, above all else determined she wouldn’t let him be taken from her again, when everything around them went horribly, unnaturally still. The waves, the wind, all their surroundings silently seeming to hold their breath before all chaos broke loose. For one last moment, she and her lieutenant fixed their eyes on each other; wordlessly swearing to see each other on the other side, whether or not it was within their power to follow through on such a promise. Then he turned to face his sire - if one could truly be made to believe that the monstrous captain towering over them at the prow of the other ship could have had any connection to the true and honorable man Killian had become. Intending to remain at his back, to do whatever she could to help him fight and keep them afloat, Emma straightened her shoulders and stiffened her spine as they waited and watched.

Sound and fury returned to the world around them as the accursed captain reached the very helm of his ship, bringing him fully into view as his low, malevolent chuckle at their show of resolve seemed to set the waves crashing and churning once more. “Oh ho, Killian, you’ve brought your intended to our long-awaited reunion, have you? Not particularly well-advised, but she is a pretty wench. I supposed I can see why you’d be loath to leave her behind.”

Killian’s frown deepend, the muscle in his jaw working as he bit down on his anger. Those eyes that she usually likened to the brilliance of a summer sky or the blue of his beloved ocean were instead lit with the pale fire of the hottest of flames at Davy’s callous words. “Hardly,” he clipped in a low growl. “I had no intention of meeting you at all. And I’ll not have you getting anywhere near Emma.”

“Is that so?” Davy snarled, his own temper seeming to erupt at his offspring’s defiance. “We’ll just see about that!”

The waves their little boat floated upon suddenly seemed propelled forward, rising on a towering crest of water as if drawn to Davy’s hand. Skilled a sailor as Killian was, there was no steering them anywhere else when the very elements were turned against them. The air seemed to quiver just as Emma found herself doing, in spite of her best efforts as they came face-to-face with the accursed being. The boards of the vessel beneath their feet groaned and creaked as the frothing sea bearing it seemed ready to dash it to kindling. The air whistled and howled, whipping her hair against her face until she was nearly blinded. And yet, she saw the horrifying shade who faced them, the dark cloud of obsession clouding eyes which might once have been clear and striking as the sons he claimed as his own. He stood taller than the average man, seeming even larger with the wild hair and wide-brimmed, ostentatiously old-fashioned hat atop his head. All his dress was from a more ornate and bygone age, and yet looked gone to ruin rather than impressive, almost mildewed, or perhaps it was a growth of some sort of moss or coral upon his apparel after so long within the sea. Beyond the visible appearance however, the aura of evil power practically radiated from his being, and Emma felt herself draw back before even realizing she had done so.

Pleased with the nightmare impression he never failed to make, Davy Jones chortled in maniacal glee. “Oh yes, I see you there, Princess. Try not to fret overmuch. No matter how brave, they always cower before me in the end.”

She wanted to contradict his words, to call back that Killian wasn’t afraid and that she believed in him, but Emma found her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth, speechless and unable to react other than to stare, frozen, until with one last murderous crow, Davy cackled, ��You’re both in my clutches, and no hope to escape. Look your last on the world above.”

Then they were falling, plummeting back to the surface with such speed and force that the boat rolled and cracked in two when it hit the water again. Swept underwater and swirled around dizzyingly, Emma fought to retain any sense of which way was up and to break free of the whirlpool ravenously threatening to suck her further down.

Her lungs burned; her rational mind knowing she would have to draw breath soon - and that it would be nothing but saltwater and spell the beginning of the end. She paddled madly, flailing for some sort of light, when suddenly, a solid arm caught her around the middle and pulled her back toward the air at last.

Certainly she had expected for Killian to have somehow reached her, though she couldn’t begin to account for the strength and speed with which she was fished from the drink. However, upon gulping her first sweet breath of air and catching a glimpse of her savior, she found not Killian, but his brother keeping her afloat. Coughing up the water she had somehow swallowed and attempting to speak her thanks, the words died on her tongue at the seeming blank and unknowing countenance Liam bore, nothing like the warmth with which he had looked at her mere hours ago.

“Liam?” she attempted to gain his recognition, even as an awful feeling stole her breath yet again. “What’s wrong? It’s Emma… don’t you remember me?”

Still he made no response, solidifying the frightened certainty that he was under Davy’s control once more and no longer acting of his own volition. Wriggling and kicking to try to break free, Emma found quickly that her efforts were useless. There was no escaping the iron grip he had on her.

Yet, even as her own panic rose to as crescendo, Emma found herself needing to find Killian, to know if he were better or worse off - and already praying that he had not somehow been swallowed by the vicious waves his sire had conjured to claim them. As her eyes flew across the distance, they came to rest on both a thrilling and blood-curdling scene. Her love stood feet planted on the overturned shell of their boat, splintered oar in hand as the only weapon available to him, and waiting as Davy drew near, magically skimming across the tops of the waves, ready to face him once again and for all.

She struggled anew against Liam’s iron hold, but he barely moved; her efforts to free herself having so little effect they might as well not have happened at all. He didn’t speak, though his expression was tormented, torn as if he were indeed in conflict between what he wished to do himself and the command that decreed his actions otherwise. Yet that did not stop Emma’s trying to reason with him, trying to break through. “Liam, please. You know me. I’m on your side, remember?” she pleaded, even as she continued to try to escape his hold. “We want the same thing. Let me go and we’ll help Killian, alright? Look, he needs us.” She flung her arm out desperately, hoping to make him see the real place they should be focused.

Liam’s gaze did move to his younger sibling for a moment, and Emma’s heartbeat quickened at the longing she saw in the elder brother’s countenance; the aching need to stand shoulder-to-shoulder and fight together for something good and true once more. But then he jerked his gaze from the scene of impending conflict once more, muttering to himself as if to drive home a point he would not have himself forget. “Not yet, not yet,” his lips were moving as he repeated it almost like a mantra. “Must wait for the opportune moment…”

Puzzled, Emma worried that she had heard him say that very phrase before, when cautioning them that Davy would choose the opportune moment to strike. All she could take from that was the fact that he woudln’t release her and hadn’t yet gone to his brother’s aid was that his father did have him under his command. Yet, Liam also looked far from peacefully mindless; he might be under duress, but he was aware and hating every second of it. Even as she was in danger from him, even as every fiber of her being clawed to get to Killian’s side and help him any way she could, her heart still broke for Liam.

“You can beat this, Liam,” she murmured fervently, trying to catch his gaze and ceasing in her struggles to rest her hand over his much larger one in solidarity. “You’ve fought him this long, hang in there a little longer.”

Something sparked in his gaze at her words, something Emma didn’t fully understand - and yet, it gave her hope. It was conscious and alive, and truly him, not Davy holding his mind captive. Had she gotten through? Had he already broken free? Then what was he waiting for?

Both of their attention snapped back to the battle sides drawn before them once more at the taunting voice of Davy Jones. “Come now, boy. You had to know you would lose to me. A mere mortal - and with something so precious to lose. Join me, part of the ship and crew that sails forever, scourge of the sea. You’ll have power, your birthright, your brother with you again. Plus, as you can see, Liam holds my ace in the hole. We’ll see your princess safely to shore if you join us. Refuse and fight, and she becomes one of us as well.”

Even at a distance, Emma could see the rage in Killian’s eyes at the demon’s words - the threat to himself already known, but unwilling to stand for the threat to her. He glanced their way only briefly, but it was enough for Emma to see Liam give the tiniest jerk of his head to the side, an unspoken denial to whatever Killian had asked with his look. “Opportune moment,” she heard him vow in a whisper once more as he held his younger brother’s stare for a resolute second longer.

Then Killian whipped back to face their sire once more with a defiant glare and what could only be called a battle cry. “Never!” he snarled, fire in his eye and retribution in his bearing. Though Emma could do nothing but watch, and though the dire situation seemed completely unchanged, she was galvanized by her love’s certainty, believing that he would prevail. Whatever had passed between he and his brother, it had been the final push he had needed.

With a roar of vengeance, the taker of imperiled souls surged forward, Emma’s gasp swallowed by the howling, churning elements at his command swelling along with his ire. As certain as she had been mere moments ago that Killian could stand firm, she was terrified that she was about to see him consumed, and the rest of them with him. Still, just as Davy’s huge bulk and accompanying wave towered over her sailor, ready to cascade over his head and bury him in the rolling depths, Killian released another feral howl and charged forward himself, meeting his villainous father head on. Boldly welding the broken spar of the boat before him, he stabbed with a force Davy could not have reckoned on, sinking the jagged tip of the wooden stake into the monster’s chest.

For a horrible beat of time, their foe appeared unfazed, and then it was as if he began to deflate, then shrink - as if no one had managed to strike such a blow before, and his defenses were not actually equal to the task. Lurching with outstretched hand to grasp either Killian or his weapon in a final strike, there was suddenly an explosion so loud it seemedd to shake the very atmosphere. A blinding flash of light radiated from where man and monster grappled to the death, then darkness fell - equally blinding - and Emma was suddenly adrift. No longer held, unable to place anything in the black night that had suddenly engulfed her, she paddled to stay afloat, and seemingly alone. Lost and completely at sea.

Bobbing aimlessly on the surface, it was hard to tell how much time had gone by, or how far she had been carried by the waves. The huge crests and white caps had receded, leaving it a gentle rise and fall that Emma was in no danger from, yet she could not feel that all was well until she understood what had happened, where she was - and where Killian was as well. Trying she might to strain and peer through the darkness however, she couldn’t make out any recognizable landmarks; nothing but the waves surrounding her and buoying her up. It was as if she had gone from the center of battle to being the only person left on Earth or sea, the silence and dark felt so immense.

Eventually, the repetitive motion of the gently rolling swells soothed her into a doze, her eyelids fluttering closed. Despite her concern for her beloved lieutenant and her occasional unconscious paddle to stay upright, after all she had been through, Emma succumbed to a restless sleep.

~~***~~

Her eyes didn’t open again until her feet drug across rough stones, having finally been carried into the shallows and touching the rough bottom not yet become sand. She jerked back into awareness with a gasp; alarmed and not at all sure where she was. Blessedly, when she looked around herself, Emma could see once more - the endless horizon stretched out before her streaked with peaches, yellows, and pinks as hte sun rose over the ocean. Even more relieving, at her back she could see rocky, deserted coastline. Devoid of people or buildings, but land all the same.

She struck out for the shore, gladly swimming toward the land that was nearer than she could have guessed. Was this Misthaven yet? Had she been carried elsewhere as she drifted and slept? There was no way to know, and she found she didn’t even care in comparison to simply getting out safely. If only she knew where Killian was…

She had barely scrabbled out upon the rough, sandy beach, feeling water-logged and half alive and at a lost for what to do, when she heard her name called over the water. “Swan!” the moniker that only he had ever used, an affectionate shorthand between the two of them, hit her ears with the welcome impact of beautiful music.

Turning, her mouth fell open in awe at the sight of him rising out of the water with otherworldly grace - as if right in his element (which, in truth, he must be). There was an ethereal glow about him, gleaming from his dark hair and the tips of his rather pointed ears, outlining his strong arms and slender waist as he emerged from the deep, sent back to her on the tide once more. “Emma” he repeated, voice low and ragged with emotion though relief and joy showed across his face. “We made it, Love. He’s gone and we’re still here!”

Unable to hold back any longer, as impossible as it was to believe, when he opened his glowing arms in welcome, standing in the ankle deep water, she felt tears of joy spilling over as she cried out his name on a sob and ran to meet him.

Feet splashing through the shallows, the slap of her skin against the near-velvet texture of the wet sand as the water splashed up with each steps, Emma was laughing and crying all at once as she gained speed. The exhaustion and defeat that had dogged her mere moemtns before completely gone at the sight of his smile. She hit his arms in a flat out run, bowling them both over and into the water again, witha yelp of surprise from Killian, a laughing tangle of limbs.

She was kissing across his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, anxious to press her lips to every bit of his skin, having feared that he had finally disappeared where she couldn’t follow. Pulling back fro only a second as he tangled his fingers in her wet hair and cradled the back of her head in his palm, she tried ot splutter out enough words to make sense. “H- how is this possible? How did you - How are you here?”

Killian chuckled, a low, comforting rumble that vibrated from his chest to her palm where it rested over his heart. He licked those gorgeous lips, parting them to answer her, and suddenly she couldn’t stand not to be kissing them for even a moment longer. The explanation could wait.

Surging forward, she captured that luscious mouth with her own, just barely murmuring, “Never mind… it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Killian might have been taken aback by her enthusiasm at frist, but he recovered admirably. Pushing back, his tongue entered the fray in a delicious bid for control of the kiss, which she ceded, humming in pleasant abandon as he rolled her to her back in the sand and surf, breaking lightly and pleasantly against their bodies. Hovering over her, his eyes sparkled in enchanting glee, and he had the audacity to lick his lips as though she were a delicacy laid out before him. “Emma, my love,” he breathed hoarsely, lowering his ips to graze along her collarbone, licking and nipping in a way that made her squirm with blissful anticipation. “We’ve made it home.”

“Mmm,” she tried to answer, but the wordless sound was all the confirmation she could muster with her body humming pleasantly from his attentions.

“We should go to your parents, Love,” Killian suggested, though half heartedly at best. “Let them know we’re alive.”

She nodded, but made no move to go anywhere, merely sinking her fingers into the muscles of his forearms, gasping and arching toward him in supplication as his nose pushed aside her wet and slightly askew bodice and that wicked mouth latched onto the flesh it had been covering.

“Later,” she finally managed breathily, having all she could do to hold on for dear life to him. “We have all the time in the world.”

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