#even though it is the snow and the winds fault and I didn’t have any access to the internet or cellular until 9pm!!!

[sexynetra]

Contemplating throwing myself off the tallest roof I can find because I couldn’t finish rawnsyf today due to power outages so enjoy this adorable photo of Marcia and the chapter will be up tomorrow assuming I don’t throw myself on the blade first.

[bucketsofmonsters]

I was wondering, in Proper Etiquette (my favourite of your writings) Reader is wearing dresses and corsets all the time (which is Wonderful and corsets are Not Evil Actually they're literally a bra that supports the weight of heavy layers of skirts BUT I DIGRESS) but how would Rygel react to his wife, feeling a little cold as fall comes along, asks to have a sweater like he's wearing and some warm pants or a wool skirt and petticoat to wear with the sweater, rather than her usual fine clothes that clearly aren't built for the weather in her new home

You’re so real for the corset thing, I will defend corsets until the day I die. Also sorry this took me forever

Rygel ran hot. You were well aware of that fact by now. Every time you pressed up against him he radiated heat, more than any person you’d ever been near, although to be fair you didn’t have much of a frame of reference. 

What had taken a bit longer was realizing they all did. 

When you’d first arrived it had been summer, a little colder than the summers you were accustomed to, but nothing too severe. 

But then winter had come, and with it, something unfamiliar to you. With it came the snow. 

It was a perfect coincidence for them because while they seemed largely comfortable in the cold of your new home, you were not. You were instead accustomed to a little rain in the winter, maybe some cold winds, but nothing an extra layer or two couldn’t combat. 

This was far from that. At first, the snow had been delightful. You’d only ever heard stories and caught glimpses of it on the peaks of faraway mountains, but here it was all around you. 

As the novelty faded, it became a bit more of a problem. 

You tried what you’d always done, adding layers and bundling up, but you just didn’t have enough. Nothing you had was built for this kind of cold and it wasn’t like you could borrow clothes from someone, you’d drown in the sheer amount of fabric.

So instead you stood, bundled under layers that were helpless against the biting cold. You’d barely been outside for a few minutes before you’d rushed back into the warmth of your room but the cold had settled in your bones and couldn’t be snuffed out so easily. 

Your jaw was clenched to stop your teeth from chattering, your whole body wound tight, trying to preserve what little heat you had. 

“I’m not built for this,” you said with a huff as you collapsed backward onto your bed, wrapping yourself in blankets. 

Rygel huffed out a laugh from his desk, his attention still focused on whatever he was reading. “Not built for what?”

“Winter. Not here at least. I think I might go into hibernation.”

He froze, eyes widening before he turned to you. “Oh my god, you’re cold. Of course you are, I should’ve prepared for this.”

You cut him off. “No, I’m fine, really. I’ve been keeping inside as much as I can, the layers have been helping, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

He did not seem convinced. “We don’t have any clothes that’ll fit you. Hell, we don’t have warm enough clothes anyway. Shit. You should’ve told me.” His words were dripping with concern as the full implications of his mistake hit him. 

“Rygel,” you said, trying to cut through the worry and reassure him. “I’m fine, really, it’s not a big deal. I can stay inside for a season, god knows there’s more than enough fires and blankets in this place to keep me warm.”

“I should have realized. I forget how fragile your kind are, I should have seen this coming, gotten you some real clothes. As much as I love those dresses, we have to get you in some furs. ”

 “We are not fragile, you are just all far too sturdy. And besides, I like my dresses.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed dismissively with a smile. “Sure we are. I really should have been more careful with you though. Your safety is more important than anything. I will keep you warm if it’s the last thing I do, even if we do have to cover up those pretty little dresses. Now, how will I ever manage to keep you warm until we can get you some better-suited clothes?”

You climbed onto his lap, ducking underneath his shirt, and pressed up close to him, absorbing his heat as you felt a chuckle run through his chest. “Maybe I shouldn’t get you warm clothes,” he said as a steady arm wrapped around you. “I think I prefer this.”

You hummed in agreement. “Plus it’s very dignified.”

His hand scooped under you, lifting you while keeping you close to him. “Very.”

You happily nuzzled further into his chest and he returned to his work, his arm still firmly wrapped around you. You were sure he’d find something for you, get you warmer clothes and make sure you were safe and warm and happy. His concern more than convinced you of that. 

And when all else failed, at least your husband ran hot.

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

it must of been the dim twinkling of lights

When a strange bat wiggles his way into the attic during a blizzard Martyn suddenly begins to learn to let someone get close. A fun time at the rats' Christmas celebration ensues.

Words: 3575 CW: Light/Casual Drinking

A gift for @moo9395 for @mcytblrholidayexchange

AO3 here

The Attic was beginning to grow cold, enough so that more of the residents were sleeping away in their cozy nooks more often than not. It was one of those evenings where everyone had long fallen asleep and only a few rats were awake to starve off the cold with slightly too rowdy activities.

Jimmy, Martyn and Oli were playing a riveting game of Red Light Green Light. Martyn was currently it, headband over his eyes to stop from peeking. Oli was well in the lead, though Martyn might have been a bit more lenient on the trash rat than Tim. It wasn’t Martyn’s fault Jimmy’s loud puffing and huffing were just as fun as the game itself. The three had been at this for much longer than any of them cared to admit, the starting line having been pushed back numerous times to increase the difficulty until it was practically halfway across the attic. They had long since stopped caring if they woke anybody up, hoping someone else would join the game, but it had yet to happen.

“Red light!” Martyn shouted, pushing his headband up and nearly off his head as he watched his friends trip to a stop. Jimmy nearly completely titled over, waving his arms to stop himself from face planting. He thought about being mean and calling him out on it to send him back to the starting line, but Oli was one turn away from winning anyway, wouldn’t be any fun to give him the win now. 

“Alright fellas’,” Martyn grinned, a hand above his head to start the final race, “On your mark-”

“Oh, get on with it,” Jimmy cut in with frustration. 

Martyn went slower, wiggling his fingers by his headband, reading to pull it down again, “Get set-”

“This man is ridiculous,” Jimmy sighed as he tensed in anticipation, his paws digging into the hard wood to push off from.

“He’s a rat, not a man,” Oli piped, his New York accent not as thick as usual, not that Martyn would point it out (yet).

“It’s a saying,” Jimmy replied, despite it not really being a saying.

Martyn was just waiting for them to finish at this point, waiting a few extra seconds just to get on their nerves. “GRE-” 

Oli was pitching forward just as something loud thunked on the nearby window. He fell forward, chin hitting the floor after Martyn was cut short. Bit ironic after all the times Tim was waving his arms around to keep balance that it was Oli that was the first to fall. 

Martyn was too focused on the glass pane to do much more than wave off Oli’s soft “owie” as he stepped lightly towards the window. It was pitch black outside, the clouds had long since dotted out the stars, and snow was flurrying down in flakes half as big as them.

He could hear something poke and pry at the window until it was pushed open just a smidge, enough for some critter to crawl through, cold air and snow blowing in like waves.

“Oi! Close the window!” Jimmy shouted, throwing any caution to said wind of what might have opened the window and rushing straight towards it, climbing up to the sill. Some Safety Rat he was. 

Martyn, not wanting his friend to get hurt to his own hastiness, was quickly after him. Oli, not wanting to miss out on anything that could potentially be funny, was quickly after Martyn. 

Jimmy was the first up the sill, having been closest to it, but Martyn wasn’t far after since Jimmy also wasn’t the fastest (Red Light Green Light had proven that). “Now what’s the big deal up here?” Jimmy demanded. 

“Oh!” a voice, a bit posh and soft, said from just under the pane. A bat, big ears, brown fur, wrinkled nose and all, was trying to crawl into the attic. He squirmed now, looking unsure if he should keep trying to come in or push his way back out, “I didn’t know this attic was, er, occupied.” 

“Well it is,” Jimmy crossed his arms, ever the one to try and establish his authority, as if the first impression could ever weigh out his general personality of boisterous incompetence (which Martyn thought with love), “What’s your business here then?”

“Just looking for somewhere warm,” The bat answered, glancing back out the window. The snow was not letting up, and was just about covering the little guy from head to toe. There seemed to be an uncomfortable silence as the bat debated, “I can just go though. Don’t need to worry about me.” 

Yeah, Martyn may not be the nicest or most trusting or the most willing to just go along with anything like some of the other attic residence, but he also wasn’t cruel. Letting his guy back out in the snow, when not even the fluffiest rat was willing to go out earlier today? Letting this guy freeze to death? Marytn didn’t want that on his conscience. 

“Now hold on a minute. It’s too cold for that. We have enough room in here for one more,” he huffed, holding his hand out of the bat to take. 

Jimmy looked skeptical but immediately took a step to force the window open a little more, Oli joining in. The bat took Martyn’s hand and was pulled in. Once he was in Jimmy and Oli threw their weight to get the window back closed, enough of their sparsely warm air had escaped already, best to stop the rest from doing so. 

Standing on two legs the bat was much taller than Martyn had thought, even slouched as he was. Now Jimmy was still a good inch taller than the bloke, but the bat was about 5 inches tall, nearly surpassing Martyn’s height. Average for a rat, sure, but pretty big for a common bat. He was also dressed to the nines in a black suit: jacket, tie, shoes and all. Looked like a proper gentleman. 

“Thanks,” the bat said quickly, head nodding to them and hands fidgeting, “I honestly really didn’t want to go back out there.”

“Don’t blame you! It’s a proper storm out there,” Jimmy replied, taking a step back and brushing snow off his vest. 

“So what is your deal, huh? You’re no kind of rat I’ve ever seen,” Oli drawled, his New York accent dialed all the way up. Martyn vaguely wondered if he was asking stupid questions on purpose or if he really had never seen a bat before. 

The bat looked just as confused as Oli seemed, “I’m not- I’m a bat, mate. I’m not one of you, I- I- um-”

Martyn patted him on the back, silencing him and knocking snow off him in heaps. “We know. How about you just tell us who you are instead?” 

The bat nodded, shaking off the rest of the snow off his limbs, “The name is Mumbo Jumbo, or just Mumbo if you’d like.” 

“Well, Just Mumbo,” Martyn joked as he turned and gestured to the large area of their attic, “Welcome to the Attic! I’m Martyn and this is Jimmy the Safety Rat and Trash Rat Oli. Most everyone is asleep right now, so we’ll give you a tour later, but until then we can hang out. How about a change of clothes though? I’m sure you’re soaked through at this point.”

“Everyone?” Mumbo asked with a hint of nervousness (though to be fair everything he said sounded slightly nervous so far), but he quickly put the question aside at the mention of new clothes, “Do you have anything spare? That would be wonderful.” 

Martyn nodded, “I got you covered, come on, you look about my size and I got a few shirts tucked away.” 

“And I have some spare trousers,” Jimmy added, “Cause, no offense to Martyn, but I don’t think his are long enough for you.”

“He’s my height!” Martyn argued, stepping next to Mumbo and swishing his hand above his and Mumbo’s head, showing they were about the same. 

“His ears make him like an inch taller,” Oli chimed in. 

“Ears don’t count.” 

“He’s also slouching. Mumbo, stand up straight for me, just a moment,” Jimmy added with a grin and, unfortunately for him, Mumbo complied, and he was, if only by a few millimeters, taller than Martyn. Looking down at the bat’s legs– and they were definitely longer than Martyn’s. His spare trousers wouldn’t do. 

“Fine!” He relented, “I’ll grab the shirt and Timmy you grab your trousers. Meet back at the bar. Mumbo with me.” 

Jimmy and Oli headed off to Jimmy’s little corner of the attic to grab some clothes while Martyn took Mumbo to his, pointing out a few homes on the way. The attic wasn’t that big, but it had plenty of room to hold an awful lot of them. He could see Mumbo out of the corner of his eye nodding along to the names as he walked a step behind him. He also noticed Mumbo’s hands twisting in front of him, like he was perpetually shaking water off his hands, but if he turned to look at him then Mumbo’s hands would immediately shift to holding them still in front of his chest, avoiding eye contact. It was kind of like what Tubbo did when he was super excited but a lot more secretive and nervous. Martyn didn’t see why the guy was hiding his nervous jitters, being in a strange place with a lot of strange rats was the most reasonable time to be nervous, but Martyn wasn’t the type to try and show off his nerves either. Not that this guy was any good at hiding his nerves. 

“This is The At-Tick Bar, my pride and joy,” Martyn pointed it out, grinning at the lovely Christmas decorations adorning the front. “I live on the second floor. Come on.” 

Mumbo made no fuss as they walked in, though Martyn couldn’t help but puff up with pride as he could see the growing wonder in the bat’s eyes at all the detail he put into his business. “Quite a place you got here.” 

“Thank you! Just wait right here, I’ll grab you a shirt.” He ascended the stairs and went through his meager things. He didn’t have much and tried his best to grab the shirt with the least amount of holes. He came tromping back down to Mumbo running his hands over one of the decorations. 

Martyn watched for a moment, more just making sure he didn’t break anything, but it was also nice to see the guy start to relax a bit. It was a wonder if he had gone through something or was just naturally this anxious, but either way it wasn’t any of Martyn’s business right now.

“Got you something!” He called, dropping down the last few stairs. 

Mumbo jumped and spun around, hands flapping in indecision before flying behind his back. “Oh! Thank you.” He glanced at the article a moment before reaching out to take it. 

Martyn handed it over, the bat looking it over a moment, hands feeling over the fabric and, upon determining it good enough, started taking off his suit jacket. Martyn watched for just a moment before turning towards and out the door to wait for Oli and Jimmy. 

He could just hear the other two rats racing back, already bickering with one another. Oli just barely made it to the bar first, paw smacking against the door frame and barely missing Martyn.

“Ha! I win!” Oli declared. 

Jimmy barely managed to stop himself from crashing into the two of them, “No fair! You tripped me! As Safety Rat I declare that a hazard and the race completely void.” 

“Gosh you’re such a sore loser, Safety Rat,” Oli grumbled back. 

Martyn just rolled his eyes and snatched the dark-colored trousers from Jimmy. He turned back into the bar- “Hey, catch-” and tossed them at Mumbo, who fumbled to catch them. 

“Thanks,” he said again and barely gave Martyn a second to turn around before he was stripping the wet trousers for the dry ones. 

“Come out when you’re done!” He called, heading out the bar to the two bickering rats. The two of them had resorted to punching and chasing one another around Oli’s trashcan. He sighed and grabbed Jimmy by his high-vis vest, pulling him to a stop. “Oh, would you two knock it off!” 

Oli opened his mouth to argue, something about Jimmy throwing the first punch and not being able to take the heat or something like that, but was talked over by Jimny. “Is the bat alright? You think he’s gonna stay long?”

Martyn shrugged, “He’s nervous, that’s for sure. As for staying? Doubt it. No one stays longer than a few hours. If it wasn’t for the blimming blizzard I wouldn’t have let him in. The moment the sky clears, he’s heading out. If we’re lucky it’ll be before anyone else wakes up.”  __________________________________________________________

It was Christmas. Martyn felt silly as he was handing out presents. He wasn’t used to caring about others, especially not enough to get them gifts no strings attached. He’s certainly never did that for any of his children. Today however, he was dressed head to toe in a big red coat, trousers and hat, sack on his back, and humoring all the younger rats with their earnest belief that he was the real thing. Tubbo especially seemed one thousand percent certain he was the Santa, and seeing the unbridled joy on the kid’s face was just maybe payment enough. (OH boy, these rats were making him soft.)

Once the presents were handed out he made his getaway, waiting till he was fully out of sight of any of the more innocent rats before slipping back into his bar. He sighed as he drifted behind the counter, pulling the beard down under his chin, and going to pour himself a teensy drink before returning to the festivities. 

“Ah, there you are,” A voice spoke from the door and Martyn rushed to pull the fake beard back up. 

“I- er- I was just looking for some milk!” He tried to cover quickly, clearing his throat as he put on the deeper voice. 

Mumbo stood in the doorway, holding back giggles. “It’s alright Martyn, I know it’s you.” 

“Not so loud!” He shouted, waving the bat inside, “Come on in. Close the door. Don’t want anybody who was fooled by my wonderful performance to grow wise, now do we? Can’t be ruining the Christmas magic.” 

“I suppose not,” Mumbo agreed and did as Martyn said, stepping in and shutting the door. His suit was switched out with a red and green christmas sweater and a nice pair of jeans. His black eyes watched him with an almost alarming amount of fondness that Martyn had been ignoring well for the last few days. Here, alone, in his warm bar, it was a little harder not to see that the look was only for him. 

It had been nearly two weeks now since Mumbo climbed through the window and despite all odds, he was still staying in the attic. A few of them had tried to kick him out, Martyn included, but either Mumbo was really bad at picking up cues or very apt at ignoring them. Either way, every attempt to “accidently” push him out a window or helping him pack a suitcase (as in packing his stuff into a bag and pushing it into his hands) or very pointed questions about where he was off to next was met with honest laughter like they were all playing a silly prank on him. Even Scott’s very curt “get out” was met only with a confused chuckle and Mumbo avoiding Scott for several days. Either way, Mumbo never understood that they were trying to kick him out, and since they were all getting along (and Martyn was really starting to like his company) all the rats gave up trying and just decided to become friends with him instead.

Lizzie practically fell in love with him immediately, prone to feeding him treats from her bakery often (when she wasn’t hibernating that is). Tubbo and Jimmy got along with him great these days, pulling him to go on adventures to “help him break out of his shell”, which mostly just led to all three of them screaming as they ran from cats or the humans. Even Owen, who had wanted him gone the moment he saw him had started talking mechanics with him like they were old friends, apparently they both had a knack for it. 

“Did you want a drink?” He asked, taking off the fake beard entirely and setting it aside. He was already pulling out the two glasses. 

Mumbo sat at the bar. “Sure, why not. Whatever you’re having.” 

He nodded and set the glasses down, pouring each with a bit of scotch. He took a slow sip, smiling at the warmth that settled in his stomach. Mumbo copied him, only to choke and sputter, setting the glass down immediately. Martyn laughed at him. 

“That’s strong,” he wheezed. 

“Want water?” 

“No. No. I can handle it,” he tried to wave him off, going to pick his glass back up.

Martyn ignored him and got them both some water, holding the glass directly for Mumbo to take, “It’ll help. Make it taste better too.” 

Mumbo’s hand brushed his as he took the glass, both of them lingering. They both ignored their growing blush as they pulled away. Martyn took a longer sip of his scotch. 

“Y’know, I wasn’t expecting you to stay,” He said softly, swishing his drink side to side. “No one but rats have ever stayed this long.” 

“I didn’t think I was going to stay either,” Mumbo replied, sipping the water, “I wanted to get to know you more. You- You all- I wanted to get to know everyone a bit more. Y’know? Good company you all. Chaotic, reminds me of some old friends.” 

Martyn swallowed, leaning on the bar, “I’m glad you did. I liked getting to know you too. The last few weeks have been really nice, e- especially the time we spent, just the two of us. We should- uh- do that more.” 

He was saying too much. He hadn’t even finished a glass and already had loose lips. It had to be the warm air of the bar, or Mumbo’s ridiculously infectious smile, or the dim twinkling of Christmas lights that was making him say more. (He really had grown soft.)

“You- You look good in that sweater by the way. Red really suits you,” He continued.

“Really? Cause I’m kind of growing partial to the color green these days,” Mumbo said, reaching forward and pushing aside Martyn’s Santa coat a bit to show off his green shirt underneath. The gap between them was growing ever smaller. He rested his arms on the counter, looking up into Martyn’s eyes, “That or the color blue.” 

“Don’t say things like that,” Martyn said, bordering on a whine, carefully leaning closer, “You’re going to make me start thinking things.” 

“What kind of things?” Mumbo asked back. He wasn’t pushing away, though he was looking like he was losing his nerve, “Cause- Cause I was thinking that’d I’d quite like to kiss you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case,” Martyn mumbled as he leaned fully over the bar, eyes slipping shut as Mumbo did the same.

Their lips touched. Martyn could feel Mumbo’s scrunched up nose scrunch even more as he tasted the scotch that lingered on his lips, making him smile into the kiss. Mumbo’s chest shook with the beginning of giggles as he did. 

They pulled apart, just a few inches, a laugh building up in Martyn’s chest, “Should we-” 

“NO WAY!” A voice shouted from the door, making the two of them jump apart. Martyn glanced over just long enough to see it was Tubbo before dropping behind the bar to hide. “Were you- Were you KISSING SANTA?!” 

“Was I-?” Mumbo squeaked, “Now, hold on- Hold on a minute-”

Martyn hurriedly reached for his fake beard, trying to slip it on. Not that he quite had a plan for how to remedy this situation, but he was sure he would think of something.

“You were! You were kissing Santa!” He could hear Tubbo shouting and then, unfortunately, the sound of his paws scurrying away and his voice growing further but nonetheless louder, “RATS! RATS! MUMBO WAS KISSING SANTA!” 

“Oh pants,” Mumbo said, still sitting at the bar. 

Martyn popped his head back up, beard askew on his face, watching the door for a second before looking back to Mumbo. The bat’s whole face was red. He could just barely hear the exclamations of several others outside the bar hearing the news. 

“We’re screwed,” Martyn chuckled, face in his hands to stifle the laughter, “We are so fully screwed.” 

“Pants,” Mumbo repeated, though he was laughing now too, “What are we- What are we going to do, Martyn? They think I’ve gone and kissed Santa!” “We’ll figure it out,” He reassured, once again leaning over the bar, “In the meantime, want to do it again? Kiss Santa?” “Oh, shut it,” He huffed, reaching over to pull the beard down before closing that gap once again. 

The second kiss was just as perfect as the first. 

[imagines-babes]

A/n: hello, this is my first time writing about one piece. I recently just watched started watching one piece(episode 409) and my favorite is zoro. Not that it matter I decided to write a story about him. I do hope you enjoy. :) Maybe will right more of one piece?

Who is she? (R. Zoro)

The water from the ocean was smooth. The boat is sailing smooth. Everyone decided to call it a night. While I took my shift to see if anything had changed. Being by the water feels peaceful. With all our adventuring and our fights. This is the middle ground. Sitting down on the rails to look up at the stars is pre-.

‘What are you doing?’ His voice scared me as I jumped almost falling in the water. Till I notice his arm wrapped around me. I did a nod slowly getting off the rail as I pushed him. ‘What are you doing up?’ He stared at me with a shrug. ‘I couldn’t sleep. My mind is going everywhere.’ He made his way up front of the ship. Staying silent. I tried to look back at the stars till I heard a sigh in the front of the ship. Looking over at him, for him to not even look at my way. I felt like he wanted to talk. Its not nice to have yourself overthink. Even with our last adventure. He tried to make himself stronger by swimming in the ice cold water, being under an avalanche of snow (honestly wasn’t his fault just his bad direction) , or lifting weights without a shirt. I mean I enjoy the view but that wasn’t the point. He wants to be the greatest and not wanted to be seen as weak since Mr 3 put us in wax. I felt like he blame himself for not getting us out. With all that being said, I feel like he would put his body in any position good or bad. To say I am worried is one thing. I’m more concerned.

Looking over once more, to see him stare at his swords. Walking over to the deck to sit beside him a little. For awhile there was no talk. But I wanted to talk. I wanted to ask him why he did those things. Even though I know his answer. ‘You know,’ he starts to say, ‘if you have something to say just say it.’ This was my time but still nothing came out. All I did was look up to the sky and try to form a sentence. ‘You know the stars are beautiful. I heard once from a town person that stars are people that have passed away.’ Starring at the stars once more to notice a sparkle. It sparkle reminded me of one night. Slowly moving head to look at the ocean in front of me. ‘Zoro who’s Kuian?’ Within seconds I felt the blade of his sword goes up against my neck. ‘How do you know that name!’ He says with a stern voice. ‘Once before when you were a napping long ago you started to talk. For a second I thought you were talking to me. Till you said the name. Shimotsuki Kuian’ My breathe was a mess with the blade getting closer. He stared at me with my eyes not facing his. A minute passed he moved it away. I didn’t move. I knew once I asked that question it was only two possibilities that was gonna happen.

One again, the silence took over us. Hearing the wind move the sail as the ship stays anchor. ‘She was a old friend of mine. Her and I made a promise that one of us will be the world greatest swordsman,’ he stare to a sword he has, ‘sadly she has passed. After we made that promise she fell down the stairs. I thought it was a way of breaking our deal. So I made it a vow to be the greatest.’ Hearing him take a breath. It made sense why he had pushed himself. Why he trained himself. Why he shouted out he’s sorry at the Baratie for not being the greatest. He made a vow to an old friend to be the greatest. He wasn’t gonna stop till he achieved it. ‘I know it doesn’t mean much if I say it but,’ I turn my head to look at him, ‘I know you are gonna be the greatest and you are gonna take the title away from Dracule Mihawk. I believe in you.’ With that I went off to get something to drink.

Zoro stayed where he was. He watched them walk to the kitchen. He didn’t want to tell y/n. But when they said those words to him. He felt joy in his heart. Like that was what he wanted to hear from their voice. Yeah luffy says it but when y/n says it. It felt like it was gonna happen. It was the boost he needed.



[cityandking]

spark enough to last the winter

branwen + star wars au. 2.6k for hypothermia prompted by @forcekenobi. sabine and middy belong to @snapdragonling. set loosely after this meeting. // angst prompts

Of all the ways to go, it wasn’t the one Branwen would have bet on—though stupidly, on an uninhabited world should probably have been somewhere on the list, given the sort of shit they got into these days. It wasn’t even the worst way to go, objectively speaking. It was only a little inelegant for her taste. She’d have been irate about it if she’d had the energy to spare, but irritation fueled no fires and didn’t help much with the snow or the wet or the smoldering crash pod she’d left three klicks back, dug into the icy crust of one of the planet’s massive oceans.

The cliffs hadn’t looked that far from back there, when it had been the choice between waiting for the pod to sink through the thick sheet of frozen whitecaps to the waters below or find some modicum of shelter among the rocks. Now, three klicks closer to shore, she’d realized that was because the cliffside was so fucking huge that her sense of scale had simply given it up as a bad job and fucked off, much like her rations pouch and the handy little emergency transponder she’d lost down the trough of one of the massive frozen waves.

At least she'd had the good sense to turn it on before it had gone fumbling from her numb hands. Not that it would do much good. Things had fallen apart in a spectacular fashion back on Abregado—as they often tended to do when one mixed good honest business practice with the tight squeeze of Core corruption—and they’d been forced to split and reconvene. Which was fine; the backup plan to get to Eriadu had been straightforward enough, except that the Luckrunner was with Sabine, and Enikö was somewhere in the bowels of the spaceport, and Bran’s clever ploy to hitch a ride with a crew of Barabelian longhaul shippers running the Rimma Trade Route had hit a snag when one of them found her napping in the cargo hold. It was thoughtful of them to have provided an escape pod, of course, and she’d been sure to tell them so after letting loose their cargo of live Gedonian ground weevils and fighting her way through the mess to commandeer the pod on their behalf.

So really, it was her own damn fault she’d ended up on some ice encrusted backwater halfway out of the Mid-Rim, a few hours and a prayer away from freezing to death.

"Suppose you'll say 'I told you so,'" she said to no one, or thought she said anyhow. Her lips were numb and her face stiff, and it was impossible to hear herself think over the howling gale, much less speak. And there wasn't going to be anyone around to say I told you so anyway, because of the uninhabited frozen tundra planet situation.

Staring death in the face was, as it turned out, a fairly bleak and lonely exercise.

She couldn't say how long it was before she reached the cliffs, only that she knew she had to make it, and so she did. Her feet were leaden in her shoes by then, and her hair had soaked through with snow and frozen again, so that it made a sort of ticking, tapping sound when the locks swung together. She'd even worked up something of a sweat, more than a little overheated in the standard-issue emergency parka she'd found under the jumpseat, and the only thing that kept her from taking it off was a sour, spiky voice in the back of her head that sounded remarkably like Sabine, muttering, Don't be an idiot.

"I'm hardly the idiot," Branwen retorted, struggling to catch her breath. The wind howled even worse here, butting up against the rocks and looping back on itself, but there was bare stone too, and when she squinted she could just see a ledge at about the height of her head, sheltered from the worst of it. As good a place to collapse as any.

Sure, snorted the Sabine-voice. That's why you left the nice cozy crash pod to walk across half an ocean.

"I did not. There was the thing, you know, with the." She waved a hand, then thought better of it when her grip slipped a little on the stone wall and she nearly went tumbling down again. Instead she wedged a foot in further and heaved, forcing herself up over the lip of the ledge to sprawl onto her back.

With the what?

"What? Oh. I don't recall." Just breathing hurt, though she couldn't say if that was from the landing or the cold. Pins and needles inside her lungs, throat aching. Cold, probably; she didn't think anything was broken. She blinked up at the cliff, the massive unending spur of craggy, wind-washed rock. It wavered a little above her, and she flinched automatically, but nothing fell, not even a stone.

Don't just lie there, said the Sabine-voice, peevish. You dragged yourself all the way up here, at least use the shelter.

"You've really got a way with words, love." Still, it took her another handful of heartbeats to shiver herself upright and tuck into the crevice she'd been aiming for. With her back to the stone and her knees draw up tight, the wind wasn't nearly so bad. Her head fell back against the cliffside, heavy, and it probably ought to have hurt a bit but she didn't feel much of anything besides the chill.

Well done, said the Sabine-voice. Now what?

What an excellent question. "Can't say."

Excellent plan.

"I don't see you offering suggestions."

Not nodding off, maybe.

Oh. Branwen blinked her eyes open with a mild sort of surprise. She had been a bit dozy, hadn't she? Bad idea, that; she remembered that much from her Academy training. For a moment she fumbled to pinch herself, but she couldn't feel her fingers nor her arm through the layers of cold and standard-issue parka, so that was a bit of a nonstarter. She peered out at the frozen ocean instead.

At least it wasn't storming, not really. The wind was horrible, of course, and the clouds were low and thick, and the snow pattered down in bursts, but everything was mostly just... there. It was even a little beautiful: the white, the silver, the endless ice-capped water as far as the eye could see. Not the worst place to go.

"Suppose I should have held on tighter to that transmitter," she said, mostly to have something to say. "Going to make it mighty difficult to find me."

What happened to believing in our mystical Jedi powers.

"It's hardly magic," Branwen huffed. Her breath puffed up in front of her, but even that was cold. She'd stopped shivering, she noted distantly; likely she ought to have been more troubled by that than she was. "Anyway, I don't think your life sensing bit works if I'm dead."

Maybe you should try a little harder to keep alive then.

"I'll see what I can do."

What she could do wasn't all that much, though. She pulled her arms and legs in tighter and tucked her chin down, bundled as small and warm as she could manage, but it made little difference. Her body was a distant thing, heavy and icy and dragging, and it was monstrously hard to keep her eyes open. The frozen sea danced and dimmed in front of her, and that was only partly her fading vision—it would be night eventually, and the cold would creep in and steal her away into sleep.

"It's a pity, though," she said, mouth pressed against her knee. "I did rather think you'd be with me, at least."

She felt the sigh at her ear, breathless, and Sabine said, Me too.

Bran smiled. It wasn't much of a smile, but she felt it anyway—and a touch of warmth too, somewhere deep in her chest. It was barely anything, a echoing memory of an ember, but in the overwhelming cold, it burned merry and bright.

This time, when her eyes drifted shut, Sabine didn't prod her about it. If she let herself drift, Branwen could almost imagine she really was there—a slight touch against her arm, the feel of someone wrapped around her, keeping her sheltered from the wind and the cold.

"Keep talking," she said, a senseless mumble of wasted breath. "Tell me a story."

That's your job, Sabine grumbled. But then she said, Fine. Once upon a time.

Bran would have laughed if she'd had the energy for it. Instead she only listened to the voice on the wind, carrying words she couldn't hear. Outside it roared and whined, and light flashed, and maybe there would be a storm after all. It didn't matter. She was hardly even cold anymore—only tired, so tired, and full up with Sabine's voice, a thread of warmth spooled up inside her, the last flicker of a dying star. It was a small comfort to have Sabine's presence here at the end, and Sabine's hands on her frozen cheeks, and Sabine's eyes glaring at her, and Sabine's expression twisted up with desperation as she shouted over the wind, "You bloody idiot, wake up!"

"Oh," slurred Branwen, pleased. "You're here after all."

"I'm going to kill you," said Sabine, and then behind her was Enikö too, wasn't that lovely, and a small, bright-eyed woman in a garishly orange jacket, and that was... No, wait. What?

"Oh," said Branwen again, less pleased and more confused, sluggishly trying to put two thoughts together and coming up with six, or perhaps negative one. "Sorry. What's going on?"

"Stop trying to talk," said Sabine, who was not telling her a story nor wrapped around her nor a voice in her head, but a real and solid thing, nose and cheeks pink and eyes dark and sharp as knapped flint. "And keep your damned eyes open. Kid, the medbay—"

"Yes," said Enikö, and his head disappeared, and Branwen tracked him blearily to a familiar bulwark of silver metal parked precariously on the ice, which was even more confusing. What was the Luckrunner doing here?

"This can't possibly be the afterlife."

"Stop talking," Sabine said, sharp with something that must have been exasperation but looked surprisingly like fear. "Just— Let me work."

Bran had no idea what she meant by that, but then came a wash of— She didn't know the word for it. It was the feeling of the jump to lightspeed, and also the shape of her mother's smile, and also the everyday wonder of waking up to Sabine lying next to her. It was the first sip of Corellian brandy and the relief of seeing Enikö step out of the caves on Ilum with a crystal cupped in his palms and the adrenaline rush of a close escape. And it was the world entire, the whole of the galaxy, and also the simple, familiar feeling of Sabine's hands against her face, one with the Force, buoying her.

Branwen stopped talking. There was nothing more she could have said.

It took all three of them to help her down from her craggy ledge—Sabine and Enikö and the bright orange-jacket woman they'd collected along the way. The medbay was ready for her when they got her into the ship, and she was grateful to miss the sting and stink of the bacta when they slid her into the tank, and afterwards she slept long and hard and woke to Sabine at her bedside.

She looked as though she'd fallen asleep, head hug low, except her eyes were open and bright and sharp when Bran met them, and all the clever things she'd meant to say evaporated on her tongue, and in their place Branwen said, "Are you alright?"

"You're asking me?"

Branwen gave her a look, pointed. She looked like she hadn't slept—which was not an unusual look for her, but was more unusual these days. Sabine shook her head and snorted, then shrugged as though heaving off some great weight.

"I heard you," she said, blunt, and made a face that Branwen couldn't read. "Felt you. When you were down there. In the Force."

"Oh. That's... unusual?"

Sabine snorted again, which was a yes. Branwen hummed and sank back against the pillows.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Branwen turned the idea of it over in her head, but she knew little of the Force, and minded its meanings even less. If Sabine said it was strange it was, but it wasn't exactly her strangeness to bother about.

The harried, hunted glint in Sabine's eye, though—

"I'm alright," she said. "It was an impressive rescue operation."

Sabine made another face, a worse one, and Branwen struggled to sit upright. Sabine grumbled at her and helped with the pillows anyway, and Branwen caught her hand before she could pull it away.

"If it's a bad thing, the Force bit—"

"It isn't." She took a deep breath, bracing. "I— It reminded me of— I would prefer not to feel that again."

Branwen took a long, careful breath around the sudden, welling grief. It was a familiar thing by now, and only half hers—but the trouble with loving a Jedi was that it was impossible to only love one of them alone, when they were too tangled in each other to ever be wholly unraveled.

"I'm sorry." She meant it, deeply and fully.

Sabine nodded, and then she said, "It will happen again."

Branwen couldn't deny that. It wasn't just them, after all. It was them and also the deal Branwen had made to a man with a starbird patch on his sleeve that echoed the symbol of the Order, wings raised in flight. The promise to strive for something better than any one of them. That part Branwen wasn't sorry about.

"I'll be more careful."

"No you won't."

"Of course I will. No more solo escape pods."

"If that's your way of warning me next time you'll be exiting a ship without an escape pod—"

"I think they call that disembarking. Most people do it after landing."

"You're not most people."

"How sweet of you to say," Branwen preened, but then she sobered and squeezed Sabine's hand. "Turned out fine, yeah?"

"If you call six hours in a bacta bath fine."

"Could have been worse." Sabine had been in far worse positions, Branwen didn't point out—that was ammunition for another time, not now, not the sliver of tender fear being so cleanly, clearly offered. "A dashing Jedi came to save me."

Sabine didn't roll her eyes, but somehow she perfectly gave off the impression that she could have, and still might. Warmth flashed in Branwen again, a deep and welling and endless thing, spark enough to tide her through a year of winter nights.

"And I supposed Nikö was there too. And— I feel terrible, I didn't catch her name. The orange one. Are we picking up strays again?"

"Hardly we," Sabine said. "The kid made a friend."

Branwen's eyebrows climbed up into her hairline. "Oh?"

"Ask him about it," she said, but her expression was all smugness, which was a delight. And to think, she could have missed this.

"I will. Help me up? I'd die for a cup of caf."

"Please don't," Sabine said, but she eased an arm around Branwen's waist and helped her out of the medbay and into the galley, where Enikö and the orange woman—whose name was Middy, who had helped them off Abregado, who had a familiar sort of keenness about her—waited for them.

[thedastrash]

WIP Wednesday!

Now that my exchange pieces are waiting for Arlathan and Templartations reveals... time to pull out some huge WIPs I've been ignoring and see if I can poke at them until some plot falls out. Here's a chunk of Varric that I like, but I'm not sure where it lives yet. Tags below the cut as usual.

--

Wind howled over the Frostbacks, piling snow drifts against the windward side of every building in Haven. The tent Varric had been given was surprisingly large which meant it was also drafty. He was able to set up a small table and a stool within the canvas walls, but the wax wasn’t enough to keep out the wind. Snowflakes blew in under the walls, wind threatened to whip his papers out from beneath his quill, and his fingers grew numb from the chill. 

Perhaps that was enough writing for the evening. Placing his work away carefully, where snow couldn’t dampen its corners, he pulled on his leather jacket. Not the best for the weather, but he didn’t get a chance to pack up when he was forcibly hauled out of Kirkwall on a death march to this frigid rock. At least it was his favorite jacket. And it had nice runes. Thank you Sandal.

“Fucking mountains. Nothing but ice and death,” he grumbled to himself as he pulled his gloves on. He braced himself, but the wind when he opened the tent still made him clench his jaw. All his warmth seemed to evaporate from beneath the collar of his jacket and his ears immediately felt raw and miserable. He should find a scarf, or maybe a hat, from the supplies, but his dignity wouldn’t let him. He’d rather be fashionable than warm.

Cassandra stood like a statue in the training yard, watching Cullen work with the recruits. This was her fault really. She’d kidnapped Varric from Kirkwall and interrogated him for days. He made sure she knew it too. 

“Nice weather we’re having,” Varric quipped from behind her.

Cassandra didn’t even flinch, though she couldn’t have heard him approach. He was far too stealthy to be caught out like that, even in the snow. She turned her head and merely grunted her agreement with a slight furrow to her brow. Always suspicious, the Seeker.

“Couldn’t the Inquisition hole up on a beach somewhere? I hear Rivain is lovely this time of year,” Varric tried again.

Cassandra wasn’t having any of his good humor today. “You are free to go.”

“I will hold those words dear,” Varric laughed. “How I’ve longed to hear them from your lips.”

A small noise of disgust came from Cassandra’s throat before she stalked off to speak to Cullen. Varric wondered if she was staying warm through sheer stubbornness. Her armor seemed better suited to a lower elevation, less ice, more bodies on the ground. Maybe her wrath kept her warm.

Varric made his way into the warmth of the chantry. Appropriate to have taken over a chantry for the dubious organization of the Inquisition. The fires were banked low, but the sheer number of people inside helped warm it up considerably. The air was moist with evaporating puddles and the breath of huddled people in conversation. The camp had been fairly jolly after the last success on the Storm Coast. The Chargers had cheered things up with their irreverent celebrations and their get shit done kind of attitude. The Iron Bull and company were Varric’s kind of people - loud and drunk and bloody. It made him miss Kirkwall if he didn’t keep busy.

No pressure tags: @author-a-holmes | @silvanils | @noire-pandora | @knuttydraws | @raflesia65 | @retrowondergirl | @morganlefaye79 | @charlatron | @kittynomsdeplume | @kemvee | @a-shakespearean-in-paris | @jentrevellan | @isk4649 | @charmcity-jess | @cleverblackcat @dismalzelenka @sulky-valkyrie @dalish-rogue @pierogipie @anderstrevelyan @favorofthewater @anatidae-dragonage @midnightprelude @highwayphantoms @transandersrights @jellydishes @syrupwit @captaincadash @barbex @potatowitch @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul @glowing-blue-feathermage and anyone else who would like to share <3 Tag me so I can see what you're up to!!

[l0vergirlatheart]

HOLIDAY SPECIAL&lt;333

content warnings; yan. themes in G.I, OMORI spoilers, angst + slight time change in OMORI section,

req. by; none

chars. fandoms used; G.I, OMORI

song of the day; Brutus - The Buttress

a/n; no im not writing this the day before christmas wdym... also i focused on the mondstat chars. and sunny if u couldnt tell

by continuing from this point on you understand that it is your fault if you see any opinions that you do not agree with and that make you mad. you will not take it out on me or anyone else who enjoys/agrees with them, and you especially will not do anything illegal/dangerous to them or myself.

images do not belong to me and belong to their rightful owners.

by continuing from this point on you understand that it is your fault if you see any opinions that you do not agree with and that make you mad. you will not take it out on me or anyone else who enjoys/agrees with them, and you especially will not do anything illegal/dangerous to them or myself.

GENSHIN IMPACT - CREATOR!READER

LOCATION - ???

Sneaking away from your throne, you ran out into the snowfall, staring up at it happily. Something that wasn’t overwhelming or demanding; it was peaceful. Snowflakes fell onto your eyelashes, messing with a little bit of your sight, but you didn’t mind. You were starting to get cold though. Maybe you should’ve grabbed a jacket beforehand, you thought, rubbing your hands up and down your arms in an attempt to keep yourself warm. As you were thinking and staring up at the snow, you felt something fall onto your shoulders. You jumped, and turned around to see a jacket-less Diluc looking (up/down/straight) at you.

He looked at the draped jacket across your shoulders and asked, “Are you planning to stare at me or to put the jacket on correctly?” 

He didn’t mean to sound sarcastic - it was a genuine question, and it did make you put the jacket on correctly, whether it fit you or not. His face heated up a bit seeing you really wearing his clothes, but it was only slightly visible. He looked like he wasn’t panicking, but his thoughts were consumed by the image of you, Our Grace, wearing some acolytes’ jacket, and it was his. He just wanted to--

"UWAH!"

His thoughts were cut off when he heard you yelp and snapped his previously slightly-hanging-low head to look at you, he saw that you were being carried up by a wind current from pretty much nowhere.

"Your Grace!" He called out, reaching a hand up to grab yours, but you were much too high, and he wasn't tall enough (for once) to.

"Don't worry Diluc, I've got 'em!" A voice called out, and you turned to see Venti flying alongside you, lyre in hand. Diluc shook his head in disappointment at the bard, quickly realizing he had summoned the current.

He gave Venti a glare hard enough to slice Dragonspine in half and threatened him, "If I even see a scratch on Your Grace, I'm going to rip you and that godforsaken lyre."

Venti only gave him a cheeky smile and said, "See you there!" as he grabbed your hand and flew away with you, and you still had no idea where you were going. You didn't have a chance to ask because by the time you were going to, Venti cut you off.

"It's snowing! It barely ever snows in Mondstat, and you said something about having a holiday this time of year in your world, didn't you?" You were surprised he remembered, but it wasn't anything to be surprised by.

He listened to everything you said, they all did. Anything and everything, all your orders, complaints, rambles, cries, pleads, everything. They would remember, even if you didn't. You were their creator, after all.

"Y-yeah, why?" You asked, stuttering from the winds' breeze.

"Good! It was called Christmas, wasn't it? With a large tree decorated with ornaments and presents underneath?" He said, speaking it as a question, though he needed no answer. You nodded, and his smile grew as he looked ahead towards Mondstat.

LOCATION - MONDSTAT

"Close your eyes, Your Grace!" He said cheerfully, so you did. Venti slowly lowered you two, and you felt your feet slowly land on the floor. He still held your hand though, and you could hear silent whispers all around you.

"You can open your eyes, Your Grace!" He exclaimed, squeezing your hand slightly. You slowly opened your eyes, and as soon as you did, yells of celebration spread throughout the crowd infront of you. There was all of Mondstat infront of you, all dressed in red, green, white, and even combinations of all of them. The front row had the KOF (+Diluc and the Traveler,) and standing infront were Jean and Lisa. In the back were the people of not only Mondstat, but even from Liyue, Inazuma, and Sumeru.

"Merry Christmas!" They all yelled in unison, and Jean motioned for you to turn around. Behind you was one of the largest Christmas trees you'd ever seen, beautifully decorated and surrounded by colorful presents with tags of many names. You started to tear up a bit, it reminded you so much of the good parts of your home world. A hand was placed on your shoulder, and you looked to see Traveler giving you a small, reassuring smile. You gave him a smile back, and looked back up at the tree.

You had a good time in MONDSTAT, and that's all they wanted.

OMORI (RW) - AFFECTIONATE!READER

LOCATION - FARAWAY TOWN, HOSPITAL

"I wish we didn't have to spend Christmas in the hospital, but it is what is, isn't it?" You said, a sad smile on your face, looking at SUNNY in the bed. He was asleep, but you reached your hand out and grabbed his softly. Everyone else had left to see BASIL, but you weren't ready to see him yet. You weren't ready to leave SUNNY alone.

"I wish you were awake." You mumbled, bringing his hand up to your cheek, leaning your head into it. Tears slowly flew down your face and some onto his hand, your smile drooping into a frown.

"Why are we always the unlucky ones, SUNNY? Why is this happening to us?" You cried silently, your head hanging low. Suddenly, you felt his hand rub your face, and you flinched. You looked up at him quickly, and you saw him looking at you with those usually empty eyes, that now had concern and even regret in them if you looked close enough.

"S-SUNNY! Y-you're awake!" You exclaimed, grabbing his hand and intertwining it with yours. He was startled for a second, but then, he gave you the smallest smile ever. You saw, and you gave him the biggest grin you could.

"Merry Christmas, SUNNY.." You whispered to him, as if if you raised your voice, he'd fall back asleep. He sat up and hesitantly removed his hand from yours. You looked at him confused, and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed closest to you. You realized he was going to get up and were about to stop him, but he had already jumped down from it and was a little wobbly, but stood up straight anyways.

"SUNNY! You need to rest, you just--" He cut your sentence off with a hug. His arms wrapped underneath your arms, holding you close to him, as if you were to disappear any moment now. You snaked your arms around him too, placing your head into his (hair/neck.)

You two stayed like that for a long while until he pulled away and looked at the door.

"...Do you want to go see BASIL and the others..?" You asked quietly. He stood still for a moment, and then he slowly nodded. You removed your arms from him slowly, and stood up. You looked down at his hand and grabbed it again, just as gently as the last time, and you two left the room together in comfortable silence.

You didn't know what was going to happen in BASIL's room, but you knew it wasn't going to be the best, and you wanted to be happy with SUNNY at least before everything changed. So you did.

"Here we are." You said as you stood infront of the closed door that lead to BASIL's room.

"Are you ready?" You asked, looking at SUNNY, who was staring directly at the door, like he was trying to see through it. He nodded, and you opened the door, preparing for whatever may happen behind it.

There was AUBREY, KEL, and HERO sitting around BASIL, who was awake in his bed, and they looked at you two, surprised.

SUNNY gripped your hand tighter, and took a deep breath before saying, "I need to tell you something."

He told the truth. He said it with a straight face, but he he was holding onto your hand like his life depended on it. Were you going to leave him? Yell? Cry? Would you blame him? Would you stay? What would happen to him? To BASIL? To you?

You held onto his hand, and you were looking at him in shock, tears in your eyes, but you stayed. HERO walked straight past him, crying in disbelief and disappointment. KEL had to hold AUBREY back and drag her out of the room, and BASIL was surprised that SUNNY would really tell them, and surprised you stayed. You looked down at the floor after everyone had left, and SUNNY and BASIL looked at you.

What were you going to do?

[coupsie-daisies]

The Things I Would Do (The Beauty Mark of Love) | Lee Felix

Pairing: Elven Prince!Lee Felix x Fae Prince!GN Reader

Genre: Fantasy AU, Royalty AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers (light), Hurt/Comfort

Summary: The war is centuries old, and Felix is determined to put an end to it at all costs. A wedding was in his plans, but falling in love was most certainly not. He, however, takes it much better than his fiance does.

Word Count: 30k (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Cussing, Mentioned Parental Death, Felix is really really in love, They argue, several mentions of war, fae centric racism?

A/N: This was written as a part of the clownracha secret santa fic exchange for @sunnytaes​. I got a little carried away so it’s quite long, and there might be some smaller pieces with this couple in the future

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18​ // @ferrethyun​ // @tyungun​ // @brownieracha​ // @kwanisms​ // @snow-pegasus​

Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/hobi-is-golden, reposting on any platform without explicit permission is prohibited

Oh the things I would do

To be loved by someone as beautiful,

And thrilling, and true

As you are, my love.

I would clip my wings

And forfeit my freedom,

I'd bring you anything you crave.

I would give up the air from my lungs

If it would make you love me,

Even if only for a moment

The walls of the Fae castle stretched tall, shimmering in the mid-day light in a way that was nothing short of magical.. The stone was polished so bright that Felix's reflection on it seemed to dance as he walked. A few of the palace guards were surrounding him though, so it was hard to see it in any substantial way.

He could feel the disdain in the air as they spoke to each other. It was a language he didn't recognize, but it sounded absolutely mesmerizing. He caught himself tensing up at the sound of it. Not knowing what was being said about him made his worries spike. But he wasn't a quitter, and he was well aware that he could very well be marching towards his own death. He wouldn’t have come if he hadn’t at least partially come to terms with that fact.

"Stay," One of the guards ordered. Felix nodded quietly, watching two of the men pass through the looming double doors in front of them. They should have made a noise, slammed shut behind them or something, but the sound was something akin to the flutter of a flag in a breeze. Quiet, smooth, and light as a feather. He couldn't help his fascination. Everything about the Fae realm was a mystery, sans the maps he'd seen in his father's war meetings. It looked nothing like those lifeless maps in person.

He'd been thinking about it his entire travel through the country, it was nothing like what he'd imagined it to be. The city was beautiful, buildings that towered tall and immaculately sculpted, yet somehow wholly welcoming. The streets felt like they’d simply grown from the earth, some cobblestone and inlaid with gems, and some just bare, beaten down dirt paths.

The halls of the palace were silent as the group waited for Felix to be welcomed through the doors, eerily so given how many of them there were. But Felix wasn't in a hurry to break the silence. His people were already not favored by the Fae, and he was pushing his luck by showing up out of the blue like he was.

It may have been mere moments before the gleaming doors opened again, but it felt like eons had passed. A voice spoke, calling him to enter, low and twinkling like the wooden wind chimes they had back home. He listened, pushing out a slow exhale and running through all of the rules he'd been taught growing up. Do not speak unless spoken to lest you speak over and offend. Don't make any sudden movements, keep your hands where they can be seen so you cannot be blamed for any attacks you haven't caused. Speak directly, the Fae are tricky creatures, but they're honest to a fault.

"You are a brave one, son of the Elves. Coming here unannounced and requesting a hearing with a busy king." The voice came again, booming from the creature seated at the far opposite of the young prince. He looked deceivingly young, hardly thirty in human years. But the Fae lived even longer than Felix's people, and the King was surely over three hundred years old. Felix inclined his head silent thanks for the praise. Brave, he thought, or incredibly foolish. He feared he'd find out which one soon enough.

Guards lined the room, and it had him on edge knowing that they were just waiting for him to make one wrong move. He knew better than to look at them. He looked at the King instead, who straightened on his throne, drawing the moment out, watching the prince with a fiery gaze.

"Can I offer you anything? You must surely need rest after such long travels." The king said after a few moments. Felix smiled politely.

"Your kindness is most appreciated, your majesty, and I give my utmost apologies, but I have to decline. I'm afraid I can’t stay any longer than necessary. And I also give my apologies for disrupting your busy schedule." He bowed his head for a long moment. The king made a soft hum, but not one of disdain. If nothing else, Felix's politeness and respect was surprising coming from an Elven born royal.

"Then I will not keep you. What is it you've come for?" He asked.

"I have come to seek an audience with your prince, if you will allow it." He looked up, watching emotion flicker over the man's face. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what it was, something skating dangerously close to rage. Felix's heart leapt into his throat. He had a terrible feeling that he might have stepped into something he shouldn't have. But he had to do what was necessary for his people, and if it meant that he fell at the hands of the fae folk, then so be it.

"Who are you to speak with my child?" The king asked sharply, his voice no longer as melodious as it had been at first, now more like sandpaper against Felix's eardrums.

"I come as the future ruler of one nation seeking the alliance of the future ruler of yours. I wish no ill intent, and have brought no weapons with me into your presence. I simply ask for a few moments of their time, your highness, it would be deeply appreciated to have an opportunity to speak with them." He said, his voice steady with confidence that he surely wasn't feeling in that moment.

Felix was a prince, trained in the art of diplomacy since before he was old enough to pronounce the word, but there was something about standing in front of a king who had nothing but contempt for your people that would send a chill down anyone's spine. Even more so when he had no one to turn to if things went awry.

"If you're here to make alliances for your country, you're better to do them with me, young prince." The words were said with an edge, and Felix held his breath. "You have no business with my child. I will not grant your request."

"I'd like to hear him out, father,"

Felix's head jerked to the source of the voice without his permission, watching as you stood up from your seat to your father's right. He hadn't even noticed you to begin with. You looked almost bored with the interaction, but your eyes held a curious glint that was impossible to miss as you looked at him.

"No. Not unless he can give an explanation for his coming here unannounced with no proper reason to speak to you." Your father waved his hand dismissively, and a few guards stepped forward to escort Felix out of the room. And despite his high hopes for this interaction, Felix would take a polite escort out over becoming public enemy number one of the fae realm.

"He cannot give a good reason without an opportunity. I ask you to reconsider and allow him a few minutes to speak with me," You continued to press on. You held your head high, a confidence that Felix had nothing but respect for. Your father looked at you, and the sparking glare shared by the two of you lasted so long that Felix was half worried the room might ignite.

There was a silent conversation there, a challenge, or maybe a plea. But eventually your father looked away. He turned back to Felix with an intensity that almost made him shrink in on himself.

"You have my blessing. Remember your place, little prince." He said, and he stood. You stepped forward ahead of him, striding towards the elven prince with a grace that almost made it look like you were floating. When you were face to face with him, you bowed your head ever so slightly. A smile rose onto your face, and it made Felix uneasy. Something about it felt too sly, too curious.

"Shall we go somewhere more private, your highness?" You asked, already sweeping past him towards the doors behind him. And although he was relieved that you were playing nice with him and not doing the unthinkable, part of him was wounded that you had enough pride in your power to turn your back on someone who could only be dubbed the enemy.

Even so, despite the bruised ego and the fear that lingered in the back of his mind, Felix bowed to the king and turned to follow your lead. As you reached the doors, you waved off the two guards that attempted to lead the way.

"Have a bit of faith in my ability. I think I can handle an unarmed Elf. Though I trust it won't come to that," You said. The guards eyed him, and then stepped out of the way, allowing him to continue following behind him.

You were silent as you walked, never looking back at him. The hall you turned down wasn't the one he'd been brought in, though it looked similar enough that he probably would have gotten lost had he been on his own. So he followed you closely for fear of getting left behind.

He looked you over, half sizing you up, half subduing his own curiosity. In truth, he'd never been this close to a Faerie for so long before in his life. The Fae were uncommon visitors back home, which his people didn't mind whatsoever, and he'd never seen such a fascinating creature.

Every move you made was like a dance, elegant and mesmerizing, each step silent against the stone of the floors. Your hair seemed to catch a breeze that he couldn't feel if you moved just right, falling to frame your face. The very sight of you taunted mischief and wildness that he'd never seen before. And if he looked close enough, the air was distorted at your back, shimmering in fractals of light as if through a kaleidoscope. Wings, barely there to the blind eye as they caught the light.

"Do you have a staring problem, your highness? Is there something I can do for you?" You asked, finally looking over your shoulder. He startled, and you laughed. The sound was unusual, a magical sound that made him smile and sent a sort of anxiety coursing through him all at once.

"I've never seen a faerie's wings before." He admitted, avoiding the question. You nodded in understanding, and the light shifted as your wings fluttered. You were showing off, proudly so. "They're pretty."

You didn't speak again, instead opening a door and welcoming him inside.

"We can speak freely here. This is my council room. Sit, please." You pulled out a chair at the long table that sat at the center of the room. Felix took a seat as well, folding his hands on the table where you could see them. You were relaxed in his presence, and he didn't know how he should be feeling about that. But regardless of the personal emotions that it may stir up, it meant that you weren't going to attack him just yet.

"Your presence is appreciated, I worried I wouldn't get to speak with you after coming all this way," He said, carefully picking his words.

"And what is it that you've come for?" You asked him bluntly. He looked at his hands before promptly looking back at you.

"I ask for your understanding, but I have to be straight forward. I have come to ask for your hand in marriage. To propose an agreement of sorts," He said. You looked at him, brows furrowed. He swallowed down his worries about your reaction and continued. "Our people have been at war for centuries, and it's done more harm than good. The hatred between our people lies with our ancestors, so I ask you to consider my proposal to be a treaty. We can do so much good by uniting our kingdoms."

"Do you think that uniting our people would be so easy as a marriage of what? Convenience?" You asked him. "Think of the harm that it could bring, the uprisings that could begin."

He hesitated, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he worked out where to go next.

"Do you want our countries to be at war forever? If we don't end it, who can we expect to? It's gone on long enough, I think. I just ask you to consider putting an end to it with me."

Felix leaned forward, looking at you seriously, and you looked back. The quiet was deafening as you both stared each other down. His persistence was interesting, not like most people who came seeking your time, and certainly not like those that came seeking your father's. And he sounded sincere, carrying genuine worry for his people. You understood that.

You tsked and leaned back in your seat.

"Your kind always think they know what's best for everyone," You said. It wasn't a lie, that was all you ever heard about the elves, that they were a persistent, stuck-up sort of people. That they had no respect for the thoughts of those they deemed to be below them. Felix bristled, and you held up your hands in surrender. "That's not an insult. You've given me much to consider."

He seemed to relax at that, it was common knowledge that you couldn't lie, and he seemed to take your words at face value. You wondered if this offer was some trick, a twisted truth to draw you and your home into a vulnerable situation. There were several things that could come of promising your hand to this prince, and you had many responsibilities to worry about.

"I'll consider your offer. Return in a weeks time, we can discuss this further and I will give you an answer." You stood in a sweeping motion, bowing to him and motioning him towards the doors. "Come. My father will want to see you off, I imagine."

You lead him back to the throne room where your father and his guards were eagerly and ever so impatiently awaiting his return. Once in their presence, you gave him that same sly smile, promising to give his proposal some thought before he was due to come back, and promising him a much warmer welcome on his next visit.

He was already being shown out of the room as you finished, but he stole a glance over his shoulder, watching as you sunk into your own throne and met his eye. He could only hope that your answer would be beneficial for both of your homes.

The next few days were a lot to handle. Your father was down your throat, trying his best to wiggle information out of you about what your visitor could have possibly wanted from you. But your decision was very much still up in the air, and you didn't want to taint that by having unwanted input, especially from your father. He was a good man, you knew that as well as you knew your own name, but he had been born into a society with closed minded views, and that's not what you wanted for your future, or the future of your land.

But going it alone wasn't as easy as it was made out to be, and after a few days the weight of your future was weighing heavier than ever. So you turned to the only person you ever knew to turn to.

"Binnie, I need help," You said, barreling towards the training ranges. Changbin looked up from where he'd been training, wiping his forehead and crossing his arms over his chest with a smile that could be described as nothing but charming.

"Good to see you too, your highness," He teased. "Lovely day, I know. I'm having a wonderful morning, thanks for asking."

You glared at him, and he laughed. Changbin was the closest thing to a brother that you had growing up. He was the son of a man quite close to your parents, and the two of you had run around together since you were able to run.

“Please, I'm being serious. I need your advice." You begged. He sat down in the grass, motioning for you to join him. You sighed, flopping to the ground in the least graceful way you could have, folding your hands in your lap.

"Speak, then." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. You nodded, searching for the right words to say. You knew Changbin, and if you told him straight out what the problem you were facing was, he'd talk you out of marrying Felix, and take his disapproval to your father for good measure.

"If you were presented with two options, and one would cause problems, but the other would leave a bigger problem unresolved...which option would you pick?" You asked him. He hummed, rolling the question over in his head.

"So the first option would solve one problem, but cause others? And the second option wouldn't cause problems, but also wouldn't solve one?" He confirmed. You nodded. He looked at you, but you kept your eyes trained on the patch of grass between the two of you. "Is this about the prince from the Elven lands?"

You swallowed, not responding. Your silence was an answer in and of itself.

"You wouldn't look so down if you didn't know what you needed to do. You've never had any trouble following your heart. And you know I'll be at your side no matter what you decide to do." He reached out, patting your arm and stood up, brushing the dirt from his pants. "Get up, you have two more days before you have to talk to anyone else about this. Let's go do something fun for once."

Changbin's advice stuck in your head for the next couple of days. He knew you, and he was, as much as you hated to admit it, right this time around. You were sure which decision was the right one, and you had been seeking out someone to tell you that it was okay to pick the other one.

But it wasn't okay, and deep under whatever grief you were beginning to feel, you knew that. How could you justify picking a life of freedom for yourself when it meant taking that freedom from thousands of others. You simply couldn't stomach that. So you swallowed your pride, your hopes and dreams, and resigned yourself to your choice.

When Felix arrived in the early afternoon, he was greeted with less hostility than he was the first time around. Though there wasn't any more fanfare than before, and he could feel the distrust in the air as he was escorted through the castle once again. He took in the same sights, the walls that seemed to radiate a glistening, dancing light. The floors that gave the impression of water running over stones like they did in the creeks and rivers back home. The ever-fluttering breeze through the halls, and the polished marble pillars.

He was stopped outside the doors to the throne room, and this time it only took a breaths length for the doors to swing open, a voice announcing his presence as if he were an honored guest. Something about that gave him hope as he stepped into the room and the doors fell shut behind him.

The guards still lined the room, all looking at him as if he were a fearsome warrior. The doors were all blocked off by men much larger than he'd imagined faeries could be. Had they done that before? He returned his attention to the front of the room where your father's throne sat empty. Instead you were seated on your own, waiting for him. To your right stood two men. The first was well recognized as your right hand man and personal protection order. On the other side of him stood a taller man, his build a little slighter, but still all muscle. He wasn't as easily recognized. Felix assumed him to be a member of your court.

He made a sweeping bow as he had the first time he'd met you, and you watched him. The way his limbs splayed out in pure, trained elegance, his head lowered in respect. You liked seeing him this way, none of that irksome confidence you'd seen before.

"Welcome back, Prince Felix," You said, a sign for him to rise and face you properly. He first lifted his head, a charming smile playing on his lips, one that didn't quite meet his eyes.

"It's always a pleasure, your highness. Thank you for seeing me again." He straightened up properly and you nodded.

"Right, well, I know you're here for an answer, but it would be awfully unkind for me to not offer you anything. A drink maybe, or some rest? Our guest chambers are lovely if you need some rest. It's a long way from where you come from." You offered him politely. He smiled.

"The offer is most appreciated, but I really think it’s better if we get right to things. After all, if things go the way I can only hope they will, we'll have much to discuss. And it would be a shame to inconvenience you by putting that off." He said. You had to admit that you too would much rather get the entire deal out of the way.

"Very well, then." You shifted, straightening up even further in your seat and smoothing your hands over your lap. "I've given your question a great deal of thought, and weighed the options."

You paused, taking a breath, and Felix shifted his weight, not lifting his eyes to meet yours. You weren't sure if it was meant as a sign of disrespect or simply one of worry. Your exhale was slow as you pushed down your own frustration. This wasn't what you'd expected from your life, but as a prince, difficult decisions had to be made.

"I will accept your marriage proposal."

The room felt like it was spinning with how quickly Felix snapped his head up to look at you. He had hoped and prayed that you'd accept his proposal, that the two of you could work together to make things better for your peoples, but to have you actually say it seemed like something he'd never planned for. In truth, he hadn't figured out what would come after this. First and foremost you'd have to tell your father, which was going to be another day, or week, or eternity of his head being laid on the chopping block.

"I’m very grateful for the opportunity to grow together," He said, bowing to you again. You waved him off.

"None of that, you don't need to bow to me all of the time. We are equals, I guess." You stood, bowing to him for the first time. You walked the path to where he was standing and offered him a smile. "Come, we have a lot to discuss, and I think better on the move."

You motioned for the guards to leave you be, all except for your personal guard. Changbin followed from a distance, far enough away that you could speak easily but not so far that he couldn’t keep an eye on you. You trusted him with your life, and now with so much on the line, you had no worries about any misbehavior on your new fiance's part.

You walked with him, not in front but beside, a show of respect between equals as you guided him through your home, weaving deeper into the castle. The entire castle was looming, winding halls that had Felix practically spinning in circles trying to take it all in.

"Do you like it? The castle?" You asked him after a long period of silence. He nodded.

"It's not like back home. It's lovely." He said. You seemed appeased by his answer.

"There's a lot to be discussed. What we expect from marriage. And how to get it past the officials. There will be hoops to jump through. I know my father won't be pleased. He's not your biggest fan." You mused. Felix cleared his throat. He certainly knew that much.

"And my parents will want to put it to the council. I have an idea, though. If I can win your father's approval."

You looked at him, taking in his delicate features from a different angle than you had before, and the way his blonde hair fell in waves. He looked elven, the hint of his ears that poked through his hair didn't help to disguise that. Another hurdle along the way. How to convince your court and country that you'd be better off marrying the enemy rather than one of the many suitors of your own kind, or at least someone who fought on your side of the war.

"And what's that idea of yours?" You asked. Felix leaned closer casually, turning so that he was practically whispering into your ear.

"We convince them we're in love."

You stopped in your tracks, your head whipping to check that your friend was far enough away to not pick up on the conversation. You crossed your arms over your chest and furrowed your brow in absolute annoyance. He turned to look at you, tipping his head for you to voice your concerns.

"A lie? Your highness, I'm sure you're aware who you're speaking to. My people cannot lie." You snapped, still keeping your voice quiet. He straightened at the sharpness in your tone, his entire posture turning defensive.

"Don't misunderstand, I'm not implying that we lie. It's more of a trick, really." He argued.

"A trick implies that the truth will come out. And just how will that help our cause? If your people think that I have lied to them they'll make no hesitation to kill me. And then what? Your people will be wiped out in two seconds flat if they lay a finger on me. My friends alone will make sure of that." You were fuming now. You'd agreed to his crazy plan of marriage in the first place, and now he was presenting you with irresponsible and downright dangerous plans to make it work.

"Y/N, calm down." Changbin called from behind you. You glared at him over your shoulder, and he gave you a nod. You huffed, taking a step back. The prince looked at you still, something between irritation and amusement flickering across his face.

"Is that to say that you won't fall in love with me, my prince?" He asked, the name falling from his lips and making your eyes go wide. "Or that your people would so easily conquer mine?"

You clenched your fists. Oh how you wanted to wipe that look off of his face.

"But really, my people won't find out until after we've married, and there will be little they can do to stop me then. Put your faith in me like I'm putting mine in you. We can make this work, but that would require us both to keep a level head."

"I've made no promises to put my trust in you, Felix. Only to spend the rest of my life with you. Don't mistake those to be the same thing."

The tension between you and Felix had been heated ever since you realized what his plan entailed. But you had made your decision, and no matter how bothersome the path may be, the end results would be worth it if you could just pull this off. You had, however, decided fairly quickly that you weren't a fan of the prince's attitude. He was too confident, and he seemed to be taking things much too lightly. Especially when one misstep could land the both of you in serious trouble.

"Stay for a few days. We can have clothes bought for you, and we can send word to your family." You suggested, standing up from the table in your meeting room. Felix nodded, standing up as well. "I suggest we tell my father about the engagement at dinner. He won't be happy, but food tends to appease him best. I'll have Jisung show you to the guest wing."

"You could show me," He said, and you couldn't decipher the tone in his voice, teasing or flirtation or just his way of egging you on. You glared and he laughed. "I'm teasing you, your highness. I'll see you at dinner,"

He tipped his head before following you out of the room.

"Jisung, show the prince to his room please." You said.

"And thank you?" Jisung asked playfully. You cracked a smile, something you immediately regretted after trying to stay firm with Felix.

"And thank you. Now go," You huffed. Jisung poked your shoulder a few times as he passed you, and Felix gave you an amused smile that you met with a scowl.

"Best behavior at dinner, your highness." You warned him. He held his hands up in submission. You sighed, running a hand over your face, a motion that made Changbin laugh.

"Do you want to hear what I think?" He asked once Jisung had led Felix down the hall and out of sight. You rolled your eyes and looked at your best friend.

"Actually, I can't say that I do. But I think you're going to tell me anyway because that wasn't a real question." You said, beginning to walk back towards your own room. Changbin followed without hesitation.

"I think you may have met your match, your highness." There was that annoying name again, always teasing from him. You rolled your eyes. "Probably for the best if you're going to marry him, don't you think? I don't imagine you'll ever be bored."

You scoffed.

"Bored and happy sounds better than never bored but eternally suffering," You told him.

"If you're going to be so miserable, then why are you doing this?" He asked gently, grabbing your arm and guiding you back to him so you couldn't simply walk away and avoid his question. You swallowed down the bitter taste, the building frustration that would inevitably amount in tears or shouting.

"Because nobody since the beginning of this war has done anything to help our people, and I can't allow it to go on. People have been dying, and suffering, and resenting my family line because of a petty grudge. If I have to bite the bullet for the sake of everything I hold in my hands, then I have to be the one to pull the trigger."

Changbin looked at you for a long moment, the air thick as he watched you blink back tears. You didn't want to marry Felix, you didn't want to give up your freedom like that for the next several hundred years, but you cared about your country more than anything in the world, and you could tell that Felix felt the same way about his people. If nothing else, you had to respect that. And to seek out a solution like he had wasn't something you'd ever thought of for yourself, so you would give him the benefit of the doubt.

The rest of the walk to your room was quiet, leaving you with your own thoughts and emotions. You imagined that Changbin was trying to understand your decision, and the emotions behind it, but he was a much less hardheaded person than you were, and much less trusting of people's souls.

"I'll see you at dinner," He said, nudging your shoulder with his fist and giving you a smile that you forced yourself to return, leaving you in peace, all alone now. You laid yourself out on your bed, arms and legs spread across the surface of it as if stretching to your limit would silence the noise in your mind and ground you back into your body.

Your father was going to be unhappy, and you'd have to convince him to let you do this. He wasn't a controlling man, no more than he had to be at least, but this was taking a personal risk, and surely he wouldn't be eager to let you do that. The thought of driving a wedge between the two of you made your heart ache. He’d been your biggest supporter for as long as you could remember. You said a silent prayer to the universe that he’d continue to be just that.

You needed a better plan. You thought about Felix and his irksome confidence as he simply stated we make them think we're in love. But you had to admit that, despite everything, the sentiment made sense. There were a lot of things that people rejected, things that your people would never accept. But one of the few things that people had a hard time saying no to was love.

You stared at the ceiling, a dancing mirage of oranges and reds that mimicked the setting sun's colors. Dinner would be served soon, and you'd have to take another step towards your destiny, however unpleasant that may be. Maybe if Felix was on his best behavior your father wouldn't cause an uproar, and maybe he'd trust you enough not to make you sit beside the court and council.

You thought about what you'd planned your future to hold. Love, and laughter. You had hoped to see much of the world when you were younger, not yet jaded by the looming war at the edges of your home. Though the war had died down quite a bit in the hundred years since you were brought to be. You remembered your mother, and the songs of life before the war that she’d sing you to sleep with. She said she'd learned them from her mother, who had learned them from her own before that, for generations stretching back a thousand years.

You often found yourself wondering what life was like then, before the hatred and the fear. When your kind lived in harmony with others. Back when life on the outer edges of your homeland was still wild and free, bubbling with joy and music and a whisper of hope that you desperately wanted to nurture.

This, whatever this life changing decision you were making was, had to be the right choice.

You laid there in silence for a while longer, soaking in the last slice of peace that you could imagine having for a while before finally getting yourself cleaned up for dinner.

Changbin escorted you to the dining pavilion as he typically did, and you greeted your father with a wide smile, settling into your seat.

"Isn't Felix here yet?" You asked, smoothing your hands over your lap. Your father shook his head, clearly displeased that he had been kept waiting. You silently reminded yourself that Felix wasn't technically late yet. The late spring air helped you keep your cool, the scent of the flowers from the gardens riding on the breeze.

"I apologize if I've kept you waiting." Felix's voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you smiled. Honestly you were just relieved to be one step closer to the truth being in the open.

"You haven't, don't worry. Please, sit." You motioned towards the seat across from you. He bowed his head to you and sat down where you indicated. The table was set, filled with more food than the three of you could possibly eat. Even so, Felix looked a bit worried. You cleared your throat.

"You can eat it, no harm will come to you. We don't enchant people as often as some might think. I promise it's all fine." You said. You watched him open his mouth as if to speak, instead settling on a polite smile. You felt something bitter burn in your chest. People's opinion of the fair folk had been dropping for lifetimes now, but it still made you angry to be distrusted the way you were.

With Felix settled in and reassured that you and your father had no ill intentions, the meal went smoothly, though mostly in silence. It was only when dessert was served that your father decided to speak up.

"I still don't think I've caught the reason for your visits, young prince." He said. You stiffened, but Felix looked just as laid back as he had throughout his entire second visit. He looked at you, and his lips curled into a smile.

"My apologies, your majesty. I didn't mean to be so secretive with my intentions." Felix admitted. He looked at your father. "I came to ask for Y/N's hand in marriage, and they've accepted. So now I am asking for your blessing."

The silence after his confession was deafening, and it threatened to swallow you whole. Your father didn't speak, he didn't shout or attack Felix right then and there which, you desperately hoped, was a good sign. But when he opened his mouth to speak, he was looking at you.

"What is this about?" He asked. You swallowed and glanced at Felix. He was looking at you, dark eyes alight with desperation, or maybe with hope, but either way it tugged at something inside of you.

"Please give us your blessing, father. Let me marry him," You begged gently. He looked at you, something along the lines of rage and disbelief flickering in his eyes.

"You've hardly known him for a week," Your father pointed out. You nodded, inhaling slowly.

"And I've thought about the decision a lot. I firmly believe that this is the right choice. Please, I need your trust." You laid your utensils down and turned to properly face your father. "You raised me well, and I genuinely believe that I’m ready to make the important decisions for myself. All I'm asking is for your blessing."

The quiet returned, even the birds had stopped chirping in the trees as if the entirety of the world was waiting with bated breath. You could feel Felix's eyes on you, and you refused to look back at him.

"The council won't like it. I will do what I can to sway them, but that may be in your hands." Your father spoke, and you exhaled deeply, closing your eyes and saying a silent thanks to the universe for her kindness. You sunk back in your seat in the first proper show of comfort since the day Felix came to ask for your hand in the first place.

"Thank you, sir," Felix said, looking at you with a smile that was brighter than the sun itself. You sighed quietly. This wasn't going to be easy.

As dinner finished, and Felix was dismissed to write to his family and let them know he'd be staying longer than expected, your father called you to stay back. You stiffened, turning around to face him again.

"I'm not going to ask if you love him, I can see that you don't." He said. You clenched your jaw, and he continued. "But I have to ask you if you're doing this for the right reasons."

You thought for a moment, mulling over the best way to approach his question.

"I'm tired of sitting by and doing nothing. Soon enough it will be my turn to run our country, and I want to prove that I can do what needs to be done, even if it's difficult sometimes." You said. "I'm doing this for mom,"

He smiled, a sad, thoughtful sort of smile and gave you a nod.

"I trust your judgment, but sometimes you're too much like your mother for my heart to take. She was hard headed and passionate too, and I can't imagine that you got that from me. If you’re confident in your decisions, you have me at your back. Now go, you'll have a lot of work ahead of you."

You carried those words with you the next few days as you sat through council meetings, elders arguing the future of your country and the validity of your decisions. They claimed you were only a child, you reminded them that not only were you of legal age, but that you were of marrying age and, had you not found a suitor within the next several years, you would have been married off for the sake of politics. It was only fair that you got to make that decision on your own in the meantime.

You knew what their argument really was, that you were making a decision they couldn't imagine making for themselves, that you were fraternizing with the enemy. Which was amusing behind closed doors since you could hardly call whatever it was you had going on with Felix 'fraternization’. 

It was coming out of one of these endless meetings that you ran into a distressed looking Felix. He had been working himself up for hours now waiting for someone to report back to him with how things were coming. His hair looked as if he'd run his hands through it a dozen times over, and he seemed to jump when you came through the doors.

"Well? What did they say this time?" He asked you. You took a breath.

"They're not happy about it, but they’ve run out of reasons to protest since both me and my father are in favor of the marriage. They want us to announce our engagement formally." You told him. He paused, a half-laugh of disbelief leaving his lips.

"Are you serious? They've agreed?" He asked. You nodded.

"Don't go getting all excited, this is where the hard part begins."

"This wasn't the hard part?" He asked, leaning against the wall. You rolled your eyes.

“We still have to tell your family, mind you.” You said. “And we have entire nations to win over. This was only the beginning.”

"I can't imagine either of those things will be terribly difficult, my parents won’t be happy, but they won’t try to stop me. They trust me, unlike–”

You sent a glare in his direction, a warning not to speak ill of your family. He just gave you a playful smile and giggled in delight at having earned a reaction out of you. You rolled your eyes.

"Right then. You'll have the rest of the day to prepare, and we'll make the announcement tomorrow." You began walking, back towards the outside, heading for the gardens. "And after that you'll have to come with me when I attend royal duties. Oh, and you'll need to write home, get a proper invitation for my safe travels. Otherwise my father and the court and council will never let me travel into enemy land."

Felix laughed, and you looked over your shoulder at him. He was following as you'd expected, but with his hands in his pockets he looked much more relaxed than you felt. You were growing more and more irritated with his laid back demeanor.

"What?" You asked.

"Are you always this serious?" He asked you. You continued walking again, and he moved to stand in front of you, effectively blocking your path.

"I think this is something quite reasonable to be serious about. Clearly you don't, which is what stresses me out."

"What's your favorite color?" He asked you.

“If you cannot take our marriage preparations seriously, how am I supposed to trust you with my country? Or your own for that matter?"

"Favorite flower? What do you do for fun?"

"Felix, I'm serious!"

"I know you are," He reached out, taking you by your shoulders and shaking you back and forth. "Loosen up, for fucks sake. I am preparing for our wedding. Nobody will believe that we're truly in love if we know nothing about each other."

You paused, mildly taken aback by the language, but it was enough to stop your anxiety in its tracks. You hadn't thought about that. You shook off his hands gently, continuing to walk.

"Then we'll spend the day getting to know each other. But we'll discuss other things too. The schedule first off."

"Can you answer my questions then? What is your favorite color, my prince?"

You pushed the doors at the end of the hall open, giving way to a long, clover pathway. Vine covered arbors arced over the path, bright with flowers in every color that Felix could even imagine flowers coming in. You seemed to relax once you were outside in nature, leading him along the path. As he watched, he noticed the way that your feet barely touched the ground, your steps gliding as if you were dancing with the air.

"Green." You told him, reaching out to touch a flower that grew on one of the arbors. He watched the way it perked up under your touch. "I also like brown, but my father says that's not a suitable color for favorites."

Felix smiled. That may well have been the first glimpse at your true self that he'd had the honor of seeing.

"I think it's perfectly suitable. And that you should be allowed to have your own thoughts independent of your father's." He knew he probably should have minded his words more carefully from the way you stiffened up. But you relaxed after a moment, turning to look at him as you both walked deeper into the gardens, hedges rising around you, each trimmed neatly into perfect walls.

"What's your favorite color then?" You asked him in return.

"Black. But if people ask, I usually tell them orange." He said. You didn't miss the irony in him changing his favorite color for the sake of other people's opinions when he said that you shouldn't do just that. You wondered if he was always so hypocritical when it came to himself.

You stopped in front of a large fountain, a depiction of two fairies with their heads tipped back, smiles stretching across their faces. They looked to be dancing, and the marble of their wings caught the light, making them shine like silver. The water was opalescent as it cascaded down into the pool, and you sat at the edge of it, dipping your fingers into the water and watching the ripples that came from it.

"And what do you do for fun?" He asked. You looked at him, then back at your hand as you scooped up some of the water, letting it run through your fingers, some trickling down your wrist.

"I read sometimes. Usually out here. I spend most of my free time here. Or with my friends." You told him. "When I'm with them we aren't usually up to any good. Never harmful, though. Don't get me wrong."

Felix listened to you, and he didn't say anything about the supposed mischief that you got up to with your friends.

"Your friends, what are their names?" He asked. 

“The guards you’ve met. They’ve been my best friends since before they joined the royal guard. There’s others too, but I don’t see them as often.” You stood up, shaking the water off of your hand. “What about you? You have friends back home, right?”

“I do. Chan is probably my best friend. You’ll meet him one day. I think you’ll get along well with him.” Felix said. He opened his mouth, starting to ask you another question, but you shook your head.

"You've asked enough questions, I have more to tell you about." You said.

And so you did, bringing him up to date with the expectations that would be placed upon him once it was announced that the two of you were engaged. How he'd become an equal, but respect was still to be maintained to the very end. How he'd have to attend any balls you were expected at unless his business at home would call him away, and how any event you were seen at in your country, he'd also want to attend to achieve public favor.

It was late into the evening when the two of you decided to leave the gardens. You'd shown him several different spaces that you enjoyed sitting and thinking in. The rose gardens, and the sculpture gardens, and the tree at the very center that you'd been climbing since you were able to walk. Felix understood then, maybe for the first time, the connection that your people seemed to have with nature.

"What's your favorite flower, my prince?" Felix asked as the two of you walked back towards the castle. The name was beginning to stick, and you grew disgruntled every time he used it. Although maybe that was the reason he kept on saying it.

"Lily of the valley," You answered finally, a faint smile on your lips. "My father had a whole bunch of them planted where you can see them from my window. That one there,"

You pointed to your bedroom window overlooking the gardens, and Felix looked up at it. He wondered if you'd been given that room for just that reason, or if maybe the gardens had been planted where they were for the sake of giving you something nice to look at.

"A good choice," He admitted as the both of you returned to the castle. He opened the door for you, and you bowed your head to him in appreciation.

Once inside, he excused himself, stating that he was too tired to attend dinner, but that he'd see you in the morning for breakfast. You let him go only once he promised to have his letter to his parents sent out before he went to bed.

You wondered as you returned to your own space if your relationship with Felix would forever be formal and awkward. Sure, the afternoon together hadn’t been miserable, but a part of you worried that you'd never be anything more than polite acquaintances. Asking for love in a marriage of convenience and diplomacy was a bit excessive, even you knew that, but maybe a kind of comfort could come of it if you were lucky.

The next morning was an early start. You woke up before the sun rose, getting yourself ready on your own and taking your time as you prepared for the day. You made yourself up before breakfast, staring at your reflection in the mirror. After breakfast you would be expected to meet with the court and council, and you'd be put on display in front of your people to announce your engagement. You wondered how they’d take it, if the favor you’d been earning since your birth was enough to win out against fear and survival instinct.

In your lifetime alone, many people had been wronged by the elves. They had shown themselves to be a cruel and self-righteous people with little to no regard for people who were any different than themselves. Felix hadn't seemed too much like what you knew of his kind, but it would take some time for him to prove that to anyone besides you. But you knew, you reminded yourself as you put on your clothes, that this was for the best. You were making the right decision.

You were the first to arrive for breakfast, your food being served to you as it always was. When your father arrived, you were poking at your eggs. Your stomach was too queasy to eat a decent meal. He didn't say much beyond a good morning. You tried not to think anything of it, he was never much of a morning person. But your anxiety was beginning to get the best of you, a worry that your entire plan would come crashing down by the day's end. When Felix came and took his own seat to your right, you had still done nothing but tear your eggs to shreds and pick the crust off of your bread.

"Good morning, my prince. Your majesty." He greeted the both of you, his own plate being filled with the best your cooks had to offer.

"Good morning, Felix. Did you sleep well?" You asked, looking up from your food. He nodded.

"Very well, thank you. I wrote home as promised, I expect a proper invitation by the end of the week." He said. That should have relaxed you, but it only made you more tense knowing that there would be no escaping a visit to Felix's homeland.

"Wonderful. Just in time for our announcement. After breakfast is finished we should get to preparing." You said, not that you'd even begun eating your meal. "We've already set them to decorate and get everything set up for an announcement, and I'm sure the crowds are beginning to gather already."

Felix watched the way your fingers tightened around your fork, and the way that your voice didn't sound as confidently strong as he had grown used to in the short time the two of you had spent together. It was off-putting to see you so withdrawn, and he wished that he could fix it even just for the sake of not dealing with the unexpected.

"You've prepared your announcement speech?" Your father asked you. You nodded quietly, not looking up at him. You weren't much of a public speaker, and you had never made a public speech to a group of one hundred people, let alone the better part of your kingdom.

"Speech?" Felix asked. You nodded again, finally taking a bite of your breakfast.

"An engagement is proof enough that it's time for me to act like an adult and not a childish prince," You said. It was beginning to feel ironic since you hadn't felt this much like a childish prince in some time. "So it's my turn to say my piece. Don't worry, you won't be expected to speak."

Felix nodded a little. It wasn't hard to pick up on your anxiety, and as much as he loved getting a reaction out of you, he sincerely didn't want you to feel unsafe in his presence.

"Well then, is there anything else I can do to help with the preparations?" He asked. You put your fork down, pushing your food away from you. Your stomach couldn't handle it with the way it was twisting into knots. You looked at Felix, a bit surprised by his offer, then you shook your head.

"Just make yourself look as nice as possible and get to the main hall within two hours. That's really all I ask." You stood up, "Honestly, if I have to chase you down I might have to end this entire ordeal then and there,"

You were dead serious, and nobody knew that better than Felix. He nodded with a quiet 'I promise'. You sat back in your seat and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Once your father was finished eating, he excused himself with a promise to check in before time for you to face the world. You sat there a few moments longer before following his lead and excusing yourself.

Felix followed you, abandoning his half cleared plate.

"Hey, this is gonna be fine. You know that, right?" He asked you. You forced a smile, straightening out your shoulders.

"I know. I'll see you later," You turned quickly. As kind as the reassurance was, you didn't want to be around him for any longer than necessary in your state, and the gentle tone of his voice was grating on your already frayed nerves, and the last thing you wanted was to spiral in front of him and put even more pressure on his shoulders.

He didn't follow you this time, and you didn't look back at him. Instead you walked the long halls back to the safety of your room. You took your time getting yourself all dolled up. Meanwhile, Changbin was sitting on your bed in his uniform, flicking through one of the books that you had stacked up on your bed stand.

"Why are you doing all of this, anyway? I mean, you’re obviously one mishap away from having a complete meltdown. No offense." Changbin said. You rolled your eyes, adjusting your clothes for the hundredth time.

"What sort of question is that?" You scoffed.

"An honest one. I mean, you're royalty, right? And you could marry anyone you wanted. Why are you marrying someone you barely even know?"

You turned to look at him, placing your hands on your hips. When he looked up, he made a face just like he always had when you were younger and you'd scold him for being reckless or improper or dragging you into his shenanigans (not that you ever really minded that bit).

"I'm marrying him because I know that it's what I'm meant to do." You said firmly. "It's not even him that's getting to me. It's...everything else. Everyone thinking that they need to judge us, or evaluate us and give their opinion. And for what?"

You huffed, beginning to pace. Changbin just leaned back on your bed once again.

"I mean, it's not as if we're show animals, we don't need to jump through everyone else's hoops just to prove that we should get married. It's our own lives, isn't it?"

Changbin didn't speak then, just let you huff and grumble about life as you finished getting yourself ready. He was ever patient with you like that, and you did appreciate it more than you could express. Of course when you were in a mood like this, his seeming indifference to the situation didn't help much.

Luckily for him the two hours passed quickly with you only occasionally bursting out again about how frustrating things were. He knew your anxiety well, and it was clear that you were beginning to take it out on everything else. So he held your hand as the two of you walked to meet your father and Felix. You were grateful for the distraction of his warm, calloused palm under yours. After so many years, you’d gotten good at mapping out his skin when you were anxious, giving your mind some excuse to not think about anything else.

The main hall was full of people, workers from the castle who had been helping to keep the last minute event running smoothly. Your father and his guards and attendants were being spoken to about the plan, and Felix was standing to the side with Jisung looking both incredibly laid back and a little restless. You made a beeline for the two of them, all but collapsing into Jisung's arms as he wrapped them around your middle.

"Your highness, I think you're making a scene," He said, mostly teasingly. You whined.

"These people are all here because of me, I think they can mind their own business long enough for me to have a meltdown." You grumbled, straightening up and smoothing out your clothes and hair. "Have they been waiting very long?"

"They've been here since we got here. With how frazzled the head of the team looks I think they've been putting in overtime getting things set." He admitted. You sighed and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before shaking out your nerves.

"Right, let's make this as smooth as we can for them, then."

Felix had to admit that the way you so quickly and easily switched gears amazed him. In the blink of an eye you'd gone from openly and pretty clearly distressed to the put together prince he'd met his first visit. He exhaled slowly, hoping he looked even half as put together as you did.

"Your highnesses," One of the workers, presumably the frazzled one Jisung had spoken of given the look on his face, bowed in front of the four of you. "We'll begin the address soon, but I wanted to run you through the order of events first, answer any question you may have."

You nodded, motioning Felix forward to look over the papers you were being shown. It wasn't anything new to you. Your father would make an address first, introduce you to your people, and then you and Felix would step forward to take the lead, give your speech. Then you'd all thank your people for their time and the entire thing would be over in less than forty minutes. Ideal.

"Whenever you're ready, your majesty," The man bowed to your father, and he nodded. Your father looked at you, and even though he didn't smile, or give any pep talks, you knew that he was rooting for you behind his royal facade. You and your father had always been close enough for you to read the look in his eyes.

As a group, the lot of you were led up the set of stairs to yet another wide open hall. The announcement hall, with a balcony that overlooked the castle courtyard. You could hear them beyond the door, your people gathered for a glimpse of their leaders, a hint of news that could be told to everyone they knew. The music from beyond the balcony doors was loud, voices and laughter raised to the sky. A reminder of exactly why you were doing this.

The guards swung the doors open, and your father stepped out to a chorus of cheers and fanfare. He was very well liked as a king, as long as you'd been alive at least. You stepped out afterwards, Felix on your heels, then guards as the doors closed.

Felix had to admire the way you stood tall, your expression the epitome of affection as you looked out as your people. He, on the other hand, felt as if he was shrinking in on himself no matter how hard he tried not to. But he didn't get much of a chance to think about that as your father began his greetings speech.

A welcome to the faeries who had come from all around the kingdom, and a thanks for their undying loyalty to the crown that brought them there. Felix listened to this part. It was clear that the King was an incredible leader, and well respected if the crowd that had gathered with only twenty four hours notice was anything to go by. He understood where you got your leadership skills.

The applause after your father's speech was what pulled you out of your thoughts, and your eyes flew to him first, then to Felix, and finally to your friends who you could only see out of the corner of your eye. You took a deep, shaky breath and stepped forward to take your father's place. Felix followed you, standing ever so slightly behind you as you took center stage.

You put on your bravest smile, beginning your announcement with as much joy as you could muster. Thank the people for coming and sparing their time to be with you as you made a joyful announcement for you and your home. Make a long, flowery monologue about how happy and grateful you were to have been born prince of such a magnificent place, how strong your country was and words of inspiration about how you believed they would continue being wonderful.

Then came the most difficult part.

"We've asked you here to give a life changing announcement. I have finally accepted a marriage proposal. I would like to introduce Prince Felix of the Elven realms. Your future king." Your hands were shaking, and you clenched your fists as subtly as you could manage to try and get them under control. You looked at Felix as you'd been coached to, and he was already looking at you with the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. One that made your stomach twist and your heart stutter in your chest. A baffling change from the way it had been racing as you tried not to choke on your ridiculous speech.

Felix bowed to your people, and for once, the crowd was wholeheartedly silent. You had seen that coming. You tried not to let on the way the nerves began eating you alive. You weren't always very good at hiding your emotions, you got that from your mother.

A hand took yours, warm and soft and squeezing your trembling hand in his own. You let out a shaky breath, and Felix gave you a nod of encouragement. You tensed, frustration burning dark and heavy in your chest. You turned back to the microphone in front of you.

"I am proud of the decision I'm making, and I can only hope that you will all take pride in it as well. More details will come with time, but in the meantime, I ask that you all welcome Felix with open arms just as my family, my home, and I have already." You bowed your head in appreciation towards your people, giving them one more statement of appreciation before being escorted back inside. Your father followed then, and the guards last.

Once you were inside, you released Felix's hand, your fingers were tense from how hard you'd been squeezing it. You turned to apologize, but he shook his head, silencing you with nothing more than a look.

"You did well," Your father told you, giving your shoulders an affectionate squeeze. You smiled, ignoring the way it felt like yet another sentence to perfection. You couldn't handle that thought.

"Thank you. If you'll excuse me," You turned, making a beeline for the gardens that always brought you the most peace. You took the stairs faster than you ever had in your life, your feet barely touching the floor beneath them.

It didn't feel as if you could breath until you were in the open air, no longer suffocating or bending the truth. It was just you and the world. The world wasn't always kind, but she was oh so real. You couldn't say the same about yourself anymore, not really. That left you with a sort of self loathing that you'd never actually felt before. Who were you if not the truest, most transparent version of yourself. And how could you be transparent with a secret this big? When you were blurring the lines between selflessness and the selfish need to give every bit of yourself to bring others whatever they needed?

Your heart carried you through the gardens more than your mind did, leading you down the paths, past the fountains and into the very heart of the large maze of nature. You passed through the archway there into a cleared opening. At the center of it stood a large sycamore tree. There was a pond to the side with a bench sitting near it, and an intricately carved bird bath on the opposite side of the clearing. You climbed into the upper branches of the tree with a practiced ease, pulling yourself up despite the way the bark scratched your palms, kicking off your shoes to make it easier to move properly. You didn't even bother to think of the damage it may do to your best clothes.

Sitting up in the tree, the sun filtering through its leaves, and the breeze brushing your overheating skin, it made the panic and frustration clear like fog lifting and dissipating. You sat there for a long time. You'd been climbing this tree for decades, finding comfort in its steadiness.

That being said, it wasn't surprising when Jisung found you faster than you would have liked him to. He stood at the base of the tree where you could see him but he couldn't directly see you. Even so, your shoes were sitting at the roots of the tree, giving your location away like a beacon shining in the dark.

Jisung made a move to climb after you. He had, after all, been climbing it with you for a good long while. Him and Changbin both since you were all just kids. You made a move to climb higher, not that you could evade him for very long given that there was only so much tree to climb. He made an irritated, whiney sound.

"Don't even consider moving. Not all of us have such an easy time with this," He warned, and you knew that it was a mostly empty threat, he wouldn't do anything if you kept climbing. You settled your weight on the branch you were sitting on anyway. He made it to you fairly quickly, sitting down at the crook of a branch near you. "What brought you here?"

You looked at the spot in front of you, bringing your finger to trace the ridges in the bark between where your legs hung. You shrugged quietly. He didn't speak, still waiting for you to answer him. He knew that you'd break eventually, the awkward tension growing too much. And you were perfectly predictable under the circumstances.

"Do you think that I'll make a good leader, Ji?" You asked him, still not risking a look at him.

"Is this about the engagement?" He asked you. Honestly you were getting sick of that question. Sure, you hadn't always been one to voice your insecurities, but you had always had them.

"Not exactly. The engagement just has me thinking," You told him. He nodded. "I know that I'm making the right decision, even if that's hard to do. But do you think that our people trust me? Or do they think that I'm going to let them down?"

He was quiet, clearly thinking, and you tried not to let that worry you. Still, you found yourself picking at your clothes to try and quiet the wave of anxiety that was creeping up your spine.

"I think that our people will believe in you because of who you are and where you come from. Your parents have always treated us like family, and we know that you will take that same care with us." He was looking at you, and you looked back this time, nipping at the inside of your cheek. "However, I think they will also expect you to prove yourself. And I know that you will. I have nothing but trust and confidence in you. As a person, and a prince."

The both of you sat in your tree a while longer, hiding from the world in each other's company until the sun was beginning to set and the breeze grew cool. Jisung helped you down then, not that you needed it, and walked with you back through the gardens. You did feel better than, with his confidence and  unwavering support playing on repeat in your mind. You were gonna be just fine, your people would trust you. You just had to prove yourself. Easy peasy.

The hall was quiet this late at night, and Felix couldn't help but feel like the sound of his footsteps were disturbing the peaceful atmosphere that he'd stepped into. He knew that wandering about so late at night was probably not the best thing for him to be doing, but he'd been promised protection within the castle walls, and laying in bed tossing and turning wasn't putting him any closer to actually resting.

He didn't know exactly where he was going, but he was thinking about what you'd said before about how you think better on the move. He wondered if there was any sense to that. He was still in his pajamas, his hair messy from sleep (or some poor attempt at it). The halls were lit with a pale blue hued light that he couldn't spot the source of, nor any sort of shadows to help him figure it out. It made the entire place feel like a dream. He had started to get used to this place, a home away from home once you were properly married, and it was more peaceful than he'd expected it to be given the connection between faeries and mischief.

He walked for a long while, passing windows that let in silvery moonlight that spilled over the floor like puddles after a rain, and views that you hadn't shown him yet. He took a couple flights of stairs, wandering up higher. He'd been told there was a library, and he wasn't much of a reader, but it sounded like a nice place to indulge his thoughts for a while, maybe somewhere to make a regular relaxation spot.

He was still in that thought when another presence caught him off guard, a movement in the corner of his eye. He whirled around, his hands balled into fists. Not that he was trained in hand to hand combat, elves were built for fighting from a distance. There wasn't anyone he could see, but he could hear the soft fluttering sound that he'd begun to pin down as wings sifting through the air.

"Gotta be faster than that, your highness." A voice said, and he spun around again. Leaning against the wall was the guard that was always at your side.

"Changbin. You startled me," He admitted, pressing a hand to his racing chest.

"As was the plan. No ill intent, don't misunderstand, but I saw you wandering about, thought I might as well have a bit of fun without Y/N around to scold me for bothering you." He said. He uncrossed his arms. "Were you headed anywhere in particular?"

Felix shook his head, smoothing a hand through his hair.

"No, I just couldn't sleep is all. I figured a walk might do me some good." He admitted. Changbin nodded his understanding.

"Do you drink tea? I'll take you to the kitchen," He offered. Felix agreed, following the shorter man's lead. He hadn't gotten much of a chance to speak with Changbin, he was always at your side. That, however, was exactly why he wanted to talk to him. There was a lot about you that was a mystery to Felix, and he honestly wasn't sure if you'd be open to sharing it with him. His curiosity, however, didn't want to accept that answer without putting up a decent fight.

Changbin was quiet for most of the walk, and Felix didn't want to disturb the quiet, but eventually the knight spoke up.

"It's not safe for guests to wander the halls this late at night. Some of our people aren't quite so trusting, they may have gotten the wrong idea, my prince." He said. Felix wondered if that was a threat. But Changbin was smiling and ushering him into the kitchen. "What has you up this late?"

Felix watched as Changbin maneuvered the large kitchens with a practiced ease, and he found himself wondering if Changbin spent a lot of time here during the late nights, unable to sleep like he was now.

"Just thinking too much. I have trouble sleeping when there's a lot on my mind." Felix explained. Changbin hummed, pulling down a pair of cups for their tea.

"Tell me," He said. Felix's silence must have spoken for him, because Changbin turned to him and elaborated. "When there's something on your mind, talking about it helps get it off your mind. So talk to me. Your secrets are safe with me, your highness."

Felix fiddled with the rings on his fingers.

"You don't need to call me that, Felix is fine. You're practically going to be family soon if I understand correctly." He said. Changbin passed him a steaming mug, and he took it in his hands, pressing his palms to the almost scalding hot porcelain. "I don't think that Y/N trusts me very much."

Changbin laughed, and the sound was nearly unsettling, but Felix didn't mind hearing it.

"They don't. It's not entirely your fault, they don't trust much of anyone. But they haven't heard many good things about your people. No offense, of course." Changbin said, leaning against one of the many counters. Felix looked down. He knew that the hatred ran deep between their two peoples, but it hadn't fully occurred to him that the war had bred such deep distrust. He felt fairly foolish now that it was laid out in front of him.

"I want to prove myself to them. To all of you. And of course saying that isn't enough, I'll continue working for it. I want you to know that. I've heard that you are the person closest to them." Felix sipped his tea, ignoring the fact that it was a bit hotter than he would have hoped. He eyed Changbin quietly after the statement. He didn’t look like what Felix had always imagined the Fae to look like, but he was handsome. Sculpted muscle and sunkissed skin. He was short, but it was clear that he wasn’t small in stature or personality.

"One of them. Trying is all it'll take. They're not so cold, I promise." Changbin reached out, giving Felix a squeeze on the arm that was surprisingly reassuring. "Your people took something from them. From all of us. That's all they know about you. But they have a kind heart, and they're very true to the things they believe in. Let them learn to believe in you, and in the meantime give them a chance to be afraid. Because, and you didn't hear this from me, but they're very afraid."

Felix didn't speak, he didn't really think it necessary after all that Changbin had shared for him. The only thing that he could think to say was thank you, but even that didn't seem like enough. They shared their space in comfortable silence, each drinking their tea and letting their own thoughts take the lead. About halfway through his drink, Felix looked at the man across from him.

"Changbin, you do know that I won't hurt them, right?" He said. Changbin laughed again, shaking his head.

"That's not something I'm too worried about, my friend. If you hurt them you'll have to take that up with them. And despite what you may think, they're a lot scarier than me and Jisung combined when they're angry. Or hurt." He downed the rest of his drink, setting aside his empty cup. "They're surprising like that, they're a lot more than you see on the surface. I remember when I was training to be a royal knight, they caught one of the instructors hassling me. I hadn't thought anything of it, figured it was all just part of the training, y'know?"

Felix nodded, and Changbin crossed his arms over his chest, a fond smile growing on his face the more he thought about the memory.

"They came running down the training field all dressed up in their best clothes, they came straight out of a meeting. And they took a bow from one of the other trainees and aimed it at this guy, telling him to leave me alone, that I was under their protection," He laughed, and this sound was even brighter than the last. Felix could feel the adoration he held for you, and he really was beginning to understand it. "They nearly took his head off when he asked them to repeat themselves."

"They nearly took my head off the first time we met," Felix laughed himself this time, and when he looked up from his rapidly cooling cup of tea, he was met by a knowing look. Changbin took his cup since he clearly wasn't about to finish it.

"Don't worry, they haven't tried that since then. I say that's a good sign." He nodded towards the door. "I should however be escorting you back to your room, my prince. I can't say much, it's not my place, but I imagine you'll have a big few days coming. Y/N might actually kill you this time if you aren't well rested."

Felix didn't put up a fight, just followed his newest ally back to the room he'd been assigned. There wasn't a guard standing outside like there had been his first couple of nights. Felix still hadn't decided if that was a good sign or a bad one, but he was going to take it as a show of trust. He opened the door, bidding Changbin goodnight, and decided that another try at sleep might just be the best for his well being.

The day that came after was indeed very hectic. Felix had never seen so many gifts in his life, piles of them, and flowers that he'd never heard of before. Not to mention the cheers from outside the castle. If his people had swarmed the castle like that the whole place surely would have gone into lock down. But here it was welcomed with joy and gratitude. And Felix knew of course that you and your people weren't evil and terrible creatures like his family had always made you out to be, but now he was baffled as to how anyone could have believed such a glaring lie in the first place.

"Felix, are you listening?" You asked, looking over to where he was sat beside you at the long and very full table. He nodded quickly, straightening up.

"It would do you well to listen, your highness. This all involves you as well," One of the elders at the table said, and Felix had to keep himself from shrinking in on himself under the sheer disdain in the woman's voice.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'll listen well." He promised. Beside him you snickered, and he huffed. Your father smiled at the two of you from the head of the table, and you pressed your lips together at being caught.

"As I was saying," He continued. "There's a festival to be held tomorrow evening. A celebration of the engagement. I expect the two of you to make an appearance. Y/N will show you how to behave, festivals are common occurrences here, but I'm unsure about where you come from."

Felix honestly hadn't been to any festivals in his life back home, though he'd managed to go to a few in neighboring countries, diplomatic missions and such. After all, the war didn't have nearly as harsh an effect on their allies as it had on them. But you looked positively thrilled at the prospects, so he couldn't imagine that they were miserable events.

"I'm a quick learner, I won't cause problems." He promised, giving that sweet smile of his. You pressed your lips together and gave him a nod.

"Right then, what else is on our plates?" You asked.

The meeting went on like this, the court and council explaining what the events of the next few days would look like until you were called to Felix's home country to meet his family. Wedding planning and your usual work load. And of course you were scheduled a bit of downtime here and there, something that the both of you were visibly grateful for.

You caught Felix on his way out of the meeting, grabbing his wrist gently and pulling him to a stop.

"Felix, I wanted to talk to you." You said. He tipped his head.

"You wanted to talk to me? That must be a first, I'm honored, my prince." He teased. You huffed, but you didn't glare at him. It's the little things, he thought, baby steps.

"About the festival. And how to not offend the people you may meet." You said. He nodded, suddenly much less playful than he had been a moment before. His face straightened into an expression of pure focus, his eyes trained on you. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, a bit put off by his seriousness. Usually you were the one wholly dedicated to this, and the more he seemed to put into it the more you began feeling like a bird in a cage.

"I'm all ears," He said. You couldn't help but look at his ears then, long and poking out of his summer blonde hair just a little. You giggled, the sound bubbling out of you before you could stop it. And then your eyes were wide, the laughter still coming out of you. Felix looked at you, bewildered and amused and all together curious about the outburst. You covered your mouth.

"You are all ears." You said, reaching out to poke at the tip of his ear. He laughed then, and the two of you stood together in a moment of lightheartedness that had been lost for the past couple of weeks as you both gave your futures to one another.

Once the laughter had died down, the both of you shared a smile, genuine and trusting in a way that hadn’t been explored by the two of you just yet.

"Come on then, tell me about what I can do better." He said, his smile melting into his words. You liked how his voice sounded then, tinted with joy instead of amusement and teasing.

"Right. First of all, you call us fair folk. Never faeries, it's an outdated term. It’s pretty much only used by Elves nowadays. It's disrespectful." You said. He nodded, his expression dropping for a moment when he realized how little he truly knew about the country he would one day head by your side. "And you shouldn't lie, even if you're able to, unlike us. It's rude and many of us don't take well to being lied to. You don't want to be on the bad side of some fae. Of course you can't always tell the whole truth, but a partial truth is better than no truth at all."

He hummed.

"Oh, and the last thing before I leave you be, it's not my people."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You always say my people, but that's not right. They're your people too now. They'll appreciate knowing that you care about them enough to call them kin."

You gave him a smile before giving him a small nod and excusing yourself. You walked away then, you had your own schedules for the day to attend to, and surely Felix would spend his day resting. After all, he was still a guest and he couldn't be expected to follow you in every bit of your daily affairs. Especially not the ones above his rank. But nevertheless, you found yourself wondering about what he was doing as you went through your day, about where on the grounds he was, what trouble he may stumble into. That thought brought something like a spiked sort of worry.

And by dinner you were anxious to see him, something you weren't quite accustomed to feeling. Still, you asked about his day, and he told you in great detail. It hadn't been very interesting, he'd said, but he'd gotten a chance to sit in on training of the newest round of knights, something that Jisung and Changbin helped with. You were grateful at least that your friends got along well with your future husband. Not that you imagined anyone to be anything less than tolerant towards someone as kind and passionate as Felix.

The next day was more of the same, only getting the chance to see Felix at mealtime or in passing between your meetings until the afternoon when you were due to travel into town for the festival being held in your honor. And the entire time you were stuck in the same spin of wondering what he was doing, what you were missing, if people were treating him as you wanted them to.

You were helped into the carriage, sitting between Changbin and Jisung with Felix sitting across from you. The energy was tangible, warm and thrumming with nerves and excitement and practically vibrating with the need to be let free. The ride was quiet like that, your hand in Changbin's and your leg pressed close to Jisung's, and your eyes trailing back and forth from the window to your right and Felix's face, studying him for any sign of what may be going on behind his mask.

The ride wasn't very far to the center of town. The crowds cheered as your carriage was pulled down the crowded streets, and children waved with stars in their eyes, stretching for a glance at the royalty tucked safely behind the doors. You were buzzing with anticipation. You used to have these festivals much more often when you were younger. Your mother had always said that in times of stress, a little joy was always the best remedy. You had never stopped believing that, but it had become quite a bit more difficult to organize things like this over the past few years.

When your carriage pulled to a stop, you looked at Felix, you smiled wider than he'd ever seen it before.

"Are you ready?" You asked him. He inhaled, looking out the windows at the crowded street. He'd never been to anything like this, but the excitement was tangible. He nodded.

"I'm ready."

Changbin was the first to climb out, ushering Felix out onto the street, a mosaic of colored stones that seemed to fit together perfectly like strangely shaped puzzle pieces. Then Felix reached a hand up for yours, helping you down the step onto solid ground. The cheers that rose from the crowd were like music as you bowed to your people.

In front of you a young girl stepped forward from the crowd, not yet into her teenage years, and she bowed deeply. You smiled, stepping forward to meet her. You placed a hand on her cheek, telling her to rise. She did then, holding her arms out with trembling hands. Laying in them were two ringlets of flowers, alternating colors which Felix was still sure he'd never even seen flowers grow in before.

"For you, your highness. And for his royal highness, Prince Felix as well." She said, wagering a glance at Felix. He looked wholly taken aback by her little act of kindness. You however took it in stride, taking a broach that had been pinned into your cloak off and placing the iridescent jewel in her palm in exchange for the crowns.

"I'm very grateful, they're beautiful. What a wonderful way to start off the festival." You said, placing the first one on your head, letting it settle over your hair. Then you turned to Felix, motioning for him to lean his head closer. He did so, half confused and half nervous that in his anxious state he'd tip over all together. You placed the flowers carefully against the blonde of his hair, smiling when he straightened up.

"It looks wonderful. I think you’re really beginning to fit in here, Lix." You said, quiet enough that your words were played just for the two of you. You brushed a stray lock of his hair away from his cheek, tucking it behind his ear before turning back to your people. "Well, let's not waste the day away standing on the streets. This is a festival after all."

You motioned for everyone to take to the decorated streets, to join in the merriment that you were all but bubbling over with. And so of course they did, the crowd stretching along the streets as far as the eye could see. There were flower crowns being sold, and food and drink being shared without a care. Music rose from every corner, and children ran and played in the streets. Everywhere that Felix looked was filled with light.

"Come on, Felix, we're going to miss out if you keep standing there," You told him, already turning to take off in the direction of a food stand. You eagerly passed over enough coins that you probably could have bought the entire stand, picking out a handful of pastries and passing them to the boys. Felix was noticeably hesitant to try the foreign food, but you took a bite, not caring about the jam that lingered on your lip. You hummed, and your wings fluttered in delight. Of course Felix had to take a bite then, letting the warm pastry melt in his mouth. It was sweet, and tasted like berries, but he couldn't place what sort.

"They're native to our country. Our biggest export actually, but your people haven't accepted them in ages. You're missing out. Maybe that should be our first change. We can't have your people missing out on an absolute delicacy." You said, and honestly Felix was pretty sure you were correct, even if it was a joke. He finished off his pastry, taking another one gratefully before being led on his way.

Felix noticed again the way you walked, how your feet barely touched the ground, and the way that they never made a sound against the stone like he did. He noticed that nearly everywhere, actually. The way that it was hard to keep track of how you flitted back and forth across the crowded streets. The way that it sparked a wave of panic every time that he lost sight of you.

The sun rose higher, and the sunlight was more golden here than it was back home, and it made the gems and flowers that strung from the roofs of the buildings along the street glitter like candlelight. The longer he was here, the more Felix began to understand your joy. He was laughing now too, humming to the music being played by a group of older citizens nearby when you gasped sharply. His eyes turned to you immediately, his hand flying for the dagger tucked against his leg. But you were grinning, and you reached out to tug at his wrist.

"Felix, look. They're dancing." You said. And he did look, and you were certainly correct. In the square nearby, people spun and skipped in intricate patterns, their clothes twisting around their bodies as they tipped their heads back to the sky. "Can we join them?"

Felix stood there in shock at your question. It wasn't that he couldn't dance, he was quite a skilled dancer, but this wasn't like the balls he had grown up in, not like the stiff, careful dancing that he'd been trained in all his life.

"Well, if you're not going to dance with me, I'll go with Changbin." You said, letting go of his hand to take Changbin's instead. If he were being honest, Felix was pretty sure that Changbin had been expecting this turn of events given the way he easily passed off his sword to Jisung and followed you to the square. Felix of course followed you, stopping at the edge of the dancers spiraling back and forth.

The cheers and clapping could be felt in his chest, and his eyes were trained only on you as you spun around the circle, hopping and skipping and swinging to the middle and back again in the whirling pattern that you seemed to understand in an instant. You looked so free, all the worry that he'd grown used to seeing having washed off of your face. You were laughing, and if he listened, he could hear it above the crowd, musical and sweet like berry syrup. His stomach twisted, and his heart picked up when you spun close to him. You looked at him, met his eye, and you lit up, motioning for him to join you once again. Still, he adamantly shook his head. No, the view was better from here.

When the song ended, you were standing a bit away from him, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, and the crown you'd put on your head was tilted funny now, half falling towards your face. But you looked beautiful, even more so when you did a tiny hop, grabbing at Changbin to beg him to go again when the next song picked up.

"For a man who doesn't have feelings for someone, you're sure are staring at them a lot, your highness." Jisung said, leaning close to the young prince. Felix's face flushed, and he cleared his throat.

"I'm not staring." He insisted, but his argument was cut off by Changbin pulling you away from the dancing. You were glowing, and Felix had to remind himself not to gape at you. You pushed your hair away from your face, beaming at him.

"I'll get you to dance with me someday, your highness," You said. He reached out, straightening the flowers sitting on your head.

"No more than necessary, my prince." He gave you a smile, and you didn't respond. You were sure you could get him to let loose eventually, he was already right at the precipice, you could see it in his eyes.

The rest of the festival went similarly, tasting food at various booths, and watching the children running and playing in the street. He had gotten incredibly used to having you tug on his hand, pulling him wherever your mind took you. He didn't mind it, and he wasn't sure if you even noticed you were doing it. You only let go when a small flurry of children came running up to him.

Felix liked children, not that he had a whole lot of experience interacting with them, besides his younger sister of course. But now they were gently tugging at his clothes and asking him questions. You let go of his hand, and he crouched to speak to them. His smile was sweet, and he moved his hair out of the way to show them his ears when asked about them. All the while, you stood to the side, watching him and wondering if he was as irritating as you'd come to expect him to be.

The day faded all too quickly to evening, and though the festival was still in full swing, as it would be for nearly another day you were sure, the children in the streets were being dragged away to bed. There were more couples out now, snacking on street food and walking hand in hand. Which was essentially what you and Felix were doing now, your hand tucked into the crook of his arm as you led him away from the crowds.

The sun had set long ago, but the moon shone down over the street, and lights floated above your head, twinkling like stars caught in mid-air. They were beautiful, making light move across your face in a way that fully illuminated your smile.

"Did you have fun?" You asked him. He nodded a little. You were far enough away now that the music was lowering to a faint background noise. "It's been such a long time since I've been to a festival like this. It's even better than I remember it being when I was a kid."

You let go of his arm, hopping up onto the small stone wall that lined the street here, a barricade between the road and the houses off of them. You balanced carefully, your arms outstretched at your sides. Felix walked alongside you, keeping his hand out in case you needed to grab onto him for support.

"It's amazing. I've never seen anything like it. We don't have many festivals back home." He admitted to you. The look of disappointment that you sent him made his chest tighten. "We're not boring, don't think that. But my father isn't a fan of things like this. He prefers shows and balls and stuff. He thinks it's more sophisticated."

You scrunched up your nose, doing a little hop over a spot where the stone of the wall had begun crumbling. You gasped at the way your ankle wobbled when you landed, your body swaying to the side. Felix caught your waist, nearly pulling you tumbling down altogether. When you looked at him, his eyes were wide, his lips parted in a silent gasp. You grabbed his wrists, rebalancing yourself on your feet but not shaking off his touch just yet.

"Yes, well," You let out a breath, letting go of him and moving to take your next steps on your makeshift balance beam. "Sophistication isn't everything. If everyone were to value sophistication over joy, the world would be a terrible place to live."

Felix watched your next few steps, wiping his clammy palms over his pants a couple of times before stepping to catch up with you.

"Did you play as a kid? Running around outside and whatnot?" You asked him. He looked a bit surprised by the question.

"My sisters and I played, not often outside. We weren't supposed to run inside, but our mom was laid back about it." He laughed, and you could swear it was the first time you had truly seen him look comfortable around you.

"You're close with your sisters?" You asked.

"Not as much as I was when I was younger. I don't have much time to see them anymore."

You frowned at the answer, making a mental note to make sure that once you were married and things were more settled in that you'd invite his sisters around often. You were an only child, but you couldn't imagine being separated from Changbin and Jisung. It could only be more difficult to be apart from your actual family.

"I don't have siblings, but I was close with my mother." You said. "She passed when I was younger, but she would have liked you, I think. You know what you believe, and you don't let anyone convince you of anything else. She valued that."

Felix took your hand as you came to the end of the wall, helping you jump to the ground. It was quiet here, nothing but the sound of the breeze rustling through tree leaves, and bugs chirping in the dark.

"Your mother sounds lovely," He said, not entirely sure how to navigate such a sensitive subject. You forced a small smile.

"She was. I want to be just like her," You looked over at him, and there wasn't a need for words then. You were both sharing pieces of yourselves that rarely saw the light of day, both showing more of yourselves than you had before. He didn't let go of your hand as the two of you made your way back towards where your carriage where your friends were no doubt waiting to take you back home.

The next morning brought the ache in your muscles and a sense of satisfaction as you stretched across your bed. The sun was up now, and it was later than you'd normally wake up. The peaceful moment was cut short too soon, a firm knock on your door before it swung open.

"You know, the point of knocking is to ask permission to come in. I don't think you're supposed to barge in right after you knock." You huffed, sitting up and making room for Jisung to perch himself on the edge of your bed. He handed you a piece of paper.

You unfolded it, reading the letter quietly. Your invitation to visit Felix's home, to be introduced to your future family. You stared at it, scanning the handwriting – his mother’s it would seem if you were reading the signature correctly – and the crest stamped onto the top of the paper. You knew it was coming, it had essentially been the only thing that had been spoken of since your engagement had been announced, but holding the letter in your hand felt surreal. Jisung reached out, putting his hand on your wrist.

"Y/N," He said. You looked at him, eyes wide. "It'll be fine. You have a few days still, just relax for now. Felix will be with you, and Changbin and I are coming too."

You nodded. You knew they'd go with you wherever you went, and that would be more than enough to get you through. But it was hard not to be overwhelmed by the idea of crossing into enemy territory where you knew you weren't welcomed.

"You should get ready for breakfast. I'm sure your father will want to talk to you about this." Jisung stood, ruffling your hair and laughing at the way that you swatted at his hand. With him out of your room, you were left to accept your fate, dragging yourself out of the safety of your bed to clean up and meet your father at breakfast.

The day was going about as well as you expected it to. Your father was giving you a full length rundown on what you needed to remember, how to make the best possible impression on people that already didn't like you very much. Part of you was relieved that Felix didn't show up for breakfast. The other part of you wondered if maybe he'd already left for home without warning you.

"Have you seen Felix?" You asked your father at the first given opportunity. He looked at you curiously, and you tried not to read into it. He shook his head.

"I haven't. Maybe one of your boys knows where he is. Why don't you go check up on him before he leaves?" Your father said. He was always good at reading you like that, knowing exactly what was going on in your mind. You were never great at hiding your thoughts, you'd learned that the hard way, but your father was even better at reading between the lines. Irritating.

"Thank you. I'll find you later," You smiled, excusing yourself to go in search of Jisung. Finding Jisung turned out to be quite unhelpful, he had been in charge of training for the day, and Felix was no longer under his watch. Which meant that you were on yet another wild goose chase, this time with your less than helpful best friend on your heels.

You’d hoped that maybe someone could point you in Felix’s direction, but the better part of an hour spent scouring the halls and rooms of the palace turned up nothing. Eventually, confused and frustrated, you excused yourself. Either Felix had left without a word, which seemed terribly unlike him, or he wasn’t looking to be found. There was no point in wasting a beautiful day without a packed schedule on searching for someone with no intentions of showing themselves.

As you often did when your anxieties were getting the better of you, you took to the outside, kicking your shoes off so that you could feel the bumps and dips of the ground beneath them as you wandered the gardens. Once you were far enough from the castle that no poor soul would wander across you unintentionally, you sprawled out on the ground, taking a deep breath.

The wind chimes in the garden had a way of calming you down, a song on the breeze as you laid in the grass. If you tried hard enough, you could practically hear the earth's energy thrumming under your body. Or maybe that was your own heartbeat, heavy and overtaking everything else.

Fear was a part of being alive, you knew that, but you hadn't missed feeling it so often. You didn't want to go to Felix's country, to the place you may one day call home, you didn't want to face any more scrutiny. You knew it wasn't gonna be easy, things rarely were, but you were beginning to wonder if you were strong enough to face it all head on.

You didn't know how long you laid there for, staring at the clouds as they morphed and passed overhead. The sun was high in the sky now, and hunger was beginning to settle in your stomach, but you still didn't feel much like moving.

"Mind some company?" Felix looked tired when he found you. You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. He didn't wait for your answer, laying himself in the grass beside you. "You know, there really should be a map of the gardens available, I was wandering in circles for ages before I found you."

You laughed.

"It's not so confusing, you just weren't paying attention on the tour." You said, turning to look at him. He giggled in response, and you felt a little bit better about everything.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked you. You looked back at the sky, lowering yourself back down to lay in the grass.

"Thinking. The fresh air helps keep me calm." You admitted. He made a quiet noise of recognition, clearly understanding the sentiment. "Can I tell you something? Something really stupid?"

He nodded, and you took a breath before speaking again.

"I'm really afraid. I don't know if I'm going to be able to pull this off." You said. Felix stayed quiet, and you figured he was waiting for you to elaborate. "I can't lie, and your family already doesn't like the fair folk. What's to say that they won't sabotage us?"

"Oh, that's easy." Felix said. "I won't let them. They might not like my decision, but there's not a thing about you that they can disapprove of, not really. Except your heritage, and they’d be stupid to try and intervene because of that. And if they can't find a good reason to disapprove of you, they won’t be able to call off what we've already started."

You didn't speak. You knew that they'd try. And of course you and Felix had been working to ensure there wasn't a single crack in the foundation of your plan, but you were still struggling to find security.

"Hey, do you trust me?" He asked. You looked at him.

"Yes." You trusted him more than you had even realized now that you thought about it. You trusted him with your life, and your secrets, and your space, and you were still on the fence about if that made you feel more secure or less.

"Then don't you worry your pretty little head." He stood up and held a hand out for you to take. You did, letting him help you to your feet. "I'm leaving in a little while, I have to meet with my parents and everything, get things set up for you to come. I wanted to say goodbye before I leave."

"Right, I had been looking for you too. I thought you'd already left, nobody knew where you were." You said, brushing off your clothes.

"Without saying goodbye? Never." He beamed, and you huffed out an almost laugh. “I found the library the other night, I’ve been studying up on Fae history. I figure it’s the sort of thing I should know about if I’m going to become King.”

You didn’t have any words for that, still not fully used to seeing him being serious about the whole situation. It was finally beginning to sink in that this was more than some elaborate trick, it was a marriage. You were going to truly promise yourself to him for the rest of your lives. You didn’t have anything more to say to that.

Felix let you lead the way back to the castle, reassuring you and going over his plans as many times as he could manage before you were back inside. Once you were inside, he promised that he'd do everything he could to make your stay less stressful.

"I'm serious, Y/N. We're gonna win, and we're gonna achieve our goals." He said, squeezing your hands before saying a quick goodbye, bowing to you deeply. You rolled your eyes at the grin on his lips when he straightened up. "I'll see you around, my prince."

Felix arrived back to his home late in the evening. The familiar paths into his city felt colder than usual, not as welcoming as he'd remembered them being. Everything gleamed silver and emerald green as he passed through the trees, and the buildings weaved and settled between them. Of course coming home was a relief, a reminder of what he was fighting for, but part of him ached to be able to be with you when you saw his home for the first time. That thought didn't last very long, it didn't have the chance as he was brought to the front steps of the palace.

Standing out front was his closest friend, clearly itching to greet him. Felix hurried to meet him, nearly jumping out of the carriage and wrapping his arms tight around Chan’s neck. His friend laughed.

"Congratulations, Felix." He said, squeezing his shoulders. "I can't believe you're getting married. My little brother all grown up,"

Felix shrugged off the teasing, flashing a matching grin to the older man as his things were unloaded by some of the palace workers.

"I can't believe they agreed to it. Just wait until you meet them.” He said. He was already on his way up the steps with his friend hot on his heels. "They'll be here the day after tomorrow, there's so much to do. Where are my parents?"

Being home brought a sense of ease that Felix had missed. He knew how to go about life here, how to interact with the people around him. He knew the halls like the back of his hand. He walked with Chan at his side all the way to his father's office. He was a ball of energy, not that energy was unprecedented for him. He opened the door without knocking, and his father didn't look the least bit surprised by the intrusion.

"Welcome home," He said, looking up from the papers he'd been working on. Felix bowed his head to his father before venturing further into the room. He sat down in the chair opposite him.

"It's nice to be back. Have things been alright while I was away?" He asked. His father straightened up, folding his hands on the desk in front of him, and Felix hummed, already knowing that this was going to be less than ideal.

"People want to know what's going on. They were bothered by your absence, you've never been one to leave for very long." He said. Felix nodded. "I haven't told them. I've been hoping you'd come to your senses."

"I have come to my senses, that's why I asked them to marry me in the first place. They'll be here in a few days, I'll make the announcement then. Is there a room set up for them?"

His father didn't speak, but that was enough of an answer. Felix stood up.

"Excuse me, then. I have to take care of getting things ready for the prince’s stay. I'll see you at dinner?"

With a final bow of his head, Felix swept out of the room, and Chan followed him. Felix's father wasn't a cold man, at least he never had been, but Felix knew well that they didn't see eye to eye on many things. He knew that he was taking a risk in marrying you without his family's approval, but he'd hoped all the same that his father would have come around to the idea after a few weeks of being apart.

"Right, do you know where my mom is?" Felix asked Chan, heading towards...well he actually wasn't sure where he was headed. His plans were minimal, and he'd never had to prepare for a guest like you before.

"She's away with your sisters, I think. She should be home in the morning." Chan explained. Felix sighed, and his friend slung an arm around his shoulders. "Relax, I started up arrangements as soon as I heard. Pick a room for them and we'll handle the rest."

So Felix took his time, examining several rooms in the guest wing until his workers were beginning to get fed up with the wait. He picked the one with the best view, an overlook of the river and the lush greenery that grew along it. It was the closest thing that he could find to the views back in the Fae realm.

"Why are you so worried?" Chan asked after a while of Felix hovering around the workers as they tried to set things up.

"They're scared." Felix answered easily. "Don't tell them I told you that, they're very proud. But I want this to be comfortable for them."

Admitting that out loud felt foreign, and he brushed off his friend's teasing as much as possible. Was it so abnormal to want someone to feel safe and comfortable when under your care?

"Do you think more candles would make this nicer?" He asked, looking around the room. "And we should get more blankets. It's colder here than they're used to."

Chan watched as his best friend fussed over the state of things. Chan had known Felix since they were kids, he was always the anxious type, but this was different. It was hard for him to even imagine that Felix didn't want to marry. Of course Felix hadn't told him that it was fake, but there weren't secrets between them. He'd know if Felix's feelings were true. Now, however, he was questioning how solid his theory about the legitimacy of the engagement was.

"Felix, maybe we can get this sorted out tomorrow, you have to be tired. And your mother can help better than I can." He squeezed Felix's shoulder, and his friend relaxed under the touch. He nodded, excusing the staff who were helping them. He sat at the edge of the bed, and Chan followed.

"Sorry. I just remember how stressed I was when I went there, and they were so accommodating. And you know how my dad is, I want to make sure they feel safe in here at least." He leaned back on his hands, groaning softly.

"I don't know how anyone could be uncomfortable with you," Chan promised. "Come on, I'm sure your betrothed wouldn't want you awake all night for their sake. Bedtime."

Felix didn't argue with Chan, he knew that he needed sleep, even if you probably wouldn't care if he stayed up all night. He laid awake in his bed, wondering again what you were doing, if the nerves were getting the best of you.

The morning wasn't any less stressful for Felix or the staff that had to deal with him. He was happy to see his mother, of course he was, and she did her best to keep him from getting lost in his head. However he was still overthinking every aspect of your visit that was under his control.

"Make sure to bring in extra blankets. It's warmer there than it is here." He mentioned once again, a message that Chan promptly passed on to one of the staff. Felix was quiet a moment longer, his friend and his mother letting him think. "Flowers, we should put flowers in their room. Carnations. No, wait."

Chan watched as a smile grew on his friend's face, a sure fire sign that he'd had a brilliant idea.

"I want lily of the valley in their room. Loads of them. Fresh. I don't care about the cost." He said. The staff shared looks, but they scurried off to have flowers brought up. Chan excused himself then too, leaving Felix alone with his mom. She smiled at her son. He finally looked like he'd let himself relax.

"You really care about them. I have to say I'm surprised." She said, reaching out to give Felix's hand an affectionate squeeze. Felix himself was a bit surprised too, a curiosity seeping in around the edges. When had he taken on this role of protecting you and fussing over you? Where was the line between make believe and reality? Had he crossed it already? It didn’t matter either way, he supposed,

"I do care about them. It's hard not to, you'll understand when you meet them." He said.

The ride from your kingdom to Felix's was long, and you had a hard time getting any rest what with the constant, shifting worry in your chest. Your friends were with you, the both of them doing their best not to let on how obvious your fear was. They were good to you like that, always trying not to make you feel too terribly transparent. Unfortunately, you'd gotten to know their tells pretty well, and it was only giving you more reason to worry.

"If you keep it up you'll stop breathing altogether," Jisung noted, a smile on his lips. You looked at him, laughing for the first time in days.

"Would that be so terrible?" You joked. Changbin gave your arm a light pinch, and you swatted at him. "Joking, only kidding. I'm nervous."

"But you'll get to see Felix again," Jisung pointed out. You ignored the flutter in your chest. Seeing Felix again might make this whole thing less suffocating. He was good, you had to finally admit to yourself that he was in fact very good. And marrying him may not be the end of the world after all.

"We're almost there, your highness." Changbin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, gesturing out the window. You could see the palace now, and the sprawling grounds that it sat on. A spread of deep green grass and trees so dense that you could hardly see through them. The palace stood tall, silvery and so bright that you could barely look at it with the sun beating down the way that it was.

Truly, it was all very beautiful, and it reminded you of Felix in its shimmering elegance. The stop of the carriage jolted you a little, and you straightened quickly. You'd been trained for this, you were a diplomat, and this was no different than any other diplomatic meeting you'd sat through. You were here to form an alliance.

You waited however impatiently for the door to your carriage to open, used to the order of events. Changbin got out first, decked out in full uniform, handing off his weapons. Then he helped you out with a small nod of reassurance. Jisung followed after, bringing up the rear. There were more guards than you were comfortable with, especially with the prejudices you'd heard of your entire life. Nevertheless, you rolled your shoulders back and took a deep breath. There wasn't enough time to work yourself up, because before you could, the doors to the palace were opening, and Felix was standing there, and things didn't seem nearly as intimidating as they had a few moments before.

He looked like he was out of breath, but his lips curled into a grin, and he laughed. The sound felt like pure sunbeams, warming your skin and making you laugh in return. His guards bowed in his presence, and you followed suit.

"Welcome," He waved you up the steps, and you didn't hesitate to walk them as quickly as you could without tripping. At the top of them, he caught your hand, bowing before you and bringing it to his lips. You rolled your eyes, and for a moment all of the stress was gone. "I meant to be out here when you arrived, but I got caught up."

"But you're here now. And thank goodness, because I think I might have died if I had to meet your parents without you." You said quietly, and he laughed. He offered you his arm, and you looped your hand into it, letting him lead you forward.

"How was your trip?" He asked. You shrugged.

"It was long, not particularly eventful. Your kingdom is beautiful. I never knew that," You admitted. He chuckled. When you looked at him, you couldn't help but notice all the ways that he looked different in the light of his home than he had in yours. His hair seemed curlier, falling around his face in waves, and his freckles were even more prominent, reminiscent of the way the stars dotted the sky back home really late at night. You wanted to look at them closer, but then he was turning to look at you.

"I'm glad you like it. It'll be yours soon, too." He met your eye, and his eyes looked brighter than they had before. You nodded, remembering the way you'd told him not to speak of your home and your people as if he were entirely separate from them.

"I'm glad to be a part of someplace like this." You said.

He stopped, and you looked at the doorway you stood in front of. The doors were large, thick slabs of wood intricately painted in gold and bronze, inlaid with gems you'd never seen in person before. The way the light hit them made it look like they were glowing. Felix laid his other hand over where yours rested in the crook of his elbow.

"It's gonna be fine. You know that right?" He asked you. You looked at him and put on your best smile.

"I trust you." You couldn't say that you knew that, you didn't really, but your trust in Felix was the next best thing. You probably wouldn't be willing to step foot in that room if it weren't for his presence at your side.

Felix nodded for the doors to be opened, and the guards did just that. Inside the room, it was just as intimidating as the doors. The vaulted ceilings were gilded gold, the color shifting in the light of the room into shades of red and orange. The pillars were intricately carved into the shapes of tree trunks so large and detailed that you wanted to reach out and touch them to see if they were real.

At the head of the room, a stunning couple sat in a pair of thrones. You let out a shaky breath as Felix let go of your hand. It fell to your side, and you took another couple steps forward before dipping into a deep bow. You held yourself there, your heartbeat thrumming deafeningly in your ears. They didn't speak for what felt like centuries, and your hands began to shake before finally the King acknowledged you.

"You may stand, prince of the fae." He said. And you did. "Welcome to our palace. It's been quite some time since we've had one of your kind in our midst."

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and put on a smile.

"Thank you, your majesty. It's been some time since my people have been welcomed into your home with such grace." You shouldn't have mentioned it, but you figured it was polite enough to slide. Felix stepped to your side, close enough that you could feel the warmth rolling off of him.

"Allow me to properly introduce you. Y/N, these are my parents. And this is Prince Y/N, my fiance." Felix was practically beaming, and you wondered if it was an act or if he was genuinely happy to be introducing you to his parents. You supposed it didn't matter either way. You smiled.

"It's truly an honor to meet you. You've raised a wonderful son, I'm grateful to have met him." You said. His mother seemed pleased with the compliment, but his father was still looking at you as if you were a nuisance, a speed bump in his way.

"You're serious about this wedding business, then?" His father asked. You stiffened, wings fluttering a little as you shifted your weight. Felix, however, clearly expected the question to come up.

"Of course we are. I don't typically joke about things as serious as my kingdom's future." He sounded irritated, his voice sharper than you were used to.

"I know it seems outlandish, but please understand that I really don't have ill intentions in marrying your son." You said.

"And why should I believe in a trickster? Your people are known for their mischief, aren't they? They find pleasure in causing problems for other people?" Your hands twitched towards fists, a look of disgust crossing your features. The king held up his hands in mock surrender. "I mean no offense, really. But with the things your people have done to my country, I have no reason to believe this is anything more than a power play."

"Father," Felix half snapped, his tone laying out a warning. He looked at you, and you couldn't read the look in his eye. Fear, or desperation, or concern. Something that made your chest feel heavy. You swallowed your pride, and the anger bubbling within you. How dare he speak to you like that, regardless of his position as king?

"It's alright, Felix. He's just worried about his kingdom. Any king would be. I was, too." You promised him. "I know the reputation that your people have given us, but it’s imperative to remember that mischief is harmless in nature. I wouldn't put my own people at risk by pulling some ridiculous stunt to bring down a perceived enemy. I'm not worried enough about this petty war to do something so underhanded."

The silence was thick, tension descending like fog, and you could practically hear your friends smirking from their positions just inside the doors. You couldn't imagine that they were holding up much better than you were, and you were half grateful that their weapons had been confiscated upon arriving with how proud they could be.

"And if it isn't for political gain, why would you want to marry into our family?" Felix's mother spoke this time, and you felt a little more at ease speaking to her. The question was one you'd practiced answering a hundred times. A twisted truth, an irrelevant response spoken like a proper answer.

"I know Felix will make a good husband. He's intelligent, and charming, and he will make a wonderful king one day." You said, turning to smile at him, and he smiled back, his cheeks tinting pink at the praise.

"How can you claim to want to marry someone you hardly know?" The king spoke again, this time aiming the sharp words towards Felix. He cleared his throat.

"I know them well enough. And I know where you stand on the fair folk, I wasn't going to rush into an introduction just to let anyone else come between us." He said. You hadn't ever heard Felix be so stern with anyone, and it was more jarring than you'd expected. "But I've wanted to be with them for a very long time now, and I know them better than nearly anyone in this place knows me."

His words hung in the air, and it almost looked like his mother wanted to call him to her, but she didn't. His father scoffed, and once again your heart sank.

"How long have you even known them? A month?" He asked.

"Centuries. We met as children at a masquerade a long time ago. And I've wanted to be with them from the moment I laid eyes on them." He said. And he said it with such conviction that you damn near believed it was true. The way he looked at you, the glimmer in his eye, you swallowed and lowered your eyes to the ground. "And now I get the chance to spend the rest of my life with them. I'd be a fool not to take it."

Once again it was quiet, and you looked up at them. Both of them were staring at you, sizing you up as you stood in front of them, and you ached to run away. Somehow standing here was even more terrifying than standing in front of the entire populace of your country. You could feel the anxiety building, the overwhelming want to simply not be there anymore, your engagement be damned. You were shaking again, and your breath was picking up too fast.

Felix's hand found yours, his fingers folding between yours and squeezing your hand tightly like you had squeezed his before. He soothed the shaking, holding you steady without so much as a tremble in the stare that he sent back towards his parents. He was protecting you at all costs, that had been his promise. And you trusted him, more than you trusted almost anyone. He wasn't going to let you down. This was going to work out.

"Your father approves of this?" The queen addressed you. You nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. He thinks Felix is lovely, that he'll make a good addition to our family and country." You answered her calmly. "And he knows that I don't take important decisions lightly."

"And you don't think there are any suitors that would be a better fit for...your kind?" The king questioned, leaning back in his throne as if you weren’t the wasted energy to sit up.

"I don't think there are any suitors who will understand me or my devotion to my people the way that Felix will."

"Are there other suitors at all? You seem quite keen on choosing my son."

"You don't seem keen on me choosing your son at all," You noted. "I can understand your hesitance, and I mean no disrespect, your majesty, but it doesn't seem fair not to trust your son's judgment. I've never met anyone as devoted to his people as Felix, he would give up anything for the things that he cares about. I admire that very much. And whether or not I have other suitors – which I do, I might add – he's the only one worth my time."

The room was growing quite warm, or maybe that was the way your anger was coming to a rolling boil in your chest. You were waiting eagerly for him to say another terrible thing about you, or your people, or, god forbid, about Felix. That didn't come, however. His father was entirely subdued by your statement, clearly biting his tongue. Instead, his mother smiled.

"It's getting late. I'm sure our guest is hungry and exhausted after such a long trip. How about we all get ourselves ready for dinner?" She said, standing up and smoothing her gown out. She looked at her husband, clearly not intending to take no for an answer. He nodded, and you bowed again.

"I'm grateful for your hospitality, your majesty." You said before Felix tugged at your hand. He bowed his head towards his parents and led you out of the room. You pulled your hand from his once the door was closed.

"Can you show their guards to their rooms?" Felix requested. You nodded for Changbin and Jisung to follow the staff down the hall, promising that you'd see them as soon as possible to fill them in on anything they missed. Once it was just the two of you, you turned to Felix with fire raging in your eyes that hadn’t been there moments before.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing Lee Felix?" You snapped. He looked taken aback by your rage, his eyes going wide. He'd believed Changbin when he said that you could handle yourself, but this was downright terrifying. "Talking about us having met before, the story about the ball? We talked about this, I can't lie. You cannot risk backing me into a corner like that. I'm trying so fucking hard to be considerate, and you aren't even thinking about how you might impact me. You’re not the only one playing this game.”

Felix reached out, grabbing you by the shoulders and squeezing.

"What happened to trusting me? Tell me, did we meet before the day I showed up in your kingdom? Before the day I asked you to marry me?" He asked. You rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to say no, but the word seemed to slip away, just out of reach. You pressed your lips together at the familiar feeling of trying to tell a lie, the way it sucked your voice away and made you feel faint.

"We'd met before." You said after a moment, after the full realization that you couldn't say you didn't know him. "You never told me?"

"I didn't think it was relevant."

"Idiot." You shook his hands off of your arms, still frustrated that he'd managed to trick you, but much less angry than you'd begun.

"Don't you remember? At the human masquerade ball when we were young. During the winter holidays?" He asked you. You thought, it had been so long ago that it was tricky to decipher the moments from one another, all of the memories swirling together.

You weren't sure where your father had gotten off to, but you were left alone in the room full of people, the music was loud, and the voices that battled to be heard by one another were beginning to grate on you. There were plenty of adults around, talking about things that you didn't really care about. The children younger than you were running and playing, likely to their parents' disdain. Human parents seemed more strict about playfulness than your own people. It was strange to you.

You, however, were standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching the swirling pattern of the dress clothes as couples danced and spun around the floor in each other's arms. You loved dancing, but with your usual dance partners not permitted to attend the ball, and the only other person you knew your age being the guest of honor and having his own duties to attend to, you were left to watch on your own.

You stood there on your own for several songs, finally preparing yourself to say goodbye to your friend and beg your father to leave early. But as soon as the thought crossed your mind, a blonde haired boy stopped in front of you. He bowed, and when he straightened up you were met with the brightest grin you'd ever seen. The upper half of his face was obscured by his gold and white mask save for his dark brown eyes. You could see a hint of freckles if you looked close enough, and shone in the light of the ballroom.

"Would you like to dance?" He asked, holding out his hand to you. You looked at it, then at him once again. You didn't know him, at least not as far as you could recognize behind the mask. You took his hand, and let him lead you to the floor just in time for the next song to pick up.

The boy pulled you close, a hand on your waist and the other holding yours as you followed his lead, the string instruments filling the room like a wave of butterflies, the two of you dancing on their wings. He was friendly, and you talked to him all throughout the dance. He was a good dancer too, you noticed. An elf if his ears were anything to go off of.

"Do you know the Prince?" He asked you. You nodded, losing sight of him for a moment as the dance swept you away from him to spin in a circlet of dancers before returning to his arms.

"I do, I met him recently. Our families have been friends for a millennium." You answered. He smiled, and your stomach swooped at the sight.

"He's a close friend of mine, it's unfortunate that we haven't met before this." He said, leaning close to you. He smelled of citrus and damp soil, and honestly it was lovely.

"Well I'm glad we've met now. I was beginning to think I should just leave." You said in response. "But now I have a dance partner. Makes it worth staying."

"Do you like dancing then? That's why you came?"

"Dancing is the closest thing to flying. I haven't flown in a long time." You admitted.

The conversation went on like that, a steady back and forth, digging into things you wouldn't dare to tell anyone who knew you well. It was easy to talk to him, and as the night came to a close, as your mother told you it was time to leave, you were forced to say goodbye.

"Wait," You said, catching his hand in yours. He looked back at you. "May I know your name?"

He shook his head, and his hand slipped out of yours. Your heart sank. You'd known plenty of people who had disliked your people, who had their beliefs about you, however wrong they may be. But that hadn't ever bothered you.

"Because I'm fae?" You asked. He shook his head with a laugh of disbelief.

"No, it's not that," He brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it and watching your eyes go wide behind your mask. "But we all have things that are better left a secret, I think my identity is one of those things. But if we're meant to meet again, we will, I'm sure. Until next time."

His lips quirked into a smirk that held a sort of mischief you'd never seen from an elf before, and then he was slipping away into the crowd of people.

The memory had been tucked deep in your mind, buried far enough away that you hadn't thought of it in years.

"You knew who I was?" You asked.

"I recognized your parents, and Seungmin talked highly of you. It was easy enough to figure out." He shrugged, and you huffed again. Annoying, just as he always was.

"You could have at least warned me." You continued your scolding. He bowed his head with a sheepish half-grin that made it incredibly hard to stay irritated.

"I hope you can forgive me, I would hate to have you mad at me for the rest of our lives." He said. You could hear the uptick of a smile in his voice. You ignored it, opting to accept the apology. "Come on, let's get to dinner."

Dinner went about as uncomfortably as one could expect it to. His parents weren't your biggest fans, and the small talk was excruciating. The worst of it was the way they spoke of your people. Underhanded slander and backhanded compliments that stung like a slap to the face over and over again. The fair folk weren't keen on being spoken to the way you were being spoken to, and every comment made you feel more and more like you were being burned alive.

Throughout the night, the conversation weighed heavy. Questions about your intentions, about your dreams for the future. You maneuvered it as carefully as you could, and the whole time you could feel Felix's eyes on you. He tried as well as he could to keep things light, and you were genuinely grateful to have him on your side. It made enduring such torture a little bit easier.

You didn't get to see your friends during the meal, and by the time that you were finally being escorted to your room, it was too late to bother them with your frustrations. You decided that sleep might be the best choice for the time being, you'd at least get a moment with your boys in the morning.

The staff showed you to your room, noting that Changbin was roomed to your right, Jisung straight across the hall. You thanked them politely, letting yourself into the room. The second the door was closed, you were sighing, burying your face in your hands and trying to hide from the world around you. But your room smelled familiar, it smelled like home. Sweet, and light. You opened your eyes, letting your hands fall back to your sides.

The room was large, a sitting area in front of you, and a bed hidden behind bed curtains to your left. And everywhere you looked, perched beside the bed, and on the table in the sitting area, and sat on either side of the window were vases of flowers. Lily of the valley. Your favorite. An unspoken reminder from Felix that he cared enough to give you a piece of home.

You walked to the window, reaching out to brush your fingertips over the delicate flowers and watching as they danced under your touch. You blinked a few times, tears beginning to well in your eyes. This was too much, he was taking too much care to make you feel at peace even in a place that wanted nothing to do with you. You sniffled, letting out a little laugh. Maybe it wasn't love, but how could you wallow in self pity when you were marrying the kindest man you'd ever met?

You made a mental note to thank him for his hospitality, and you wondered if he knew how much he meant to you. You didn't think you'd tell him that part just yet. You sat at the edge of the bed, looking out the window at the river that laid below. The dark made it hard to make out anything else, but it was still lovely, watching the moon reflect on the water even from so far away.

Sleep came quickly once you finally settled in bed for, which you were incredibly grateful for, and the morning was as easy as mornings could be. You, despite loving the world and the chance to be in it, weren't a fan of waking up. However the sun coming straight in the window had other plans for you. So you reluctantly got cleaned up, and settled in the window for a bit more time observing the country from afar.

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts, and you fully expected it to be Changbin coming to check on you. When you opened it, however, Felix was standing there looking just as radiant as he had the day before. In his hands was a sizable tray of food.

"I brought you breakfast. I figured you could use a little rest before going back into battle with my parents." He said, holding the tray out for you. You took it, only finally realizing that you were beginning to get hungry.

"Come in," You motioned for him to come inside, bringing the tray of food to sit on the small table. He made himself comfortable, sitting down in one of the chairs and motioning for you to sit and eat. And of course it would be rude to decline such an offer from your host. You sat down, quickly beginning to eat from a bowl of berries that were served up for you.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked. You nodded.

"Yeah, I slept great. And the flowers and everything…It’s all amazing, I really needed that last night." You gave him an appreciative smile, turning back to your meal. Felix puffed up with pride, happy to have gotten at least something right to make you comfortable during your trip.

"Good. My father is busy today, so I can show you around if you want. Or you can just relax." He said. You shrugged.

"Maybe we can do both. We can spend some time here, work out some of the logistics of everything. And you can show me around later if you want to. I'd love to see." You offered him a piece of strawberry on the end of your fork. He leaned forward and took it.

"Yeah, that works for me." He agreed. You smiled, poking at your eggs.

"Right then. So we're engaged, and I'm meeting your family now. I think, for everyone's sake, it's better for us to get on with the wedding as soon as possible. To get everyone off our backs and so we don't have to keep tricking everyone all the time."

If you were being honest, the secrets were getting overwhelming. You were an honest person by nature, and having to keep everything hidden was exhausting. Felix seemed to understand by the way he hummed in agreement.

"Right. So we should get to finalizing everything soon. The date and invitations and stuff? There's some hoops to jump through, right?" He said. You nodded.

"I can handle most of the planning, now that you're back home I imagine you're busier than I am." You said. "Plus I have Changbin to help. He might be a dork, but he's reliable."

"And I can introduce you to some friends, they'll be able to help when I'm busy. But I don't want you to think that you're alone in this either, I want to help." He said. You smiled. He wanted to help? This man and his surprises.

"Right, of course. And I won't make any final decisions without your approval. You will only get one wedding, I'm afraid. You're stuck with me." You nudged at his arm, and he had to note that you'd never touched him so casually. He liked knowing that you were comfortable around him.

"Oh, we’ll have to figure out customs and such. I don’t know much about Elven culture and weddings. If there’s important things I need to plan for, you have to tell me" You said.

Much to your surprise, talking to Felix about your wedding wasn't full of dread. It was actually quite fun to plan it all out. You may even, if you were going to admit it, go so far as to say you were growing excited at the prospect of the wedding. When the first break came around, you'd both been discussing wedding customs for nearly two hours. It was funny how relaxed you were when it was just you and Felix, and you were relieved to see that he felt the same way.

"I wanted to tell you that I really didn't intend to upset you with the story about us meeting," Felix said. "I know it wasn't very fair to assume you remembered, and you're right, I didn't think before I spoke. That might be my fatal flaw."

"It's really fine. I remember always wondering what you were so mysterious for back then. And I never saw you again after that night."

"Honestly, it was ridiculous. I wanted you to try and find me again. I thought you were cute," He laughed. The sort of frantic nervous laugh that he let out when he said something embarrassing. "I figured that since we were both friends with Seungmin it would be easy, but I never heard from you. I asked about you, you know?"

"You asked about me?"

"Yeah, I was close with him for a long time, and I swear I asked about you every time I saw him for a while. He never had any news to report. I actually thought for a while that you stopped talking to him because of me."

You laughed, shifting in your seat to look at him better.

"You know, not everything is about you." You teased him. He laughed too, and you were glad that he recognized your joke. "It's been a really long time since I've been friends with anyone outside my own kingdom. It's just been me, Changbin, and Jisung most of our lives."

"Why?"

"I stopped leaving home. Diplomacy wasn't as safe anymore, it was left mostly to my father. And he didn't like me to leave unless necessary after my mother."

"She passed when you were young right? Not long after we met."

You nodded, looking down at your hands and pressing your lips together. You didn't talk about your mother very often. Honestly, you didn't need to. It had been a long time since you'd lost her, and the sting had finally faded into a nagging itch when you thought about her. But you spent plenty of time at her tree in the gardens, or talking to her when things were hard. She couldn't respond, but it always helped.

"She was fighting in the war. My father didn't want her on the front lines, but she was the best archer that our people had. The battles weren't usually as long winded or as fatal as that one." You let out a laugh, bitter and wet as you blinked back tears. "My father was destroyed. The fair folk marry for life, you know. My parents were the closest thing to soulmates I'd ever seen. Losing my mother made my father bitter. He wanted to take away as much from as many elves as he could. That's why I'm determined to end it. I don't want it to eat away at him any longer. I don't want it to eat away at me any longer."

Felix didn't speak, and you couldn't really blame him for not knowing what to say. You sniffled and cleared your throat. You rarely got so emotional over it all.

"Anyway, where were we?" You said, nodding to the lists that the two of you had been working on. Guests and arrangements. The colors, the flowers. You knew it was involved, but this seemed all too much. The guest list was more than the amount of people you even knew by name, and to think that you'd be signing your life away in front of them all was overwhelming.

"I think we've worked enough for the day, don't you?" Felix asked. You were reluctant, there was only so much time that you could spend, but you gave in. "Let me show you my home,"

The rest of your day was spent walking the castle grounds, exploring all of the places that Felix had played as a child, the places he went when there were things on his mind. It was beautiful, you had to admit. The trees were tall, surrounding the castle like a wall, and you ached to climb into their limbs. The entire country appeared to be lush, darker shades of green than you were used to back home, and the silvery-grey of the palace nearly blended in with the filtered light through the trees.

Hearing about Felix’s life made it feel like this was real, nothing more than visiting someone that you were growing fond of spending time with. The pressure was gone as you followed his lead, watching him show off a rather rusty cartwheel and laughing when you did one in return. You felt like a kid again, the same way you’d felt when you first met him.

The next few weeks after your little tour were busier than you were used to. When you weren't being subjected to the harsh criticism of your future in-laws, you were wedding planning with Felix, and if you weren't wedding planning with Felix you were working on arrangements with his friends. You were grateful for them too, knowing anyone else in the entirety of the country made you feel a little more at home.

However, Changbin had been nagging that the stress wasn't good for you. You knew he was right, but the wedding date was closing in faster than you could really comprehend. You were pacing your room, flipping through the various papers and lists that you needed to finish. You'd had all of the invitations sent out already, and you'd left catering to Chan to sort, but now you were having to decide between the different types of decorations. Who even knew there was a difference between half of these fabrics?

"Will you please just take a break?" Felix begged from where he was sprawled across your bed. He had been helping as much as he could, but he had plenty on his plate too. You shook your head.

"I need to get this taken care of." You tossed a couple fabric swatches to him. "Which one of these is better for the tablecloths?"

He brushed them both aside without a second thought.

"Either one is fine. I don't think it matters that much." He said. You huffed, walking over to pick up the samples, smoothing them out again and putting them back on the table with the others. "Felix, you're not helping. I can't do everything myself, you know."

You rubbed your hands over your face. You still had to organize your final fittings, and Felix's probably since you were pretty sure he hadn't gotten that taken care of either. You sat down in the chair. You had hardly been sleeping, and your head was pounding.

"Seriously, you need a break. Have you eaten? I can have something made." He said, sitting up. You shook your head.

"I don't want to eat, dinner will be soon. I just want to get this shit over with." You knew you were being snippy, and that not everything was Felix's fault, but you were beginning to feel alone in whatever this convoluted engagement was, and it was absolutely exhausting. "The sooner we get this wedding over with, the sooner we can just stop playing this ridiculous game."

With your head in your hands you couldn't see the way Felix deflated, you couldn't see the look of hurt that flashed across his face. He scoffed. Right, game. He had just about forgotten that this was all some game of house, all a means to an end.

"I'm pretty sure I'm just getting in your way now." He said, standing up from your bed. "I'm gonna take a break. We can pick this back up after dinner time."

You stood up too, turning to face him as he reached your bedroom door.

"I just said I wanted to finish this, and you’re taking a break? I know you don't want to do any of this but we have to. You're the one who got me into this, I need your help." You were practically begging now, your voice rising louder than you should have let it.

"I get it, you're stressed. But I don't know why you care so much about this wedding. It's not like you actually want to marry me in the first place. So let's just take a break. It's gonna be fine." His voice was thick, the weight of his words just a painful reminder that he was throwing himself mind, heart, and soul into a one sided marriage. The pain he was willing to endure for his country had no end it would seem.

"Yes I do, Felix." You said, fully shouting now. There was no hesitation as the words came out. He stopped in his tracks, and his eyes searched your face. You tipped your head down, avoiding his gaze at all costs. Your heart was beating hard enough that it was rattling your chest. It felt like you couldn't catch your breath, and your hands were shaking with nerves again. Damn your hands, and damn your anxiety, and damn the world for putting you through stress when all you wanted was a moment to breathe.

"You do what?" He asked. You didn't answer. So again, he asked you. "You do what, Y/N? Tell me."

You do what? You care? You want this? Was that it? You wanted to marry Felix? Of course you did, anyone would be stupid not to. You'd met plenty of people in your life, but none of them were so glowingly good as Lee Felix. He was a dream wrapped up in pretty packaging, and he was good to you. What more could you really ask?

“I want to marry you. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to marry you." You said. "I want to do what's best for the people who rely on me, and I want to do right by you. I wouldn't marry you if I was going to make you miserable for the rest of your life."

Felix still looked like a kicked puppy, and you wondered if his mind was racing as fast as yours was, if his body was overheating like yours. Was it stuffy in your room? You moved to open the window, leaning against the window sill and staring at the river.

"I need to get ready for dinner. Can you..." You didn't want to speak for fear of bursting at the seams and spilling your deepest secrets. You were already dangerously close to a precipice that was looking all too inviting. A leap of faith so to speak, a chance to stretch your wings and test the limits of your emotions.

"Right. I'll see you at dinner, then." He said quietly. Your throat felt like it was closing, choking down your breath and your panic in one fell swoop. He sounded almost broken. You'd never heard him sound like that, and it was making some sharp, sour feeling bloom in your stomach. The door to your room closed, and you let out a shaky breath.

It was another hour until dinner, and all you did during that hour was pace your room so much that you half worried you'd walk a hole through the floor. That, however, was the least of your worries. You tried to get some more work finished, but the only thing you could think about was the conversation you'd had, and the look on his face when Felix left. You'd wanted to comfort him, to make it better, to soften whatever blows he was taking.

When you made it to dinner, the conversation at the table was much quieter than usual, mostly to do with the fact that Felix wasn't trying to bridge the gap between you and his parents. As far as they were concerned, you were no threat anymore, but you weren't family either. They had traded contempt for utter indifference that left your encounters with one another dry and empty. You wondered where Felix got his sunshine-y nature from.

You looked up from your meal, across the table to where Felix was sitting. He didn't look like he'd eaten more than a handful of bites in the past twenty minutes since he'd sat down. Although, in all fairness, you hadn't either. You could tell that his parents had noticed the change too, and you bitterly wondered if they blamed you for it. You blamed yourself for it, it would make sense for them to as well.

"Forgive me, I don't feel very well. I think I should excuse myself." You said. The king nodded, and you stood. Felix was quick to stand with you, but you shook your head. "I can go on my own. You should finish eating with your parents."

He sat down slowly, and you turned to leave. You could feel the burning of their eyes on your back, and you pushed down the embarrassment that rose with it. You walked for so long that you weren't actually sure where it was that you were going, down winding halls, up and down unfamiliar staircases until you somehow managed to land in front of Changbin's door. Fate, you figured in the back of your mind, it meant you needed him most right now.

You brought your hand up, knocking a few times and praying that he was inside. You waited for a long moment, seconds of silence ticking by and suffocating you. You knocked again, even louder this time, desperately. You could hear sound behind the door, and you suddenly worried that you'd interrupted something more intimate than you'd like to. How would you have known, you'd hardly seen him with how much you were moving around the past few days. He opened the door, looking baffled but put together enough that it eased your nerves.

"Do you have a few minutes?" You asked, looking away from him, instead focusing over his shoulders into his room. Anything to keep you from having to meet his eye. He stepped aside so you could come inside. You thanked him quietly, walking in and sitting down at the edge of his bed. He moved to sit at the center of it, waiting for you to begin.

The thing about Seo Changbin is that after so many years of being best friends, he knew you better than yourself. He was distinctly good at mapping out boundaries that you didn't know existed, or picking up on the subtleties of your emotions that you could swear up and down weren't there. It's precisely the reason that you would always seek him out at moments like this.

When he didn't speak, you flopped backwards, haphazardly falling into his lap. He laughed, and you smiled, grateful for the change in the energy. You looked up at him, and he put a hand on your shoulder, shaking it lightly.

"Alright, alright. I'm having a hard time with this wedding thing." You explained. His expression softened, his smile fading until it was a shadow over his worry. "I don't want to back out, or anything, it's not like that. But it's stressing me out a lot, and we argued, I guess."

"You and Felix?"

You nodded.

"What was the fight about?"

"I don’t think he cares about this wedding as much as I do. But it's important that it goes well, it's the only one we're going to have. And I don't not want to marry him, so it makes sense that I'd want our wedding to be perfect, right? But he just wants to get it over with. Which I guess I do too, but only because I don't want to carry all of the stress anymore."

You sat up, getting off the bed and beginning your pacing again. Being on your feet always helped you work through your chaotic thoughts easier. You paced, spinning in circles and bouncing on the balls of your feet while Changbin processed what you'd said.

"Right. So you fought because he doesn't want to get married?" He asked you.

"Sort of. We fought because he made me feel unimportant. And then he said that he knows I don't want to marry him and..." You stopped, groaning out dramatically. "I said that I do, and I don't know what I’m doing anymore. I’m so irritated, and I’m tired, and I’m lost"

You knew what you’d meant, but you weren't sure you could fully comprehend how to accept that truth. Admitting what you were feeling was accepting a completely different fate, it would change the entire plan. Most of all, the feeling it gave you made you want to bolt even more than you already did.

"Okay, why are you freaking out?" He asked. You looked at him, stopping your incessant pacing and instead fiddling with your fingers.

"I don't want there to be tension between us, and I don't want him to think that I'm marrying him because I think that I have to." You said after a moment of thinking. Changbin hummed, moving to the edge of the bed and resting his elbows on his knees. Having his attention on you made you restless, shifting your weight from side to side.

"Why are you marrying him, then? If you don’t think you have to," He asked. You didn't like the way he asked; The placement of his words, or the way he'd linger on a thought, mull it over in his head, then pick his words with a distinct care. It felt like a game of chess, all strategy. You'd never been any good at chess.

"Because it'll be good for us, for our countries. And I could do a lot worse, Felix is a good person." You said. Changbin nodded, still looking at you. You knew he was waiting for you to continue, but you weren't sure what to say so you just kept shifting your weight. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, the gentle swaying helped to sooth the racing of your heart in your chest.

"What makes him a good person?" He asked, "How do you feel about him?"

"He's smart, and charming, and he's not as stuck up as he seems at first." You said, a smile growing on your lips as you thought back on how much he'd irritated you when you'd first met him. "He's so passionate about so many things, and he loves when other people are passionate. And when he cares about someone, he cares about them so deeply that it's like they become a part of him."

"Is that why you want to marry him?"

You nodded. Changbin hummed, and you stopped moving finally.

"Y/N," You looked at him, and he gave you a half smile. "Do you love him?"

"What sort of question is that?” You hissed. “You know we’re playing pretend.”

“Do I? Answer the question.”

“He’s a good person, Bin. I mean, he’s smart, and he’s sweet, and he understands the way my brain works, and–”

“Hey!”

Your eyes snapped towards Changbin, your words cutting short. “Do you love Lee Felix?”

“Yes.”

Once again, the word slipped out before you could think about it, before you could dance around the question. And it was as if the entire world stopped spinning so suddenly that it knocked you off your feet. You stumbled back, your mouth agape as you tried to process the confession you'd made.

"Do you love him the way you love me?" Changbin kept pressing, but he sounded more careful now, like the wrong question would shatter whatever strength you still had in your body. You shook your head.

"No. No, I love him like I would rather never run or dance or fly or sing again if he wanted someone else. I love him so much that it scares me to even think about telling him. Because what if he doesn't love me like that? Like he needs me to breathe?" You were growing frantic, your wings flipping and fluttering in distress. Changbin stood up then, grabbing your hands to make you focus back on him.

"It's okay, breathe." Changbin tried, but you were too deep in your head, panic rising and tears welling in your eyes. Damn it all. You groaned.

"I need air," You didn't wait to hear what he had to say, pushing yourself to move, to half run out the door and close it behind you. The hallway felt cooler than Changbin's room had, but it wasn't enough. You weren't sure where you were going all over again, trying to keep your breathing from turning into full blown hyperventilation as you followed the corridor down to the stairs, taking them as fast as you could without falling, and continuing towards what you hoped was the main hall that would at least take you outside. Outside, that was enough to give you a goal to focus on.

"Hey," A voice called out to you, and you felt yourself go dizzy. Were you breathing? You stopped in your tracks, looking over to where Felix was standing. Where did he come from? What had he been doing that had him out so late? Was he looking for you? You inhaled sharply, a gasp for air. Felix was at your side before you could even squeeze words out.

You tried to scramble away from him, to sidestep him so you could keep walking. You didn't know how to talk to him right now. You were unsuccessful as Felix stepped with you, still blocking your path forward. You glared at him, but he didn't budge. Damn him and his unstoppable heart. The heart that had fooled yours into falling.

"What's the matter?" He insisted.

"Get out of my way, Felix."

"Not until you tell me why you looked so upset. If we're getting married, I want to know that you can talk to me. Please,"

You ignored him, moving to shoulder past him, but his hands caught your arms, dragging you back to stand in front of him with a strength that honestly surprised you. You groaned in frustration, shaking his hands off of you. You were crying, which you had been trying not to do. You lifted your hands up, swiping the tears away furiously. Your breath was shaking, and it was starting to hurt your lungs.

"What are you running from? Did someone hurt you?" He asked, reaching up to turn your face back and forth, checking you over for any visible injuries. You sniffled and laughed bitterly. For something that was considered love, it hurt a lot worse than you were expecting.

"Nobody hurt me. I'm just...dealing with some stuff. I'm fine, just leave me alone." You insisted. He shook his head.

"What are you dealing with?" It was hard to look at him what with the way he was looking at you. His brows were pulled together in concern, eyes scanning your face back and forth as he searched for any sign, any hint of what was going on in your mind. And you were absolutely livid that he cared so much, you were fuming, and it wasn't fair because he was just so damn good to you all of the fucking time. Shit.

"You. I'm dealing with you, and this wedding, and my emotions, and I'm sick of it. I’m fucking tired, Felix, and it makes me want to scream." You snapped. He pulled away from you, and your arms felt cold where his hands had been sitting. You wanted them back. "I'm dealing with a million and one things, and I can't even talk to anyone about them because they're nobody else's problems, they're just mine."

Felix looked like he could break down and cry just from seeing you break down, and you wondered if his chest hurt like yours did, like it was empty and caving in all at once. He sort of looked like it did.

"You can talk to me. Even if I can't help, I can be a shoulder to lean on. I know that you and I aren't that close, and I wouldn't ever expect you to do the same thing for me. I know you don't care, and that you think I don't care, but I do. I want to be able to take care of you, I want to be a good husband no matter what." He told you. You sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself like that would be enough to hold all of your emotions inside, like you could squeeze yourself tight enough to keep from exploding. It did not, in fact, help the situation.

"That's the problem, Felix! You want to be good to me so badly and it's making me fall in love with you. And you don't love me back, so you just keep giving me this disgusting sense of false hope, and it's killing me." The confession tore itself from you with a force that made your lungs ache, the sound of your voice bouncing off of the walls and no doubt disturbing at least someone in the palace. The weight was lifted off of your chest, but instead of relief it just made you woozy and light headed. "I can't do this, I can't be close to you any more than I have to because I'm tired of hurting and wanting and waiting for something that just won't happen. I can’t keep being an idiot for you."

You turned, as unfair as you were being, you went to walk away. And he was grabbing your hand, pulling you back into his arms and hugging you to his chest. You melted into his warmth, into that familiar scent of citrus and soil and a warmth like the sun in summer. You clung to his shirt, fingers digging into the fabric to keep him from leaving. You cried, hard and breathless into his shoulder, and he didn't let go.

"You're so stupid, do you realize that? I've loved you for so long. And I've been doing everything I could to make sure you felt it." He laughed, and you could feel the warmth of it seep through the cold, numb feeling that had begun to overtake your body. You looked up at him, at the way his lips curled and his eyes sparked when he looked at you. "I've loved you since the first day I met you. Why else would I track you down after all this time and fight so hard to make you mine?"

"I can't stand you, Lee Felix." You half-sobbed. But it was a laugh, and you were smiling, and even with tears tracking down your cheeks, Felix was so taken with you that he was laughing along with you. "I knew that marrying you was going to be the right decision."

"Don't jinx it, we haven't even gotten married yet."

The music swelled around you, filling the room until it felt like the entire air was beating in time with your heart to the melody. The ceremony had finished a matter of minutes prior, and you were finally married. The ring glinted on your finger in the candle light of the hall. You were overjoyed, your hand intertwined with Felix's as you talked to your guests.

Your friends were there, Changbin and Jisung grinning at you like proud parents. And Felix's, standing beside them now that they were bonding over the love shared by their best friends. You were glad to see them all getting along so well. The room, despite the differences of those within it, was filled with genuine love and adoration for you and your husband. He tugged your arm towards him, knocking you off balance and making you fall into his side. He gave you a smug grin, and you shook your head with one to match. You were still getting used to the feeling of being in love with him.

"What's on your mind?" He asked. You smiled, looking towards the center of the cleared room, how the chairs had been dutifully cleared as per your request.

"We're properly married now," You said, a playful smile growing on your lips. He looked concerned at the way your eyes glinted with a mischief he'd never seen aimed towards him before. "That means you have to listen to me and do as I say. Obedient husbands make for happy lives, you know."

"And what is it you want from me, my prince?" He asked, following you as you strode with confidence towards your friends.

"I want you to dance with me." You released his hand, taking the last few steps towards the other boys. You whispered something to Chan, and he smiled, disappearing to do your bidding as you eagerly tugged at Changbin and Jisung. "It's traditional to dance all night long at our weddings back home. And we agreed to share our traditions, didn't we?"

You grinned as the music changed, shifting into something much more like what Felix remembered from the festival his last visit to your home. It was fast and light, and honestly it was hard not to dance to it. The dance began when Changbin took your hand, and the two of you gave way to the weight of the music, circling one another and spinning until slowly but surely more people joined. Most of them were other fae folk, familiar with the music. Jisung pulled a few people with him, Felix's friends among them, into the intricate twist and turn and twirl of bodies. And you looked at Felix, half obscured by the people dancing with you as you reached your hand out for him, begging him to join.

You looked like nothing he'd ever seen before, with flowers in your hair and light dancing across your face, your smile turned on him. He didn't resist your siren call this time, falling with you into the crowd. He held you close, and the two of you danced surrounded by people dancing around you and nothing else in the world mattered in that moment as the two of you circled one another, his hand on your waist and yours pressed into his chest. The world was just you and him, breathing in time, riding the breeze and basking in your affection for one another. Convenience be damned.

You were the most beautiful like this, in your element, in his arms, and all-consumingly in love.

But you are beautiful

And thrilling, and true

And you would never ask that of me

I would give away the brightest parts of myself

To make you shine like silver,

All of the things I could give to you,

But you say they're worth nothing,

Don't I know that they pale in comparison

To the joy I give you when I fly.

You call it this the beauty mark of love

copyright © 2022 hobi-is-golden, all rights reserved

[mareenavee]

The World on Our Shoulders | Chapter 25: A Perfect Storm

23rd of Morning Star 4E 202

Teldryn was freezing, which wasn’t any surprise, really. He’d been trudging into the wind over veritable mountains of snow at this point. He was all but blinded by the blizzard around him, and deafened by the thunder. Hail bounced off his helmet and armor, the near-constant hollow thunk starting to irritate him worse than before. Regardless of all his layers, he felt like if he paused for even a second, he’d become a solid block of ice. He was sorely tempted to try that trick with the Flame Cloak again just for the warmth, but thought better of wasting Magicka. He didn’t know what awaited on the other side down by the shore. He could only hope Nyenna was still there, still safe enough. He closed his eyes behind his chitin lenses and tried to recall what he had seen — pristine black boots. Gold details. Familiar, somehow, but without the whole picture, he couldn’t place it. The image had faded from his mind too fast, though what was more concerning was how blurred it had been, as if by tears. He was still in shock, if he was being honest, that the Atronach had even been able to give him this warning.

His stomach grumbled. He’d left the rabbit and snowberries in the cave. All that work only to feed the stray Riekling. Lovely. But he could move faster without having to manage all that. Food would have to wait. He’d gone longer without a meal before, anyway. He paused only long enough to readjust the two travel cloaks and pull the hoods in closer around his face. Nyenna’s was, predictably, much too short, but of a nicer quality. It helped. Thank whatever Gods for her, he thought, because the cold of the blizzard still seeped through. He could handle it, though, with this small gesture. He’d catch up to her if it was the last thing he’d manage before the weather finally did him in. Now that he thought about it… was that even possible? He wasn’t keen on finding out.

Finally, through the thick curtains of snow and hail, Teldryn was able to see the coast. He’d wandered a little further north than he’d intended, but he had his bearings, more or less. The waves crashed angry and grey against the ashen shores, salt mist all but freezing as it settled over the rocks, shells, and stinking piles of seaweed that had been dragged up from the depths among the dreugh. He kept the ice shelf and the looming storm clouds over his shoulder as he headed south. The lightning struck somewhere in the distant ocean. He counted to himself, and three seconds later thunder tore through the air. Too close. If it wasn’t already dangerous out here, the storm would overwhelm if he didn’t hurry.

He tried his best to pick up the pace. His legs ached from trudging through the snow and the more he thought about it, the more angry he got about the whole thing. All of it was on Neloth now, every detail of this little disaster. He couldn’t just ask for help, of course. It had to be manipulation, because ‘no, Neloth, I am not doing your bullshit quest’ didn’t seem to register as an answer in the old wizard’s thick skull.

It was easy to blame Neloth, really. Teldryn had done it more than once in the last handful of days. But the truth was…he’d been gone too long. This, like usual, was really his own damned fault. Nyenna had hired him to watch her back, and what did he do? Wander off like a s’wit into the middle of a Godsdamned storm for a handful of berries. Just great. He would kick himself if he could.

There was some indiscernible sound issuing from just ahead over the howl of the weather. Something like terrified shrieks, which didn’t bode overly well. He rounded the corner of a cliff that overlooked Northshore Landing and kept close to the rocks. His Candlelight spell had been rendered almost useless; the light it threw barely gave him enough light for the next steps. He let it wink out and ran a hand along the outcropping. He sighed and searched the back of his mind for the presence that he could sometimes still feel in moments like this. It was barely there; a tawny feather in a vast darkness. Shadows hide him indeed. He’d have the advantage if he could manage not to fuck this part up, as relatively blind as he was at the moment. He wished he’d bothered learning Nyenna’s Detect Life spell. Or that he hadn’t been quite so lazy about magic in general over the years. He crouched low, hand still grazing the cold shale. -> Read the rest on AO3

[tseneipgam]

“one tenth of the earth's surface has been constantly on fire, through no fault of human beings, for more than two hundred years. A look at a dynamic map of all the fires currently raging on the planet would reveal a multitude of these expanding red zones being carried forth by surface winds, in Africa es- pecially, the continent referred to by experts in the field as the Heart of the Inferno. I found it startling to consid- er that our human modernity had developed side by side with this incandescent presence. Some years ago, a musician friend told me about a long stint he'd once spent in an African jungle. Wanting to make recordings of instances of silence in nature, he had travelled to Lake Tanganyika in Tanzania, the second largest and second deepest lake on the planet. 'So deep, he said, 'that there's no oxygen in the waters at the very bottom. They're fossil waters: A helicopter had dropped him off in a clearing in the surrounding jungle with nothing but a tent, a change of clothes and some survival snacks, plus the necessary gamut of recording equip- ment, all manner of tapes and ambient microphones. He saw no fires burning, or if he did, he didn't mention them to me, but he did say that, after a month and more of wandering those jungles, what struck him most was the utter absence of silence.”

“historically, we only ever keep a record of evil deeds. In fact, we only legislate for that which we consider to be pernicious; it never occurs to anyone to legislate for good or happi- ness. It was as though evil was actually held in higher regard than what's good. By this same logic, what's good, with no one keeping an account of it or checking it in any way, is a kind of echo that resounds to the ends of what is known, and its expansion, like that of the uni- verse, will know no limits. And another consequence to this: it makes it pointless, utterly redundant, to ever dis- cuss good, and that has the effect of making it even more invisible. Hence why, contrary to popular belief, it’s revo lutionary to speak of good things.”

“I picked up the book, Physics at the Residencia de Estudiantes. I tried to read the rest of the 'Stellar Universe' chapter, the talk by Sir Arthur Eddington on the Belgian priest Lemaitre who, as I've said, discovered the fact of the universe's expansion, but I found I couldn't get beyond the phrase, 'There are some stars so dense that a tonne of their mat- ter would fit inside a matchbox.”

“Back in bed again, I watched the snowflakes falling on the palm tree, and thought how no two snowflakes are the same, but all, without exception, have six points distributed symmetrically around a single centre point. I know that in any place where symmetry is lacking, it's because, in that portion of planet Earth, the forces of nature are in conflict; eddying river water and human migration flows are such sites of conflict. Thus a snow- flake can be called an isolated point, a place in which the forces keeping the crystals from flying apart are not in competition with anything. Snowflakes are bunkers, isolation chambers, unreachable bubbles; these were my thoughts as I lay in the bed, staring blankly out at the precipitate of each and every one of those snowflakes. And this thought concerning bunkers and points of isolation brought with it another in turn: the possibil- ily of the existence of a place where, densely packed together, all the memories of a person are contained: a neighbourhood, a city, a room or street bevond which a person would relinquish their memories, and thereby all awareness, of what had gone before; they'd only need to go back across the threshold of that street for all the instability and turbulence that is memory to be activat ed once more.”

“It's like when you gather a group together, saying you want a photo, but then press the button to record video instead - they're expecting a photo, but you press record. Then you watch it back and you fall over laughing, and the people you tricked also find it the funniest thing. An unimaginable number of strange contortions pass over a person's face in the moments before thev're frozen in a photo. I thought I'd have liked to perform that same trick with the photos in Aillados, to have witnessed what the people in them were saying immediately prior to the capture of those images, the looks they gave one another and the tiny fluctuations of expression just before their portrais were taken; that surely wouldn't have been funny.”

“it all boils down to trash, blessed trash. He was a man of about seventy, dressed in an ash-grey suit pinstriped like a diplomat's, with a white shirt and cuff links, brogues, blue eyes, hair to match the suit and a moustache with tips waxed to point straight upwards, a detail that made him look astonishingly like Salvador Dali. He sat down on the bench beside us. I was about to say something, but he started talking before I could: My good men, trash is not a thing that should be re- cycled, the best thing is to leave it where it falls, one day we'll be buried by all the trash, it'll be the end of us, but not because of an excess of it, rather by default, and if we recycle it all, what will become of memory? How will we recognize our past selves if everything's already been radically transformed? Future archaeologists wont have any objects to work with, only files, computer files; oh, you'll have objects, yes, but only the ones we place in museums and other sites intended to transmit the most curated samples of our world to generations to come, and all of this, my good men, will be completely worth- less; bear in mind that everything useful we know about former civilizations is that which they left behind unin- tentionally, that which was accidentally dropped and forgotten about, the things they threw away and never bothered to gather or recycle, that's to say, their trash, it's this kind of random thing that truly tells us what past civilizations were like, and these things, the constants of the universe, are what join us to our forebears, because in the time to come there will be objects that neither change nor are capable of change, or, more precisely, and as paradoxical as it might seem, for a transformation to take place something has to remain the same, for example, in a chemical reaction everything changes, but the overall mass remains constant, and if it doesn't, the change can't take place, or, for example, consider the well-known story of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, where the main character's personality changes, but his social en- vironment, his home and the city he lives in go virtually unaltered, because if that weren't so, if in that story ev- erything changed completely, there couldn't be a story, the narration would simply fizzle out, do you under- stand? Well, the same goes for trash, if we eliminate it or transform it into another thing altogether, recycle it in a Wholesale way, we'll be disconnecting ourselves from history, our history, and that would mean ending up in a kind of reality parallel to the civilizations that went before us, while, paradoxically, remaining linked to them, and I really mean this, my good men, this isn't sci-fi l'm talking about, this is real life”

“Neil Armstrong goes to the moon and takes twenty photographs, the most import- ant event of the twentieth century and there's only twenty photographs of it, but any teenage birthday party in this city, or any other city on the planet, will generate two hundred photographs-plus, is that not grotesque? Where's the sense in it? Where are we going to put all these images? In fact, by transforming them into digital files, files nobody will be able to read in a few years' time, since the programs needed to open them won't exist any more, what we'll actually be doing is obliterat- ing those moments, they'll disappear and never come back, and what this amounts to is a slow but certain ne- gation of material itself, nothing short of a disaster, but that's not even the worst of it, my good men, now we get to the nub, by which I mean the recycling of bodies, how we hate the body, with what furious intensity do we seek to do away with it”

“Come night. I'd get up from my desk and see a man in the building across from mine who, standing there in his underpants, would heat up frozen beans in a pan. America is a very sad place. All there is there is sadness.” “Cities that experience very hot summers and very cold winters seem to me like bags of frozen food, frozen and defrosted over and over again: you need only tear open the plastic to see how inedible the contents have become. And that's precisely what I think my walks amounted to: a way of wearing down the outermost layer of the pave- ments, the skin, eventually to have it rip open of its own accord, so that I could then take a look inside.”

“have you noticed the way people always talk about large numbers of people migrating in terms of migration "flows", them "flooding" an area, "stream" of immigrants, that kind of thing?' 'Pardon?' just mean, the language always tends to be liquit-t lated - "Flows", "streams", "floods" - like it was water light or wind being talked about. I sometimes woris What would happen if we referred to movements of par Ble in terms of what they are, which is to say a sucesil aireal, solid bodies, the sum of a whole lot of parild all independent of one another 'don't you think that would change everything?”

“a few days earlier on the plane from New York City to Montevideo, when I'd sat looking at the emergency instructions they put in the seatbacks. These had a picture of a woman looking out at you from the sea with a flotation device in her hands after an apparent crash-landing. She reminded me of Venus in Botticelli's The Birth of Venus. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, or the way the wind tossed her hair, or her facial features, which were surprisingly similar, or her unsettling calm. As though, instead of having just been in plane crash, she'd that very moment been born out of the waters.”

“January 1889, Nietzsche is known to have left his Turin residence on Via Carlo Alberto, intending to walk into the city centre. He'd gone barely two hundred metres when, coming onto the Piazza Carignano, he pulled up at the sight of a recalcitrant horse being flogged by its driver. Nietzsche approached and, throwing his arms around the beast's neck, whispered something in its ear that to this day remains a conundrum: 'Mother, I am stu- pid.' He immediately went back home, where he lost the power of speech and soon passed out, not coming round until a decade later, a few days before his death in 1900. A period Nietzsche would have no memory of whatsoever.”

“The darkness in that moment was total, the car headlights sweeping across expanses of yellow grass which, with the wind blowing through it, looked like liquid gold. We passed a cowshed, one wall of which was covered in a confused mass of graffiti; I just had time to read a part that said: 'God doesn't fear the news. God is the News. We saw a chapel a little further on with a cemetery: didn't know if the creature lying outside the entrance was a dog or coyote. Driving at night is a question of try- ing to see things before you reach them; by the time you do, the headlights have moved on to something else. This same anticipation, I said to myself, applies in life gener- ally given that life is a journey through darkness at the end of which, in dying, you emerge into the light of day.”

“some years later the city would be filled with the mixed smell of burnt plastic and roast chicken, a smell that lingered for a couple of years in the south of the island. 200,000 tonnes of steel, 325,000 m2 of concrete, 55,000 m2 of glass from 43,600 blown-out windows, 198 elevators, each of which had an average capacity of 55 people, 71 escalators, 930,000 m2 of office interiors, 3,000 hu- mans, all reduced to dust. I was installed in the Home by then, but people say that particles, both organic and inorganic, got into every single corner of the city, into people's lungs and homes, into their food and their mat- tresses. It must be pretty strange knowing you've got particles of people's spleens inside you, particles of pens and hair, of Turkish rugs and asbestos, of the glasses for merly worn by young graduates, of silicon from people's breast implants, of adipose tissue, cockroaches, mosqui los, rats, sirloin steaks and trout from the Great Lakes. Preity strange, truly, to go around in the knowledge that This entire superstore of destruction is inside you, and always will be.”

“To clarify: it's tradition in my father's family for the oldest son in each genera- tion, in the presence of all available adults on the day, to extract a portion of wood from his father's coffin, only a small portion so as not to break the coffin, and then to carve it into a fob, in any shape or motif that should oc- cur to him. The keys to all the houses and properties he went on to own were supposed to be attached to it for the rest of his days. The tradition dates back farther than l know for certain, but I do know it started before the days of political parties as we now think of them. We are our dead past, all the coffins that go before us: so my father said to me one spring afternoon when I was nine years old, as we stood in the kitchen at the ranch, him jangling the keys on his familial fob - a pinewood rectangle the same size and shape as a dollar bill. I remember a cow outside the window stooping to drink from a meltwater stream - the winter ice was melting - and how it licked its lips and lowed as if to make light of my father's words.”

“he sat flicking his cell phone on and off. He wanted, he said, to try to get one over on the phone makers by turn- ing it on and off, and on and off, quicker than the light from the screen could keep up. I told him to quit it, he was going break the thing. 'Did you know that as foetuses we're 72 per cent heart,' Semicolon said, 'and at that point the heart's out- side the actual body?' To which I said: 'Did you know that the brain itself doesn't experience pain, so if someone shoots a bullet into your brain, you feel nothing? You just wind up a dumbass, like you. Know the only creature on earth that never gets can- cer is a shark?' *Know some planets have two suns, meaning it never gets dark there?'”

“I saw the vast and endemic tiredness of a mother”

“we saw some men in uniform pulling a dead body out of the water, somebody said it was an illegal immi- grant, we looked at the body and said nothing, made no comment except to say 'Time to go', and the next day she told me that the thought had occurred to her that the clothes of people who drown are more durable than the flesh of people who drown, this seemed an incredible thought to me, but it left her feeling extremely low, she said, because she was studying textile design, or possi- bly it was dressmaking, I never did get my head around the name of the course, and from that day on every time she went to cut the shoulder section of a jacket or part of a trouser leg the thought would come to her that she was really making a fabric coffin for someone who had drowned, isn't this an incredible thought?”

“we're so proud and arrogant, nothing's ever good enough, and now the cruise ship is so far out I can only just see it, those on board will be sipping martinis on the loungers by the covered pool, gazing up at the sky through the transparent roof cover, fixing their sight on the night clouds in an attempt to find answers to the questions they've been pondering their entire lives, questions they hope to solve in this voyage, and here I am, taking it all in with a single sweeping glance, I am a lasso, I snare objects and then bring them inside myself in miniature, the human gaze is capable of such things, shrinking the entire world so that it fits onto your retina, the sparks flying, pouring now from the let- ter'e, if somebody doesn't unplug that neon sign, I'll say it again, we're going to have us one chargrilled man, maybe even a building fire, but all of this is yet to hap- pen, sometimes nothing happens at all, we always want something to happen, we wait and hope, we don't know what for, only that we've waited in vain. The cruise ship is nothing but a speck in the far distance now, a boat for- merly moored on land, it was built on land and will never reach land again, isn't this the most terrible thing? Like a bird that took to the air and had to stay up there forever, forever beating its wings, never allowed to land. I shut my eyes.”

“Cigarette #18 There's a moment in the day when he's lying in bed and the clocks on display in the homeware section synchro- nize for a second - all the second hands align - and the entire mall shakes, as though the nervous system of the world were making its presence known. And there are moments when he and the birds are awoken by the sound of food cans expanding in the heat, bulging like footballs, or by the bicycles suddenly falling from their complex system of wall mounts, or a huge bang made by a box of snacks, all having rotted and fermented inside their bags and all passing their expiration date and ex- ploding at once. A feeling comes over him as though he's the guardian of a kind of Noah's Ark, like this is a spiritual reservation. a museum for an extinct mode of being. Previously, he thinks, the frenetic consumption of products meant they had to re-fill the shelves constant- ly. Nobody ever got to see what would happen in a mall if you just left it to evolve with no human intervention, like a nervous system unto itself. This is a kind of destruction nobody was ever taught about.”

“it's no coincidence that a mentally deranged animal is inconceivable, as is the idea of the planet ever malfunctioning. Any time we refer to a certain stone as beautiful or ugly, or see a bee buzzing around a flower and say it's working to make honey for our consumption, and even when we speak tenderly to a domestic pet, we're being completely ignorant, given that these flowers and rivers, these auto- mobiles and bees, these books and animals have never needed us and never will; they have their own social structures, so infinitely separate from our own as to be forever invisible to us. Which means there's no way for us to converse with an ant or an automobile, a book or a nation, a river or a pet, and not because they don't un derstand us, but because we don't understand them. All of this I thought on arriving in Honfleur and seeing thal woman petting her small dog. I wished he were with me to share this discovery. He, who was not a bee, or river. automobile, nation or pet, but a man - a male of the spe cies, I mean.”

“it was dawn and the summer's day already warm, but a layer of dew, dazzling white, still covered the grass. Taking two glass jars out of his rucksack and handing me a pipette, he asked me to help him collect drops of the dew one by one, Not that it's medicinal or anything like that.' he said, 'rather it's that our immediate future is concentrated in these drops, each and every one is something akin to the essence of the day to come. And we gathered the dewdrops from the blades of at least a metre-square of grass, which as I found out for myself is a lot of dewdrops. I spent the rest of the day peering into my jar to see if I could discern something in the crystal- line dew, though in reality I didn't even know what I was looking at, whereas he, sitting down to breakfast at the hotel when we got back, took his and simply drank it in one, before closing his eyes and spending the duration of the morning as if asleep - 'as if because, though he kept his eyes shut, he'd still answer when spoken to.”

“as we continued along the Normandy coast, convinced as we were that it's only from the peri- pheries of things, only from their farthest shores, that we have any chance of comprehending their true nature. And this is a universal principle for each and every one of us, such that we have to distance ourselves from our own lives if we want to get a view of its contours and its outline, to work out what kind of beast this life of ours really is, and then, only then, is it possible to call a life 'entire’ “

“The thought I finally fell asleep with was how little interest I had in what the D-Day landings sur- vivors saw, compared to what the dead saw; this, the story of the dead, would be the True Story of the D-Day landings, information we have no access to and that must nonetheless be somewhere, hidden information, the unknown B-side to the fabric of our reality, so un- known that we spend our time creating substitutes for it: the story of the dead is substituted by the story we the living make up about them, and the unfolding of civil- izations is that of an infinite chain of substitutions. Indeed, a painting of a landscape makes no attempt to know what might be hidden in that landscape, rather it seeks to substitute it, and a fire doesn't seek to know what is hidden in a forest fire, it just wants substitute it, and the lift has no interest in trying to understand what the hell these things we call stairs are, it just tries to sub- stitute them, and saccharin doesn't try to find what's hidden in sugar, only to substitute it, and sugar in turn doesn't try to uncover whatever's hidden in other food- stuffs, it just substitutes their calorific potential with a single teaspoon, and, in turn, sugar was invented during the industrial revolution to get more out of the workers, the children who worked in mines especially, a dessert spoon of sugar was as good as two plates heaped full of beans and bacon, which means that the white of sugar is littered with the corpses of children. Yes, coal - not by coincidence black like coffee - and the industrial revo- lution it fired cannot be understood without its opposite, sugar so white.”

“the tide was out, it had left an assortment of different seaweeds, oyster and clam shells on display, as well as these objects that, after you throw them away, you don't know how or why they come back, bottle tops, for instance, bleached and slightly malformed, they seemed almost like pebbles, almost, I would say, no longer arti- licial. Why was it, I wondered, that nature caused things we call 'artificial' to bleach to such an extent, to the point that a bottle top becomes indistinguishable from a peb- ble, and at the same time creates things as colourful and dearly distinguished as flowers, insects and rocks; I couldn't come up with an answer, but I did suppose that it was because of this that houses periodically need re- painting but cliffs and flowers don't.”

“I remember a set of footprints across a snow-covered ath- letics track, a single set of footsteps but, like everything in Switzerland, not in the slightest bit dramatic, and ac- companied by the tyre tracks from a bicycle; it could legitimately have passed for a musical score.”

“I thought of a very black Earth, the planet burned to a crisp, and though it obviously meant losing some time I decided to go down the recently asphalted section of road that led to it, which gave off that smell of fossils brought back to life common in all petrol derivatives, always particularly strong at petrol stations - any time I stop to fill up, I pause and breathe it in, this being the yearning for fire we all of have inside ourselves: a match in my mouth at that moment and the whole place would have gone up in flames.”

“A little while earlier, other, more commonplace layers of geology had started to emerge: granite mainly, seamed with quartz, which would have made life hard for the German sappers tasked with cre- ating bunkers like the ones I soon started to see. These had the air of half-finished Easter Island effigies. The buildings in our cities are supported by a skeleton of pil- lars, vectors plunging vertically into the ground, reaching towards the centre of the earth, while bunkers are a compact, unitary mass, like a loaf of concrete bread baked just once and in a single mould, and, more signif- icant than that, they go in no particular direction, and are apparently unaffected by the earth's movements, if an earthquake hit they'd simply roll over on themselves until they came into a new stability, a new equilibrium: they could soon be re-inhabited again. Bunkers are more like a cork bobbing around on water than some- thing actually built on the ground.”

“I thought how unnecessary we are to flies, rats, scrub and stones, and to the dead as well - none of these things need us, we simply invent connections to them. like or dislike, where no connections in fact exist. Thad seen a few months earlier that 2016 was the year of Aristotle, since it was the 2,400th anniversary of his birth, but is it really possible to talk about the anniversa- ry of a birth that happened so archaeologically long ago? How can the exact year of Aristotle's birth be known? It can't. We make it up. That birth happened so long ago that it now exists outside of time. We're forever anthropologizing. It's a little like the quotations attribut- ed to famous people on the internet: ninety-eight per cent of these are incorrect, and it makes as much sense to attribute them to those women and men as it does to the corpses populating these bunkers or the flies that come buzzing off them and land next to our feet, made-up quotations that only succeed in creating a somewhat co- herent representation of the past, which is the same as saying they project a convincing hologram of the future; we look for certainty, we die in fear, that's all there is. It then seemed very clear to me that war filters through ev- erything, not just through geological layers but botanical, biological and even informational layers; a veritable network of war is spread out below the ground on which we stand.”

“Mount Ararat, the highest peak in Turkev, lies near the borders with Iran and Armenia, and is a dormant volcano whose perpetually snow- capped peaks stand more than 5,000 metres above sea level. It is the symbol of the Armenian people. As Wikipedia puts it: 'It is claimed that a large "anomalous" shape at the summit could be Noah's Ark, according to research carried out by Porcher Taylor on satellite im- ages taken in 1955. The "anomaly" (a structural abnormality not common to a mountain) shown in these images is 309 metres long, which would tally with the 300 x50 cubits the Ark is described as measuring in the Book of Genesis.' Astronauts also claim to have seen these shapes. This kind of thing may be satellites' and astronauts' best-kept secrets, and by this I mean not what they see when they are up in space and look into outer space - the contents of which has no importance except for in novels, films and comics - but what they see when they look down at Earth, at our home, the only thing that actually has any impact on us. The day they feel compelled to say what the Earth is truly like from so far away, we won't even be able to believe it, we'll go higher and higher but only in order to look back down. down into the centre of ourselves.”

“After an update on the Brexit referendum, which was due to take place immi- nently, a live football match came on, one being played on the other side of the planet. The ball went from one end of the pitch to the other and I thought what a terrify- ing and at the same time irremediably magical thing it is for 300 million people to be turning their heads to the left in unison; this perhaps is the last truly communal action left on the face of the Earth.”

“One of those boats was shipwrecked off the coast, it quickly became legend not because of what it was transporting, which in the end was just ground-up bones, bone-dust that's sunk to the bottom of the estuaries around here and nobody's ever going to get out, but because people said the boat was made from these Asian trees inside which diamonds grow; bizarre as it sounds, you get dia- monds spontaneously appearing inside one in ten thousand of that kind of tree; it's generated by an imper- fection in the carbon inside the trunk itself, a little bit like the way pearls are generated inside oysters. People around here have burned every single plank or scrap of wood that's washed up on the shores ever since, hoping to come up with one of those diamonds.”

[darkeye5000]

Cold, Bitter, and Pathetic

Cold. Empty. The win howls into the night for the sign of my footsteps trenching through the snow. A sullen face struck by the frostbite by the harsh blizzard. Shivering through my dead skin clutching against my own body for any hint of warmth inside me. From the horizon all I can see a giant blanket of snow in this vast field of nothing. My vison blurred due to the blizzard blinding me from where I am heading to. Crunching with every step leaving behind the trail of my footsteps that would disappear sooner than later from the huge amount of snow raining down. Eyes drooping down feeling the weight of exhaustion taking the toll on me. My own breath lifts my chest slowly pushing myself further to find somewhere warmer. Despite fully clothed as I felt like I am fully bare, naked as the cold stabbing with their snowflake knives piercing me multiple times. All I can hear is the wind boasting and laughing at my limited survival and my teeth chittering like a nutcracker on crack breaking down nuts.

Not sure how long I am out there with my map gone missing in this getaway hike. I would have to find somewhere with that tiredness is wearing me down further as I kept strolling across the field of snow. I shook myself to keep moving forward so I can just keep on living, but sometimes I wonder if I could lie down as the snow look very soft to touch. No I am just being tired I just have to keep moving forward.

“I can do it, I can do it, I can do it, I can do it,” I repeated myself in a soft whisper trying to motivate myself the further I go the more I felt compelled to lie down and do nothing. I would have to keep going no matter what if I want to keep on living further. I coughed with a huff to just take every step even if it would take me longer. I got to do it, I got to do it, I got to do it.

I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to, I got to I got to, I got- Focus focus, focus, focus!!!!!! Damnit focus now!

“Just focus dumbass! Just keep going I got to!” I seethed at myself trying to focus where I am walking despite not seeing far ahead where I am going. I felt like a blind man walking through the pitch darkness. I just got to be strong and keep walking more. I really got do this, I know I can. No I cannot do it. I really cannot do it.

I slapped myself with my frozen hand snapping myself back, “Yes I can fucking do it damnit damnit damnit!!!!! Just go now!” I grumbled that I want to kick myself for thinking that. The wind is getting stronger that it weighing me down more. Pushing further that I don’t care where I am going as long I can find somewhere warm.

I am unsure how long I been walking with my wobbling legs tripped me few times, but I kept myself up and going forward. Letting out a sigh hearing my stomach growling like a beast about to tear my flesh apart to hunt its own food without me. Great I am hungry and cold, I better survive this. My mind drift away remembering the time of my arrival. I thought I can plan everything having extra food, a map, a tent, many camping supplies despite being my very first time. Though it was difficult to set the tent up with the animals stole the food I brought. I mentally facepalm that the map was left outside when the wind blew away that I have to walk around blind. It didn’t help I ended up setting up near a wolf den. The moment I woke up hearing the wolves snarling outside of my tent, I had to flee getting away from them not to anger the wolves for stepping into their territory. My head shocked to kept myself from going deep into pathetic self-pity.  Just don’t worry about that, I need to focus of the now stupid.

My feet guide forward as the wind kicked up more strength to push me back. The blizzard screech louder than before as I growled back to push myself forward. I just got to be stronger than this. Sure it is my own fault getting lost but not now I just got to keep moving forward. Those words smashed into my brain reminding my legs to move more. A breathy shake let out of my mouth with the exhaustion pulling my strings crash down onto the ground. I cannot give up using any strength I got left pulling myself to crawl across the snow. The blizzard is punching into my body trying to make me stop moving. However I kept going being stubborn enough to keep on going ahead. Just need to keep going, I cannot give up just not now please…

Few moments had gone by that I managed to lift myself up, though my legs drag on like a zombie with a twisted leg. The blizzard kept yelling at me to stop blowing the wind into my frozen eardrums. With a sigh not wanting to give up easily forcing myself to get my legs take extra steps to find shelter. I cannot lose to this blistering storm. I just cannot. I just CANNOT!!!

I want to scream at myself and tear myself into shreds of my body for doing this stupid hiking trip! Just go to the forest and you will come out tougher. It would be fine then to stop being a pathetic loser! My voiced rang out to nowhere, “YOU DUMBASS BASTARD!!! ARE YOJ GOING TO BE THIS FUCKING PATHETIC OR WHAT!!! STOP WHINING AND GET THIS OVER WITH!!! STOP IT YOU ARE FUCKING BETTER THAN THIS!!!!! JUST STOP JUST STOP JUST STOP JUST STOP!!!!!!!!!”

With a quick jolt of my feet running faster for that burning fire coursing through my veins. Every thoughts shooting into my lousy brain cells pumping me with the shitty memories of myself being a whiny and pathetic bastard I am.

Clutching onto my own scalps on top of my head while sitting alone in my own darken room. I gritted my teeth calling myself pathetic waste. Every time the higher ups in the office space gave me a terrible glare looking down at me like I am invading their spaces. The managers, the supervisors, everyone who is above me scolded me over making the simple mistakes such as accidentally spilling water onto their clothes or printing the wrong amount of papers they ordered me to. Every time I tried to chat with the workers during lunch break, they turned their eyes away from me and converse with each other pretending I don’t exist. The worst is from my own boss gave me ridiculous orders as example shine his shoes with my tie and set up appointments for a foot massage off into Japan and I pay for both the appointment and the flight tickets to First Class. I knew if I talk back that I would get fired for disobeying order and argued at the authority. I questioned myself maybe I made mistakes by my own fault or just being too weak to stand up for myself. I could be just not push myself enough effort to make it right. Maybe I should try hard enough? Maybe I have to be tougher to talk back? Thoughts raced through the tracks of what should have been done different. I let out a sighed reminding myself I already tried that by emailing over to HR. The only replied I got HR explained I just need to keep working hard with my tasks and just go with the rules by boss created. I was confused yet irritated that HR didn’t try to solve the problems going on back in work.

My face slammed onto the wooden surface with a deep, self-defeating sigh as a soldier drop his weapons being held by gunpoint. My eyes darted at the window from the couple of branches tapping onto the glass. Staring at the branch for a while strike a lightbulb with a loud ding. Taking on a hiking trip could give me a thick skin to stand up for myself becoming firm and assertive. I search through onto my laptop to find a spot to visit over the forest and look up how to hike. That I only hoped the trip could change me into a complete better, stronger, brave person than I am currently.

Snarling at myself back in the present in this treacherous situation I put myself into. Still running through the snow out of sheer rage against myself that my own action ruin everything not just for never talk back right as of now stuck in this shitty blizzard getting frostbites all over me without finding a shelter. HOW IN THE FUCK DID I MESS UP THE GODDAMN TENT IN THIS FUCKING STUPID TRIP!!!!!!?????

“YOU FUCKING MISERABLE PUSSY YOU CANNOT DO ANYTHING DAMN RIGHT!!!!!!” I roared louder than previously wishing to grab a knife and stab into my own brain for making this stupid mistake. Why I cannot do everything right!

WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY

WHY WHY WHY WHY      WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY

      WHY WHY WHY   WHY   WHY WHY WHY WHY     WHY   WHY WHY

         WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY      WHY WHY WHY WHY

              WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY FUCK ME YOU PIECE OF PATHETIC SHIT YOU CANNOT DO EVERYTHING FUCKING RIGHT DAMN YOU I WISH I AM NEVER FUCKING BORN AND I WISH I CAN DO EVERYTHING DAMN RIGHT I WISH I AM NOT BORN PATHETIC I FUCKING WISH I AM NOT SORE BITCHY CUNT LOSER TO BE WASTED AWAY TO BE SOME HOPESS CLASS THAT EVERYTHING I DONE IS WRONG LEAD UP TOO MANY FUCKING MISTAKES BECAUSE OF MY PATHETIC WEAK SKIN THAT I AM TOO WEAK AND PATHETIC TO FIX UP THE SAD WASTED BROKEN SELF I AM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHY

WHY

WHY

WHY

WHY

WHY

WHY

WHY

WHY

WHY

WHY

WH-

My foot slipped onto the ground giving me a smack back to reality into a loud thud. With a deep sigh I stay down feeling more tired and hopeless to keep moving on. The sight was caught off guard seeing a small twinkle of light up ahead. My eyes looked up seeing the wooden cabin far away giving away small, little light. Is that hope ahead I see? My hands reached out trying to grab it until realizing I am still far away. My mind said to keep going, but the exhausted body wouldn’t move forward as the body said to keep staying down. With a hazy breath that I am only so closed yet so far to reach over to hope. The weight of my body prevent me from keep going that maybe I should just lie there and do nothing. Maybe I am that weak and pathetic, I am not a strong person I am trying to become, instead I am just a wasted potential and being a hopeless case. That warmth of light is not for me, I should just sleep with the pitch black darkness in this cold, dreadful blizzard. The ache of my body turned into numbness with my eyes closing slightingly. My chest lifting itself up and down in a slow manner ticking away almost to a complete stop. Maybe I shouldn’t try to prove to be strong, maybe I should have listen to HR and just do nothing else. Just be a good for nothing worker. That I should not strive for anything nor try to find my own strength and potential inside of me. Maybe it never exists at all. Maybe I should let this cold slumber take over me. Maybe I should stop everything as my eyes shut tight and sleep until of my very last breath stopped.

I wrote this fucking story about the worker thought he can grow a thick skin by heading off into the woods to be able to talk back to his own boss by standing up for himself. That is until the fucking wolves came out where the worker set up camp as the worker ran off became lost in the middle of nowhere. This is being inspired by my not good relationship with my cunt-eater mom and I. I would try to please my mom by getting good grades, but she would spout out negative talk that does not meet up her bull expectations. This created problems for my siblings as she would also yelled over them behind closed doors. The worker try to please his boss that is difficult to do as this reflects myself wanting to please my bullshit mom as with mom never is fucking satisfied. This is also in the way to point out putting up cuntard high expectations is wrong because it will break down the person's self esteem and self worth. To accept yourself is stop meeting unrealsistic expecations to set goal for youself or it will break your self esteem.

[maggicktouched]

Old Man, Little Fox

I’ve wanted to write a drabble like this for a long time. Because this is a very Beck thing to do---see a lonely, hopeless person and hang around them to befriend them but never reveal herself for her own safety. I’ve never had the right setting to write it though. 

I also wanted to write something in Daniel’s point of view to maybe give people an idea of how I write him since I don’t have any active threads yet. The two ideas came together pretty well in my opinion. As always this might get tweaked. I haven’t even edited for spelling/grammar errors and I’m too tired to right now, to be honest. Yes this is probably cheesy. Yes I like it as it is. Enjoy the cheese. Cheese is delicious. 

...

The park was empty. 

Probably the cold. Daniel thought to himself. Aside from the stray, dedicated crazy person out for a morning run, he had the park to himself.

He crossed a frozen bridge, gripping the rail with trembling hands that had nothing to do with the cold. He was just as crazy to be out here. Especially after a snowstorm. A fall in his condition could break something if he was lucky, or very likely kill him if he wasn’t. But he had to come. He came every Sunday.

It’d started back in June when the weather was a lot more reasonable. His doctor had warned him if he didn’t get moving, he was going to go downhill fast. He needed to get out, to meet people, to challenge himself. He’d had enough of strangers for a lifetime, and he didn’t see much reason trying to preserve a dying body—but he did it for his girls. He hadn’t spoken to either of them since the Christmas before, and the conversation had been short—and forced. The hope that he could change that was all he really cared about. He hadn’t been looking to make friends… And yet he had.

He sat down with a groan on a snow-covered bench and watched the wind whip through the trees. When the gust caught up to him he couldn’t help but flinch from the slap of cold.

“Took you long enough.” He said as he opened his eyes. There, not twenty paces away, was a little orange fox. Its black-tipped ears were pointed forward, straight at him, as he reached into his inner coat pocket. His shaking fingers bit into the custard flesh of the persimmon without meaning to, and the juice dribbled out onto his fingers.

“Come on then.” His back popped as he leaned forward and extended the fruit. “We both know you aren’t shy.”

He’d never cared much for animals. He barely liked people. When he was younger he’d bought Steph a dog—more accurately he’d won it in a poker game drunk off his ass and didn’t know what to do with it the next morning. She’d named it Tucker. He’d called it Fucker, another thing for Alice to add to her endless list of things he did that she hated. Tucker had been some ungodly half-spotted mix between a collie and a demon. Alice gave him away to one of her cousins who had a farm out of state, and somehow that had been his fault too.

His doctor had suggested getting a dog multiple times to keep himself active. Even before the Parkinsons. He’d always laughed at the idea. If anyone had suggested he’d be walking half a mile twice a week to feed a wild animal in the park, he’d have laughed at them too.

But here he was.

The fox sniffed the air and stood. She trotted large, arching circles around the bench, getting closer each time. Her nervous amber eyes looked everywhere but him, until finally she was close enough to touch. Then she looked at him properly, fluffy tail wagging low and wild. He could almost swear that she was smiling when she opened her toothy mouth.

By now the cold was making his hands stiff, but he forced his fingers to rip off a piece of the persimmon and the fox eagerly snapped it up. The wet fruit smacked loudly in her mouth for a split second, and then it was gone, and she was pawing his wrist for more.

“You’re greedy, ya know that?” But he laughed. It was a rare thing to laugh anymore. Another bit of fruit, it was gone just as fast as the last. And another and another until it was gone. Daniel sat back against the cold metal. “Well, that’s that.”

He’d been feeding the fox every Sunday and Thursday for the past three months, ever since the weather had turned bitter cold in New England, but he’d known her for half of the year. She’d just—started following him one day. For weeks she sat at a distance, watching him, but always following him–always finding him–everywhere he went in the park. Then she’d started to sniff his shoes, paw at his pants. For lack of anyone else, he talked to her. Told her about the Parkinsons, about his girls, about the dreams that tormented him in the middle of the night. Awful vivid dreams that he forgot on waking and how they made him avoid sleep as much as possible.

He’d turned into one of those crazy people who talked to their dog. One of those sad idiots who thought things like “I don’t know where I’d be without her.” Something he never imagined saying about an animal. Something he’d never say out loud to anyone---not even the fox. 

“Where’s your boyfriend? Huh?” He asked. The fox tilted her head right, then left, then put her two paws on his knees. He patted a thigh. “Come on.”

And she was up in his lap. He’d never known how big foxes were until her, or how they radiate warmth. The feeling started to return to his legs, and he pushed his cold fingers into her fur and scratched gently. Little high pitched grunts of happiness broke through the silent air.

“You’re not gonna be young forever, ya know. You oughtta find a nice boy. Have little—uh—baby foxes. Whatever they're called.” He reached up to rub her ears, noting the way that the trembling in his fingers had stopped. “You can’t waste all your time on an old man–Ow! Jesus!”

She bit him!

It hadn’t been enough to break his thinning skin, but still! 

A cloud of silver mist left his mouth as his chest shook, and he began to laugh in earnest. 

“You bitch.” But he patted the fox’s side all the same. Sometimes it felt like she understood him too well. Sometimes it didn’t feel natural. His mental state had to be deteriorating faster than he thought.

They sat in silence for a long time. It felt good to touch something. Even an animal. She was warm and soft, and she didn’t want anything from him but a bit of fruit or meat now and again.

He sighed, “Come on. We can’t just sit here all day.”

She jumped down to the ground, and he braced on the back of the bench and hoisted himself up. With her at his heel, they started down the hill and onto the wooded path where the trees were tall and old. It might have been enough to fool him into thinking he was miles away from the city if not for the distant sounds of cars and the occasional shriek of children from the far-off playground. It’d gotten warmer as the morning turned to afternoon, and they weren’t alone anymore in the open. The shade of the barren trees was enough to ward off most other park-goers and preserve their solitude.

His canine companion stopped for a moment and then darted ahead. She cleared a fallen log to the side of the trail and then halted on a dime. Her head twisted one way, then the other, and then she leaped straight up into the air and went face first into a pile of snow. Nothing but two wriggling back legs and a fluffy tail remained visible. A few seconds later she emerged. Empty handed.

“Good thing I bring you snacks. You’d probably starve.” He grumbled, grinning into his coat as the fox ran past. She paused, and again he got that eerie feeling she understood him. Her amber eyes locked in on his in a way that just wasn’t right—wasn’t natural, and then she dropped her front end to the ground, squealed with animalistic glee, and took off running again. She was always good for a free show.

“Had that dream again.” He said when she’d calmed down enough to walk beside him once more. This time when he sighed, it was pained and tired. “Doesn’t matter what they give me, it comes back. He’s so—real. I know everything about him. The way he walks. How he talks. I know what he likes. I know every inch of his body. It thrills me, terrifies me too, and then I’m awake and it’s gone. It’s like--- like being spied on in my dreams.”

He felt a brush of fur against his leg as her side pressed against him. It soothed a bit of the pain.

“They suggested hypno-therapy last time. ‘To discover repressed memories’. Bullshit. What hope do I got if a bunch of crackpots are giving me hairbrained advice like that?”

Daniel stopped, and the fox stopped with him. He stared down at her, his hands opening and closing helplessly.

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? There’s no hope for me. Doesn’t matter what I do. I could walk a hundred miles. Lift weights until I’m Chuck Norris. It isn’t gonna change anything.”

He watched her put her two paws on his knees again, and went to reach down to stroke the animal, but before he could bend properly, she’d vaulted herself up into the air. For a brief second they were nose-to-nose, her claws dully dug at his coat, and he closed his arms around her instinctually. His heart was hammering, like he’d bumped into a priceless vase at an art museum and just barely managed to catch it.

Frozen whiskers tickled his neck, and then a muzzle as soft as silk. The fox laid her head on his shoulder.

“You’re too clever for your own good.” He was still a little breathless, but he started walking again. “What is it? Is it a body language or like a scent thing? You just smell it when I’m being pathetic?” 

His only answer was the gentle thump-thump-thump of her tail against the side of his coat, and he held her a little tighter. The gaping black hole of despair that threatened to swallow him up shrunk down and faded into the back of his mind.

At the entrance of the park, he knelt down to the icy path and reluctantly placed the fox down. His arms ached from carrying her, but it hurt worse to let her go again. She mouthed his watch as he stroked her head and whined. Did she know how much he didn’t want to leave her there? 

“I won’t be back this Thursday, hear me?” He cleared his throat. He had to go to Dubai. He had to finish the interview. But what would he have when it was all said and done? His curiosity sated, and a decent inheritance for his girls. Nothing else. But strangely, that almost felt like enough.

“It feels like dying, ya know.” He confessed. “One last hurrah. The big number before the curtain falls.”

He grunted, and then smiled a little. “It’s kinda nice. In a way.”

The fox licked his hand as he stood to his feet, and then darted back a handful of paces. He wished he could stuff her in his coat. He’d sneak her on the plane, hide her in his hotel room. And she’d probably die too, from the stress of it all. 

No. This was better.

She turned and ran toward the tall golden grass by the creek. It shivered, and then stilled, and she was gone.

“I don’t know where I’d be without you...” He said quietly. Daniel stuffed his hands in his pocket and turned back to the road. 

He needed to pack.

It was near midnight when he slumped over in his armchair and when his alarm went off at nine the next morning he woke without startling. For the first time in weeks, he hadn’t dreamed.

[lovesatoru]

IT’S NICE TO HAVE A FRIEND — JEAN KIRSTEIN (CHAPTER ONE)

CONTENT: canon compliant, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of angst, lots of fluff, fem!reader, you grew up in trost with jean, follows your relationship throughout the plot of aot, slowburn, mutual-pining.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

A/N: first fic back!! I've actually had this saved for a long time, but I'm finally ready to share this fic. It's my favorite thing I've ever written and it will likely be two or three parts by the time it's fully done!

my masterlist | chapter two

Your third-grade classmates pushed and shoved as they ran out of the classroom and into the bitter, cold outside, occasionally a few of them bumped into you while you were still preparing to head out. They were eager to get out into the snow, shouting about pelting eachother with snowballs and trying desperately to catch snowflakes on their tongues. You had taken your time, carefully buttoning up your big, warm coat just like your mother always did in the winter mornings before you headed to school. After checking to make sure each button was done correctly, you then grab the scarf sitting on top of your desk, wrapping it tightly around yourself. Now you were all ready to head out, thinking of how proud your mother will be that you made sure you were bundled up, just like she asked you.

When you stepped out into the snow, tears swelled in your eyes from the harsh wind blowing. You thought that at any second the strength of the wind would knock you down into the white snow. As you brought a small hand out of your coat pocket up to shield your eyes, you realized you didn’t have your gloves on. In an instant, you ran back into the empty classroom, save for a boy putting his own gloves on.You didn’t pay attention to him as you searched the inside of your desk and your small backpack for your own pair. After not finding them there, you emptied out your coat pockets only to find a pencil, a random piece of candy, and two erasers. You had no idea of where else they could be, so you checked your desk, bag, and pockets again and again and again. 

Unknown to you, your frantic search had caused you to gain the attention of the boy across the room. He didn’t even know your name, having only heard you answer a question in class here and there, but he was curious as to what you were looking for so desperately. Before he knew it, he was walking over to you.

“Hey, uh, you okay?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side a little. He really couldn’t put a finger on what you were so worked up about. 

Your eyes met his as a small pout formed on your face. “Yes, I just can’t find my gloves.”

“Oh,” he grabbed his chin in his hand and scrunched his eyebrows as if he was in deep thought before his eyes lit up. “Here, you can just wear mine!”

Before you could have replied, he stripped his hands of the blue gloves and eagerly held them out for you to grab with a smile so warm that it contrasted the frigid weather outside. You didn’t even know each other's names, yet he treated you with such kindness. 

“No, no. I can’t,” You shook your head, unable to accept his offer. “Thank you though.”

Now he was the one pouting. “But why? I don’t care if you use ‘em.” He held out his gloves again, practically shoving them in your face with eagerness.

“Cause then your hands will be cold.” You explained, pulling up the hood of your coat and turning to walk towards the door again. “You’re not the one who lost their gloves, I’d feel bad if you were cold because of me.”

It was your fault you lost your gloves, not his. It was already pretty cold out, so this was simply the consequence you needed to face, not him. You were just about to open the door to the exit before his hand grabbed your wrist, preventing you from leaving. 

“Then we can share. I wear one, you wear one,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You smiled at the idea, and took the glove from his hand, slipping it onto your own. You giggled as you put it on, finding the fact that you each had only one glove on humorous and he was laughing as well. Both of you were all ready to head out again when you finally asked him his name.

“I’m Jean Kirstein!” He answered so fast that he must have been anticipating the question. “What’s your name?”

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N),” you replied just as swiftly. 

With your introductions all said and done, it was finally time to go home long after the other children. You tucked your hands into your pockets again, one a little colder than the other. 

He was still walking beside you as you started towards your home. After realizing you were headed the same way, he felt a little bit excited, finally having company on his usually lonely walk. Jean ran a little ahead of you and then turned around to face you while still walking. 

“You must live this way too! I’ll walk you home if ya want.” he said with a firm tug on his backpack straps and a toothy grin on his face. 

Beyond delighted at the thought of being able to befriend him, you eagerly nodded. The remainder of the walk to your house was full of random conversation and questions. In the entirety of the fifteen minute walk you had learned that Jean’s mom makes the best omelets in the world, his favorite color was green, and he likes to draw when he’s bored. You listened to everything he had to say with open ears, and he did the same with every word you spoke. 

The time flew by and you eventually arrived in front of your home. “This is my house!” you beamed, although you felt a tinge of sadness because it was time to tell him bye.

He had given you yet another smile as he stopped to tell you goodbye. “No way! I live not too far from here! Maybe you can come over and we can play together after school tomorrow.”

Before you could tell him that you think it would be fun, your mother called your name out the door. In a rush, you had pulled your hands out of your pockets and carefully removed the glove he had lent you and held it out for him to take.

“I gotta go, but yes, I’ll ask my mom and you should ask yours!” Your words rushed out of your mouth in a hurry as you ran towards your front door. “Thank you for letting me use your glove.”

You realize that you forgot to tell him goodbye, so you turned back and energetically waved with a shout of “Bye, Jean!” and a grin.

“Bye, (Y/N)!” He waved back and watched you run into the open arms of your mother before making his way home as well.

As you stepped foot into your home, peeling off your scarf and coat as did so, you had instantly blurted out, “Can I go play at Jean’s house tomorrow? Please?” you had said while dragging out the final word dramatically.

She raised an eyebrow in response, surprised by the sudden question. You hardly ever mentioned the other children at school before today, and Jean was never amongst the names of the kids you had spoken of before.

“Jean? Is that the boy who you walked home with?” she asked while taking your gear from you to put away.

“Yes! He’s my new friend, he said he’d ask his mom if it’s okay for me to go over!” You were sure to add that he was asking permission as well, feeling like that would increase the likelihood of your mother agreeing to let you go. “Please, Mom.”

She smiled softly and ruffled your hair before responding. “I suppose that’s fine, just be back before dinner, okay?”

Bright, colorful skies had painted Trost District a golden hue as you ran down the street. Jean’s hand was clasped in yours as he attempted to keep up with you, letting you pull him along like you had for the past two years. You quickly passed by some random people walking down the street, bumping into a few of them which earned you a handful of complaints as you ran by.

Just a few minutes ago, you heard three sharp knocks and opened the door to an excited Jean who was nearly jumping for joy as he explained that his mother had managed to get the ingredients for his birthday cake. He looked like a little boy trying to appear grown up in his button up shirt and brown vest with hair that was neatly fixed, presumably by his mother. Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor when he told you, as cake was a pretty rare treat these days. You instantly agreed and sprinted to slip on a pair of shoes before dragging him down the street.

“You know, I walked here in order to walk you to my house, not to be walked, or should I say, dragged,” the brunette huffed but still kept a firm grip on your hand. He’d never let go no matter how much he pretended to hate it; there was something he liked about the way your smaller hand felt in his. “Yet, here you are, dragging me around, on my birthday.”

You rolled your eyes, throwing a glance back at him. He tried to shoot you a glare of annoyance once you made eye-contact, but you saw through it. Always so dramatic, but you enjoyed the typical theatrics. He fumbled a little when you picked up the pace suddenly. His house had come into view  and you were motivated by the thought of a nice slice of birthday cake prepared by his mother, who you’d grown to adore, being served to you. A part of you also looked forward to watching Jean 

“Shut up, Kirstein. You complain about everything.” Your laugh filled the almost empty street, and you shook your head, “We’re almost there anyways.”

You didn’t see it, but Jean dropped his little act for a moment as you continued to run and smiled softly to himself at your jab. Had those words left the mouth of any other person, he admittedly would have been offended, but he just held a fondness for the way you called him an idiot or a jerk with a grin on your lips. There was nothing he liked more than being insulted by you.

In a few short moments, you had arrived at the front door, threw it open and ran inside without even bothering to knock. You had grown comfortable, maybe a little bit too comfortable, within the Kirstein household. You dragged Jean behind you, hands still laced together, into the kitchen while he muttered complaints of you pulling too hard on his arm. 

“Dude, chill out with the pulling!” he whined after you had removed your hand from his. He rubbed at his shoulder while wincing and his mother let out a laugh from the counter

“Oh, you’re just a big baby!” You rolled your eyes as you pulled out two chairs from the wooden table, one for you and one for the birthday boy. “Hi, Angeline!” you greeted the woman as you eagerly watched her finish up the cake at the counter. You had dropped the formality of addressing her as Mrs. Kirstein after two years of being in and out of the house.

“Why, hello, (Y/N), dear!” she beamed as she looked over her shoulder, grabbing a few plates and walking towards the two of you. “I’m so glad you could come on such short notice. My little Jeanboy practically sprinted out the door to go get you,” she joyously laughed, ruffling an embarrassed Jean’s hair before setting a plate down in front of you both.

“Mom, I’m eleven now, ‘m not little!’” he huffed for what you estimated to be roughly the hundredth time that day, which earned a snicker from you. “Also, stop calling me Jeanboy, it’s embarrassing.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ll always be my little Jeanboy!” She quickly went over and grabbed the cake to place it in front of him. She even managed to find a few small candles to light in celebration.

Jean’s annoyed expression had quickly faded away; his eyes lit up brighter than the flames before him. You just knew that your smile mirrored his, all wrapped up in the excitement of such a special day. His joy was contagious, as he was a very guarded boy, always trying to put up a strong front to other kids. But you would never be like the other kids, you were his best friend. His best friend who loved to show up at his house unannounced begging to go on adventures in the middle of the busy market, his best friend who came over every Thursday just because, his best friend who was just different.

He just stared at the cake in awe, like he wasn’t able to fully believe the sight of it before him. You were anxiously waiting for him to blow the candles out, but grew impatient and grabbed his shoulders to shake him just a little. 

“Jean? You gonna blow your candles out?” Your eyes widened as you proceeded to threaten that you would do it for him.

He shook his head, snapping back to reality as you and his mom stared at him. “Sorry, just trying to think of a good wish. I got a good one now.”

He leaned forward with pride, blowing out each and every candle upon the cake. The two of you applauded, eager for a slice now that he had finally made his wish.

Angeline slid the cake towards herself so she could cut it. Jean sat back down in his seat next to you, even more giddy than before. He was smug in the way he acted, his posture stiffened, his smile turned up into a smirk.

“(Y/N), guess what my wish was?” He leaned towards you, but he wasn’t actually wanting a response, barely giving you time to think of the many possibilities, “I wished that I will become the strongest soldier out there when I go off to the cadet corps next year. I’ll be an MP so that you, me, and mom can live in the inner walls and be happy!”

You smiled back at him, leaning towards him as well, “Too bad that’s not gonna happen, I gonna kick your butt when I go. I’m gonna be one of the best scouts they’ve ever seen.” 

His expression fell in an instant when you said that. You would never forget the way his eyes widened in disbelief. Your heart raced nearly as fast as your mind, trying to think of what you said that was so terribly wrong. You always teased him, the competition between the two of you was always friendly, so surely it wasn’t that. You barely caught a glance of the tears swelled up in his eyes before he swallowed a non-existent lump in his throat. You were still trying to think of what you did in the past few moments. Jean turned back towards his mom, putting on what you both knew to be a fake smile as she handed you both your plates.

He continued as if everything was great, not even mentioning his wish yet again and you sat there merely playing along as you talked to his mother about what you guys had been up to lately and how your family was doing. Your stomach hurt and for some reason you felt guilty for making Jean upset on his special day, but you still had no clue what you said to have earned such a reaction from him.

After you finally forced down the last of your cake, you and Jean excused yourselves to go upstairs to his room for a bit. You both walked in silence up the stairs instead of running up hand in hand, giggling like the children you were. The silence was unbearable, casting an uncomfortable feeling throughout your entire body. 

He twisted the door knob to his room and you walked right in, fast with each step as you turned around to face him once he closed the door behind himself.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “What the hell do you mean you're joining the scouts next year?”

He’s mad about that? You’d mentioned it before, you knew you had. “I’ve told you before, you’ve known this, Jean.” It almost came out sounding like a plea, begging him not to be upset.

Your heart hurt in your chest as he raised his voice at you. He never acted like this. The way he paced around his room, running his hands through his hair aggressively as he huffed was a direct contrast to the usual delicate and kind boy you knew.

“I thought you were joking, not actually serious. You’re gonna die out there, have you paid any attention to how many scouts leave and how little come back?” He quickly walked toward you again, taking your wrists into both of his hands. “I’ve told you that I’m gonna take you and Mom to the interior, you don’t need to go out there and die on me!”

You couldn’t look at him as the tears began to fall down both his and your cheeks. His grip on your wrist tightened and he kept on rambling about how you just can’t go. A sob escaped your throat as your gaze remained on the floor, staring intently at anything besides his face.

“Jean,” your voice didn’t want to work, you struggled to even make out his name, “I have to. I can’t sit here and live like this my entire life, knowing that I could at least just do something, anything.”

You couldn’t even fathom trying to speak anymore, as your body was taken over with emotion crashing through it. You were scared to death of dying out there, you knew that it was a possibility, but the idea of just sitting inside the walls terrified that you too would be eaten by those heinous creatures just like the people in Shiganshina last year. You fell to your knees as you sob, hands pressed against your face while your eyes are screwed shut.

Jean rushed to hold you in his arms, falling to the ground himself not even a second after you did. His anger and fear left his body in an instant once he saw how distraught you were, the way you looked at him made him feel disgusted at himself for yelling at you; ashamed of the way he let his own concern for you add to the hurt you already had felt. His memory flashed back to the day after the titans made it into Shiganshina, how you showed up at his door with an eerily blank expression. Your eyes that typically shined, so full of life, had grown dull and void of any emotion. You reached out to him and he took your trembling hands into his to guide you to his room. He recalled the way you shuddered against him when you sat next to him on the bed, heart shattering when he felt his shirt become drenched with your tears. That was the first time Jean had seen you in a state like this, and he was the reason behind it. 

The fall of wall Maria had taken a toll on you, the realization that the walls aren’t as safe as you had thought them to be. Everyday could be your last and not only that, but any day could be Jean's last, your mother’s last, anyone else you cared about’s last. All because of the giant, man-eating monsters that drove humanity behind the walls in the first place. Jean knew this, he knew it better than anyone else. Seeing you terrified beyond belief last year made him so angry at the world, pissed off that it dared to hurt you like this. So many days and nights spent holding you as you cried, tearing his heart in two every single time. The only thing he could think of to guarantee your safety was to join the military police and take you with him. He had thought that you could finally feel safe again once he would take you there. He still thought that despite your feeble attempt at explaining why you wanted to join the scouts, the only thing you needed right now was comfort.

He sat there in the middle of his room, arms wrapped around you with your face buried in his chest for what felt like hours. He even let a few tears stream down his cheeks as he whispered apologies to you while you calmed down.

“M’sorry, I just,” He paused to think of how he wanted to word his thoughts, “I just want to protect you, you’re my best friend. I got all freaked out thinking about you going out there, and took it out on you. We can talk about this another day. I hate making you cry.”

You pulled your face away from his shirt to look up at him before you wiped away your tears with your hand, “It’s okay, really. I’m sorry too. I’m sitting here crying like a baby on your birthday.”

He laughed at you, as he saw no reason for your apology. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he pulled away from the embrace. “I’m the only one who should be apologizing,” He flicked your forehead, which earned a giggle from you, “Dummy.”

[xxiamtiebrousxx]

Could I request the tf2 mercenaries with a Ukrainian S/O? They are similar to their Russian/Soviet cousin but they're happier and a bit hyperactive always trying to make the mercs laugh with their terrible jokes in bad English, even their laugh makes the mercs laugh, but get this they are a professional with the Balalaika and even doing the Cossack dance(Kazotsky kick but fancier and with years of practice) they only find out when they catch S/O practicing in their room with either loud music while doing the kick or maybe they are concentrating on not messing any notes up on their balalaika

P.S the Cossack dance is really interesting as it also adds in sword fighting with elegant yet fierce kicks plus it's my favorite part about Slavic culture

A/n: Sorry if it seems I'm stereotyping, I'm not. If there's anything incorrect, please let me know so I can correct it! There isn't much cultural reference in this. Also, I used Google Translate.

Scout:

When you first arrived, Scout opened the door wide and the wind blew in the snow. You came riding a sled, cheering all the way and crashing right into Scout. You had a smile on your face. Scout was begging for you to remove your sled off him. You were radiating energy far stronger than his. You could dance the Hopak (the Cossack dance) for hours without breaking a sweat. It was fancier than the Kazotsky Kick. You had been dancing it ever since you were a child. Scout attempted to learn by watching you dance on the battlefield. He did not have the same experience as you and didn’t do as well.

If you weren’t bouncing off walls, you were filling the house with humor. Terrible corny jokes were your thing. Your English wasn’t very good and sometimes the jokes didn’t make sense, but Scout would laugh at them even if the others didn’t. 

“What do mountains wear to keep warm?”

“I dunno, what?”

“Snowcaps.” And Scout would be wheezing and slapping his knee. You had jokes for every time of the season and mood. You cracked jokes on the battlefield in hopes of distracting the enemy. Scout had to save you a couple times, from bullets and awkward silences.

The balalaika was your favorite traditional instrument to play. Scout always thought you couldn’t carry it properly but you politely denied his offer for help. Even if your balalaika was a bit bigger than you, you could carry it and play it phenomenally. Scout spent weeks practicing the Hopak, which you helped teach him. You put on a show for the team which amazed everyone.

Soldier:

His first thoughts were “Are they an enemy?” You just stood there, smiling brightly. If it was possible, you would be shaking full of energy. Soldier was feeling nervous, yet excited about the new addition to the team. He didn’t want to think you were menacing. You were friendly. You talked to him in Ukrainian very rapidly. You also spoke Russian, which was easy since Heavy would translate for everyone.

“Hey soldate?” 

“Yeah cupcake?”

“What do you call a pig who does karate?” 

“What’s the answer?”

“A pork chop!” Soldier never understood any of the jokes you told. It wasn’t your fault. You usually explained them to Soldier and he got them, laughing a little too late after the pun. There was some weird tension when he’d break out laughing unexpectedly like that. There were a lot of awkward silences between you and him.

He never knew you danced the Hopak. He caught you practicing and blasting music. You took your dancing very seriously. You got into the music and blocked out the outside world. You were nearly given a heart attack when he busted down your door. He never knocked. He always interrupted your dancing. You didn’t mind though. But if he interrupted when you played your balalaika, he’d end up in the respawn, waiting forever to be let back inside the base. No one messes when you’re practicing the balalaika.

Pyro:

You crashed through the roof, via jumping off a plane. You landed on your feet with drama. You landed in front of Pyro, giving a loud “tada!” and smirking. He burned you since it scared him. The team had to explain you were the newest mercenary to join the team. Pyro invited you to a tea party to make up for the injuries he caused you. You forgave him pretty quickly. Pyro liked hanging around you. You were full of life and he loved it. Pyro always liked hearing stories of your homeland.  He didn’t mind if your English wasn't perfect. He liked hearing you speak in Ukrainian or Russian. It was comforting either way.

“Pyro, miy zhuchok (My firebug), how did the barber win the race?”

“Mmmph (I dunno).”

“He knew a shortcut!” You always laughed out loud. Pyro understood some jokes, others, he didn’t. He laughed to make you feel good, but he liked them deep inside. He tried telling jokes too, but you couldn’t understand because of his mask. So you laughed along as well.

Pyro thought you danced the Kazotsky Kick very well. In fact, it was the Hopak you danced. You practiced day and night. You were so good at it. You were good at playing your balalaika. You had your own album. Every night before bed, Pyro listened to you play before drifting off. It was like a goodnight story for him, but with flair!

Demo:

He was just sitting in the recliner, watching his lawyer shows with Eyelander when you broke into the base, bouncing off walls and cheering. It scared him out of his sleepy trance. You landed in front of him, hands on hips and smiling widely. You shook his hand with such strength it shook the house. You rapidly introduced yourself in Ukrainian. It took time for poor Demo to get used to your hyperactivity, especially since you hung out with him the most.

“Hey Demo, why didn’t you bring two pairs of pants for our golf game?”

“What do you mean lad?”

“Well, what if you get a hole in one?” Your jokes were corny. He wouldn’t deny it. Demoman wasn’t all impressed. The jokes didn’t get him laughing, but it was nice to see you smiling. Your jokes also did wonders on the battlefield. It kept the enemy distracted while Demo set up a trap around them.

He always challenged you to a dance battle. The Kazotsky Kick vs The Hopak. He’d let you win sometimes, even though you were a natural. He just didn’t want to admit you were better. He was willing to admit you were good at the balalaika. He could listen to you play all day. You let him stay in your room when you practiced. He wasn’t a distraction at all. The bad thing was you had to carry him to his room after he passed out from celebrating and drinking to your music. 

Heavy:

He was expecting you. He could see you coming up over the hill, singing loudly. Heavy smiled. He knew a little bit about you and was happy that you were coming to join the team. You jumped out of the car that was delivering you to your new home and did a double back flip, landing before Heavy and waving your hands. You had a big smile on your face. Heavy picked you up and took you inside.

“Hey Heavy, why are there gates around the kladovyshche (graveyard)?”

“Pochemu (why)?”

“Because people are dying to get in!” Heavy would always laugh. His voice would send the house shaking. You both had terrible humor. You always got Heavy cracking up like crazy. Medic had to keep him hospitalized since Heavy tore a lung laughing at your jokes.

Heavy partook in your dancing. You taught each other your dances. You mastered the Kazotsky Kick in mere months. You could dance the Hopak with a sword. You could fight with the sword. It wasn’t very dangerous. The others thought it was, but Heavy assured everyone you were professional and could handle dancing with a sword. Of course, Heavy had to tend to your wounds when you did get injured so no one else would find out.

Engineer:

It was peaceful in his workshop. Engineer worked on a new model design for his sentries, he experimented around with new ways to build faster. He was enjoying this silence. Then he heard you singing loudly, playing the balalaika. You kicked the door open. It scared Engineer and he teleported into the enemy base by accident. You offered to go get him and you did. He was shaken about getting killed permanently at the enemy’s base. It was your job to fix him up. With humor!

“Hey Engy?”

“Yeah darlin’?”

“Vhat did the police officer say to his belly button?”

“Ah dunno.”

“You’re under a vest!” You giggled like a maniac. You always told bad jokes when the two of you were working. Whether it was on the battlefield or at home, you told jokes twenty four seven. Engineer adored them, but they got annoying. Of course, he never said anything because he loved them. 

There were nights when you’d follow Engy outside. He’d start a small campfire and roast s’mores with you. He’d bring out his guitar or borrow your balalaika. You had taught him some basic songs you could dance to while he played. He taught you his dance moves for the Kazotsky Kick, but he’d prefer to see you dance the Hopak, with or without a sword. Your energy would be done by then. You were exhausted, so Engineer would carry you back into your room. Every morning you’d wake him up, full of energy again.

Medic:

It was two in the morning and Medic was still working. He was running on four cups of expressos. He needed sleep desperately. But that’s when you came in. The front door slammed open. Medic, half awake, went to see what was going on. You dropped your bags on the ground and leaped at Medic, giving him a hug. You were happy to be there. He wasn’t expecting you so early. He wasn’t expecting you at all. Regardless of being exhausted, he showed you around.

“Medic, why did the Dalmatian go to the doktor?”

“Why?”

“Because it was seeing spots!” Medic would laugh dryly. You always told medical jokes just to get on his nerves. He respected that. Even his humor was bad. It brought him some joy and distraction from his dark humor. He held the ultimate doctor humor that absolutely sent your jokes to oblivion.

Did playing the accordion go along with playing the balalaika? Yes, yes it did. Medic would play his accordion and join you in music. There were fierce competitions between you two. You tried to prove which instrument was better. You proved to be the fiercest Hopak dancer. Medic could never beat you. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t try. Of course, you wiped the dance floor with him. The winner was you. Except for that time you had to forfeit because your foot was broken. Medic rubbed that in.

Sniper:

When you first walked through the base door, you noticed Sniper sitting in his dark little corner. All this energy you had bounced off Sniper like a ricocheting bullet. You tried to get him to go out with you, but he was stubborn and refused. So you decided to bring the fun to him. You dragged him into the woods where you'd play games like little children. You ended up scaring the poor guy by dressing up as a wolf and chasing him.

“Sniper, I saw a man walk into a magic forest and try to cut down a talking tree.”

“Uh huh.”

“The tree said, "You can't cut me down. I'm a talking tree!" The man responds, "You may be a talking tree, but you will dialogue.”” You were wheezing, smacking your hand down on Sniper’s back. “Klyanusya, ya smishnyy (I swear I’m funny)!” You had… somewhat good humor Sniper could laugh at. Sometimes he wouldn’t laugh since it was too corny too. Your English wasn’t that good but he didn’t mind.

Sniper would be minding his own business when music started blasting and shaking his camper. You come in dancing the Cossack with a sword. You’d dance for hours in front of Sniper who would just watch. You’d perform songs on the balalaika. Again, Sniper would just watch. But to prove you were a real professional, he’d hook up music to the PA speakers. He’d stop it every now and then, yet you’d still be playing.

Spy:

It was an easy day today. Spy was close to finishing his mission, preparing to backstab the enemy engineer when you came crashing down. You “borrowed” Soldier’s rocket launcher and landed in front of Spy, killing the engineer, destroying the sentry, and covering Spy in dust from the explosion. You held out your hand and shook his hand with such force it rattled his bones. You introduced yourself and blasted off. He was… impressed.

“Hey Spy?”

“Oui?”

“Vhy did the photo go to jail?”

“Because it was framed?” You groaned. Spy knew every joke. He knew the answer to every joke you threw at him. You were funny, but Spy had the upper hand in humor. His jokes were worse than those. Sometimes his humor was dry. So, you’d teach him some of your corny jokes he secretly used on the battlefield while backstabbing his victims.

Spy would be just reading in his room, listening to you practice songs on your balalaika. It reminded you of home. You managed to persuade Spy to dance with you. You had your own personalized music list to dance the Hopak to. Spy, reluctantly, yet willingly, joined in the dance.  He was a bit weak on getting those moves right but you helped him perfect it.

[bratkook]

cozy thief. (m) jjk

pairing. jeon jungkook x reader genre. smut, fluff, mutual pining word count. 5.1k warnings. roommate!au, cuteness!! lots of kissing & heavy petting, hand in pants action and messy/needy humping from jungkook lol  summary. a rainstorm knocking out your power is the small push needed for confessions to come tumbling out author’s note. requested for #30 from this prompt list! thank you for sending this in 🖤 (requests now closed)

The bubbling water is the only thing you focus on as you rest against the countertop, hands tightly holding onto your fluffy blanket of choice to trap all of the warmth in before it could escape. The rhythmic pattering of rain against the windows has become background noise now, already accustomed to the sound that woke you up hours ago.

It’s therapeutic really, your fuzzy socks sliding along the floor as you pull out your favorite mug, grabbing the hot chocolate mix and mini marshmallows from their rightful spot in the pantry. You don’t even think about the ridiculous electric bill you’ll be getting from how high you currently have the heater cranked up, freezing to death was not worth saving a few bucks. 

Jungkook would agree, loving the fact that he didn’t have to worry about walking around the apartment in a snow coat and scarf. Sure you were currently bundled up as if the place wasn’t maintained at a steady 75 degrees, but from the time spent living together he had grown to learn that the minute there was rain or snow you would pull out the coziest blankets regardless of temperature. 

“Can you make me one too?” He speaks up as he leans against the mini island, smiling when your blanket clad body jumps at the unexpectant sound of his voice. 

The spoon clanks against the mug as you stop stirring the hot chocolate, turning your head back to take a peek at your roommate. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Jungkook laughs now, pulling up the sleeves of his shirt as he rounds the island to grab himself a mug. “What, should I wear a bell around my neck to let you know when I’m nearby?”

“Yeah actually, you sneak up on me all the time. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day.” 

You eye his mug of choice, a Friends one that actually belonged to you, a little hard to believe considering it was the one he always used without fail. It was admittedly your fault for forcing him to binge watch the whole show on Netflix before it got taken off, but for someone who claimed he couldn’t stand it all he sure did cradle the themed mug with utmost care. 

“You’re easy to scare, can’t blame me for seeing an opportunity and taking it.” Sliding the mug in your direction he rests on his elbows, observing you as you pour in the hot water, mixing the cocoa powder and smiling when you get the first inhale of it. 

“Scare me some more and I’m revoking this mug privilege.” Jungkook knows it's an empty threat, the roll of his eyes calling your bluff so you just sigh, clutching the bag of mini marshmallows and bringing them close. “Yay or nay for the marshmallows?”

“Yay, what do I look like, an animal?” He scoffs, hand urging you to top off his drink with more sweets, a charming smile spreading out onto his face when you slide the mug over. 

Just as he’s about to take a sip you walk off, both hands cupping your drink as you slide your way out of the kitchen. “Wait, where are you going?”

You freeze at the doorway, turning around with a confused face, “To binge watch some movies in the living room? The vent by the couch makes it the best place to get toasty.”

“Mind if I join you?”

The audacity of him to ask as if he didn’t regularly crash your binging parties, still you nod your head before turning back around and continuing your trek, hearing the soft patter of his bare feet against the floor. 

“Why did you beg me to get you those cow slippers for your birthday if you refuse to wear them?” You wonder as you settle onto the couch, adjusting your blanket to circle around your lap as you bring your knees up. 

Jungkook sighs dramatically as he sits beside you, bringing his bare feet up and shoving them underneath the pile of blanket around you, laughing loudly when you yell at the feeling of his cold feet against your silk pajama pants. “Because they’re cute, besides I don’t need slippers because my roommate has the best blankets.”

Accepting your fate you simply glare at him, detesting the way he could look as good as he does while attempting to push your buttons. The smug smile against the rim of the mug shows that he knows he can get away with it, a playful wink being the icing on top as he reaches for the remote. 

You ignore the way your heart skips as he clicks onto your profile, already sorting through your favorite movies, knowing they were starred and saved under your list. As he passes Legally Blonde you gasp, almost undetected but he had been waiting for any reaction to know what to pick. 

“You know, this has become one of my favorite movies now.” He quietly confesses, pressing play and setting the remote down onto the coffee table. 

“Seriously?”

Jungkook hums as he takes another sip, eyes focused on the beginning scenes of Legally Blonde. This was definitely one of your comfort movies, even if he didn’t end up crashing your movie night he could still hear each scene from his bedroom, almost knowing every single line from how often you played it. 

He proves his point as the movie continues, the two of you slowly sinking further into the couch, no longer caring about him using your blanket as makeshift slippers as you laugh each time he recites a line, adding his own commentary as he goes. The mugs of hot chocolate are drained dry, pushed onto the coffee table, freeing up his hands that somehow wind up playing with your own in a mindless motion, slowly tracing down your fingers to gently clasp them together before pulling apart and repeating. 

Just as Elle Woods takes the floor to question the witness, the entire room goes black, Jungkook’s hands freezing on top of yours as you wait for a moment. With the loss of power you instantly feel the warmth begin to fade away, the vent right beside the couch no longer providing you the toasty escape you wanted. 

“It was getting to my favorite part.” He groans out, resting his head back onto the couch, something you can just barely see in the darkness. 

“Fuck is the whole block out of power?”

Jungkook pulls his hand away from yours as he stands up, knocking his knee into the coffee table and laughing as he tries to navigate through the dark living room. His silhouette makes it to the window, peering through it to see if maybe it was just your building that was shit out of luck, but the entire block is in fact dark. 

“Yup, it’ll probably come back soon though.”

After two more hours and another mug of hot chocolate it became very clear that the power wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Both of your phones lay screen down with the flashlight on as you finish up your drink once more, tightening the blanket around you now that the cold is becoming more prevalent. 

“We’re gonna freeze to death.”

“No we’re not, it's a rain storm not a blizzard outside. We should probably call it a night though, the floors are getting cold as fuck.”

He had still refused to put on his slippers, allowing the cold tile from the kitchen to turn his feet into icicles. “You act like you don’t own socks or slippers.”

Jungkook merely waves you off with a laugh, grabbing his phone from its spot on the counter. “Let me live, good night!” His flashlight sways with every step, illuminating the trail before he disappears behind his bedroom door, leaving you with no other option than to retreat into your own room. 

The door shuts behind you with a soft click, the rapid pattering of the rain against the window filling up the space and its no longer as therapeutic as it used to be now that you can feel the cold it brings with it.

Lighting up the candle on your nightstand, hoping the smell of gingerbread will convince your mind you’re not freezing, you settle into your bed. The feeling of your cold sheets against you has you whining, quickly pulling up the blankets at the end of the bed to warm you up as you ball into yourself. 

It's only a few minutes later that you hear the gentle knocking against your door, the top of your head just barely peeking up from the mountain of blankets as Jungkook peers inside your room. The words he wants to say leave him when he takes note of the way you're being swallowed whole by different patterns. 

“Holy shit, can you even breathe?”

“You wish you were this comfortable.” You laugh, tightening your grip on the blankets and pulling them snugly under your chin. 

He shuts the door behind him as he steps further into your room, smiling when he gets the whiff of your candle. “That's actually why I’m here, can I steal a blanket?”

The idea of parting with even one of your blankets sounds like a sin, a frown etched onto your face as you contemplate it. “If you think I’m gonna give you one of these after you refused to use the slippers I bought you, you’re crazy.”

“C’mon,” he whines, sitting on the edge of the bed and toppling over to bury his face against the warmth, fingers clutching on when you try to wiggle him off of your legs.

“No, if you take one you’re gonna fuck up the balance I have going on right now.”

“Fine,” he grunts, but just when you think he’ll give up he starts to crawl over you, long limbs making their way to the other side of the bed. You feel the cold instantly as he peels off the comforter from the right side, making himself right at home as he slides underneath it in search of warmth. “We’ll share then.”

With the way he shimmies around, finding the best position to get comfortable, you know there's no way you can shake him. He smiles into the sheets when you grumble out a fine and turn over, not trusting yourself to be able to stare at his face from a close proximity and do something you’d regret. 

A soft exhale leaves your lips as you force your eyes shut, ignoring the pounding in your chest as he inches closer so his legs don’t slip out from the blankets. You and Jungkook were roommates, and friends now underneath it all, but before you had crossed into friendship territory you realized you had a teeny tiny crush on him. 

When you had first moved in he had a girlfriend, a girl you rarely ever saw since he preferred to go to her place, so it helped tame down the crush. But once they broke up and he began spending all of his time at home, the small bursts of his personality you would see lit that crush back up. It was always hard to tell if the way he behaved around you was just the way he normally acted or if he maybe had a small interest in you as well. 

Forcing your mind from wandering deeper into fantasyland you nuzzle further into your pillow, pulling more of the blankets with you as you try to fall asleep. Jungkook feels the cold nip at his exposed ankle, huffing and flipping over to look at you with a small smile, the stolen blankets bundled around you nice and tight. 

“Steal the blanket again and I’ll put my cold feet on you.” Is the threat he makes as his fingers clutch onto the top layer of blanket and tug it back. It's a threat you don’t take lightly, gaze narrowing as you turn your head to glare at him. 

“You wouldn’t…”

His brows raise up at the challenge, jaw ticking out as he looks at you and before you can even react, he’s attacking, maneuvering himself around until he’s skillfully slipping his cold ass feet underneath the hem of your pants. You feel the cold instantly, a squeal of protest leaving you as you try to kick him away. 

“Who the fuck sleeps with no socks in this weather!”

“Me, which is why I need the blankets you thief!” He laughs out, continuing to try to yank the blankets back now that you were distracted, pulling the soft fabric out of your fists as you start to admit defeat. With a small cheer of success he pulls the warmth up and over the both of you like a little fort, his eyes crinkling up in a smile as he stares at you, now positioned right on top of you. 

Small pants escape your mouth as you slow your breathing, wide eyes blinking up at him as he refuses to move. The bed dips on either side of you as he holds himself up, lips still spread out in a smile, getting wider when he sees the way your eyes flicker down to them before looking back. 

You wanted to kiss him, he knew this, had known of your crush since the very beginning. Jungkook had taken note of the way you would stumble over words whenever you spot him leaving the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, enjoying the flustered look on your face, that being the main reason he did it so often. 

You thought you were slick, letting your eyes trace over the lines of muscle until it slipped behind the towel, but he simply let you get away with it, meeting your flustered gaze with that bunny smile you had grown to love. But as he hovers over you now there's no way he can pretend he doesn't notice the way your starry eyes stare at him, how you subtly lick your lips over. 

With a small tilt to his head he finally breaks the silence, whispering gently inside of the little cocoon he had made. “I really want to kiss you.” 

That gets him the reaction he wanted, the small gasp filling the air as your mouth drops open a tiny bit. “What?”

“Your lips look so soft, wanna kiss them.” His voice drops to a murmur, slow and husky as the words drawl out. 

He wants to kiss you, something you’ve been dreaming of for months, and now your mind is betraying you as it struggles to unscramble the words needed to respond. 

“Can I?” He asks, soft eyes looking directly at you and when you nod your head he tsks in disapproval, “Need to hear you say it love.”

The pet name makes you melt into your sheets, finally giving him a response as your brain releases your voice, “Y-yes, please kiss me.”  

Jungkook smiles in appreciation before slowly inching forward, nose gently nudging against yours as he swoops in. Your eyes flutter shut when the softness of his lips press against yours, kissing back instantly at the first touch, your mind whirling at the intoxicating feeling. Jungkook can feel his heartbeat quicken when you let out a small sigh, your shy hands gaining courage and sliding up his sides until you’re cupping his face. 

He winces at the icy feel of your fingers on his cheeks, the soft breaths of his laughter making you smile in between kisses, teeth knocking together as it begins to turn messy, the two of you just wanting more of each other now that the line has finally been crossed. 

Jungkook lets you bring him in closer, balancing on his elbows as he slots himself between your thighs, the soft smacks of your lips blending in with the light crackle of the candle and the rain from outside. 

A gentle nip of your teeth on his bottom lip earns you the first groan, the second coming when you trace your tongue along the seam of his mouth, slowly licking your way inside until it’s gently tangled against his own. Jungkook can feel his heart thrumming in his ears now, the realization that he was finally kissing you making his entire body warm up. 

The way you had behaved with him, calling him bro, punching his shoulder whenever he told jokes in an act to force yourself from ruining the friendship, made him believe that this would never happen. He didn’t want to come across as the typical cocky boy who swore he could win everyone over but the way you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers moving to grasp around his neck to bring him even closer when he unconsciously rolls his hips into yours makes him feel like he just did. 

Your wishful thinking had been true, the sweet gestures he did in day to day life stemming from the small inkling of a crush, something that had been planted the minute he started spending more time at home and around you. At first he thought nothing of it, chalking it up to enjoying spending time with his new friend, but soon enough he discovered he preferred to stay in with you, join you on your random quests to hunt for a new place to eat at, ignoring any other girl who showed any interest in him. 

As the two of you continue to kiss inside the small makeshift fort, the air becomes stuffy, Jungkook pulling away with a small laugh. “Wait, can’t breathe.”

You let go of his neck and paw the blankets off your faces, the cool air of your bedroom finally being welcomed as you catch your breath. 

“Better?” you question, smiling when he nods at you. “Good, now kiss me again.”

He doesn’t need you to tell him twice, lips cutting off the end of your sentence urgently, feeling the way you smile against him, your leg hooking over his hips like second nature. Jungkook feels like his head is spinning, the way your fingers move to rake along his hair, the soft gasps and sighs passed between you, he feels like a goner, the tipping point being your hips rutting up into his. 

Both of you pause at the sensation, Jungkook moaning into your mouth as your clothed core grinds along the slowly growing erection pressed against you. “Y/N, don’t tease me.”

“Why?” you breathe out, pressing kisses along the side of his mouth and jaw as you repeat the motion, the usual fear of him not feeling the same long gone from your mind. 

He drops himself further until his face is buried in your neck, goosebumps flaring out as his breath hits your skin when he speaks. “I’m trying to be sweet.” he murmurs, kissing your neck softly. 

“You are being sweet,” you whisper, tightening your grip around his hip, smiling when he groans while you once again rut up into him. “Am I not being sweet? Just wanna make you feel good, Kook.”

Of course you were sweet, you always have been, it was the main reason his heart started to skip around you, why he clung onto your mug like a safety net, wanting to keep a small part of you with him. If you wanted to make him feel good he was in no position to refuse, wanting to reciprocate the sweet gesture instead. 

Jungkook lifts his head up, dark waves falling over his face as he stares at you, wanting to see the look on your face as he gives the first roll of his hips into yours. He sees the way your teeth bite down onto your lower lip, pillowing the soft flesh out, mouth opening up to let out a gasp as he repeats the motion. There's never been a time where he’s been more thankful for a power outage than right now. 

“Keep going,” you urge him on, sighing beautifully when he rocks against you again, hips nudging the leg hooked around his waist higher up with each slowly thrust. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He sighs, taking a moment to fully admire you laid out underneath him, eyes sparkling as you stare up at him, mouth slightly parted as you groan at the small tingles of pleasure starting up inside of you. 

“Wanna feel you.” The confession hangs in the air for a second, the trailing of your hand down his covered chest, fingertips tickling along the sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of his sweats, is what finally brings him back. His moment of admiration being broken as your hands slips past and gently grasps his hardened cock, the expected feeling of his underwear nowhere to be found because not only did Jungkook refuse to wear socks he also refused to wear underwear. 

Your eyes widen at his size, already a nice handful and slowly growing the longer you hold it in your palm. As you give him a small pump you feel the exhaled grunt he lets out fan across your skin, his eyes falling shut as he pants out your name. 

Jungkook gasps as your palm rolls over the head of his cock, thumb rubbing along his slit and dragging the beads of precum down his length. With a shaky hand he trails down your chest, slipping past your pants and underwear. A pleased hum escapes him as he feels how wet you are, fingers sliding along your folds, collecting your arousal before coming back up to circle around your clit. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, hips jutting up at the tiny jolts of pleasure that spark each time his fingers circle around your bundle of nerves. This was definitely not how you thought your night would play out, still partially thinking you’re dreaming with your roommate asleep beside you but each time you blink the visual of his face inches from yours only gets clearer. 

“How's this?” he whispers, eyebrow cocked up as he waits for a response, the tantalizing motion of his hands making your mind scramble once more, back arching up towards him as he applies a bit more pressure. Jungkook knows what he’s doing, the way his fingers find the right rhythm to leave you whimpering only to slow down right after, just because he likes the frustrated look etched onto your face. 

A pout forms on your lips, your hands tightening their hold on his cock as you give him the same treatment, and as you slowly glide your palm down and back up, fingers refusing to go near his tip he groans in vexation. 

“You’re not being nice.” Is what you manage to gasp out just before he picks up his pace once more, lips coming back down to yours in a hungry kiss, swallowing each moan as you let them out. Each pant through his nose is felt against your cheek as your own hands pick up the pace, the two of you working in tandem as the desperation starts to grow within you. 

Jungkook wishes he could see you fully, not cocooned under a mountain of blankets, and for a split second he wants to suggest pulling them off entirely but the way the cold nips at your faces kills that idea on the spot. This would just have to do until the power came back. 

“Ah shit,” he keens out in between sloppy kisses as your hands trail further down to fondle his balls, the beginning feelings of his climax creeping up embarrassingly fast. He couldn’t help himself, for months now he had wondered what it felt like to kiss you so this whole situation put his mind into overdrive. 

You were on the same boat, the warm sensation spreading throughout you as his fingers continue to pinch and roll around your aching clit. “Wait, fuck I’m close,” you whimper out, chest rising and falling rapidly as you pull away from his mouth, a small string of spit connecting you together. 

“Really?”

“Shut up don’t make fun of me,” you protest, gasping when he starts to kiss and suck along your neck. 

“I’m not,” he mumbles, his hips rutting into your palm, fingers fisting the sheets beside you. “I’m close too.”

The whiny tone to his voice has more wetness gushing out, further ruining your underwear and Jungkook feels it as he fingers glide against your skin. That's enough to spur him on, quickening his pace with just the right pressure until your limbs are tightening up, back arching as your free hand clutches Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, and he has no intentions to, smiling against your neck as your hand stutters along his length as the pleasure you feel coursing through you. Each roll of his fingers has you seeing stars in your dimly lit room, whines getting breathier each time until you’re finally coming undone with a cry of his name. 

Jungkook feels the mess you make against his fingers, gently biting your skin as he starts to rut into your palm, the small twitches your body makes as he continues to tease your sensitive nub only making his need to cum grow. 

“Y/N,” he mewls, pulling his hand out of your pants once you hum at your name, your palm trailing up his shoulder and into his hair to gently run through it. “Wanna cum.”

You bite your lips at his words, pulling your own hand out of his pants and he cries out at the loss of contact, face lifting up from your neck and the prettiest pout on his lips that you kiss away. “Cum, use me Jungkook.”

He eyes you for a moment, a subtle nod of confirmation being all he needs to slide down his sweats a bit until his cock slips out, a small sigh filling the air at being released from its confines. He licks his lips over as he grasps his cock, resting it along your core and sighing at the smooth feeling of your pants, the silk slightly cold against him, the small wet patch along it only making him shut his eyes. 

When you widen your thighs for him to slot more easily he starts to rut forward, leaning back over you with his palms beside your face once more. Jungkook pants at the sensation, the gliding of his cock against your covered pussy, the small whines you let out each time he nudges against your clit, it kickstarts his climax once more. 

“Feels good,” he grunts out, head bowing forward and pressing against your chest as he picks up the pace, hips knocking into you each time, beads of precum dampening your silk pajama set and mixing with your own arousal. 

Jungkook doesn’t care how needy he looks right now, humping you like a desperate teenager because that’s exactly how he feels. 

“Yeah, are you gonna cum for me Kook?” you whisper, caressing his hair until he’s looking at you once more, face screwed up as he teeters close to the edge. 

When he nods eagerly you hook both legs around his waist, his mouth dropping open as he moans out unabashedly. “W-wanna feel you fully next time,” he grunts, jostling your body from the force of his thrusts, your pants wrinkling up around your thighs. 

“You will,” you confirm, wanting nothing more than to actually feel his cock without the confines of clothes and blankets. “Once the power comes back.”

He chuckles at that for a second, smiling at you through the dull glow the candle provides but then his face twists up, brows pinching and jaw going slack as his hips grow sloppy. 

“F-fuck,” he drawls out as his orgasm washes over him, hips rutting against yours with less grace than before, spurts of his warm cum splashing along your pussy and onto the small patch of skin above your waistband as he works himself through it. You sigh at the feeling, cupping his cheeks as your thumbs soothe him down. 

Jungkook continues to rock against you until he’s whimpering in overstimulation, panting as he stares down at you with the dopiest smile. He turns his head to kiss at your hand by his cheek before bending down to press his lips against your in a gentle kiss. 

“Did we just get to third base?” he whispers against your lips after the two of you fully come down, laughing when you swat at his side playfully, your own laugh filling the air as he pulls back to stare at you once more. 

Suddenly your room fills with light, the two of you squinting at the brightness, the sound of the heater kicking back is followed by the warmth from the vents beginning to flow through. 

You don’t even have to look at him to know what face he’s making, your promise of letting him fully feel you once the power came back flooding his mind. “No Jungkook,” you laugh, pushing his face away from yours as he inches closer like a child. 

“Why not?”

“Because you ruined my favorite pajamas.”

He laughs freely now, kneeling up until the blankets slide off his body, his eyes staring down at your pants and analyzing the mess the two of you made. “I mean, you ruined them first.”

Okay he has a point, but instead of agreeing you simply raise your foot up and nudge it against his chest until he topples to the side, allowing you to stand up from bed with no fear of the cold attacking you. Jungkook smiles against your sheets as he watches you grab new pants and underwear before slipping into your bathroom, emerging a few minutes later with a pair of snowman printed pants instead. 

“You wanna go finish Legally Blonde?” he asks, head perched up by his hand as he lays on his side, that charming smile on his face. 

“It’s like two in the morning.”

He shrugs, not caring about the time at all, just wanting to spend more time with you, already knowing the two of you would most likely end the night having a discussion about more than obvious feelings after what just happened. 

After staring at him for another moment you smile too, reaching your bed for the same trusty blanket you hand earlier and wrapping it around your body. But as he stands up from your bed you extend your covered up out for him to join you, a smile of success gracing his face. 

“Wow, you’re actually sharing with me.” he coos, leading the two of you back out into the living room. 

“Watch it, I’ll take it back.”

Jungkook simply wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side before you sit onto the couch. “I know you will you cozy thief.”

[awesomerextyphoon]

The Fairest One - Part 1

Summary: So your stepmother killed your father, forced you to be a servant, and hired mercenaries to kill you and your best friends. Maybe it’ll work out for the best.

Pairing: Black Female Snow White!Reader, OFC, OFC, OFC x (Steve, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Thor, Pietro, Peter, Loki, and Joaquin Torres)

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Word Count: 3K

Overall Warnings: a lot of Smut, Oral (f & m), Attempted Murder, Mild Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Child Abuse, Free Use Kink, Polyamory, Electric and Magical Stimulation, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Breeding Kink

A/N: This started as a fun idea from the Smut Hub Discord Server. This might be the sluttiest fic I’ve written to date. Dividers are by the amazing @firefly-graphics and was beta’d by @mrs-mischief-209​. 

Series Masterlist 

Main Masterlist

“Ow!! Fucking branch!” Estrella stormed as she picked herself off the forest floor.

“We tried to warn you, Ella,” Kusuma sighed noting Estrella failing to notice the branch for the third time now.

“It’s not my fault! My skirt is too long!”

“Then ditch the skirt! You’ve got pants!” Darinka reasoned as you helped Estrella off the floor.

“So how long are we goin’ keep running?” Estrella wondered.

“Until we’re sure Rumlow’s not on our ass,” you replied while checking for any indication that Rumlow and his men have followed you.

You couldn’t blame your friends for their weariness. You’ve been on the run for two days now. And despite the sinking weight of guilt in your belly, you knew this wasn’t your fault.

It was your stepmother’s.

 It started two years after your mother died. Your father, the king, was worried that you didn’t have a maternal figure in your life (didn’t consider your friends’ mothers who treated you like one of their own), and that the kingdom needed a new alliance so he married the beautiful princess of Xarida, Konjit.

Konjit was indeed incredibly beautiful. Most of the court (especially the men) were enamored with her. She was kind to everyone she met and she showered you with love and attention.

All seemed well until one day, Baron Gwerder commented on how beautiful you were becoming...just like your mother.

Konjit squeezed your shoulder as she froze on the spot and her eyes darkened. It was the last day she was kind to you.

At first, you thought nothing of it. You just spent more time with your friends and their families.

She and your father were fighting and it was getting more and more public. The relationship between her and your father wasn’t that great, to begin with; it was a marriage of convenience though it never got that bad.

Your father seemed to relent and withdraw as your stepmother took a man named Alexander Pierce as a lover.

She became colder to you and your friends; sometimes slapping you in private saying you would never be good enough to be her daughter.

Pierce, her lover, started looking younger, more handsome while your father became aged and haggard in appearance. Everyone in court started talking of it, not caring if either you or your friends could hear.

Once your father coughed up blood during a council meeting, it was only a matter of time before he would die. You begged him not to leave you, but fate seemed especially cruel.

Your stepmother didn’t even have the decency to wait until the weekend to start fucking Pierce out in the open.

She wasted no time in removing your friends’ families from the board in terms of power and to make an example out of them.

You still remember the bodies and your friends’ screams. You still have nightmares about them.

Konjit immediately sent you and your friends to the servants’ quarters to ‘be of better use to the kingdom’.

That’s how things stayed for the next nine years and you tried to make the best of it.

  “I can’t believe she tried to pull this stunt! There’s no way the public will take this lying down.” Darinka raged as she jumped over a fallen log.

“Then let us hope the rebels catch wind of it,” Kusuma encouraged noting the crowd commotion earlier.

While your stepmother had near-total control of the aristocracy, expanded the kingdom into an empire, and became rich beyond belief, she never had complete control of the public.

Especially when her reign was met with resistance.

It began with a few farmers' revolts near the edge of the empire and the Standek Republic. They grew in strength and numbers led by a group that goes by The Avengers.

It got to the point that she couldn’t just neglect you behind the castle walls. She actually had to prove that you were alive. So, she decided to throw a parade for your 24th birthday in an attempt to show the public that she really cared.

Really, bitch?! Too little, too late.

The four of you gave each other a look after she brought you to the throne room for her ‘fantastic news’. She even hired ‘bodyguards’ to make sure nothing horrible befalls you.

The leader introduced himself as Brock Rumlow. Yes, you remembered that name. They’ve been causing trouble for the female servants. Kusuma fought not to gag when some of the ‘bodyguards’ made cat caller ‘clicks’ at you.

That night, you and your friends hatched a plan of escape. You knew she was planning to have you killed during your ‘parade’, so you planned to lose them in the Reinstech Forest.

You asked Kusuma, Estrella, and Darinka if they really wanted to do this. They looked at each other, nodded, and affirmed that you’re their friend and they can’t leave you. Also, your stepmother would probably have them killed once you escaped.

You hated to admit it, but they were right.

The parade started as planned. You and your friends were fitted in dazzling dresses while the public cheered at finally seeing their princess again.

You gave Estrella the signal as soon as Reinstech Forest came into view. Somehow the crowd got restless and a fight broke out. Estrella used that instant to fire the smoke bombs, Kusuma and Darinka casted the nets and bolo restraints on your guards while you destroyed Rumlow’s tracker and sprinted into the forest along with your friends.

  After three days of trekking, you stopped to catch your breath and did a supply check. Your group had enough food and water for five more days.

It took a few more hours before you reached a clearing. The bright light gave way to a large compound with five buildings, the residence dwelling being the largest.

Estrella knocked on the front door of the residence and it just opened.

“Anyone home?” Darinka wondered as the four of you made your way into the foyer.

The residence was...something.

The foyer was enormous but filthy; it looked like someone was at least ashamed of its state and tried to clean it. The kitchen was an absolute nightmare with the sight of mold in a few places.

Luckily, there were no rodents. To your knowledge.

The living rooms were in total disarray, the bedrooms were at best in a state of controlled chaos. None of you wanted to think about the bathrooms.

“Criminy! This place is a nightmare!” Estrella cringed.

“Was this place abandoned?” Darinka asked noting the cobwebs.

“No. None of the chairs or beds are covered in dust. Judging by the food, the inhabitants should be back soon.” You observed.

“Okay, if we’re going to convince the inhabitants of this place to let us stay, we need to clean up the place,” Kusuma reasoned, “Here’s the plan…”

You and Darinka tackled the foyer, dusting, and window washing while Kusuma and Estrella cleaned and polished the living rooms. All four of you decided to take on the kitchen together.

You needed a small support group for the bathrooms.

Fortunately, they had a vast assortment of ingredients to cook a feast. Hopefully, they won’t throw them out.

You found a sparse yet spacious room with a large bed to sleep in. All of you took turns guarding the door, but you soon fell asleep.

  “Man, today was a pain!” Pietro complained as the team made their way back to the hideout.

They were wiped from taking out several of the Empress’s squads. They’ve been making excellent headway since Thor and Loki have been able to join. Also, not having the Maximoff twins as enemies was a nice bonus.

Sam got a tip from an anonymous source inside the capital that the princess would finally be seen outside the palace. It was reported that the empress was forced to prove that she hasn’t been killed. Some organizers planned on striking during the parade as a show of force against the empress.

They had planned to kidnap the princess and have her serve as a figurehead for The Resistance. Peter, Joaquin, and Pietro went to secure her Highness, but it didn’t go as planned.

First, the strike happened earlier than scheduled due to one of the younger strikers, a kid named Bradley, landing a blow to one of the nobles supportive of the Empress’s regime. Second, the strike turned into an all-out brawl. Then one of the young women in the procession activated several smoke bombs and all of the women fled the scene.

Damn it all to Hel!

They had the consolation of obliterating five of the Empress’s brigades though it was a drop in the bucket of her full force. The princess is the key to turning the tides.

Good thing no one was injured beyond a few scrapes.

“I hear the shower calling my name!” Joaquin beamed.

“Agreed. While today’s battle was exhilarating, we’re still not any closer to defeating her.” Thor noted.

“Well, we would’ve gotten some information out of that last captain if Barnes didn’t shoot him.” Loki groused.

“Lay off, Emo Mage! He was going to attack Tony, Steve, and Sam with a hell-fire blast. What exactly were you gonna do?” Peter countered.

“Why you impudent little-!”

“Enough Loki! Barnes, thank you for the save. Your skills are invaluable as always.” Steve maintained.

“Aww look! The little soldier needs to be reassured once again.” Loki mocked while Tony groaned.

“Can it Reindeer Games!”

“Will you cease with that name, Stark!”

“Ugh, here we go again-” Pietro started.

“The base feels different!” Peter interjected causing everyone to stop dead in their tracks.

“The fu-”

“Language, Cap.”

“Well Emo Mage, Shell Head, y’all have something to say?” Bucky questioned with a smirk.

“Nope.”

“My wards only go after those who would wish to harm us.” Loki scoffed.

“The kid’s senses haven’t failed us this far.” Sam pointed out.

“Let’s be careful.” Steve cautioned.

“Alright! Move aside!” Thor bellowed as he opened the door, Mjolnir in hand.

“Better not be like last time, Loki. Otherwise, you’ll owe Barton another 40.” Bucky warned while trying not to laugh.

“Quiet Frost Slayer before I…” Loki sibilated before gazing upon the once slovenly foyer.

“Holy shi-”

“Not now, Spiderling.” Thor admonished, “Something’s not right.”

“I know. That’s why I said so in the first place.”

“Parker, now is not the time to-” Steve started gazing around the foyer. It had never been cleaner even after his attempts to clean it. He could actually see his reflection looking up at him.

“What are those mouthwatering smells?” Thor praised as the other members practically drooled at the beautiful symphony of aromas coming from the dining room wave after wave.

The men nearly sprinted to the dining room to find a marvelous feast of Thick Beef Stew, Honey Tenderized Boeuf Bourguignon, 6 types of pasta, Creamy Mash Potatoes with Red Wine Mushroom Sauce, 2 Beef Wellingtons, 3 types of Quiches, Crispy Honey Orange Salmon, Chicken au Champagne, Tomato Basil and Mushroom Risottos, Cheddar Broccoli Soup, Honey Garlic Shrimp Skillet, and a whole host of other items.

“We can’t just eat this! It could be poisoned.” Steve chided much to the chagrin of everyone else.

“Really, Stevie?”

“This is the best food we’ve seen in ages!”

“Look, we have to find who made the food.” Steve reasoned.

“Well, judging by the food magic, they’re still nearby.” Loki surmised.

“Good. We’ll need to search the compound. Thor, Tony, Bucky, Pietro, and Peter: check the surrounding area. The rest of us will search the compound’s interior.”

“Fine!”

  The group was about to give up after about an hour of searching and coming up empty when Joaquin shouted, “Hey guys, over here!”

“What is it?”

“Are they hot?” Pietro inquired to the slight disappointment of the group.

“What?”

“Really, Speedfeet?” Tony deadpanned.

“Stark-”

“Pipe down! They’ll hear us.”

“Okay, Torres. Who’s the ‘they’”? Sam asked while peering through the spare room’s door.

“You’ll never guess. Come and see.” Joaquin whispered as he open the door and revealed...four of the most beautiful women they’ve ever seen. All of whom looked familiar.

“Well, what d’ya know,” Tony smirked.

“Seriously?” Loki groaned pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How in the-?” Sam started

“Okay, okay. Let’s get out of here first and then we talk about what to do with them.” Steve suggested.

“So, what do we do now?” Joaquin queried.

“I don’t like this. It could be a trap.” Pietro grumbled remembering Wanda’s best friend, Radoslava.

“That may be. I wouldn’t put it past the Usurper.” Thor mused.

“Let’s let them sleep. When they wake, we can interrogate them.” Steve put forward.

“Hey, Loki, could you use calming and truth spells during the questioning?” Sam asked.

“’ Tis a small matter.” Loki waved dismissing the matter as an infinitesimal task

“Um, so now that we have a plan for the women, what do we do about the food?” Peter wondered as everyone’s stomach started growling with a vengeance.

“Well,” Steve gulped,” since neither Loki nor Tony sensed anything amiss with the food. So maybe we can- Wait! Stop! You’ll wake them up!”

  Dinner was...entertaining.

“Guys stop fighting! There’s enough food for everyone!” Steve shouted while saving several plates.

“I would if Thor would stop hogging all the beef!”

“Then trade me some of the chicken and salmon, Samuel!”

“C’mon Tony! Put the armor away! You can shoot Bucky with a repulsor ray over a Dinner Roll!”

“Have some class, Cap! It’s a Buttery Honey Brioche Roll. Do you know how hard it is to make them this well?!”

“Peter! Get that quiche off the ceiling! You can’t eat them all!”

“You sure about that, Torres?”

“Pietro! Stop swiping the pasta!”

“I need carbs, Пиздец!”

“Ugh! Loki, could you help, please?!”

“Not a chance, soldier!”

“I should've asked for Strange to join instead,” Steve grumbled under his breath.

“What was that, mortal?”

“Nothing!”

“Fuck it. Give me a plate of that Braised Lamb and Mash Potatoes!” Steve barked giving up any notion of having an orderly meal.

The food was gobbled up in record time. Everyone hoped that the women weren’t spies for the empress. That was the best meal they’ve ever had!

  “Ugh. Where are we?” Kusuma yawned. She was always the first to wake up in the morning. Everything seemed to be in order until she noticed the door being open wider than last night.

“Girls, wake up!” She hissed while gently shaking them awake.

“Okay, okay, we’re awake!” Estrella lethargically groused, “So what happened last night?”

“I don’t know, but I sense other lifeforms, nine of them.” you fretted noting the lifeforms being dispersed throughout the compound.

“They didn’t do anything, but we can’t let our guard down,” Darinka warned while checking her clothes and surroundings.

“I wonder if they enjoyed our offering?”

“That’s your first priority?!”

“Don’t look at me like that, ‘Suma! I put a lot of effort into that meal!”

“Well, we won’t know unless we leave this room. Let’s head out.” You suggested as you and your friends got dressed and headed towards the foyer.

“Oh, Hello! Who’s the cutie?”

 You and your friends made your way to the foyer to see if any of the compound’s inhabitants were there when Estrella spotted someone in one of the living rooms.

The figure laying on the couch could best be described as boyishly handsome. He was tall (5’11½”/1.82m) with Slate Black hair, Scorched Brown eyes, Sahara Gravel skin with Pink Sand and Orange Maple undertones. His body was of a lean build with evidence of a few battle scars on his hands and forearms and he was dressed in a customized ranger’s outfit.

“Not again.” Kusuma sighed at Estrella’s antics not wanting a repeat of the driving intern incident.

“Um, hello there.” you waved as the man walked towards you.

“Good Morning!” the man welcomed in a surprisingly deep voice.

“Fuck, even his voice is sexy!” Estrella gushed under her breath.

“My name is Joaquin, Joaquin Torres.”

“Ooh! My name is Es-” Estrella tried introducing herself before Darinka cut her off with her hand.

“We are but humble travelers. On behalf of all of us, I apologize for the intrusion. We were exhausted from our journey. Please accept the food we made as a token of our appreciation.” You explained hoping Torres wouldn’t need any further explanation.

“Just so you know, the guys and I agree that dinner was the best meal we’ve ever had!” Joaquin complimented

“Well, that answers my question.”

“Fuck, she’s flustered now,” Kusuma swore while Darinka nodded in annoyance.

“Where did you say you were going again?”

“I’m sorry, Joaquin, but that’s our business.” You insisted.

“Fine, fine, fine. Well, at least let me get the rest of the guys here to thank you all before you leave.”

  “So we can either stay and see what the rest of the ‘guys’ are like, or we can make a run for it.” You offered to your friends.

“I have a few smoke bombs left and I brought a taser!”

“Damn it, Darinka!”

“You’re just mad because you didn’t think to do the same, Kusuma!”

“I say we stay and hear them out. They didn’t do anything to us in our sleep.” Estrella pointed out.

“That may be true, Estrella. But we don’t know if they’ll just turn us into the empress.” Kusuma countered.

“I doubt that, Kusuma. If that’s true, then why didn’t they do it while we were sleeping? They had all night.” you reasoned.

“But maybe they want to make sure you’re the-”

A sharp cough shattered Kusuma’s train of thought and caused the four of you to turn around.

“Shit!” Darinka blurted.

Standing before you were the famed leaders of the Resistance, The Avengers. The Captain, The Knight, The Spiderling, The Thunder, The Trickster, The Silver Speedster, The Peregrin, The Angel, and The Winter Soldier.

There were others, but they seem to not be here.

“Hel...Hello.” Kusuma faltered. It was all she could muster in the face of the sheer magnitude of their situation.

“Good morning, ladies.” Steve, the Captain, greeted, ”I see you’ve made yourself at home, princess.” your eyes widened in shock, “We need to talk.”