#i don't realise how touch starved I'm letting myself get

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Doing that fucking around on my phone instead of sleeping because I feel like I want to do more thing except there's nothing I wanna do. I don't wanna read or watch or draw or anything. Tbh all I want to do is like. Cuddle someone maybe.

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Until I Found You [2]

Pairing: prince!Yeosang x princess!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 13.5k 🤡

Trigger Warnings: emotional abuse, manipulation, mistreatment

Summary: It had been a while since Lady Park's firm rejection, and the fourth prince was beginning to believe he would never get over her. Though the heartbreak had made him more mature, one thing remained unchanged: his stubborn reluctance to marry. Convinced he would never find someone who could understand his pain as deeply as the general's wife, he was unprepared for the surprise life had in store for him—one that came in the form of a foreign princess.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"It's late. We should likely retire for the night. May I escort you back to your chambers, my princess?" Yeosang's deep yet gentle voice sent a ripple through your heart—one that had been starved of warmth ever since you set foot in this foreign land. His genuine kindness touched you deeply, far more than he could ever know. For once, it was not a gesture for the sake of appearances, but something sincere.

"N-no, thank you, Your Highness," you replied, rising from your seat beside him. "I remember the way back and can manage on my own just fine."

A flicker of what seemed like admiration crossed his face as he stood to meet your gaze. "On your own? Are you sure? The palace can be like a maze at night. I don't mind walking with you—"

"I'm sure, truly," you said, cutting him off with a small, shy smile. "I was planning to explore a little more anyway. You should rest. I'll… see you soon, my prince." You bowed slightly, your reluctance was evident as you quietly exited, leaving him behind before he could press the matter further.

As much as you longed to accept his offer, you couldn't bear the thought of him seeing the reality of your living conditions or the disdainful treatment you received from the palace servants. You were far too ashamed to let him witness such things—you didn't want him to see how lowly you were regarded. You wanted to keep things as they were; for him to see you as a person with dignity, not merely as an object or a tool of duty.

It's better this way, Prince Yeosang.

Making your way back to your quarters, you realised the fourth prince had been right—it was indeed like a maze, and you found yourself stumbling through the winding paths. After a few wrong turns and frustrating detours, you eventually caught sight of the familiar building you were staying in for the time being. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. No one was waiting for you anyway, or so you thought. Yet, something was off.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you noticed the lanterns in your chambers were already lit. Who could be there? Panic surged through you—could it be your father?

Your heart raced as you noticed a line of palace maids standing in the courtyard, leading up to your room. The servants were unfamiliar to you; not the ones assigned to your service. These belonged to someone else. Clearing your throat to steady yourself, you entered cautiously, nodding in acknowledgement as the maids bowed low and greeted you as you passed.

With a shaky breath, you finally stepped into your room, your nerves still rattled by the unknown. But then you saw a figure, his back turned to you. A small breath of relief escaped when you realised it wasn't your father—just your… fiancé. But perhaps you had been too quick to let your guard down.

Your heart stopped when he slowly turned to face you, his expression dark and menacing. "Where the hell have you been?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

A chill ran down your spine at his words. Why did he care? What did it matter to him? You weren't supposed to be seen together until the morning anyway, so what could he possibly want?

"I… I was just taking a walk around the palace, Your Highness," you stammered, your voice shaking. "I thought I'd familiarise myself—"

He cut you off with a scoff, stepping toward you. That was when you noticed the slight sway in his step. He was drunk.

"Taking a walk around by yourself?" he sneered, his tone dripping with contempt. "Have you not listened to anything I've said? We are to play the perfect couple, and how do you think it would look to others if you were seen wandering around without me by your side? What kind of husband would they think I am? From now on, you are not to leave this building without me. Do you understand me, woman?"

The harshness of his words stung, your heart sinking as his command set in. This wasn't just about appearances—this was control. You opened your mouth to protest, the thought of your newfound friendship with Yeosang flickering in your mind.

"But, my prince—" you gasped as his hand suddenly gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up into his cold, narrowed eyes.

"I said, am I understood?" he repeated, the menace in his voice unmistakable.

You trembled under his grasp, nodding tearfully. He loosened his grip, his hand trailing down your face and lingering at your neck. "Now, that's a good girl." A wave of fear swept over you as his hand continued to drift lower, sending a shudder through your body. Desperate, you forced yourself to speak.

"Y-you should rest, Your Highness," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady. "I fear it wouldn't be appropriate for others to see you here so late. We're not officially married yet."

His eyes flickered with understanding, and his lips twisted into a sly grin. The stench of alcohol on his breath was overpowering.

"Finally," he said with a slurred chuckle. "You say something smart. I'll see you tomorrow then, princess."

With a mocking smile, he turned on his heel and left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as you stood frozen in place, your heart pounding in your chest. You waited until you could no longer hear him before collapsing onto the floor, trembling as the tears you'd held back began to fall.

As you remained in the same spot for what felt like an eternity, your mind raced, torn between relief and dread. A small, bitter smile tugged at your lips—thank the heavens you hadn't let the fourth prince walk you back tonight. The thought of what could have transpired had Yeochan found him with you sent a shudder through your entire being. What if he had seen? What if no amount of convincing could have diffused his anger? The memory of his disgusting hands on you sent another shiver down your spine.

God help me, please...

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe steadily, but the reality of your situation weighed heavily on your chest, pressing down with an unbearable force. This was your future, this man—this cold, vicious prince—was to be your husband.

The thought filled you with despair. You had heard rumours about royal marriages, about how they were rarely based on love or affection, but to face it in such a brutal, personal way… it was more than you could have imagined. Tears continued to stream down your face, soaking the sleeves of your garment as you hugged yourself, wondering how you would survive this life bound to him.

Loneliness had been your greatest fear, but now, as you stared into the empty darkness of your chambers, it seemed that loneliness would have been kinder than the fate that awaited you at the ninth prince's side.

You weren't sure how long you had been sitting there, but you knew that rest was essential if you were to face breakfast the next morning. The thought of maintaining your composure—looking at least somewhat decent for the final shared meal before your father's departure, as he was finally returning to Ruhon—loomed large in your mind. It wasn't just a matter of appearance; the King and Queen of Joseon would also be present, and you needed all your strength to uphold your act around your father and your soon-to-be husband.

Like a weary spectre, you dragged yourself to your bed, the weight of the evening's events still pressing heavily on your shoulders. With a sigh of resignation, you removed the outer layer of your hanbok, letting it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap before climbing into the bed, the comforter feeling like a fragile barrier against the cold reality of your situation.

You pulled the covers close, seeking solace in their warmth, as a fresh tear slipped down your cheek. "It'll be okay," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible. As exhaustion finally overcame you, you closed your eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace amid the turmoil.

The following morning, the air in the grand dining hall was thick with formality and unspoken tension. As you sat at the breakfast table, trying to compose yourself, the King of Joseon turned to your father, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Are you truly certain it is acceptable to proceed with the ceremony without your presence, or that of the Queen of Ruhon, or even Royal Concubine Sarisu to witness the princess wed, Your Majesty?"

Your father, seated across from you, stifled a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a wicked satisfaction. He shook his head lightly before turning to you with a smug grin that made your stomach churn.

"No need," he responded, his voice laced with mockery, clearly intended for you to hear. "Princess Sarisu is my most independent daughter. She'll do fine without us. I'm sure her mother would love to see her off, but the lady is too weary to travel the distance. We'll leave our princess in your good hands, Your Majesty."

His words sent a cold shiver down your spine. You could feel the blood boiling beneath your skin, your fists trembling as you clutched the fabric of your hanbok, desperately trying to maintain your composure. Because that was a goddamned lie. Your mother was fine, perfectly capable of making the journey. This was his revenge, his way of punishing you for defying him.

While you were more than fine with the fact that you might never see him again, the realisation that you would miss the chance to see your mother one last time before your marriage struck you like a blow. She had only one daughter, and now she wouldn't even be there to witness your wedding—an event that, though not of your choosing, still held immense significance. The cruelty of your father was overwhelming, and a deep bitterness settled in your heart.

How could this man, the one who was supposed to protect and cherish you, be so heartless? The thought of him returning home to your mother, likely to mistreat her out of spite, filled you with both dread and simmering rage. But there was nothing you could do. You were trapped in this gilded cage, your future bound to a man you did not love, and your past severed by the very person who should have loved you most.

The ruler of Joseon, perceptive as ever, was quick to notice the tension simmering beneath the surface between you and your father. In an attempt to ease the heavy atmosphere, he let out a light chuckle. "I understand. Fear not, we will do well to take care of the princess. Right, Ninth Prince Yeochan?" His Majesty asked, his gaze shifting to his son seated beside you.

At the mention of his name, you stiffened, feeling your fiancé's arm snake around your shoulder. The contact was anything but comforting. Your fists clenched tightly around the skirt of your hanbok, desperately trying to stop your hands from trembling. Yeochan smiled, a smile that looked convincing enough to anyone who wasn't aware of the truth, and nodded, pulling you uncomfortably closer to him.

"Of course, Father," he replied, his tone dripping with false sincerity. "I will cherish her like the blessing she was bestowed upon me." His sweet words drew a coo from both his father and Her Majesty, their expressions softening with approval.

But your heart only hammered in dread.

Couldn't they hear the subtle sarcasm lacing his words? The forced affection in his actions? You felt as though you were the only one who could see through the facade, the only one who understood that those words, far from being a promise, were a warning. The weight of your fate pressed down on you even more heavily as you realised that no one would come to your aid. To everyone else, this was a union to be celebrated—but for you, it was the beginning of a nightmare.

"Is that right? I do hope you mean what you're saying, as this is what keeps the ties between Joseon and Ruhon strong."

The unexpected deep voice reverberated through the hall, catching everyone off guard. But for you, it was like a sudden gust of wind calming the storm within. Almost afraid that his presence was a mere figment of your imagination, you slowly lifted your head. When your eyes met the familiar figure standing at the entrance, you breathed a small sigh of relief. It really was the fourth prince in the flesh.

Oh, thank god.

Before your fiancé could react, the Queen cleared her throat, her voice laced with surprise. "Prince Yeosang, what a surprise. What brings you here, my son?"

He stepped forward, bowing respectfully to his parents. "I heard a send-off event was being held for the King of Ruhon this morning and thought I'd join," he responded, his tone calm and composed. He then turned to your father, his expression respectful. "I've come to make up for my short presence at the banquet last night, Your Majesty. I apologise for not being very social."

Your father, ever the opportunist, bit his lip to suppress a smirk, clearly amused by the situation. "Why, of course, Fourth Prince Yeosang. Please do join us."

You could almost feel the anticipation radiating from your father, eager for the drama he expected the once-rebellious prince to stir. But you knew better. The fourth prince was far too mature, too composed, to indulge in such pettiness. His presence served as a silent reminder of what true nobility looked like, a stark contrast to the cruel games your father played.

As he took a seat, his calm demeanour brought you a small measure of peace. "Good morning, my princess," he greeted you with a kind smile, acknowledging his younger brother with only a brief nod. For a fleeting moment, the weight of your situation seemed to lift.

"Good morning, my prince," you replied softly, subtly shrugging your soon-to-be husband's hand from your shoulder.

Amid the turmoil surrounding you, at least there was someone who saw through the facade, someone who, though he may not openly challenge it, was a beacon of quiet strength and reassurance.

"Careful, princess. Stare at my brother any longer, and people might mistake him for your fiancé instead," Yeochan whispered threateningly into your ear, his voice laced with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl. "Remember who you belong to."

You swallowed hard, a shiver running down your spine as you quickly averted your gaze from Yeosang. "Y-yes, Your Highness," you murmured obediently, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to suppress the fear gnawing at you.

Unbeknownst to you, none of this escaped the watchful eye of the fourth prince. He had always been perceptive, and though he knew that no arranged marriage could be perfect from the start, especially in a place as politically charged as the palace, what he saw didn't sit right with him. You were the first person within the palace he had ever considered a friend and he would hate to see you trapped in a marriage too unhappy.

Yeosang's gaze softened as he watched you, his heart heavy with unspoken concern. He knew he couldn't intervene openly, not without causing a scandal, but he would find a way to help you. For now, all he could offer was the comfort of his presence, a silent promise that he would be there if you ever needed him.

After a tension-filled meal, it was finally time to send the ruler of Ruhon off. The air was thick with formalities and forced smiles as everyone gathered in the courtyard. Your father, ever the performer, approached you with a sneer hidden beneath a mask of fatherly affection. He leaned in close, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

"Goodbye, my daughter. Have a good life here," he whispered with venom, pulling you into a brief, cold embrace. The act was flawless, his expression one of tender care, but the words he spoke cut deep.

As he began to pull away, you instinctively reached out, gripping his sleeve in a desperate attempt to appeal to whatever shred of humanity he might have left. "Father, please… I've done what you asked. Just let Mother be."

He scoffed, his eyes flicking down at you with a mix of disdain and amusement. "You think too highly of yourselves. I have more important things to do than to toy with her." His voice was icy, his words dripping with indifference. "I'd worry more about myself if I were you," he added, his tone dismissive.

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, heading toward his carriage without so much as a backward glance. You stood there, the sting of his final words echoing in your mind as he disappeared from view. The realisation that you were truly alone in this foreign land, with no family to support you, settled in your chest like a heavy stone.

As the crowd began to disperse, your fiancé approached with his usual display of false affection, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Come, love. Let me escort you back," he said, maintaining his flawless act. To those unaware of the truth, his performance was convincing, hiding the darkness beneath his smile.

Before he could take your arm, however, Yeosang stepped forward, his presence both unexpected and reassuring. "Wait, my princess!" he called out, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. "Didn't we agree to exchange more literary knowledge?" His words caught everyone off guard, especially his parents and brother. With infectious enthusiasm, he turned to the King. "Father, you won't believe it! Her Highness is incredibly well-versed in poetry and a great admirer of Shin Sukju's works. Would it be alright if I borrowed her for a bit? We'll just be in the library, and it would be a wonderful opportunity for me to bond with my future sister-in-law."

Before the ninth prince could protest, His Majesty clapped his hands in delight. "Oh, really? That's impressive! Yes, yes, like-minded young people like yourselves should definitely spend time together and learn from each other. Please, go ahead."

The Queen nodded eagerly in agreement, her eyes lighting up with genuine joy. Both she and the King seemed pleased to see Yeosang stepping out of his usual isolation and making an effort to connect with someone, even if it was the foreign princess.

"Thank you, Your Majesties," you said respectfully, bowing to your soon-to-be in-laws, not forgetting to offer a slight bow to Yeochan as well. "I shall see you soon, Your Highness."

With a gentle smile, Yeosang gestured for you to follow him. "Come, my princess." Feeling your fiancé's gaze burning into your back, you hesitated only briefly before walking away, finding solace in the fourth prince's calm and composed presence. Together, you left the courtyard, leaving your betrothed behind with a frustrated scowl hidden behind his practised facade.

Lost in your thoughts about how Yeochan would likely react once you returned from this meeting with the fourth prince, you barely noticed you had arrived at your destination.

"We're here, princess."

His voice snapped you out of your trance, and you looked around with wide eyes, startled by the unfamiliar surroundings. "Wh-what—I thought we were heading to the library, Your Highness?" you stammered, taking in the serene view of the cherry blossom garden, the very place where you had first met him. The pavilion stood before you, just as it had that day.

Yeosang smirked, gesturing for you to take a seat. "That was clearly a lie. We wouldn't be able to converse freely if we were in the library. Now, come sit with me."

With a soft chuckle, you complied, both of you settling down opposite each other. His mischievous grin hinted at the rebellious side everyone had whispered about, and you found yourself amused by it.

"Besides," he added, his tone more serious now, "I had a feeling you could use some fresh air. I hope this is alright with you. We can always leave if you prefer."

Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. There was something disarming about his considerate nature, something that made the weight on your chest feel a little lighter. You shook your head with a small smile.

"Not at all. This is more than okay."

As your gaze drifted toward the barren cherry blossom trees, the fourth prince couldn't help but notice the sorrow and quiet despair reflected in your eyes. The weight of your situation was not lost on him. To be sent away to a foreign land, bound in marriage to a man you hardly knew, and expected to act as though all was well—it was a fate he could scarcely imagine. Though he couldn't change your circumstances, he hoped, as a friend, to ease your burden somehow.

"Is... everything alright, princess?" Yeosang ventured cautiously, recalling how the ninth prince had whispered something that seemed to shatter your composure in mere seconds. The change in your demeanour had not escaped his notice, and it unsettled him. What could Yeochan have said to unnerve you so thoroughly? The thought troubled him, especially seeing how uncomfortable you appeared around the man you were meant to wed.

You gulped, offering a polite nod without fully meeting his eyes. "Yes, of course. It will take some time for me to adjust to my new life here, but I will be fine, my prince. Your concern is most kind."

His smile was faint, knowing full well your words were more for courtesy than truth. He was aware that despite the bond of friendship forming between you, there was still much distance between your hearts. He had no right to press further, not yet.

"I see," he replied, his tone thoughtful. "I hope Prince Yeochan is treating you well. My brother is known for his ambition and his... bluntness, but he should make a suitable husband... wouldn't you say?"

You struggled to maintain the smile that barely clung to your lips, biting down hard enough on your lower lip that you feared it might bleed. "I suppose... I cannot truly say. We aren't married yet, after all. He's been kind to me thus far."

In public, at least.

Determined not to dwell on your unhappy thoughts and wanting to make the most of the time spent with your first and only friend, you straightened up, beaming at him. "So, tell me, Your Highness, what are some things you think Joseon does better than Ruhon?"

Yeosang narrowed his eyes playfully at your cheeky question, a spark of mischief dancing in them. "Ah, yes, always up for a good debate, are we? I shall prove to you that this nation is indeed worth leaving Ruhon for," he quipped, his tone light-hearted and playful.

His jest made you chuckle, the weight on your shoulders lifting just a little. You knew, of course, that no argument could ever make you truly feel at ease about your forced departure from your homeland, but his attempt to lift your spirits was enough to make you feel lighter at the moment.

With that, the conversation shifted into a lively exchange. He launched into stories of Joseon's cultural achievements, its rich history of scholarship, and the honour of its warriors. He spoke of the grand palaces, the festivals that brought the people together, and the scholars who shaped the nation's identity. You found yourself engrossed in his tales, the passion in his voice making even the smallest details feel important.

In return, you shared stories of Ruhon, the traditions that bound your people, and the unique customs that defined your homeland. You spoke of the festivals under the moon, where dancers twirled to the beat of drums, and how the scent of spices lingered in the air long after the market stalls closed. You told him about your childhood, the way your mother would braid your hair by the hearth, and the songs the village elders would sing when the harvest season came to an end.

The conversation flowed easily, each of you learning more about the other's world. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt like you could simply be yourself. Yeosang's genuine interest in your stories and his willingness to share his own made you feel seen, something you hadn't experienced since your arrival.

Through this exchange, you felt the bond between you deepen. It was as though, amidst all the uncertainty, you had found a friend—a true companion who saw you not as a foreign princess, but as someone with a rich life of her own. It gave you comfort to know that in this unfamiliar world, there was someone who shared your love for learning, who appreciated the differences between your homelands, and who, in his own quiet way, made you feel less alone.

After listening to you gush about missing the sweets of Ruhon, his eyes lit up. "Oh, we have this snack called Yakgwa! It's heavenly, you must try it! I'll have the kitchen servants prepare some for us," he said enthusiastically, already rising to get things arranged.

Before he could move further, a sigh escaped his lips as he spotted his eunuch rushing over, looking frazzled. "Your Highness! We were told you were in the library, but you were nowhere to be found. The royal tutor is waiting, and it would not do to keep him any longer!"

The prince's expression immediately darkened, irritation flickering in his eyes. It seemed as though he was about to protest when, unexpectedly, he said something you hadn't anticipated. "I understand, Eunuch Hwang. But shouldn't you first acknowledge the princess and show her the respect due before all else?"

Your jaw dropped slightly at his words. That was the last thing you had expected him to say. He really was different. Gratefulness flooded through you as the eunuch, now flustered, hastily bowed. "M-my apologies, Your Highness! This servant greets Princess Sarisu, the future Ninth Princess of Joseon."

The reminder of your impending title made you shift uncomfortably, but you nodded in acknowledgement, trying to keep your composure. The fourth prince huffed in mild annoyance, then turned back to you with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, princess, it seems I have lessons to attend. But don't worry, we'll get you those sweets tomorrow."

Your breath caught in your throat. "T-tomorrow?" The idea of seeing him again was comforting, but the thought of how your fiancé would react twisted your insides with dread.

Yeosang, oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside you, smiled warmly. "Yes, tomorrow. I'll escort you myself."

Your eyes widened in panic. You shook your head vigorously. "N-no! I'll come meet you myself!" Something flickered in his gaze, a quiet realisation, but he didn't press you. His understanding smile remained, though you could sense that he was beginning to notice something wasn't quite right. "Of course, princess. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Same place, same time."

You nodded, your voice soft as you repeated his words. "Same place, same time. See you, Your Highness."

With one last smile, he bowed his head slightly before turning to follow his eunuch, leaving you standing there, heart racing at the thought of tomorrow—and the inevitable confrontation you might have to face.

That evening, you returned to your chambers with a heart heavy with dread, expecting the ninth prince to be waiting, but to your surprise, the room was empty. Not a single soul lingered—not even the group of servants assigned to you. It seemed they hadn't bothered to wait for you to return and dismiss them.

With a tired shrug, you went about your routine, refreshing yourself and settling down with one of the few books available in your quarters. But as you read, a furrow creased your brow. The sky outside had grown dark, and no one had come to light the lanterns. You waited for a while longer, hoping someone would arrive, but it became clear no one was coming.

Sighing, you rose from your seat and made your way to the storeroom to fetch the necessary items. It was a menial task, but with your own hands, you lit the lanterns one by one, the soft glow slowly filling your chambers. Dusting off your hands, you gazed around at the lit room with a small sense of pride, but that brief satisfaction was quickly overshadowed by the rumbling of your stomach.

Crap, I'm starving...

The usual time for your meal had long passed, and still, no one had come to bring you food. You stood by the entrance of your cold, lonely chamber, waiting, your stomach growling louder with each passing minute. The chill in the air began to creep into your bones, but still, there was no sign of anyone.

After what felt like an hour, the cold became unbearable, and you retreated back inside, pulling the covers of your bed over yourself. Laying there somberly, you couldn't help but wonder if this was Yeochan's punishment. His way of showing you the consequences of spending time with his brother.

You hadn't eaten much that morning. If only you'd known that would be your only meal of the day, you might have had more. But now, all you could do was hug your empty stomach and curl into your side, trying desperately to fall asleep on an empty belly.

As you curled up beneath the covers, the ache in your stomach gnawing at you, a small smile crept onto your face. Despite the discomfort and the coldness of your empty chambers, the thought of tomorrow brought you a glimmer of warmth. You were going to see Yeosang again, and that simple fact made everything feel a little more bearable.

Tomorrow, there would be no pretence, no masks to wear. Just you and your friend, sharing stories, and learning more about each other's worlds. That hope was enough to chase away the shadows of the evening, if only for a while. You sighed softly, your mind finally quiet, and with that thought, you allowed sleep to take you, clinging to the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

The next morning, your chambers remained eerily quiet, a clear sign that no one had any intention of attending to you. You rubbed your growling stomach, frowning as the realisation sank in that you'd be left to fend for yourself again. Sighing softly, you went about getting dressed, thankful that the task wasn't overly difficult. Back home, you and your mother had grown accustomed to doing things on your own, so you managed just fine. The hanbok, with its simpler design compared to Ruhon's attire, was much easier to slip into, and while your hair wasn't as neatly styled as the palace servants would have done it, it was at least presentable.

The gnawing ache in your stomach remained, reminding you that no meal had been provided. You bit your lip, trying to push the discomfort aside. But then, a glimmer of hope sparked within you as you remembered Prince Yeosang's promise from the day before. He had mentioned getting the kitchen to prepare some sweets—perhaps that would be your salvation today.

Enduring the hunger, you bided your time until noon, your anticipation slowly building with each passing minute. By the time you made your way toward the cherry blossom garden, your heart was fluttering with excitement. The thought of seeing Yeosang again brought a warmth that softened the cold indifference of the palace. Even if everything else seemed uncertain, you found solace in the one friendship that was blossoming amid the darkness.

As you approached the garden, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the sight of the familiar pavilion and the thought of spending time with the fourth prince making everything feel, at least for now, a little more bearable.

"Good afternoon, princess," the familiar deep voice called out, filling you with a sense of warmth and relief. It was all you needed to feel better. As you turned toward the table, your eyes sparkled at the sight of the colorful array of snacks displayed before you. The vivid hues of the treats beckoned, a stark contrast to the dullness of your morning.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness," you greeted Yeosang, your voice lighter than it had been all day. As you moved to settle down, a loud growl erupted from your stomach, the sound echoing embarrassingly between you both. You quickly bit your lip, cheeks heating up in mortification.

His eyes widened in surprise. "Haven't you had your breakfast yet?" he asked, concern replacing his usual teasing tone.

You cleared your throat, scrambling for an excuse. "I-I… I was just too excited to try these," you gestured to the snacks on the table, forcing a smile. "You know, had to make space for them."

His brow furrowed as he shook his head, clearly unconvinced. "Absolutely not," he chided gently. "You know better than to skip such an important meal for some sweets." His voice was stern yet filled with genuine care, a tone you hadn't heard directed toward you in so long. "Stay here. I'll get you some proper food."

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest as you watched his reliable figure move away, leaving your side to fulfill his promise. You blinked back the sudden tears that welled up in your eyes.

God, why couldn't he be the one you were meant to marry? You hugged yourself tighter, the thought slipping into your mind unbidden, making the situation even harder to bear. The fourth prince's kindness, his gentle presence—it was all you wanted. Yet, your fate was bound to another. Still, in this fleeting moment, you allowed yourself the indulgence of wondering what it would have been like if things were different.

Yeosang returned swiftly, carrying a tray of steaming food with a determined look in his eyes. "Here you go," he said as he set the meal before you. The warm, savoury aroma made your stomach ache even more with hunger, and despite the embarrassment that still lingered, you couldn't deny how much you needed this.

"Eat," he instructed softly, his tone leaving no room for protest. You nodded, grateful beyond words, and dug into the meal. The warmth of the food instantly soothed the emptiness gnawing at your insides, and you couldn't help the small hum of satisfaction that escaped your lips. He smiled, watching you with silent approval.

"You shouldn't go without food, princess. How else will you have the energy to put me in my place when we debate Joseon versus Ruhon?" he teased lightly, the tension lifting between you.

You chuckled, swallowing a bite. "You have a point, Your Highness. Can't have you winning all the arguments, now, can I?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "I wouldn't want that either." His voice was rich with amusement, the sound easing the tightness that had settled in your chest earlier.

Once you had your fill of the warm meal, he pushed the tray of sweets toward you. "Now you can enjoy these without starving yourself."

Your eyes brightened as you looked at the colourful treats. "Thank you," you murmured, popping a piece of Yakgwa into your mouth. The honeyed flavour melted on your tongue, every bite as delightful as he had described. As you enjoyed the sweets, the conversation between the two of you flowed like a river, smooth and endless.

You began with light topics—favourite poems, childhood stories—before moving on to deeper discussions. Yeosang shared captivating tales of Joseon's history, recounting stories of ancient kings and battles long past, while you spoke of Ruhon's traditions, the bright stars in its night skies, and... your mother.

"You must be close to her," he observed with a gentle smile.

You nodded, your chest tightening at the thought of your mother. "Very. She's the one thing I truly couldn't bear leaving behind."

He glanced down, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach out to you but stopped himself. "Perhaps you'll see her again someday."

"Perhaps..." you whispered, though the doubt in your voice was unmistakable. You quickly steered the conversation elsewhere, eager to escape the painful thought, diving back into the differences between Ruhon and Joseon.

Yeosang listened closely, his curiosity evident in the way he soaked in every detail you shared. In turn, he painted vivid pictures of life in Joseon, filled with colour and history. The two of you became engrossed in friendly debates, passionately defending your homelands' best qualities.

As the conversation wore on, it became lighter, drifting toward more personal topics—his love for archery, your fondness for dancing, and even the odd rumours that floated around the palace. Laughter came easily between you, the weight of your circumstances momentarily forgotten.

"I think you'd be excellent at archery," he remarked thoughtfully.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing. "Me? With a bow and arrow? I'd probably end up shooting myself in the foot."

"I seriously doubt that," he teased. "But if you ever want to give it a try, I'd be more than happy to teach you."

"Perhaps one day," you replied with a soft smile, savouring the thought of a future where you might be free enough to take him up on the offer.

The hours passed unnoticed as you shared stories, thoughts, and dreams. The afternoon sun cast golden rays over the pavilion, and in his presence, you felt lighter—like you weren't just a pawn in a political marriage, but a person with your own desires.

You returned to your empty quarters that evening, but the silence and cold no longer bothered you. After the warmth and joy of the day spent with Yeosang, the loneliness felt distant, almost irrelevant. You were more than full, not just from the food but from the conversation and laughter shared under the cherry blossoms. The routine of solitude upon your return had become something you could bear, as long as your afternoons were filled with his presence.

The same pattern unfolded the next day and the entire week after that. Each morning, you would wake to the empty quarters, handle your own needs, and then make your way to the pavilion where he would be waiting. Together, you found comfort in each other's company. He was your first and only friend here, someone who understood your situation without having to ask too many questions. Over time, a mutual understanding and respect blossomed between you, both of you finding solace in these stolen moments.

You learned more about him each day, his quirks and passions, while he listened to your stories of Ruhon with genuine interest. The hours flew by in those afternoons, filled with the easy flow of conversation, laughter, and sometimes, comfortable silence. At this point, you had grown content with the way things were. If nothing changed, you thought you could be fine living like this forever. The thought of it made your heart flutter—an afternoon with the fourth prince, a quiet return to your quarters at night, and no pressure from the palace or your impending marriage to Prince Yeochan.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon one evening, casting golden light over the pavilion, Yeosang broke the comfortable quiet. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you back?" His voice held a note of longing, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you truly wanted.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart stir in a way you weren't ready to admit. "I'll be fine," you assured him, trying to steady your voice and the fluttering in your chest. "I'll see you tomorrow. Same place, same time."

He nodded, though his gaze lingered on you a moment longer. "Same place, same time," he repeated softly, his voice betraying the unspoken emotions that hung between you.

As you walked away, you could feel his eyes on you until you disappeared from view, your heart both aching and content at once. These moments with him had become your escape, a reprieve from the storm looming over your future.

For now, that was enough.

Your steps slowed to a crawl as you neared your quarters, a stark contrast to the usual emptiness. Tonight, the windows were brightly lit, and the servants were suddenly lined up like soldiers, just as they had been that fateful night. The last time this had happened, Prince Yeochan had come, drunk and unpredictable.

Dread twisted in your gut as you took in the scene, your heart pounding so hard you could hear the frantic rhythm in your ears. What was he going to do this time? Memories of that night came flooding back—his sharp words, his cold grip, the way he loomed over you as if daring you to resist. But you knew there was no escape. This was your fate. Whatever he wanted, you had no choice but to obey. It was your duty. The thought of it made your heart sink, heavy with the weight of powerlessness.

As you neared the entrance, your eyes landed on the palace maids standing by, their smug smiles and knowing looks making your stomach churn. They had seen this before and even enjoyed it. They were eager for your downfall, eagerly awaiting the moment you'd be humiliated, just like last time. Their bows were mocking, insincere, dripping with scorn.

"Welcome back, Your Highness. Oh dear, perhaps we should've given you a heads up," one of them sneered, her voice laced with false sweetness. "The ninth prince has come to visit."

Your throat tightened as the words registered. Yeochan was inside, waiting. You could already feel the walls closing in around you, suffocating you before you even stepped foot inside. The fear of what awaited you on the other side of that door made your legs feel like lead. But you forced yourself to move, to step forward, to face whatever punishment he had in store. Because you had no choice.

This was your life now.

And as you crossed the threshold, you wished—just for a fleeting moment—that you were back in the cherry blossom garden with Yeosang, where everything felt safe and warm. But that dream was far away now, and reality was waiting for you behind that door, cruel and unrelenting.

"There you are, princess," Yeochan's voice slithered through the room, low and deliberate, as you entered the chamber. Your eyes immediately dropped to the floor, your body instinctively bowing deeply before him.

"G-good evening, Your Highness," you whispered, your voice betraying the trembling fear coursing through you.

He eyed you up and down, his silence stretching uncomfortably before a smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't one of amusement but of something darker. "You seem well. A little too well for my liking. A week with no one to serve you, and yet here you are—more content than anything, out gallivanting every single day." He took a step forward, his words laced with accusation. "Care to tell me where you've been all day?"

You felt your hands clutch the fabric of your skirt, squeezing it so tightly you feared it might tear. Your heart raced, the walls closing in around you. "I-I…" The words caught in your throat, terror and shame making it impossible to answer. How could you possibly tell him the truth?

His smirk deepened, his gaze sharp as a blade. "The fourth prince must've been very good to you, hm?" His voice was dripping with venom. "What do you think would happen if word got out? That it wasn't enough he once tried to steal General Park's wife, but now he's after his younger brother's betrothed too?"

His words hit you like a cold slap, your blood running ice-cold as your knees gave way beneath you, sinking to the floor before him. You felt weak and powerless under his cruel, threatening gaze.

A dangerous laugh echoed through the chamber as he watched you crumble. "Perhaps then Father would finally take proper measures against him," he mused darkly, the amusement in his tone quickly vanishing. He turned, his expression hardening into a cold glare. "I've honestly had it with you. But then again, it's no surprise. Your kind would go out and whore around the first chance they get. And of all people, you had to embarrass me by choosing that degenerate?"

Tears welled in your eyes, fear gripping you tightly. While you might've anticipated his wrath, you couldn't allow him to drag the fourth prince into this, to ruin the only thing that had brought you solace in this foreign, suffocating life.

Not Yeosang—he didn't deserve that.

"I… We didn't do anything, Your Highness. We're just friends," you pleaded, the tears now spilling down your cheeks. "If you wish, I promise not to see him again. Just... leave His Highness alone."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Yeochan's smirk returned, more sinister than before. He knelt before you, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Really? Is that what you want?"

You nodded frantically, swallowing hard. "Yes... please."

His smirk widened. "That depends on your performance then, doesn't it? Don't let me down, princess."

The weight of his threat hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as he rose and walked past you, leaving you kneeling in the cold chamber, your tears staining the floor beneath you.

I'm so sorry, Prince Yeosang...

"Where is she?" the fourth prince murmured to himself, his gaze fixed on the steaming bowls of food slowly losing their warmth. The servants had prepared everything right on time, just as they had done every day for the past week. And every time, without fail, you arrived promptly, your face lighting up the moment you stepped into the garden. But today, there was no sign of you.

He tried to brush off his unease, telling himself there must be a simple explanation. Maybe you were running into trouble with your quarters, or maybe your attire or hair was taking longer than usual. Yeosang's mind flickered to the oversized shoes you'd been given, his brow furrowing. He'd reminded you to ask for better-fitted ones, hadn't he? What if you'd tripped because of them? The thought made him chuckle lightly, trying to dispel the growing knot of concern in his chest. No need to overthink it, he thought.

Maybe she overslept.

The image of you with tousled hair and sleepy eyes brought a smile to his face, one that lingered a little too long. Slowly, realisation dawned on him. Do friends think of each other this way...? he wondered. Since the day you two had become close, he found that thoughts of you followed him everywhere. Even when he wasn't with you, his mind strayed back to your laughter, the way you spoke about Ruhon with such fondness, the light in your eyes when you teased him about Joseon. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you.

But now, as he stared at the empty seat across from him and the bowl of stew cooling in front of it, his thoughts shifted from fondness to worry. You'd never been late before. Where were you?

The prince's fingers drummed anxiously against the wooden table. As the minutes stretched on, the gnawing feeling in his stomach grew worse. What if something had happened to you?

No, don't overthink it, he told himself again, trying to keep calm. But with each passing moment, his composure faltered, his mind conjuring all sorts of possibilities. You were alone in this unfamiliar palace, with no allies but him. He knew what kind of dangers lurked in the shadows, especially for someone as isolated as you.

He stood up abruptly, unable to shake the dread that was slowly taking hold of him. He had to find you. Whatever had delayed you, he couldn't just sit there, waiting.

"Please be okay, princess..." he muttered under his breath, his heart clenching at the thought of something being wrong. He grabbed his cloak, striding purposefully out of the pavilion. He wouldn't rest until he knew you were safe.

His feet led him instinctively to your quarters, a place he'd never seen but had always pictured to be grand and befitting of your status. Yet, as he slowed his steps and approached the area, his brows furrowed in disbelief. The quarters before him were anything but grand. They were one of the more neglected chambers in the palace, the kind usually reserved for lesser guests, not for someone soon to become the Ninth Princess of Joseon.

This... can't be right, he thought, his gaze hardening as he took in the sight. The King and Queen never would have agreed to this if they knew. Who had placed you here? His mind immediately turned to the only person capable of such pettiness—his brother.

His jaw clenched at the thought, but before he could mull over it further, the palace maids stationed at the entrance of your chambers bowed deeply.

"These servants greet Your Highness," they said in unison.

He nodded in acknowledgement, but when he tried to take a step forward, they subtly moved to block his path.

"Deepest apologies, Prince Yeosang," one of them said, her tone laced with formality, "but Her Highness the princess wishes not to see anyone today."

His status as your future brother-in-law, rather than a direct family member or fiancé, dawned on him. It would be inappropriate for him to insist on seeing you, no matter how much he wanted to make sure you were alright. Still, concern gnawed at him, and he couldn't help but ask, "Is she okay?"

The maid closest to him bit down on a smirk, as if sharing an inside joke with herself. "Yes, Your Highness. Why do you ask? The ninth prince was just here last night. He left after ensuring she was fine."

His heart sank. Yeochan was here? His mind raced. Did he find out about our meetings? Knowing his brother's volatile pride, it wouldn't have been surprising if he had lashed out. The thought of Yeochan taking his anger out on you made his chest tighten.

He cleared his throat, trying to mask his unease. "O-oh, I see... I was just uhh... hoping to meet the princess for another study session," he said, forcing a smile.

The maid bowed again, her gesture more dismissive this time. "Perhaps another time, Prince Yeosang."

He blinked, feeling the sting of rejection but knowing there was little he could do at this moment. He took a step back, his heart heavy. "Perhaps..." he echoed softly.

With a final nod, the fourth prince turned and walked away, his mind filled with worry. His thoughts circled back to you—your absence today, the state of your quarters, and the lingering fear that something was terribly wrong. He had to find a way to see you, to make sure you were safe.

Wait for me, princess.

"Congratulations, Your Highness. Since you've been good, Prince Yeochan is rewarding you with dinner tonight. Enjoy," one of the maids said, her tone dripping with insincerity as she and the others stepped into your room. They carried trays with the same paltry rice and side dishes they had served you since your first day here. But despite the meagre meal, your empty stomach didn't care. After being starved all day, anything edible seemed like a feast.

Scrambling over to the dining table, you thanked them softly, even though they didn't deserve it. You sat down quickly, hands trembling as you began to eat, the food filling the gnawing ache inside you. But the relief was short-lived. You paused mid-bite when you noticed the smug expressions plastered on the maids' faces. Something was coming, and you dreaded it.

You wiped your mouth with shaky fingers and whispered, "Y-you may go."

One of the maids let out a sarcastic coo. "Oh, but princess, don't you want to hear all about the fourth prince's surprise appearance today? He came all this way to see you."

Your body froze, the warmth of the food in your stomach doing nothing to quell the sudden chill that overtook you. Yeosang was here...? The realisation hit you like a blow, and your heart clenched. You tightened your grip on the utensils, willing your hands to stop shaking.

"If we didn't know any better, we'd think he was your lover... but you wouldn't do that to your betrothed now, would you?" another maid added with a wicked smirk. Her words cut through you like a knife, but you dared not look up, staring at your food with tears welling in your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to force them away.

"N-no..." you choked out, barely above a whisper. "I wouldn't."

"That's what I thought," the leader of the group sneered. "After all, what would people say if they knew? The ninth prince would be furious, don't you think?"

You kept your gaze locked on the table, your chest tightening as they circled around you like vultures, feeding off your discomfort.

Finally, with a mocking bow, they left the room, closing the door behind them with a soft click. The moment they were gone, your head dropped into your hands, the weight of their words pressing down on you. The food sat heavy in your stomach now, each bite you had taken feeling like a betrayal.

Yeosang had come to see you, and you weren't there. You could only imagine how worried he must have been, wondering why you hadn't shown up today. And now, all you could think about was the thinly veiled threat in the maids' words.

Tears finally escaped, sliding down your cheeks as you sat in the silence of your room. You hadn't done anything wrong, but somehow, everything felt wrong—like you were trapped in a cage with no way out.

Lying in bed, Yeosang couldn't sleep. His thoughts kept drifting back to you—how you'd smile, your voice when you spoke about the things you loved, the way your eyes lit up over the simplest things, like a plate of sweets. He thought he understood love when he'd pined for Lady Park, but this... this was different. The weight in his chest was heavier, the ache more painful. With the general's wife, there was always distance, a barrier he could never cross. But with you, everything felt natural—like the world aligned whenever you were near.

He tossed and turned, trying to push the thoughts away, but they wouldn't leave him. His heart was breaking all over again, only this time it felt worse, deeper than before. He had waited for you at the pavilion every day, hoping that maybe you'd just been delayed the first time. But as the days passed and you never showed up again, the hope he clung to slowly withered. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

Each day, he'd pass by your quarters, but the doors remained tightly shut, without a single sign of life behind them. He thought of knocking, but the way the palace maids had treated him before made it clear he wasn't welcome. His mind raced with questions: What happened to you? Were you okay? Were you eating? Were you sleeping soundly, or were you struggling, just like him?

The thoughts gnawed at him, and finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Throwing off the blankets, he pushed himself out of bed. He needed air, something to clear his mind from the torture of endless questions. He slipped on his outer robe and quietly made his way out of his chambers, the palace eerily silent in the late hours of the night.

His feet led him on a path of their own, and before he realised it, he found himself in the garden that faced the small pond where the two of you had sat together on the night of the banquet. The memories hit him with such force that he had to stop and catch his breath. You had looked so beautiful that night, the soft glow of the lanterns reflecting in your eyes. It had been a fleeting moment, but it had meant so much to him. He was sure it had meant something to you too.

To his surprise, the lanterns were still there, hanging gently in the night breeze. They were the same ones from that night. Perhaps they'd been left up because of the upcoming royal wedding, a reminder of what was supposed to be a grand celebration.

The fourth prince stood there, staring at the pond, the reflections of the lanterns dancing across the water. He remembered how you'd sat beside him, how close you'd been, how easily the conversation had flowed between you. And now, you were gone. Not physically, but... gone from his life in a way that made him feel lost, like a part of himself had disappeared too.

A sharp pain gripped his chest. Was this love? If it was, it felt like too much to bear. He had thought losing Lady Park was painful, but this was different. The weight of it felt unbearable, like he was being crushed under the possibility that he might never see you again.

His thoughts were interrupted when his ears caught the faint sound of someone crying. He froze, his breath hitching as the soft sobs pierced the quiet night. For a moment, he dismissed it as nothing more than the echoes of sorrow often heard within the palace walls. The palace staff loved to whisper of haunted spirits—the restless souls of those who had taken their own lives, trapped within the suffocating confines of court life. Such tales were frequent, and he knew better than to believe them.

Still, the sound unnerved him, not because of any fear of ghosts, but because it reminded him of the very real torment experienced by so many who lived under the weight of the royal family's rules. Perhaps it was just another of the King's properties—a concubine or a servant—mourning their fate. With a sigh, he prepared to leave, thinking it would be better to search for peace elsewhere. But something caught his eye.

A flash of lavender fabric peeked from behind a nearby tree, illuminated faintly by the lanterns. Yeosang's heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening. Lavender... the exact colour you'd worn the first time he met you. It could be a coincidence—anyone could wear such a colour—but the hope blooming in his chest was undeniable.

What if it was you?

He couldn't just walk away. Not now.

With careful, deliberate steps, the fourth prince approached the trembling figure behind the tree. His breath was shallow, his nerves on edge, as the soft weeping grew clearer with every step. The closer he got, the more his heart ached. The sight before him was enough to tear him apart.

It was you.

You were curled up against the rough bark of the tree, your knees drawn to your chest, hands clutching the edges of the lavender hanbok tightly. Your body shook with silent sobs, the sound so fragile that it made Yeosang's chest tighten painfully. He could barely stand seeing you like this—so vulnerable, so broken.

For a moment, he hesitated. He wasn't sure if you'd want to see him right now, especially in this state. But he couldn't just leave you like this. Not after days of wondering if you were alright, not after the constant worry that something had happened to you. Seeing you now, alone in the dark, crying as if the world had crushed you... it was unbearable.

"Princess..." he whispered softly, his voice gentle as if speaking too loudly might shatter you completely.

You flinched at the sound of his familiar deep voice, your head snapping up in surprise. When your tear-streaked eyes met his, a flood of emotions passed between you. Shock, fear, relief... and something else. Something deeper that neither of you dared to voice aloud.

"Yeosang..." you breathed, your voice weak and trembling, barely above a whisper.

Without thinking, he knelt down beside you, his eyes full of concern. "What happened? Why are you out here like this? I've been so worried... Where have you been?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in your throat. Tears streamed down your face again as you struggled to find the strength to answer. You were supposed to be stronger than this, to hold everything together, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the fear, the loneliness—was too much.

His heart broke all over again, seeing you like this. He reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and comforting. "It's okay," he whispered. "You don't have to say anything. Just... let me stay with you, alright?"

For a long moment, you simply stared at him, the warmth of his presence slowly easing the tight grip of despair around your heart. Then, as if you couldn't hold it in any longer, you nodded, and he gently pulled you into his arms. You collapsed against him, your sobs muffled against his chest. He held you tightly, cradling you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn't feel so alone.

As your sobs began to fade and your breathing steadied, a heavy silence settled between the two of you. But even as the tears stopped, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away from him. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, grounding you in a way you hadn't felt in so long. You kept your eyes closed, pressing closer to him, feeling his steady heartbeat against your cheek. His scent—earthy and soothing—wrapped around you like a protective barrier from the world outside. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt safe.

You didn't want to move. You didn't want to leave his arms, leave the calm that came with being next to someone who actually cared. The reality of your life—your engagement to the ninth prince, the cruelty of the palace, the loneliness—seemed so far away when you were here, in this quiet moment with Yeosang.

Letting out a shaky breath, your fingers tightened around the fabric of his robe, clutching onto him like he was your lifeline. And in a way, he was. You whispered, your voice raw and barely audible, "I-I can't do this anymore... wh-why couldn't it have been you, Yeo?"

For a moment, he stilled. Your words hung in the air between you, and he wondered if he had imagined them, if they were just the desperate hope of his own heart. But when you pressed closer to him, trembling slightly as if you'd just revealed your deepest secret, he knew it was real.

He closed his eyes, tightening his hold on you, his arms wrapping more securely around your body. Gently, he pressed your head into the crook of his neck, holding you as though he could shield you from all the pain, all the heartache you had endured. He didn't say anything at first—he was too overwhelmed by the surge of emotions in his chest. Relief, sorrow, love... it all mingled together in a way that left him breathless.

And then, softly, he whispered into your hair, his voice hoarse with emotion, "I... I wish it could have been me too."

His confession was quiet, but it carried the weight of all the feelings he'd been holding back. For the first time, he allowed himself to admit it—to say aloud what he'd only been able to think. He had fallen in love with you. It wasn't just a passing infatuation or the admiration of a friend. It was love, deep and consuming, the kind that made it impossible to imagine his life without you in it.

"I... I'll make it better," his voice wavered, his grip tightening around you as if he was afraid to let go. "I'll take you away from all of this. I hate seeing you like this... suffering. You deserve so much more."

His words lingered in your mind, and fresh tears welled in your eyes—this time not from fear or sadness, but from a deep longing for a life that seemed impossible. "But how?" you whispered, your voice cracking. "The ninth prince... h-he's—"

At the mention of his brother, the fourth prince tensed, barely holding back the surge of anger that threatened to overwhelm him. He continued stroking your hair gently, his touch grounding you both. "Tell me," he said, his tone firm but soft, "everything he's done to you."

Fear flickered in your eyes, and you shook your head slightly. "B-but—"

"It's okay," he reassured you, his voice steady and full of conviction. "I'll protect you. You have my word, princess."

"Father, I have come to report wrongdoing," the fourth prince's voice rang out clearly across the throne room. His heart pounded in his chest, but his resolve never faltered. He had waited too long for this moment, and he wouldn't waste it. The King, seated on his grand throne, raised a surprised brow. His fourth son had never shown much interest in palace affairs before.

"Yes, my son. What is it?" he asked, his voice weary with expectation.

Yeosang took a deep breath, steeling himself. "It's Ninth Prince Yeochan. He has been mistreating his fiancée."

The elderly man sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as if this were a minor inconvenience. "Prince Yeosang, you know there are far more pressing matters in this kingdom than marital squabbles."

The prince's nostrils flared, his temper threatening to boil over. "Listen to me, Father! For once in your life, listen to me. You haven't heard a word I've said for the past 25 years, and I've had enough of it!"

The sharpness of his words silenced the king. He straightened in his seat, eyes narrowing as he studied his son.

Yeosang pressed on, desperation clinging to every syllable. "The princess... she's living in misery. Do you even know where your 'beloved' ninth son has placed her? She's not in some luxurious chamber—he's hidden her away in a miserable room like she's less than a servant! Did you know he's been denying her basic needs to manipulate her into submission? Have you any idea what he's—"

The King closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Marriages aren't all sunshine and rainbows. Especially not arranged ones. You're young, and I understand you're friends with the princess, but you also know how girls can exaggerate things. She'll be fine. They will work it out in time. You must see that this is all for the greater good of our nation."

His Highness clenched his fists tightly, the urge to shout rising within him. He had expected resistance, but this blatant dismissal enraged him. "Don't invalidate her feelings like that, Your Majesty... you just don't get it, do you?"

The ruler's gaze hardened. "What don't I get, Fourth Prince?"

Yeosang let out a bitter laugh, his voice dripping with frustration and scorn. "That you are part of the problem. How can you expect this kingdom to flourish when you don't even care about what happens within your own palace walls? What kind of king turns a blind eye to the suffering of his own people? To a foreign princess, no less, one who was supposed to be under our protection?" His eyes blazed with fury. "You always talk about the greater good, but it's never been about the people, has it? It's about your power. You think the end justifies the means, no matter who gets crushed along the way. What kind of noble king does that make you? Or should I say... what kind of useless king?"

The air in the throne room grew thick with tension, his words hanging heavy between them like an unsheathed blade.

Despite his initial irritation at the prince's boldness, His Majesty felt a surge of pride. Yeosang's passionate defence of the foreign princess was a clear sign of his growth and potential as a future ruler. His newfound affection and protectiveness toward you were a stark contrast to his past obsession with Lady Park. It was clear that he had finally moved on from the general's wife and was now focused on something—someone he truly loved.

Yet, the King also felt a pang of disappointment. Entrusting you to Prince Yeochan had been a grave mistake, and the realisation that you had suffered under his treatment made the ruler question his past decisions. He clasped his hands together, mulling over his son's words.

"Fair enough. What do you suggest I do then, Fourth Prince?" The elderly man's voice held a rare note of invitation, allowing Yeosang to propose a solution.

His Highness straightened, his resolve clear. "I understand how vital it is to maintain our relations with Ruhon. I'm not suggesting we break the peace treaty over the ninth prince's actions. Instead, I propose we reconsider the current arrangements."

The King almost smiled, entertained by his son's careful diplomacy. "Alright, so what then? Who else would the princess marry?"

The fourth prince's gaze didn't waver as he replied, "I put myself forward as a candidate. I'm confident I can give her the respect and care she deserves."

His Majesty chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Really? And does she agree with this arrangement?"

"Yes, she—" Yeosang froze for a moment, realising he'd revealed more than intended. But after a brief hesitation, he nodded.

The King's expression softened, his earlier irritation dissolving. "You're right, my son. If the princess' happiness is important for the stability of our nations, we must ensure she is well cared for."

Yeosang nodded, gratitude flooding through him as relief settled in. The King sighed, a glimmer of satisfaction lightening his burden.

"As for the ninth prince... I'll make sure he understands the consequences of his actions," the elderly man said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

The fourth prince's heart swelled with hope and determination. This was more than he had dared to wish for, and he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead—with you by his side.

His Majesty's smile slightly faltered as he watched the visible relief wash over his son. A heaviness settled in his chest. "But my son," he began, his voice quieter, more measured, "you have to prepare yourself for the potential talk that will spread about you... and the princess. This isn't going to be an easy or smooth process."

Yeosang met his father's gaze, his expression unwavering. "I understand, Father."

The ruler sighed, the weight of what was to come settling on him. He knew the whispers in the court would be brutal, the rumours relentless. The nobility had a way of twisting any situation, and there would undoubtedly be those who questioned the sudden change in marriage arrangements. There might be talk of favouritism or worse—of scandal.

But before he could voice more concerns, Yeosang's calm words broke the silence, further tugging at his father's heart. "Don’t worry, Father. It's nothing I'm not already used to. I've endured rumours and whispers all my life..." He paused, his expression hardening with determination. "But I won't let them touch her. I'll protect her, and I won't let anyone disrespect her again."

The King felt a surge of pride and sadness all at once. His son had indeed grown beyond what he'd expected, but the fact that he had carried so much weight for so long without ever seeking his father's help broke his heart. The King realised how much he had missed over the years, how distant he had allowed their relationship to become.

"You're a good man, Yeosang," the King said softly, his voice laced with both admiration and regret. "I wish I'd seen it sooner."

His Highness gave a small nod, his resolve as strong as ever, though the lingering pain in his eyes was unmistakable. "I'll do right by her, Father. That's all that matters now."

The King intertwined his fingers, watching his son with a mixture of pride and sorrow. The future of their kingdom—and the princess' happiness—now rested on this new path. He only hoped it would lead to a brighter future for both his son and the Ruhon princess.

"Wh-what are you doing here, Yeo? The ninth prince, he'll—" Your voice trembled with panic as you glanced nervously toward the door. But Yeosang only shook his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you into his embrace.

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His touch was warm and steady, a silent reassurance. "He won't be able to come near you again. I promise."

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and a group of palace staff entered. Their uniforms were pristine, and their faces composed, unfamiliar to you. Bowing deeply, they addressed both of you.

"These servants greet Fourth Prince Yeosang and Princess Sarisu. We have come to move the princess to her new chambers."

Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked up at Yeosang. "N-new chambers?"

One of the court ladies, an older woman with a warm smile, nodded eagerly. "Yes, Your Highness. Congratulations on your engagement! May the future Fourth Princess of Joseon live a thousand years!"

"F-fourth Princess...?" You stared in shock, barely able to process the words. Engagement? New chambers? The past few weeks of torment and isolation suddenly felt like a distant memory, replaced by this surreal moment of freedom. Yeosang grinned softly down at you, the light in his eyes unmistakable.

He nodded to the servants, giving them permission to start packing your belongings. Then, leaning down, he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I told you I'd take care of it, my soon-to-be wife."

The words sent a shiver through you, but this time it wasn't from fear or anxiety. It was a mix of disbelief and relief. Your heart raced as the palace staff began gathering your things, their movements efficient and respectful—a stark contrast to the way you had been treated before.

The rest of the day felt like a dream, as if the heavy weight that had been suffocating you for so long had finally lifted. You followed your new fiancé out of the quarters you had been forced to call home, stepping into the sunlight for the first time in what felt like forever.

Your gaze drifted, and that's when you saw him—Prince Yeochan. He stood several paces away, his face pale with disbelief as royal guards surrounded him and his servants. Officer Song led the group with his characteristic sternness, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

You overheard snippets of conversation, catching the words "interrogation" and "treatment of the princess." Your heart quickened. In Joseon, interrogations weren't handled lightly, especially when they involved royalty. You knew for a fact that the ninth prince and his servants were in for a rough time.

Yeosang's hand slid into yours, grounding you in the moment. His touch was steady, his presence comforting. He glanced at you with a soft smile, his eyes filled with quiet determination. "You’re safe now," he whispered.

As you walked away from the quarters, leaving the past behind, you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for the man beside you—the man who had promised to protect you and had kept that promise.

Thank you, my prince.

The following week felt like a fantasy you had never imagined could come true. Every moment with the fourth prince was filled with joy, love, and a sense of belonging you had never experienced before. He moved you to a chamber near his, ensuring you were never far from him. Every morning, he would come over, smiling warmly as he shared meals with you, and afterwards, he'd whisk you away to different spots in the palace, if you were not bonding with the Queen. There was always something new to show you, some hidden garden or scenic view you had never seen before.

On one of those magical days, Yeosang had even summoned a renowned dressmaker from outside the palace. Dressmaker Kim, known for his exquisite designs, came to you with endless fabrics and ideas, eager to create a new batch of hanboks that reflected your personal taste and style. Your fiancé had insisted that you not be restricted to the simple garments the palace provided. You deserved something beautiful, something uniquely you.

One sunny afternoon, as you stood together in the palace gardens, gazing at the cherry blossoms in full bloom, his arms wrapped around you from behind. His embrace was gentle but firm, the warmth of his body making you feel safe and loved.

"Our wedding's in a week, can you believe it?" he whispered softly against your ear.

You smiled, your heart fluttering at the thought. "I know, it feels like a dream."

He pressed his lips softly to your cheek, and you leaned into him, basking in the tenderness of the moment. "Is there anything else you want, my princess?" he asked, his voice low and full of affection.

Turning to face him, you cupped his face in your hands, your heart swelling with gratitude. "Enough, Yeo. You've given me more than enough for the past week."

But he shook his head, his gaze softening as he leaned in, resting his forehead gently against yours. "Not nearly enough," he murmured. "I do have one final surprise for you before the big day."

You frowned slightly, about to protest, but before you could speak, he silenced you with a kiss. It was tender, loving, and left you completely dazed. When he pulled away, his lips brushed lightly against yours, leaving you breathless.

"Don't reject me just yet," he whispered, his voice teasing but full of affection. "Go have a look and tell me how you like it. The surprise is waiting for you in your room."

Curiosity sparked within you, and though you tried to suppress it, excitement bloomed in your chest. What could he possibly have prepared now? You smiled up at him, already feeling that whatever it was, it would be another unforgettable moment.

And unforgettable it was.

He trailed behind your excited steps, heart swelling with anticipation as he followed you to your chambers. He stopped just outside, giving you enough privacy while still keeping the doors open. His eyes never left you as you entered the room, eager to see your reaction.

The moment you stepped inside, you froze in place. Your breath caught, and your vision blurred with tears before a sob escaped your lips. You couldn't believe what—no, who—was waiting for you.

"M-mother…" you choked, your voice thick with emotion.

Without hesitation, you rushed forward, falling into her arms. The warmth and familiarity of her embrace washed over you, the scent of home bringing back memories of a time when you felt safe. She held you tightly, her hand stroking your hair as you trembled in her embrace.

"I'm here now, my dear," your mother whispered, her own voice shaking with emotion. She sniffled, pressing her nose into your hair, her tears mingling with yours. "All thanks to my good son-in-law."

Her words broke through the haze of your emotions, and you glanced back toward the door. Your soon-to-be husband stood there, watching you from outside with a soft, tearful smile. He didn't step inside, allowing you this moment with your mother, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He had made this reunion possible. He had brought your family back to you.

Your mother's tearful smile reached Yeosang, and he dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. The silent gratitude exchanged between them warmed your heart even more.

A year ago, if anyone had told Yeosang he would find love, happiness, and purpose, he would've laughed bitterly, dismissing it as nothing more than a foolish dream. For so long, he had drifted through life, lost in the cold shadows of the palace, burdened by duty and the emptiness it brought. He had watched others find joy and love, believing it was something forever beyond his reach. But now, standing there, watching you fall into your mother's arms, he felt a wave of clarity wash over him. He's been wandering this earth alone, feeling lost for what seemed like an eternity...

Until I found you, my princess.

Aaaand, it's a wrap! God, I sincerely hope this was decent HAHA this ended up so much longer and darker than initially planned but oh well, it is what it is. I might consider doing one last bonus chapter for TWTHH, but we'll see~ you know what they say, there will only be supply if there's a demand🌚

If you've made it this far, thank you so very much for reading and staying with me throughout this entire journey! I look forward to hearing all your thoughts on the spinoff and this series! Which member's spinoff was your favourite and why? Let me know! <3

Tag list (1/11):

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |

@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |

@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

@vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho |

@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |

@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |

@chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories |

@anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @dollce-exe @jan-l |

@lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim |

@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |

@ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 |

@naps-over-degree @brown88 @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @skittyneos |

@chickenscoups

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[canirove]

Kenan Yildiz Imagine

Author’s note: I said to myself that I wasn't going to write for anyone younger than Pedri, but I liked this request I got on Wattpad because I myself got a wisdom tooth removed this summer, and even though I've never heard of this player before, my youngest cousin follows him on Instagram and I said to myself, he can't be that bad 😅 So... yeah. Something hopefully cute where I've written a bit about my own experience getting a wisdown tooth removed, but with the addition of a cute guy taking care of the reader 😁 Hope you like it and thank you for reading! 💜

Masterlist

“There you are” Kenan smiles as I leave the dentist’s office. “How are you feeling? Are you ok? They took their time, didn't they? I know it was just a wisdom tooth and that it was in a weird position, but I hope nothing bad happened, because I've read some things and… What are you doing?” he asks me as I move my hand in the air. “I don't understand. Are you ok? Are you in pain? Fainting? Should I call someone for help?”

“Bloody hell” I say to myself while rolling my eyes and trying to snatch my bag from his arm.

“Oh, you wanted this! Sorry, babe” he chuckles as I take it and struggle to open it with one hand, the other holding an ice pack to my face. “Here, let me help you” he says, finally doing something useful and opening my bag for me while I get my phone and start typing. “I can't talk yet. And don't call me babe” he reads when I show him what I typed. “Oh, sorry. Are we allowed to go home? Cool” Kenan says when I nod. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“So…” Kenan says once we make it to my place and I let myself fall on the sofa. “What can I do for you? More ice?”

“Here” I whisper, giving him the list with all the things my dentist suggested. 

“Lots of ice to avoid swelling and bruising, eat ice cream, ice lollies, and nothing hot, just soft foods, a bunch of medicines… Ok. Can I leave you alone for a bit while I go buy it all or would you prefer it if I stayed and gave you some cuddles?” he says, kneeling next to me and gently caressing my head when I lay down. 

“You can go. I think I'm gonna take a nap” I whisper again, barely able to open my mouth.

“Perfect. I'll be as fast as I can, ok?”

“Maybe not too fast. I don't want you having an accident or something.”

“Just a bit quick, then” he smiles, kissing my forehead and leaving. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Honey, I'm home! Shit, maybe I shouldn't have been so loud, you said you were going to take a nap and… Oh my God, babe. What happened? Why are you crying?” Kenan says, throwing away the bags he was carrying and running towards me.

“It hurts” I sob, sitting up. “It hurts so much.”

“Urgh, I'm so sorry” he says before hugging me. “I should have been back earlier, but there were so many people everywhere, both in the shops and on the road…”

“My medicine?”

“I got it, don't worry. Why don't I make you something to eat so you can take it, uh?”

“Please. I'm starving.”

“Ok” he smiles.

“Kenan!” I yell when he touches my cheek. “That hurts!”

“Sorry, I'm sorry” he apologizes. “I didn't realise and… I'm sorry.”

“Now it is even worse because I hurt myself when I yelled at you!” I cry. 

“I'm so so sorry. I'm an idiot.”

“Yes, you are!”

“I'm sorry” he says once again. “I'm gonna make you something to eat, ok? Something soft and cold. A sandwich, perhaps?”

“Ok” I nod, laying down again and curling myself into a ball, the pain being almost unbearable since besides feeling it all over my mouth, it has moved up to my ear for whatever the reason.

“Your lunch, my lady” Kenan says, joining me again on the sofa a few minutes later. “A sandwich made with the softest bread, jam and cheese. Do you want me to cut it for you so it is easier to eat?”

“Please” I whisper, sitting up again.

“I've also brought you some cold water to drink. It may feel nice.”

“Thank you” I say, trying to smile. But even that hurts. “Oh, c'mon!”

“What happened?”

“I can't drink” I say, looking down at my wet t-shirt and starting to cry again. 

“It is just water, babe. It's ok” he says, wiping away my tears and cleaning my chin with a napkin. “Here, have a bite.”

“Thank you” I sob. 

“What happened now? Is it because I called you babe?” Kenan asks me when I start crying again. “I'm sorry, I know you don't like it, but…”

“Chewing hurts!”

“Ok, umm… Do you want some ice cream instead?”

“What ice cream did you buy?”

“Your favourite, of course” he smiles. “Stracciatella.”

“I can't eat that, Kenan! It has bits of chocolate!”

“Oh, shit. That's true. I… I'm so sorry. I…”

“This is the worst thing ever!” I cry, laying down again. “I'm useless!”

“Hey, no. You are the strongest person I know. You can and will survive this, you hear me?”

“I won't” I whisper.

“You will” he says, getting up from the sofa and leaving me alone while I just cry. Though while I do it, I can hear him talking to himself on the kitchen, opening and closing drawers and the fridge a few times. “Ok, let's try this.”

“What?” I say, wiping away my tears and looking at him as he sits down again.

“Yogurt. You don't have to chew it and it is soft and cold. It is perfect! Now, open your mouth.”

“Are you seriously going to feed me as if I was a baby?”

“Well, you are my baby even if you hate it when I call you babe” he smirks.

“Idiot” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“C'mon, let's start just with a tiny bit” Kenan says.

“Fine” I sigh, opening my mouth as much as I can without hurting myself too much.

“And?”

“It's ok.”

“Another one?”

“We are gonna be here until tomorrow if you plan on making me eat all of that like this.”

“I don't have anything else to do, so” he shrugs, giving me another tiny spoonful. “Besides, even if I did, there is nothing more important than taking care of you.”

“Aww, Kenan… If pouting didn't hurt, I would give you a kiss.”

“We'll save it for when you can, then” he winks. “C'mon. Eat this so you can take your pills and sleep for a bit.”

“Ok. I love you, you know?”

“I know. I love you too” he smiles.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Oh my God!” 

“What? What happened? Please tell me your teeth aren't falling off” Kenan says, walking into the bathroom.

“What?” 

“It can happen, you know? I saw this Tiktok and…”

“It can't. Don't believe everything you read or see online, especially on Tiktok. And why are you covering your eyes?”

“In case there is blood. You know I struggle with that.”

“There is no blood” I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror. “Though since I look like a monster, maybe you should keep your eyes covered.”

“A monster? What do you mean?”

“Look” I say, turning around. “I look like Yennefer before she became pretty.”

“What?” Kenan chuckles.

“Look!” I say again, pointing at my cheek. “My face is so swollen and bruised that it is as if I've grown another chin or something!”

“Yesterday you got a wisdom tooth removed, babe. That is normal, the dentist said it.”

“This isn't normal. I look so horrible” I say, starting to cry again.

“You could never look horrible” he says, closing the space between us and hugging me. “Ever, you hear me? And this will go away in a couple of days and you'll be back to being Yennefer the hot witch.”

“You know who she is?”

“I've watched “The Witcher” too” he shrugs. “And the only thing that matters now is that you properly recover and aren't in pain. And maybe that your teeth don't fall off.”

“What… Idiot” I say again, rolling my eyes when I see him smirking.

“How are you feeling?” he says, moving to look at me and gently caressing my other cheek, the one that doesn't look like… like whatever the other does.

“A bit sore, but it isn't as bad as yesterday.”

“Good” he smiles, wiping away some of my tears. “So, what do you want to have for breakfast? I thought I could smash some fruit and mix it with the yogurt. Or maybe try with an omelette? I texted my mum yesterday while you were sleeping and she gave some ideas.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah” he says with a shy smile. “I want to take care of you, help you feel better and recover. So I may or may have not spent the day doing research.”

“And watching stupid Tiktoks that make you believe my teeth are going to fall off.”

“That too” he chuckles. “Anyway, what does the lady want for her breakfast?”

“Let's try the omelette. I'm tired of eating like a baby.”

“Ok” he smiles. “And stop saying you look like a monster, because you don't, you hear me? You don't.”

“I don't” I sigh. 

“C'mon” he says, kissing my nose and taking my hand on his before we leave the bathroom. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“It's gone!” 

“What?” Kenan yawns.

“The bruise! The swelling! It's all gone, look!” I say, turning on the light.

“Too bright!” he complains, covering his face.

“Kenan, look!”

“Urgh” he says, slowly opening his eyes. “You look as beautiful as you always do.”

“I didn't look beautiful last week and you know it” I say, hitting his arm.

“To me you did” he smiles. “But see how I was right and you just needed to be patient?”

“Yeah… Sorry.”

“It's ok” he says, sitting up in the bed and caressing my cheek. “I've missed doing this and not seeing you wince because it hurts.”

“Same” I smile.

“And it also is nice to not feel my hand getting frozen as I hold an ice pack to it to help you.”

“Next time you get injured I'll do it for you, I promise.”

“Or you could get into an ice bath with me” he smirks.

“Umm… no.”

“Ok” he laughs. “Should we go make us some breakfast?”

“I'll do it. Let it be my thank you for being the best boyfriend ever and taking care of me these days. And for dealing with my changes of mood too.”

“Any time. I love you… babe” he smirks, making me roll my eyes.

“I love you too” I reply, not being able to hide my smile before kissing him. 

[emmyspov]

Coming home (Haldir x reader)

author's note: i finished this while eating breakfast this morning - can you tell i'm sad and touch starved?? this is totally self-indulgent, i love him :( haldir brushes through reader's hair, otherwise no descriptions of looks. please reblog this if you like it and let me know if you want to be tagged in the future <3 english (still) isn’t my first language. also, please don't copy my work :)

warnings: nothing i'm aware of, just domestic fluff :)

word count: 0.9k

edit is my own :)

Haldir opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He just came home from a long and exhausting meeting with Lady Galadriel, but when he noticed the sweet smell of baked goods and spotted you asleep in your shared bed, clothed in one of his night gowns, his heart felt light again.

He knew you were waiting for him to return by the lit candle on your bedside drawer and the open book next to you and for only a second, an overwhelming amount of love knocked the air out of his lungs.

You looked absolutely ethereal. You always did, but seeing you dressed in his clothes in your shared home did something to the elf. The way you trusted him with your life and how you loved him endlessly made him emotional.

"What have you done to me, my love", he murmured and stepped closer to you. "You own my heart."

After getting ready for bed himself, the ellon carefully laid down next to you, trying not to wake you - but no luck.

"Haldir?" You turned around to your husband, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Shh. Sleep, meleth. You work so much", Haldir spoke quietly and cupped your cheek with his hand.

You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes again to really relish in the gentle contact.

"Look at yourself, marchwarden", you murmured and sighed softly. "You're gone for months and I know you don't get enough rest during your patrols. And when you come home, you take care of me. I admire your protectiveness, but you have to look after yourself, too."

Your husband's hand wandered from your cheek to the side of your head, carefully brushing through your hair before it settled on the small of your back, pulling you close to him.

"For me, looking after myself means being here, at home, with you. You bring me endless happiness, my love."

You let your head fall onto his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Gi melin."

At your words, Haldir pulled you even closer into his side if that was even still possible and pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there.

"You're too good to me", you whispered, but the elf shook his head.

"You deserve everything, meleth. And one day, I'll figure out how to give it to you."

It was your turn to shake your head before you kissed his jaw. "You are everything I could ever want, ever need. Your presence alone eases my hard days and makes my good ones better. I know my heart is safe with you."

Haldir was at a loss for words. He never thought someone would come along who'd see more in him than a marchwarden and yet here you were, looking at him as if he himself had put the stars in the sky.

Still, he didn't know what to say to you. He was never good with romantic speeches and he despised it. You deserved to be wooed with words, too.

So instead, he cupped your face in his hands and leaned down to press his lips against yours.

What he didn't realise was that you weren't waiting for a big love confession. Your husband has always been someone who showed his love through actions - just like he was doing now.

"Hal", you mumbled and fisted his gown to ground yourself. How he was able to make you weak in the knees with a simple kiss was beyond your understanding - not that you cared. All sorts of physical contact with Haldir felt like coming home.

He smiled at your flushed cheeks after you parted and let his thumb brush over your jawline.

"What did you bake earlier", he asked and you needed a second to register his question.

"Oh", you answered, "Rúmil and Orophin came over earlier and asked if the four of us wanted to have a picnic together tomorrow afternoon if you're free. I thought that's a wonderful idea and then I saw that some of the wild berries in our garden are ripe, so I baked a cake with them that we can eat together then."

Haldir could feel himself getting choked up again. You, his found family, getting along with his brothers made his heart skip a beat.

"You are wonderful."

He could see the protest on your lips, but you knew better than to disagree. While he had won all the playful arguments, he was serious about you not talking yourself down.

"Thank you", you whispered instead, accepting the compliment, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

The elf chuckled as he felt the heat radiating from your cheeks and let his hand run up and down your lower back soothingly. "You're doing so well, meleth."

You stayed like that, your body half on top of Haldir's, his arm wrapped around you and your hand laying on his chest, right over his heart.

His heartbeat must have lulled you to sleep because the next time the marchwarden looked down at you, your eyes were closed and you were taking deep, even breaths.

Carefully, he turned around to blow out the candle before settling back into the former position, letting his fingers dance over your skin and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Coming home to you will forever be the highlight of my day", he whispered before letting your breathing and the soft glow of the moon lull him into a restful slumber, too.

meleth = love

gi melin = i love you

Taglist: @shadowhuntyi

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Can I request a match-up for Baldur's Gate 3 & Obey Me please?

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Straight (Please exclude Raphael, Emperor, Cazador, Thorm, and the Withers!)

Appearance: I'm a skinny woman who looks like a teenager despite being in my late twenties. My height is like 154cm. I have dark armpit length hair that's tied in a low ponytail. I have big eyes, and I wear wide frame glasses. My nose shape is fleshy nose. I wear oversized t-shirts, baggy pants, and sport shoes

(MBTI &/or Engram if you would like to take the tests and add it) : INFP-T

Personality: I'm shy, timid, quiet & polite to strangers. With people I'm comfortable with, I'm loud, outgoing, playful, mature, responsible, motherly(to naughty friends), childlike(to mature friends/family) and sarcastic (unintentionally).

I'm kinda tomboyish as I wear over-sized t-shirts, baggy pants, sneakers but don't play sports or video games. I'm a slow learner, not smart, not strong, and not talented. I'm pretty dense, straightforward, oblivious, and naive too.

I get confused or misunderstand what people meant easily so it's best if you tell me straight to my face so I can't be mistaken. I'm also touch starved as I love giving & receiving affection but I only can hug one person and even then, I do my best to not overdo it.

I'm a hopeless romantic, sensitive, forgetful, & overthink often. I work as hard as I can & try my best & be careful as I can to everything I do, as I'm pretty clumsy & makes mistakes more often than most people. I try to help my family and friends as they've helped me & cared for me dearly.

I try to communicate properly & ask for their consent first before doing anything because I misunderstood that I had their permission before. I do my best to give people the benefit of doubt but I do have my limits. I don't really get angry often that even my family & friends are surprised when it happens once in a blue moon.

I don't believe in compliments I get occasionally or why my family & friends care for me because I don't see good things in myself only bad things.

Likes (at least like three things): music, fanfiction, manga, anime, cartoons, books (If I find it interesting), family, friends, potato chips, chocolate, cakes, bread, anyone who is kind, patient, supportive, helpful, tries at least, trustworthy, responsible, fair in general, respectful, flexible, honest, open-minded, humble, sincere, accepting, thoughtful, encouraging, forgiving, careful, understanding, wise, mature, cooperative, caring, etc. That's more but that's all I could think of.

Dislikes (at least three things): anyone who's rude, disrespectful, doesn't listen to others, refuse to admit mistakes, blames others for their mistakes, ignores people yet demands attention from them, demanding, won't acknowledge what you said, hypocritical, biased, irresponsible, careless, disloyal, inconsiderate, insensitive, inflexible, petty, hostile, untrustworthy, immature, uncooperative, unforgiving, judgemental, narrow-minded, self-centred, unethical, self-righteous, etc. That's more but that's all I could think of.

Hobbies : drawing, reading manga, listening to music, fanfics especially reader inserts, and watching anime, movies, & cartoons. My favourite genre is romance but I love comedy, mystery, action, sci-fi, fantasy, and historical too! My favourite music genre is pop, but I also love ballads, & alternative rock!

Extra fun fact (this is about whoever you are describing to me): I'm kinda perverted which contrasts my innocent & baby face. I keep it to myself though. I always need to let the cinema employees check my identity card to verify my age whenever I watch a R-rated movie.

Although a kind stranger realises I'm older than I looked when we talked about how I didn't lashed out in anger at someone who didn't do anything wrong to me because I know how it felt to be in that position.

Please and thank you!

It's finally the weekend!!! I am ready to pump out some content for my favorite people!

~~~~~ MATCH UP ~~~~~

For your Baldurs Gate 3 match up I chose this person due to their great sarcasm, loyalty, stubbornness, and deep understanding of struggling with self love.

I match you with-------

Astration Ancunin (Non Ascended)

~~~~~ Headcanon ~~~~~

The first time he met you, he thought you were a child until he got up close to you and realized you were just a very innocent-looking adult.

Astarion can't remember the last time he had a mother, he has only experienced 200 years of being a slave and being hurt.

Astarion loves it when you mom him. He will act like he doesn't, but he secretly craves for someone to take care of him and not let the bad eat him alive anymore.

The dry sarcasm king will attempt many battles of wits with you only to get frustrated that you're just slightly better, so he resorts to flirting and cheap tactics.

Astarion also struggles with compliments. He knows he must be attractive because of the number of people he has taken to his master, but he just can't see past the monster he thinks he is.

Due to his own issues with self-image, he takes extra care to describe clearly and in detail what he loves about you and finds beautiful.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

Your group had safely reached the east bridge leading you into Baldurs Gate. Worn down, hungry, and quite the smelly group, you sought refuge at the first tavern. As you entered the building, it was apparent how costly this would be. Looking at your dwindling coin pouch and your exhausted companions, you sucked it up and went to the tavern keeper. "We need eight beds, please." You gently placed your coin pouch on the table, separating you two. The tavern clerk looked through your coins and set down 4 keys. "This all I gots for ya, kiddo. Why someone as young as you got so much gold." Sighing dramatically, you grabbed the keys. "I am an adult, sir."

You walked over to reconvene with your group, giving them the bad news of the bed situation. Lazel and Shadowheart, having worked through their differences, offered to sleep together. Gale and Halsin had just started discussing the inner workings of combining nature with the weave, which they used as a reason to pair up. Wyll and Karlach had so much sexual tension after their joined union that it would be unfair to separate them. Leaving you and the pale elf left to share. You all made it to your rooms, hoping to get a good night's rest. As you entered, you began to make a pallet on the floor. "Love, I can not allow you to sleep on the floor." You smirked, continuing, "Good, I didn't ask for permission." Astarion scoffed before grabbing your pallet materials and plopping them on the bed. You whipped around to look at him.

"Love, you do so much for our group; you keep us going and me going. If I let you sleep on the ground and wear out your back, I would not only face the wrath of the group and myself but also not be able to live with myself as your partner." Hearing the sincerity in his voice, you smiled softly. You made your way over to the bed, and as you sat down, you grabbed his arm and brought him with you. "Then I say we share a bed; I know we said we'd go slow with anything more, but some cuddles, I think, would do us both some good." Nodding at you with a soft smile, Astarion positioned himself on the bed, allowing you to curl up into him. Honestly, it was the best night of sleep of your life.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(After the final battle, sitting outside admiring the moon with Astarion, you two imagine what nightlife will mean for you now.)

Astarion: I never thought the day would come when I wouldn't need to watch my back.

Y/N: I am proud of you for the choice you made. Together, we can accomplish anything. We just gotta believe in each other.

(Astarion snorts and lays back on the ground)

Astarion: You sound like a school teacher, which is ironic cause you look like a school kid.

(Gasping in shock and smacking his arm lightly)

Y/N: How dare you? There are no cuddles for you tonight.

For your Obey Me! matchup, I chose someone super intelligent and nonjudgmental—unless you're Mammon. He is possessive, especially when his eldest brother notices what is his and cares about what he finds oh-so-cute.

I match you with------

Satan

~~~~~ HEADCANON ~~~~~

It is no lie that Satan is obsessed with cats. He thinks they are the most perfect innocent creatures in the world.

Innocent creatures, innocent girlfriends; what I am getting at is he tried to get you to dress up as a kitten once or twice.

He loves to read with you; he will even help you transcribe books from the devildom you can't read.

Satan is to the point with his brothers, other demons, and especially his partner. The only time satan doesn't talk directly to anyone is when it involves one of his insecurities.

He is a sarcastic man. I mean, come on, we see it in the game. From calling out Mammon to pointing out things Beel does, he makes sure to lace it all with sarcasm.

If you mess up anything in his presence, he is very gentle with you. he knows how frustrating it can be to mess up and how infuriating it is when someone talks down to you like a child.

Satan's wrath comes out almost instantly when he hears someone wrong you, whether that is them calling you a child or making you mad.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

You had been visiting the nearby grocery store with Satan, shopping for dinner tonight. Satan asked you kindly to help him with dinner, and how could you not agree? As you perused the aisle with Satan, looking for what he would cook, you couldn't help but get distracted by the flower section.

Of course, the devildom had some similar flowers as they did in the mortal realm, but most were new to you and quite interesting. As you looked over the flowers, you began to give yourself a mini test on their names and properties, seeing as you and Satan had just finished transcribing a book on devildom flowers. You pulled back and looked around once you had gotten through most of the flowers. Satan was gone; you were in an unfamiliar place, and a shady demon approached you. Shit. Preparing yourself for the encounter, you went back to the flowers. Maybe he will lose interest if you don't interact.

"Heya doll, whatcha doing buying some flowers for mommy." You turned around to face the demon irritation tight on your brow. The demon looked shocked before smirking."Not flowers for mommy, but maybe flowers for yourself. Don't have a man who could buy these for you?" You scoffed at the redicouls notion, "Excuse me but I don't need a man to buy me flowers I can buy them myself. However, I have a man who would be more than happy too." The demon pulled back, looking around you, noticing no one in sight. "Looks like you got no one who would I hates to break it to you." As the demon bent back down in your face, ready to make a wildly inappropriate proposition to you, he suddenly went flying across the store.

Before you stood Satan in his complete form, breathing heavily. "Leave her alone; she doesn't want to talk to a lowlife like you." Looking up at your partner, you couldn't help but smile softly. As Satan turned to look at you, he slowly transformed and grabbed your hand, muttering a soft "I'll get you flowers before we leave."

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(You and satan had decided that after reading an excellent book together, you would watch the movie adaption next. Satan went to collect food for the occasion as you got the theater room ready. Walking in with a large amount of snacks, you were surprised it wasn't Beel helping instead)

Y/N: Woah, love, let me help you with all of that

(Helping take some of the load off of Satan's arms, you noticed all of your favorite foods and very little of Satan's.)

Satan: I may have gone overboard trying to make sure Beel didn't eat your snacks, which I paid little attention to on my own.

Y/N: (holding back a laugh) Don't worry, love, I am more than willing to share.

I hope you like it! I am so glad to be back in the writing groove. Twenty-four hours of no stories and facing off with a storm was far too much for me, lol!

[junowritings]

Can I request a match up for Baldur's Gate 3 please?

My preferred pronouns: she/her

My partner preferences : Male except Raphael, Emperor, Cazador, Thorm, and the Withers!

My personality : I'm shy, timid, quiet & polite to strangers. With people I'm comfortable with, I'm loud, outgoing, playful, mature, responsible, motherly(to naughty friends), childlike(to mature friends/family) and sarcastic (unintentionally).

I'm kinda tomboyish as I wear over-sized t-shirts, baggy pants, sneakers but don't play sports or video games. I'm a slow learner, not smart, not strong, and not talented.

I'm pretty dense, straightforward, oblivious, and naive too.I get confused or misunderstand what people meant easily so it's best if you tell me straight to my face so I can't be mistaken. I'm also touch starved as I love giving & receiving affection but I only can hug one person and even then, I do my best to not overdo it.

I'm a hopeless romantic, dense, sensitive, forgetful, unreliable, & overthink often. I work as hard as I can & try my best & be careful as I can to everything I do, as I'm pretty clumsy & makes mistakes more often than most people. I try to help my family and friends as they've helped me & cared for me dearly.

I try to communicate properly & ask for their consent first before doing anything because I misunderstood that I had their permission before. I do my best to give people the benefit of doubt but I do have my limits. I don't really get angry often that even my family & friends are surprised when it happens once in a blue moon.

I don't believe in compliments I get occasionally or why my family & friends care for me because I don't see good things in myself only bad things.I'm kinda perverted which contrasts my innocent & baby face. I keep it to myself though. I always need to let the cinema employees check my identity card to verify my age whenever I watch a R-rated movie.

Although a kind stranger realises I'm older than I looked when we talked about how I didn't lashed out in anger at someone who didn't do anything wrong to me because I know how it felt to be in that position

Hobbies : drawing, reading manga, listening to music, fanfics especially reader inserts, and watching anime, movies, & cartoons. My favourite genre is romance but I love comedy, mystery, action, sci-fi, fantasy, and historical too! My favourite music genre is pop, but I also love ballads, & alternative rock!

Likes : music, fanfiction, manga, anime, cartoons, books (If I find it interesting), family, friends, potato chips, chocolate, cakes, bread, anyone who is kind, patient, supportive, helpful, tries at least, trustworthy, responsible, fair in general, respectful, flexible, honest, open-minded, humble, sincere, accepting, thoughtful, encouraging, forgiving, careful, understanding, wise, mature, cooperative, caring, etc. That's more but that's all I could think of

Dislikes : anyone who's rude, disrespectful, doesn't listen to others, refuse to admit mistakes, blames others for their mistakes, ignores people yet demands attention from them, demanding, won't acknowledge what you said, hypocritical, biased, irresponsible, careless, disloyal, inconsiderate, insensitive, inflexible, petty, hostile, untrustworthy, immature, uncooperative, unforgiving, judgemental, narrow-minded, self-centred, unethical, self-righteous, etc. That's more but that's all I could think of

Please & thank you!

Of course you can hun! Hell yeah first match up for BG3! Thank you so much for the request and I do hope that you're doing well!

Now without further ado, I match you with...

Hun you deserve a whole lot of love, and no one is more willing to provide it than Dammon! 

Dammon has an affable personality - warm and easygoing to everyone he’s crossed paths with. It makes even some of the most hardened hearts melt like metal over a forge fire, so don’t be surprised if you find yourself warming up to him faster than you’d expect. 

The first few times that the pair of you meet it’s understandable to be shy and quiet. He’ll respect that you may not be the most outgoing around someone you haven’t gotten the time to know. He’s happy to be the mediator for you; he’ll fill in the gaps with idle chatter as he works, prodding with the occasional curious question about yourself or your day if your comfortable. Honestly he’s content to simply exist in your space until those short, polite responses of yours begin to ease into something more genuine - something a little more you.

He admittedly feels proud when you begin to open up around him, since it’s a sign that you’re feeling more comfortable around him. It’s exciting seeing you acting more carefree and loud! The playfulness and sarcasm is a pleasant surprise for him. Dammon can sometimes be downright wicked, so if you’re in any playful kind of mood? You guys go together like a match and oil, much to the detriment of any friends in the vicinity. Plus, even if you don’t notice you’re being sarcastic, the snort and poorly concealed chuckle from the tiefling wherever he is becomes enough of an indication - he can’t help but get a little kick out of the confused look you give him till you clock onto why he’s so easily amused.

You say you’re untalented and not smart, but Dammon will be firm in insisting otherwise! The look on his face the first time you’d said it, so casually as though it were the truth - it genuinely left him speechless. He’d stop whatever he’s doing to move over to your side, taking your hands in his and tugging you so close like his touch will somehow convince you that he means it when he tells you that couldn’t be further from the truth. There's no missing the way you view yourself with a critical eye, so he delegates himself to professional encourager to balance that out - actually called himself that once and will actively do it again if it so much as gets a smile out of you. Not to mention it’s a wonderful excuse to shower you in praise every chance he gets; which with his penchant for encouraging words and teasing means you better get used to being on the receiving end of his endless affections. 

Dammon’s a quick learner. Once he notices that you struggle with misunderstandings he tries to keep in mind to be a little more straightforward in conversation. If he notices in conversations with others that whoever’s talking has lost you with what they’re doing or saying, Dammon doesn’t think twice about subtly leaning in to fill you in on the blanks. He wants you to feel included and doesn’t want you feeling left out - he’s a considerate guy!

Say goodbye to being touch starved because this man is HERE. Dammon gets fidgety when he’s got nothing to work on; he’s so used to working with the heft of tools in his hands that they feel a little emptier without them. Before you two became a thing he’d bring some of his tinier passion projects to tinker with outside the forge, eager to tell you all about them since he doesn’t want you to mistakenly think he’s uninterested. After that though things are still the same, just that these projects have now been replaced by you. Honestly if he had his way he’d always want to be touching you in some way - and if you’re comfortable he will! His hands will always seek out yours for comfort, giving reassuring squeezes when he catches you overthinking. 

Soft touches to your arms, along your back, wherever this tiefling can reach he’s there - there’s just so much of you to love! And when his hands are occupied his tail is right there, circling around your wrist or curling round your hip to keep you in his space. Be sure to give him plenty of love too! Communication comes into play a lot here - Dammon will reassure you every time that he wants whatever affection you’re comfortable to give, but he appreciates that you check in beforehand; it’s a sweet gesture.

Let him listen to your music! He’s got a tendency to get any kind of music stuck in his head even after the first listen; Alfira’s tunes back at the Grove always had him tapping out the notes with clawed fingers along his workspace. Cutest thing is he doesn’t even know he’s doing it - please point out that he’s tapping out a tune or humming along to one of the songs you’d shown him under his breath; he goes copper up to his ears whenever you mention it.

Enjoys hearing about all of your interests, but the pair of you really hit it off over the books. On the road there wasn’t much time or luxury to expand on his reading aside from the few things Dammon brought with him; and books that could be carried on the move were hard to come by. Now that he’s settled in Baldur’s gate he’s set on spending more time doing stuff he enjoys - he’s more than earned the rest at least. And what better way to spend that time than being cuddled up into your side, content to read either alongside you or while you’re enjoying your other hobbies. Dammon’s a sucker for any kind of domestic intimacy like this, and he’ll share the books that he has with you if you’ll do the same. 

That being said, there's no way he’s giving up that one book in his room easily, at least not until you two have been together for a while. Though, that resolve lasts about as long as it takes for you to kiss the guy till he can’t think straight. 

Needless to say, Dammon’s certainly smitten with you.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Can I request a match up for Baldur's Gate 3 & Castlevania (Netflix) please?

My personality : I'm shy, timid, quiet & polite to strangers. With people I'm comfortable with, I'm loud, outgoing, playful, mature, responsible, motherly(to naughty friends), childlike(to mature friends/family) and sarcastic (unintentionally).

I'm kinda tomboyish as I wear over-sized t-shirts, baggy pants, sneakers but don't play sports or video games. I'm a slow learner, not smart, not strong, and not talented.

I'm pretty dense, straightforward, oblivious, and naive too.I get confused or misunderstand what people meant easily so it's best if you tell me straight to my face so I can't be mistaken. I'm also touch starved as I love giving & receiving affection but I only can hug one person and even then, I do my best to not overdo it.

I'm a hopeless romantic, sensitive, forgetful, & overthink often. I work as hard as I can & try my best & be careful as I can to everything I do, as I'm pretty clumsy & makes mistakes more often than most people. I try to help my family and friends as they've helped me & cared for me dearly.

I try to communicate properly & ask for their consent first before doing anything because I misunderstood that I had their permission before. I do my best to give people the benefit of doubt but I do have my limits. I don't really get angry often that even my family & friends are surprised when it happens once in a blue moon.

I don't believe in compliments I get occasionally or why my family & friends care for me because I don't see good things in myself only bad things.

I'm kinda perverted which contrasts my innocent & baby face. I keep it to myself though. I always need to let the cinema employees check my identity card to verify my age whenever I watch a R-rated movie.

Although a kind stranger realises I'm older than I looked when we talked about how I didn't lashed out in anger at someone who didn't do anything wrong to me because I know how it felt to be in that position.

Best attributes : None

Worst attributes : unintentionally sarcastic, not smart, not strong, dense, oblivious, naive, sensitive, overthinks a lot, clumsy, misunderstand easily, get confused easily, forgetful,unreliable. That's more but that's all I could think of.

Hobbies : drawing, reading manga, listening to music, fanfics especially reader inserts, and watching anime, movies, & cartoons. My favourite genre is romance but I love comedy, mystery, action, sci-fi, fantasy, and historical too! My favourite music genre is pop, but I also love ballads, & alternative rock!

Likes : music, fanfiction, manga, anime, cartoons, books (If I find it interesting), family, friends, potato chips, chocolate, cakes, bread, anyone who is kind, patient, supportive, helpful, tries at least, trustworthy, responsible, fair in general, respectful, flexible, honest, open-minded, humble, sincere, accepting, thoughtful, encouraging, forgiving, careful, understanding, wise, mature, cooperative, caring, etc. That's more but that's all I could think of.

Dislikes : anyone who's rude, disrespectful, doesn't listen to others, refuse to admit mistakes, blames others for their mistakes, ignores people yet demands attention from them, demanding, won't acknowledge what you said, hypocritical, biased, irresponsible, careless, disloyal, inconsiderate, insensitive, inflexible, petty, hostile, untrustworthy, immature, uncooperative, unforgiving, judgemental, narrow-minded, self-centred, unethical, self-righteous, etc. That's more but that's all I could think of.

MBTI : INFP-T

Preferred gender result : Male except Raphael, Emperor, Cazador, Thorm, and the Withers!

I'm open whether it's a poly or a monogomous answer.

Please & thank you!

A/N: Okay, first let me just say, HOLY SHIT, this is such a detailed ask! Thank you for being so specific as it really helps the matchup process! Secondly, I would like to say, OF COURSE YOU HAVE BEST ATTRIBUTES! You say so yourself, silly! You’re caring and considerate (always looking for consent, and giving people the benefit of the doubt), you’re hard-working (you try your best even though you’re clumsy and make mistakes often), and you’re extremely considerate, responsible, and self-aware (having this sense of duty to care for your family as they’ve cared for you in the past). 

I know it can be challenging to believe in yourself, god knows I don’t all of the time. But I just wanted to tell you that just by reading this I can tell you you’re an INCREDIBLE person worthy of all such love, friendship, respect, and happiness. And I wish for all of that for you. People give you compliments because they love you, and they want you to love yourself. I know we’re still technically strangers, but from this, I can tell you’re a brilliant, responsible, and empathetic young lady; I would feel proud to call you a friend. Feel free to message me if you ever need to talk, okay?

Okay… Sorry. Mushy rant over. On to the matchups!

For you my Unconvinced Anon, I think your best matches are Halsin (BG3) and Hector (Castlevania)!

Your BG3 Matchup: 

Halsin would be a great match for you! He’s kind and wise, and very soft-spoken. You’re extremely compatible as Halsin is fairly intuitive when it comes to feelings and relationships, so even if you are forgetful or misunderstood, it’s no matter. 

Halsin is also very forward and direct in telling people how he feels and what he wants. Some people (and some game players) can find this to be offensive. But Halsin does not intend to offend or overstep. And should you tell him to please reel it in, he will gladly do so. You too mention how you are often unintentionally sarcastic and straightforward. Halsin is someone who greatly appreciates this level of honesty in a partner. He finds it preferable to those who would play games or beat around the bush with their feelings. 

Halsin also likes your style. Druids tend to appreciate function over form in most that they do, and clothing is no exception. So long as you are comfortable, and covered enough to not break any public indecency laws, Halsin doesn’t care that you aren’t wearing flower skirts or embroidered coats. What works for you, works for him. Although yes, he still doesn’t see a big deal with people walking around naked. He’d fit right in at a nudist colony that’s for sure lol. But he understands not everyone is as comfortable with nudeness as he is, so he promises to remain clothed unless you would ask otherwise of him ;) 

Halsin appreciates your more mature, motherly nature. Especially since he can use all of the help he can get teaching and sort of parenting all of the orphans he’s taken into his new settlement, outside of the city. He admires how you inspire the children to be honest and kind in their actions, even when it may get them into trouble. You lead by example, and to Halsin, there simply is no better way to lead. 

He also rather enjoys your naughtier side. Gods know he certainly has one. And it’s always a comfort to find someone with an open mind surrounding such adult or perverse subjects as opposed to someone who would be judgemental and stick up their nose. 

Halsin is also very understanding when it comes to physical boundaries. Yes, he would love to be intimate with you, as well as hold you or cuddle during the long cold nights. But he also understands that not everyone is as friendly to touch as he is, so he will always ask for permission before touching you or hugging or kissing you. And who knows? Maybe in time the two of you can work through baby steps to a level where you feel comfortable with him touching you. Don’t worry, however, Halsin will still make a point to check in with you first. And if you don’t ever feel overly touchy, that’s fine too. Halsin enjoys your company just as much. 

However, Halsin does take a small issue with you not believing you have ‘best qualities’, as you said. He thinks you’re full of great qualities! He loves how excited you get when you talk about the latest historical romance novel you’ve read. He loves how considerate you are, especially when it comes to speaking to the children or irritated people, and how you don’t immediately assume the worst of them. He thinks it admirable. 

Halsin is an ENFJ (at least in my opinion), so when you are introverted, he’s extroverted. If you’re around unfamiliar people and feeling shy, he’ll do the talking for you, no problem. Halsin’s extroversion is also great for you because it can push you out of your comfort zone, and into trying new things and meeting new people. He’s always bragging about you, how incredible he thinks you are. And he proudly shows off the drawings you allow him to share. He just can’t help but beam when it comes to you. 

On the other hand, you’re both NFs (Intuitive Feelers), so you end up creating a very soft, and understanding harmonious relationship. You’re both highly empathetic and compassionate, so once you’re in a relationship together, you can stay in it for the long haul. You believe in working things out via communication and love. ENFJs are also driven by a need to be better, whereas you as an INFP, are driven by a sense of responsibility to do something important. The two of you understand that life is about those around you, not just about yourself. Your combined selflessness makes you the perfect couple!

And don’t tell him I said this, but get a few drinks in him and Halsin will reveal that he actually has a decent singing voice. Let him serenade you with old druidic ballads about the land and love and nature’s greatest creations. Just try not to blush too hard when he stops the song to inform you that in his eyes, YOU are nature’s greatest creation. 

Your Castlevania Matchup: 

Hector would be another wonderful match for you! He’s more on the quiet side, but once he develops a relationship with someone, he does open up and show off a more witty sort of dark-humored funny side. 

In the early seasons, Hector is also rather naive, almost childlike in his understanding of the world and the figures around them. He takes everyone at face value, not bothering to wonder if there’s something unsaid lying just beneath a conversation or agreement’s surface. Of course, once he is tricked by Carmilla into betraying Dracula, much of that changes. Sure, the childlike wonder and innocence Hector has for all of his undead animal creations is still there, but he’s matured. He’s learned. 

Hector would be a good match for you because he understands what it means to go through life not quite understanding what people are saying, and what’s more, being an outcast because of it. He will do his best to be direct/straightforward when talking to you because he knows you need it, and because he’s learned that when it comes to the people you love, honestly, however painful it may be in the short run, is the best policy in the long run. A temporary bruised pride or ego is nothing compared to the scar left by a former relationship that was ultimately built on lies. 

Hector also has a very distinct fashion sense. I mean, have you seen his hair? He’s gorgeous with that hair and skin and he doesn’t mind that others know it. He likes your more relaxed style. In Dracula’s court, he and Issac were always under such pressure to look clean-cut and important. It’s nice to be able to relax and not worry about his manner of dress when you’re around. 

And if anyone is touch starved, oh my god, it’s this man. Sure he had some experiences in the past, and then he spent a short while with Lenore, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t mean what he wanted it to. It was all an illusion and a fleeting one at that. Hector doesn’t know what it means to feel a lover’s touch. He’s completely inexperienced in that department. He’s no stranger to sex, but what of softness and tenderness beyond that? Has he ever had one of those incredibly comforting bear hugs, the ones where both people wish they could stay there, holding onto one another for eternity? Has he ever sat next to his lover on the couch, their thighs just barely brushing up against one another, and felt safe, felt at home? Hector doesn’t know whether or not he’s touch-averse because touch is foreign to him. The two of you would get to learn together where each of your boundaries are, and how each of you would need to be touched to feel loved. The great bit is you’d be discovering all of that together. 

I would also argue that early seasons Hector, and even later Hector is a hopeless romantic. Not necessarily in the lovey-dovey sort of way, but in the looking to the future with rose-colored-glasses sort of way. His vision for Dracula’s future was certainly much more lush than what Dracula suggested. And his view of summoning souls into corpses in his forge-mastery is also clouded by this sort of soft, glamourized view. 

The other thing you have in common with Hector seems to be this recurring theme that you need to be or should be better for the people you love. Hector has a fair amount of guilt for doing what he did, with choosing to believe Carmilla over Dracula, with not understanding the true scope of either of the vampire’s plans. He feels like he let Dracula, Issac, vampire society, and humanity down. I can sort of hear a similar thing in your writing. Now, I don’t know the reason for you feeling this way, so I can’t relate it to Hector’s internal justification, but I can confidently say this: he understands, probably more than anyone, why you feel this way. He sees the way you shrug off his compliments, how you don’t seem to believe him when he says he’s proud of you and so happy he gets to share his second shot at life with you. He knows it will take time, but he won’t stop reminding you that, to him, you are beyond incredible. And he’s so unbelievably fortunate to have met you. 

In the past humans have treated him horribly. They’ve been all the things you dislike: closed-minded, judgemental, hypocritical, superiorly indignant… They cast him out. But you, you’re so kind, and considerate, empathetic, and humble. You are living proof that humans can be more than cruel and closed off- you’re the best humanity has to offer. Hector can’t believe he almost condemned someone like you, and the other side of humanity that you represent, to death. Knowing you, he swears he will never make a mistake like that again: no ignorant group judgments from here on out. 

Plus Hector is (in my opinion), an INTP. With you being an INFP, you’re both introverts who enjoy the quiet. The big difference is that you are an Intuitive Feeler, he’s an Intuitive Thinker, so he tends to be driven more by logic and facts rather than emotions. In some cases, this may result in Hector not quite understanding why you react to something because he’s looking at it from a distanced, scientific view. He may come off as critical at times because of this, but I believe his more recent experiences have taught him the importance of communication. As long as the two of you are willing, you should be able to talk these disagreements or misunderstandings out. It’s also great for him because you keep teaching him that some choices cannot be logically quantified, there’s no clear-cut rationale behind them. In a lot of instances, choosing to be kind doesn’t make sense: it doesn’t follow any specific rules or purpose, but it’s the right thing to do. Your unique approach to thinking about life and people and problem-solving pushes Hector to become more aware and compassionate when it comes to his fellow man. 

Plus, with his plans to write a book, and your love for interesting reading, Hector would love nothing more than for you to enjoy his writing, and offer any feedback you’d have. He values your opinion, your company, your… Well, everything. You mean the world to him. 

The two of you get to live a kind, peaceful life, with your friends, family, and of course, your own little army of undead pets to keep you company.  

A/N: Holy fricken shit this answer is 2,000 words long! Whoops. My apologies. It kind of got away from me a little bit lol. I just want to reiterate for other readers, this isn’t my norm. These matchups are intended to be shorter. But this Anon here sounded like they could use some cheering up, so my creative juices jumped into hyperdrive. 

If you enjoyed, don’t forget to like and REBLOG! Likes are nice, but reblogs are extra nice! 

As always, please consider tipping me via Kofi! 

[khaleesiofalicante]

Happy New Year! I really hope this year brings you and your loved ones and the entire world peace and happiness! I hope for every dream to be accomplished, for every wish to come true, for every goal to be achieved and for all the lemons to become lemonade! (Unless someone doesn't like lemonade, then they can sell it and use the money to buy another drink, preferably something with alcohol).

I would just like to mention that anyone who didn't like TLND, and no hate because everyone is entitled to their own opinion, didn't fully understand it and that is such a pity, because they missed out. I first saw TLND when you already had written like half the chapters I think? And I promised myself I wouldn't read it until it was over, but I didn't last so I started reading it after chapter 31 came out, I think. And I was immediately hooked. I am so glad that I read it before it was over, because I was starved for content and that's how I ended up in your tumblr account and I love it here. All the speculations and the videos and the headcanons and the different opinions and the analysis of all the people this story, your story touched, like it touched me where amazing! It made me even more hooked. And let me tell you, I've read it so many times that every time it became more and more important to me. At first, I read it because of Magnus and Alec, I didn't care about the other characters or their journey( TLND was the first story of yours I read), but the more I read it, the more in love I fell with everyone else, Max, Rafael and the rest and let me tell you, I'm not the one to enjoy original characters in fanfictions. But I loved yours, the way you had studied and the way you wrote them it wasn't anything I have seen before. It was careful and calculated, the plot carefully laid out and in the end the thought you had put into it was so obvious. And that's how I started reading LBAF and then fell in love with the LBAF gang and all these original characters you created, and now I'm hooked with all of your stories and kinda obsessed with IALS. But it all started with TLND(Also when my Mavid obsession started, and I might get hate for this but TLND Mavid are superior it's when I first got to see them, so I'm allowed to love them more than the others.)

But TLND also gave me something I cherish- perspective. Seeing Magnus' struggles and pain, seeing Alec's pain, the way those two loved each other and supported each other, it was unique. At first I was pissed at Magnus and was judging him I have to be honest, but the more I read, the more you revealed about him, I understood that there was more to it and I felt for him. Which just made IALS so much better, every time I read a chapter I try to find the hidden meaning and understand David and that made the experience of reading so much better. I realised that we can't just judge, that we need to know more before we point fingers that there is so much in people that we don't get to see and we need to be more sympathetic.

I've always known that and I've always tried to live by it but it's hard sometimes. And I think your story will be a constant reminder of that and that's a pretty great gift so thank you🤍

Ps: The latest IALS chapters killed me and I have so many thoughts that I will share later, your mind is a very creative place!

All of this made my whole day. It was a pretty weird day and I'm about to write a difficult chapter so I think I needed this love and strength.

It's always wonderful to hear the journeys of my readers. For me, sometimes it feels like the story is over after i publish, you know. But it's funny to me, that's when the story begins for you. You start where I stop. I go through a whole lot of emotions when I write them and I'm like 'phew I'm done!' but then you start reading a chapter and go through all of that (and maybe more) all over again. It's surreal. It's a weird feeling for me. But I love it.

Thank you for sharing this with me. I love it. I love you.

Sending love x

[toter-welpe]

Alright so given this is the "porn blog" I am inclined to believe I have a right at my own posts and thoughts since this is the most appropriate place so here I am willing to share and expose. This is no vent, I am simply sharing a piece of my mind. I shan't be available afterwards as I plan on going back to sleep. So first I'd like to adress the fact you wouldn't peg me?? Ouch? Depths forbid a guy wants some cock inside him, be it plastic. Not your fault I've my times where all I think about is dick, such is the way of the bisexual. We all have our biological needs after all, and it isn't my body that you'll have to deal with - not that it makes a difference, be it with surgery or regardless I still have both entrances to be filled up. Let me cut the bullshit, we'd both like be fucked - me more currently, he's uh... yearning? Speaking of I'm granting you laughstock, he's so pathetic. It shouldn't come as a surprise he used to drool the first times you've pet him, now your bitch moans when you hold him a bit too tight. Touch starved much? Severely so, but he'd rather die than admit to it. You should see the way he's all over that pillow, all coiled around it, pressing his body against it desperate, kisses it when no one is around - it can be heard I bet, it's downright comedic how he tries keep quiet and fails so miserably. I can tell you right now I bet that by the time you're awake he's again cradling the "head" of it, one whole arm around it, pressing it in on him, under his chin, pushing the other end between his thighs, coursing his fingers up and down across it, I don't get who he's trying to soothe, you're not feeling any of that. Fucking dumbass. It's, cute, in its own desolate desperate dog way, if you think about it - but back to fucking me. I'd love to be put against the wall by you, just forced to take it, fuck, hurt me. Now don't get me wrong, I still enjoy dominating, I will stick to it for the rush, but I can't help myself sometimes. Even smaller things. I can practically feel myself bend backwards, give you room, bracing myself by the edge of the washing machine as you put your lips to mine, my neck, me and my stupid fantasies. I lied. You're hot. And I want you to make your whore of me. That's what I am anyway. Piece of trash. You woke up by now and I realise how much in common I have with your mutt, how I pretend you hold me oh so gently, how I instantly feel some form of relief at our placebo. Have I had the peace of mind I wouldn't be interrupted, I'd touch myself right now, with you around. You wouldn't know, of course. I just feel I want you so bad. At times I think of the time we actually brought up masturbation and I'm still half tempted at times to guide you, but I'll be nice and leave it for the other guy, I'm sure he'll handle it just as well. I'd just love see you able please yourself proper, everyone deserves a good one after all.

Update: given it's taken me hours to get this done and we are pseudoflirting I will like to add one last note : Breed me. That's it, thank you. Just, manhandle me, grab me, push and pull at me and use me. I feel sick?? No, I said that because that shot straight to the pit of my stomach. I'll enjoy whatever you do to me you idiot I'm melting even at the thought. Just, damn. You were smooth, and I will feel better about myself for a while now I hope you're aware flirting has that effect on people. I just have to calm down first,

[genshingarbage]

I'm back! And with another idea:

An headcanon sneaky kiss!

[S/o that kiss their cheeks or lips before going to work/in the other room (practically always)]

I would like to see how the genshin boys (Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya and Kazuha ) react~

Again, don't overwork yourself and thank you!! 🥰

Hello you! My favorite little fluff monster <3 I'm sorry I've been dead for so long! I just burnt myself out too quickly on here RIP. But I am back now! I'm sorry if this isn't as good as my usual writing, I am still kinda rusty so bare with me. 🥺 - Mod Diluc

Secret Kisses Just For You. || Head Cannons ||

Kaeya/Kazuha/Zhongli/Diluc

Kaeya

He would adore it, every time, without fail.

He would make it routine in his own mind after the first couple times.

He would start to expect it, almost demand it, but never aloud to you.

It was his small reminders that you, you were his, and he was yours.

The sweet innocent context it gave was something he didn't realise he needed so bad.

He loved it every time.

Without a fail he would fall victim to his happy sly smirks and smiles it would give him after.

Another rushed morning for you and Kaeya as you both woke up late together, cuddled tight in the snug warmth of both of your joint bed.

Why did you always succumb to his drinking games on working nights?

The morning was filled with clanking and cluttering as you both jumbled about to get dressed and prepped for the busy day ahead of you both.

"I swear, you are unbelievable Kaeya, I am never listening to you again!" You softly but sternly said to the man who was half way through shoving a snack into him for his breakfast.

He scoffed playfully and shook his head finishing off his little snack and then looked back at you, who was poorly throwing together your outfit in a hurried manner, no time for breakfast for you.

"Mhm, whatever you say princess." He playfully spoke back and it coaxed a childlike grumble from you.

You were already making your way outta the building, before gasping softly, having forgotten something crucial.

Turning back around you bumped softly into his chest, as he was right behind you about to make leave after you. His eyes blink several times in slight confusion.

But his lips soon creep into a smirk when you giggle and lean up, stretching onto your toes and planting a soft gentle kiss against the mans lips before you, letting it linger and tingle ever so slightly.

"Cya later Kaeya!" You called out, already having turned away and began to run down the pathway.

Kaeya stood there waving you off before softly touching his own lips and humming gently, a small smile on his lips. Before letting a gentle mutter slip from him idly; "You never forget, Y/N."

Kazuha

Will almost never expect it.

Everytime will be a first for him, shocked but pleased.

You'll see more of smile if it's a kiss on his lips goodbye rather than his cheek; he's greedy sometimes.

Every now and then he may catch you off guard and be the first to plant the kiss on you rather than you him.

Whether it's just to say goodbye or good luck to him it means a lot, because it's what helps fuel him for the tiresome day ahead.

Being a lone wandering samurai leaves him feeling starved of many things, and small sweet affectionate gestures such as this is no exception.

So deep down he's very grateful for how thoughtful you are to him.

The sun had barely began to rise when you were pulled from your peaceful slumber, your heavy eyelids forcing open to land on Kazuha.

He was faced away, quietly and slowly dressing himself, like every morning he tended to leave earlier than you'd wake up, so you were use to your lonely mornings.

But this time however he'd not gone unnoticed, the dip in the bed beside you no longer evident was enough to wake you up, and let you be greeted with how he often readies himself for departure when you're still blissfully unaware.

"Mmh, Kazuha." Your soft sleepy voice let out.

Turning suddenly his eyes relaxed and gazed upon your still half dreaming form, he smiled gently to you as he was finishing up with his clothing.

"I didn't mean to wake you, sorry, Y/N." He spoke with a soft whispered tone at you, so gentle in his actions.

You sat up; the groggy feeling hitting you all the harder. Looking at him with a pouted lip, he turned to face you properly now and merely smiled shaking his head.

He dipped back onto the bed, using his knee as support to prevent himself from completely collapsing on you.

Shuffling upward he now kept himself hovered over and softly ran his hand through your hair at the side, warm and calming, just the way you liked it.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go." He spoke with such solemn tones in his voice that it made an involuntarily whimper slip from you.

You knew he has no choice and the way you were behaving was unfair and somewhat childish, he was a lone traveller, a lone samurai.

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you decided to make your relationship with him romantic.

So you nodded softly and silently accepted your defeat to him; he closed his eyes leaning forward and kissing your forehead sweetly. His hand still entrapped in your soft hair.

As he pulled away you let instinct grip ahold of you and grasped his shirt, causing him to freeze from pulling away anymore, and before he questioned your actions you had your lips on his.

Soft, sweet, gentle. Your own way of saying goodbye and good luck to the man you held so dearly to you now.

He returned the kiss with the same feelings reversed, letting your sweet actions dizzy him ever so slightly.

Before finally you separated your lips from his and both of you in unison took a deep breath, it was a kiss that was going to last in his memory for the weeks of solitude ahead that's for sure.

And the last thing you saw was his smiling face before he turned and left your home. Promising you like he always did, that he will return.

Diluc

Honestly keeps the man going at this point.

His life is always so stressful and chaotic, so the fact you are able to calm him down with such a sweet notion means the world to him.

He will do it to you too, that's a definite.

This will become a shared norm to you both.

He wouldn't have it any other way, kissing his lips, his cheek, his forehead- anything is enough to make him feel calm and rejuvenated.

It's these small acts of love and adoration that fuels him onwards.

Yet another busy day was laid out ahead of you at Angel's Share, nothing was new here.

You'd promised Diluc you'd set off before him to open up the said tavern, while he runs through some last minute details with his private affairs at the winery.

You'd both eaten dinner; which was cooked to perfection- you made sure to thank the maids for their hard efforts on such a delicacy.

With a full stomach and go get it done attitude you went to the door opening it slowly to begin your evening stroll to Mondstadt, it was a Friday after all so opening late was a given, considering the fact most residents were planning on staying late.

Just as you set foot outside however you were stopped dead in your tracks with a hand engulfing gently over yours.

"Y/N." A deep voice called out behind you, you turned your head to meet the familiar deep voice and there stood your boyfriend Diluc, your hand intertwined with his.

A smile found its way onto your lips. Ah, so he did notice then.

You chuckled softly and he smiled at you, catching onto your little game, cupping your chin softly to guide your face upward and lock your gaze with his own.

Leaning his head in while you leaned up, you both shared a tender and fleeting kiss against eachothers lips.

Not as lingering as your often goodbye kisses are, due to the fact he would be with you at the tavern shortly.

But still, a goodbye kiss is always needed for the both of you, it comforts you both so dearly.

As he breaks away from the kiss you feel a rush to be cheeky and so lean up and plant another soft and brief kiss against his cheek.

With a pat of his shoulder and click of your tongue you pull away from your boyfriends loving embrace and begin to track down the pathway.

"Cya soon luc!" You called out, to which you got no reply.

But that was because he stood there arms crossed watching you leave the property.

"The nerve of this woman, heh." He shook his head silently and turned shutting the door, but a smile was prominent on his lips nonetheless.

Zhongli

Will become enamored with the action.

He'll adore it everytime.

Something he looks forward too and enjoys more each time it happens.

Whenever you plan to leave or he has to depart for a while he builds it up in his head because he's secretly just a sweet love sick boy.

The first few times he would've made sure they're short and not too lingering.

But that's all wind above trees now, because each time he draws it out longer and makes it linger for days. (If one of you are leaving for a long period of time)

If its just a goodbye kiss before going to work or something that's different, he'll keep it short but super sweet.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't push down the little laugh that escaped you. He always managed to make you smile.

"Zhongli, I can't have tea right now, it's working hours-" He holds your hand in his, his coy way of trying to distract you from scolding him.

You don't fall for it though and simply slip your hand away from his, ignoring the sting in your heart from the rejection in his eyes as you do.

"And you know this Mr." You finished.

He huffs and admits defeat, he didn't expect you'd really shut the shop down early anyway, he just misses you more than he'd like to admit to himself.

"Very well, I understand. Forgive my intrusion." He speaks so formally and maturely, like the man wasn't just acting like a school kid crushing over you.

How does he do it?

He turns to leave and you watch him; but the tugging on your heart gets stronger and you know why.

Ah, yes. How silly of you.

You slipped around the counter and walked over to him with haste, gripping his hand to stop him in his tracks.

This time you hear a small chuckle from him reverberate from within his throat and you smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He turns around, his golden eyes glowing down at you and you smile up at him; pushing up on your toes.

Your lips land on his and you both stand there entranced in a sweet tingling kiss that shudders through both of your bodies.

He's the first to pull away however, because if he doesn't the kiss will most likely escalate to other intimate things, which are best kept under sheets.

The sensation lingers on your lips, and the tugs at his soul. You both forget how in love you are with eachother sometimes, but when the goodbye kiss sparks you both so much; you're quickly reminded.

"I'll see you at home, Zhongli." You say slowly, trying to think the words out properly before actually voicing them.

He nods slowly. "Of course, see you later my love." He replies, then turns and leaves all in one fluid motion.

You love that man, well, God.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 11

Silent scream

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n gets shut up

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"Fuck you." I snapped, mustering all the saliva I could before spitting it at his face. He flinched back when it splattered over his cheek, his fingers swiping through the spittle before he was shaking it from them and standing back to his full height.

"It appears this one is never going to cooperate. If she won't give us information, why let our experimentations on her possibly...benefit the girl the the future?" The general spoke menacingly to the guards behind me. "How about way find a way to shut her up?"

My heat thudded so hard in my chest it was like someone was punching me from the inside, all air knocked from my lungs before I was being hoisted up to my feet again with two rough grips on my upper arms. My chest heaving, I coughed a ragged breath before composing myself. The glint of the silver blade in the corner of my vision sent my eyes bugging out of my skull and my mind into a flat panic.

So, I did what any rational person with my capabilities would do. I began to hum the deep melody - one a seldom sung - and a smirk crawled its way onto my now curved lips. Clearly, the general was prepared, but the two guards behind we weren't so lucky.

A desperate cry pierced my tune, harmonising with my voice as I heard the havoc I was causing. This was the first time I'd enjoyed a kill, the very first time I'd wanted to use my powers for such a horrific reason. I'd only ever used this part of my power a few times, but this was the only time I'd been fully lucid whilst doing so.

Some people want nothing more than to blow their enemies' brains out, and trust me when I tell you; It felt good.

However, luck was never on my side, and the General had come full prepared. He wasn't even affected, it must've been something to do with the funny earpiece he was wearing.

As my eyes met his, the General's face held non of the cocky, smug tones that I'd expect. No, the only word I could use to describe his old and crinkled features was pure ire, and it was directed at me.

"You conniving, vile little bitch!" He snarled, the flash of silver weeding a sense of utter and complete dread, tangled with fear inside of me, uprooting my confidence. I don't remember a lot after that, to tell you the truth. I know the blade sliced along my throat. I know everything was rained black. And that's about it.

...

Awakening with a gasp was the last thing I expected to happen. The sight of the blade risen in front of the general burned into my mind, almost as if it'd been scorned against my flesh. But here I was: awake, gasping for breath, completely surrounded by doctors I'd never seen before.

My hand instantly flew to my neck, a stinging sensation pulsing from the delicate skin. I hissed as my sweaty palm made contact with the bandage, the material corse and scratchy against my skin. As a doctor waddled over to me, needle in hand, I flailed desperately, a silent scream ripping from my throat.

Hang on a second-

Silent scream? I tried again, the shrill noise that should be tearing from me simply vanishing as it hit my throat. My eyes widened with the realisation, my bottom lip wobbling as I suddenly pieces together what had happened.

He said he'd have to shut me up, didn't he? The thought made me want to scream loudly, that the blade had touched my skin and left me with no defence.

They took away the hell they'd reigned upon me, something I'd wished I could be rid of for years, and now I was disappointed. Maybe this was their plan all along, that little voice in my head sang. The tears pricked at my eyes, which rolled back lazily as the scratch of the needle poked at my neck.

...

My calloused fingers ran over the cut tirelessly, trying to itch somewhere that I could never seem to find. I don't know how long I was sedated for, but since waking up the bleeding had stopped and there was now an offensive red line that slid horizontally across my neck.

Every time I touched it, it coaxed a wince from me, and yet that's all I seemed to do. It was like poking a bruise, I guess. The more it hurts the more you want to do it.

They'd returned me to my cell, clearly very little need for restraints against my weakened, starved and dehydrated body. I could see the flesh thinning on my arms, my ribs pressing painfully against my skin. Not only could I see the hunger, but I could feel it.

Manifesting, biting, gnawing hunger. The type that are you from inside out, devouring everything of you until the only thing you could think about was eating. Huh, I guess I was already at that stage then.

My eyes remained locked in place, glossy with the endless tears as I stared at the floor. If I really looked hard enough, the still wet blood smeared over the floors of the hallway resembled something close to strawberry jam. The thoughts of the sickly sweat substance spread over a perfectly toasted piece of bread, accompanied with a big glass of fresh orange juice and washed down by a large coffee made my mouth water. The booming rumble in my stomach made the groan, even more drawn out than expected when I remembered all I'd get to eat today: a small bread roll and a tiny glass of water.

Sadly, the sink in my cell did not contain drinking water. The liquid was so discoloured that I purposely avoided washing me hands, preferring to possible have my own germs coating my hands than whatever they were giving me. I'm not kicking you about, I genuinely think the water was filtered through a clump of fucking horse shit, mixed with fish guts and complimented with a hint of rotting fruit. If I could help it, I'd be dodging that water like the plague (if it didn't contain one already) for the rest of my life.

I'm not really sure why, but my head snapped up in surprise why the door sprang open, a single guard entering.

"The general requires your presence." He deadpanned, eyes cold as eyes and sharp as a knife as they stabbed through me. I wanted to fight back, stay glued to the spot and snap back some snarky remark, but in my current condition I almost couldn't bring myself to care where I was about to be taken, or why for that matter.

I stood without a word, silently following the man until we reached an unfamiliar metal door. I found it almost laughable, really, that they'd reduced my strength so much, that no one even considered putting me any sort of restraints anymore.

The door was pushed open with a child-like whine emitting from its rusty hinges, the metal scraping over the concrete floor painfully. The guard simply grabbed my arm before tugging me into the room, letting the door shut behind his with a hollow thunk.

"Ah, she has arrived!" The general's voice exclaimed, a deviant smile spreading over his thin lips. "And just in time to meet Mr Pierce, too." He said menacingly.

I felt embarrassed, exposed, stood before the room of men. My hair was a mess, tears streaking my reddened face, eyes puffy from crying and the only clothes a wore was a now-battered hospital gown. My eyes darted around nervously, trying to avoid the blonde man sat before me, chin resting in his palm as he surveyed me.

"Why is this one...important?" The man asked, eyeing me up and down before his eyes seemed to fixate on my neck. The scar.

"This," the general spoke, but Mr Pierce kept his eyes on me, "is Miss y/n Stark." Mr Pierce's eyes widened ever so slightly, but it was barely noticeable.

"As in Tony Stark?" Pierce pondered.

"The very same." The general smirked.

"She seems awfully...quiet, for a Stark." Pierce said with almost a hint of disgust, eyes still glued to my shaking frame.

"That's because we shut her up." The general snapped, awfully harshly.

"Is that the scar? How fresh is it?" Pierce jabbed his questions, curiosity clearly becoming him in the moment.

"Indeed. Our doctors here are very good, Sir. They had her all patched up and out of bandages in just three days." The general bragged, shoulders back and head held high as if he was posing for a portrait.

"I see." Pierce mused, brows furrowed in thought. "What do you plan to do with her? Now that she can't tell you anything?"

"Oh, trust me, sir. She wasn't giving anything up either way," he paused, striding over to me and yanking my head back with a fistful of hair, my back mow  pressed to his chest and his mouth at my ear, "isn't that right, sweetheart?"he clarified, and I didn't hesitate to nod my head as much as his grip would allow.

"So why isn't she dead?" Pierce gritted, seemingly annoyed. "It's not like Tony's attached to her, he never looked for her and I've never even heard him mention her."

"But then they'll keep coming. I don't want the avengers on my back, and I'm sure you don't either." Pierce hummed in agreement. "She's with them - her and that Captain America guy arrived together - so why not use her to send a message?" The general suggested.

...

That's how I found myself tied up, wrists bound and gun to my head as I sat shakily in a chair in the middle of the quinjet. I had no clue how long I'd been since that day, but I do know that I had been sedated once again. The flimsy hospital gown allowed a shiver to chill me, skin  forming goosebumps as I sat before the open door or the quinjet.

"You will tell them exactly as I just did. Got it?" The general pressed, pushing the gun into my head hard enough to make by head throb. Tears biting at my eyes, I nodded furiously, now determined to live with the promise of being free again. "Good. Soldat, make sure she gets back to New York without being seen, I'd hate to have to spill more blood than we intended." The general demanded, a figure rustling its way out of the shadows at the edge of the room. A gasp tore from my throat at the sight of him - clad in black leather and arm as silver as the moon. The soldier - my soldier.

But he simple stared through me, eyes blank and clouded in a coldness I'd never had directed at me from him before.

"And make sure you don't fail this time, soldat." The general snapped. The soldier nodded solemnly, the echoing of boots thudding filling both their ears as the general walked off the ship.

[mandoalorian]

Loving You For You [Maxwell Lord x GN!Reader]

Summary: Maxwell Lord is struck with a panic attack when he's getting ready to shoot one of his famous infomercials. He's hit with the trauma of his youth and begins to spiral, until you, his loving partner, show him that it's okay to feel afraid and it's okay to find admittance in his struggles.

Warnings: descriptions of poverty, starvation, body dysmorphia, panic attack, general insecurity, brief mention of addiction (alcohol and gambling), brief mention of abuse.

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2000>

Author's note: So many of you loved 'Perfect to Me', which was about a reader who had their own body dysmorphia (you can find it in my Masterlist under ‘Maxwell Lord’, and asked me to write more. I put a little twist on things and wrote this, a one-shot in which Maxwell suffers from body dysmorphia and struggles to leave his past behind him. Reader discretion advised.

Masterlist

When Maxwell Lorenzano was 6 years old, he owned one pair of shorts and two t-shirts. He had no choice but to wear them throughout the coldest winter in history, his knees red raw from the cold, and they lasted him for two years until he quite literally was growing out of them. When he finally parted with them, his mother gifted him with a dark blue knitted sweater, and Maxwell swore it was the best present he'd ever received. He'd finally feel the warmth he craved so desperately. The warmth that other children got from their parents embrace...he was getting from an itchy sweater that smelt like cheap beer and cigarettes. But it was his, and it was all he had.

After Maxwell's father stole all of the money for his gambling and alcohol addiction, he left Mrs Lorenzano with just five pesetas to feed the small family for a week. The brown eyed boy remembered that winter as the worst one yet. The bedwetting had gotten bad again and he had never gone so hungry. He remembered his stomach rumbling in class and his cheeks would flush as the other kids teased and laughed at him for it. He remembered stealing a banana from another kid's packed lunch, getting caught, and told that if he continued to steal, he'd be nothing but a criminal low-life just like his father. But he was just hungry. His shoes had holes in them so his toes poked out. He bathed in a tin bucket once a week right up until he was a teenager.

And thirty years later, Maxwell Lorenzano, or Lord, as he now went by, was staring at himself in the full length bedroom mirror. Everything was perfect. He'd proved everyone back home wrong. He became someone. Someone esteemed, someone important and someone with a heightened self worth. People asked for his autograph in the street and preached to him about their love and admiration for his work. He was a man who could make dreams come true. Everything was perfect… or so it should've been.

It didn't fit. Maxwell picked at the way the pale pink polo shirt clung to his body. He turned to the side and sighed when he saw the way it highlighted his little tummy. He sucked in his breath, trying to flatten it, but it didn't really work. And for a split second he considered how many meals it would take to lose that little bit of weight. This whole outfit had been tailored for him just two weeks ago and it was perfect but now he hated it. He didn't just hate it. He felt disgusting.

It was weird. Sure his insecurity about his body image was rampant as he took in his appearance, but he didn't feel like himself.

Truthfully, when he changed his name from Lorenzano to Lord he had done it to start anew. That name was his father's and he wanted no association with the man who had abused and tormented him and his mother. But when Maxwell Lorenzano became Max Lord, it was like the struggle ended. He'd fought for so long and so hard trying to fit in with the modern-day example of a successful businessman. He was the least American all-American man. He dyed his hair blonde, even seeked a vocal coach to try and rid himself of his accent. And it worked. Everything was being handed to him on a silver plate. He was the coverboy of Forbes, the owner of three country clubs and day spas across America. The Wall Street Journal were constantly on his case, wanting to interview him. He was swimming in cash. He had everything he could ever want. But it wasn't him.

He felt like a fraud. A liar. A con-man. And as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he saw nothing but the broken little boy he was thirty years ago, wearing ill-fitted clothes and a fake smile. It wasn't meant to be like this. He was spiralling.

"Hey honey?" he heard your sweet voice call from the next room, your footsteps approaching down the corridor. His tense composure relaxed ever so slightly when he heard you coming, and he grabbed the white suit jacket from the top of the dresser, quickly pulling it over him. He didn't want you to see him like this. See his tummy and the way the stupid shirt didn't fit him the way it did two weeks ago. You'd seen him naked plenty of times and deep down Maxwell knew that you wouldn't care, but he just felt so vulnerable in his own skin. "The camera crew are waiting downstairs in the lobby and they're getting antsy," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you padded into the bedroom. "The director is insufferable, Max. I keep telling him this is your infomercial, not his, but he just-- hey, Max? Are you listening?" you narrowed your eyes with concern. Maxwell hadn't looked at you once since you walked into the room.

"Hmph? Oh yeah." he murmured, turning back around to see if his tummy poked out even wearing the white jacket over the shirt. It didn't, which was a relief for him, but the padded shoulders of the jacket made him look huge and boxy. And it was just another thing he began to hate about himself.

"Are you okay?" you asked, biting your lip and walking towards him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and placed your hands over his tummy. He winced. "Max?"

"Yeah I'm fine." he said quickly, pulling out of your grip and buttoning up the suit jacket.

As he was about to leave the bedroom to start shooting the latest infomercial for his company, Black Gold Cooperative, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back. You popped open to the button of his suit jacket, freeing his tummy, not that you noticed. "You should keep the jacket undone," you hummed. "I like you in pink." You placed the palm of your hand on his chest and subconsciously began to brush him down, straightening his collar so he looked as smart as possible.

"I might get changed. Don't really like this outfit." Max muttered with a frown that made your heart ache.

"Wh-what? You loved it when you tried it on for me at the tailors the other week. And you look so good. Is there something going on?" you asked curiously as Maxwell stepped away from you.

He sighed in defeat (and slight frustration), before ripping the jacket off his body and letting it pool to the ground. "Look." he said, pointing his finger aimlessly at his tummy.

"What?" you asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Look." he repeated again, wiggling his ring clad finger this time.

"Maxie you gotta help me out here," you replied. "What am I looking at?" You noticed Maxwell's lips begin to quiver and tears prick his dark glazed eyes. He swallowed a lump in his throat that he didn't realise he had before slapping his hand over his face in shame and breaking down into a heaving, sobbing mess. "Oh Max," you cooed, taking him in your arms and guiding him over to your bed. You sat him down on slid next to him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest. "Baby what is it? You can talk to me."

"Nothing fits," he hiccuped, and you felt his tears dampen your own blouse. "I feel disgusting. I feel fake and. Disgusting. It fit two weeks ago- and now-"

"Max," you hushed him, running your fingers through his golden locks of hair. "It fits you perfectly. You look amazing, and I'm not just saying that because I'm your partner, I'm saying it because it really truly does. You look so handsome." you promised him.

"When I look in the mirror all I see is the old me. The me who wet the bed, who starved and stole and who couldn't save my mother from my father's horror and abuse. I moved here to escape it all, but it still haunts me. It follows me and I can't- I just want it to stop." Maxwell confessed, the tears now streaming down his face.

You had dated Max Lord for three years now, and you were both deeply in love with each other, but he had never quite opened up to you about his past trauma. You knew little things here and there but you never expected it to be so bad. Your boyfriend was suffering and you felt so helpless.

"I hate myself." he continued through a choked sob. He began to feel so constricted in his clothes, tugging his pink shirt. It felt like he couldn't breathe, and you saw the panic on his face.

"Hey, breathe with me. Let me help you." you whispered, cupping his face with your hand and wiping away his tears. He found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch and he followed your breathing. Inhale for seven seconds and then exhale. And repeat. It was working. As he followed your breathing, you gently began to undress him and as you discarded the garments of clothing he began to feel better.

Leaving him on the bed, you promised you'd be back in one second, quickly darting into the walk-in closet and bringing out some of his comfiest cashmere pyjamas.

"I- I can't," Maxwell panted. "I have to shoot the- the infomercial."

You shook your head, unfolding the pyjamas. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, okay? This is your infomercial. Not anyone else's."

"I can't let them down." Maxwell insisted, looking back at the clothes that were pooled on the floor. He had to be brave. For once he had to be brave.

"No," you said sternly. Maxwell looked at you with doe eyes. "I want you to change and get into bed. I'll be back in one minute, I'm just going to let the crew and the director know that we'll do this another day."

"Yeah but-" As always, Maxwell Lord was the most stubborn man on the planet. "I can do it. I can- I can-"

"Sweetheart," you whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead. "There's no shame in admitting when you can't do something. No shame in struggling. I love you all the same."

"You aren't embarrassed of me?" he sniffed wearily.

"How could I be? I feel like the luckiest person on the planet because I scored with you. You're the most amazing, gentle, compassionate guy I have ever met. Max, I wish the rest of the world got to see you the way I see you. You are perfect." you smiled and Maxwell felt his cheeks flush pink.

"I love you so much." he confessed, and you giggled, leaning in to brush your lips against his.

"I love you too," you smiled warmly, nudging your nose against his. "Get comfortable and I'll dismiss the crew. I'll bring a VHS up and we can watch a movie in bed too. Anything you fancy?"

Maxwell pondered for a second, trying to remember his wide selection of filmography he kept in one of the living room cabinets. He could always go with one of his favourites— a guilty pleasure he liked to indulge in when he craved comfort. "Breakfast at Tiffany's?" he asked with a hopeful glint in his eye.

"Oh yes, we haven't watched that one in a while! I'll make us both some herbal tea too," you exclaimed, handing him a comb so he could brush out all the hair product and reveal his natural waves. "We've been needing a movie day." you commented.

"Let's not do anything," Maxwell grinned. "For once. Let's just relax and cuddle and watch movies."

"I can't think of anything better." you smiled cheerily, pinching his cheek and giving him another kiss.

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[yunho-es]

Member/s: Wooyoung (ATEEZ)

Genre: soft

Warnings: swear words

Words: 2043

Before reading, I want you to know that I don't use any names or Y/n's because I know many people don't really insert their names, they read it as Yin 😂 I also write in first person pov because I think it's easier to read and imagine yourself in that situation

Beads of sweat slowly rolled down my forehead as I pulled out a piece of paper from my sleeve. I knew that the exam would be hard, but I wasn't expecting it to be this detailed. Thank God my friend made me write it all on a small piece of paper. At least I will get a positive grade. Of course he made me do it, he passed the school with those. Thankfully, he didn't go to medicine school. If I ever ended up on his surgery table, I would die.

Three more minutes until the end and one more question unanswered. The teacher noticed me shifting in my seat, but she knew I always get good grades. She finally stopped looking at me and gave her attention to a group of boys trying to switch their papers. I glanced one more time at the piece of paper and put it back in my sleeve. Just as I finished the answer, the bell rang. Half of the class groaned, probably because they didn't manage to finish in time. I took my backpack and left the paper with my name on the main table.

"Good job! Honestly, your exams are always my favorite to grade. I'm really happy to have a student like you."

"Thank you, Mrs Johnson. See you on Monday."

Once I got outside I noticed the sky already getting dark. It was just 5 pm and winter was already doing it's job; the roads were wet and slippery from mixed rain and snow and it must've been under 0 Celsius. Usually I walk home because it's not far away, but my school uniform, rain and cold weather didn't go well together. I was just about to call my roommate when I felt car lights on me, followed by a familiar voice.

"I think quicker than you do." Wooyoung smiled as he opened the door. "Get in please I don't want to spend the next week taking care of an annoyingly picky roommate. I have plans to get drunk and do something stupid."

"You do stupid things anyway without drinking. So save the money and the time. And oh, save me from embarrassment." I get in the car sticking my tongue out at him. "Did you cook anything? I'm starving."

"No, of course. I slept the whole day." I look at him, hoping to see a smile on his face that would give me a sign that he's joking. "Don't look at me like that, I was tired from the night shift. I'll take you to McDonald's." he drove out of the school parking.

"I don't want trash, Wooyoung. I want food." I groaned. He told me that he would try cooking something, but it's been a week and he didn't do anything. "Please buy some pasta and tomato sauce I'll make something."

"Honestly, I really don't feel like waiting. And McDonald's is f**king awesome!" his hand reached out to turn on the radio. "How can you not love the little purple box full of 12 golden beauties?"

It did sound good, but we haven't eaten any "real" food for a month and my stomach started to ache. Living with Wooyoung has its bad and good sides, the bad sides mainly being his laziness and stubbornness. Speaking of stubbornness, of course he took the left turn towards McDonald's.

"What do you want?"

"What a polite way to ask me. You've loosened up I see." I frown at him. He rolls his eyes dramatically and turns towards me with his whole body.

"Your Highness, what do you wish to consume today?"

"That's just too much."

"What the h*ll do you want? I'm taking 3 burgers and fries and you aren't touching them." the brown haired boy points his finger towards my face. I squint my eyes at him, then bite his finger. "Crazy woman."

"Hello, may I take your order?"

"Hello, yes. I'd like a..."

***

"Is this place good enough for the Queen?" Wooyoung spoke with his mouth full of fries and ketchup. We sat on the roof of his car on a parking lot near a river. The place is good enough for the Queen.

"Eat before you speak, what's wrong with you?" I laugh at him, seeing that he spilled the ketchup on his t-shirt. "No girl will want you like this."

"To be honest I'm not interested right now." he replied immediately.

I'd lie if I said that my heart didn't sink a bit. Whoever said that boys and girls can't be friends was right. One side always catches feelings, big or small. In my case, I believe it's a small crush. He's the only boy I hang out with, so that must be why.

"Why?" I allow myself to ask.

"I had a little crush on a girl but I had to give it up." he kept stuffing his mouth with food, trying to avoid the conversation.

"And...?" I look at him expecting more. But he keeps his mouth shut and folds the paper of the burgers in his hands.

"Are you thirsty?" Wooyoung offers a can of soda, still looking at his fingers.

"Yes, thank you." he opens the can for me, first taking a sip himself, then giving the green beverage to me. I drink the whole can almost immediately.

"You could've said earlier that you were thirsty, I had water in the car." his tone visibly changed. He sounded more serious now, as if he just wanted to go home and lock himself in the room. "Want another one?" he reaches for another can.

"I think I have one more sip here." I throw my head back trying to drink every single drop of the refreshing juice. I slowly started to lean back, forgetting that I'm not in the chair but on the roof of the car. "Sh*t!" I curse as I almost fall on the rocky floor.

"Hey!" Wooyoung quickly reacts and grabs my hands, pulling me towards him. All the empty cans rolled down on the floor, making loud noises. "You good?" he asks, eyes on my face.

His hands felt so warm around mine. I really didn't want to let go. "I'm good." I pull away, trying to get down to collect the cans.

"Leave the d*mn cans there. You almost fell down. Do you see those rocks down there? What if you hit your head? What would I do?"

"I'd pay to get your car cleaned from my blood, Wooyoung." I laugh, but when I notice that his face didn't change, my smile drops. "What's wrong? Why isn't it funny when I say something like this?"

"Behind all these jokes you have to understand that you are very important to me and I have a soft spot for you. If anything happened to you my life would stop. I'm a serious man behind all my sarcastic jokes. Please watch yourself, because I can't do it all the time. It takes a second to turn a peaceful situation into a disaster."

I stare at him with my mouth a little open. I'm surprised at his words, I never heard him talk like this. I manage to say a sorry, turning my head away from him.

After a few seconds of silence, which seemed like hours, he got down and picked up all the cans, then offered me his hand. "Be careful." I put my hand in his, slowly getting down on the floor. "What dumbass even puts these rocks on the parking lot?" he picks up a few of them and pushes them away, leaving the bigger and heavier ones where they were.

"I think because they don't want someone else to have the spot." I watch as he tries to move a few more rocks. "Leave it, you're gonna hurt yourself. Let's just go back home, please?"

"Alright." he leaves the rocks and opens the door for me. Then he proceeds to enter the car himself. "But just for the record, I could've moved those rocks." his lips curved in a small smile. He can't help himself.

***

It suddenly became quiet in the house. Wooyoung layed on the sofa, watching the TV, and I sat on the floor behind the coffee table with my back leaning on the sofa.

"I'm a bit disappointed that we didn't take any photos." I pouted, scrolling down my Instagram feed. He didn't respond. I kept quiet for a few more minutes, then broke the silence again. "Do you think you could pick me up tomorrow from school again?" again, no answer.

I turn around towards him and see that his eyes are closed. He fell asleep while watching the TV. I took a blanket from my room and layed next to him under it. It's not my first time napping with him, but most of the time he refuses. He says that he is a kicker in his sleep and that he doesn't want to hurt me.

The sofa in our living room is quite small so I have to basically lay on Wooyoung. Just as I close my eyes, I feel his hand around my waist, bringing me even closer to him. Now my head was on his chest and I was surrounded by his scent and warmth. This must be what heaven feels like. Usually when we sleep like this together, it takes us a few hours to fall asleep. Mainly because he can't stop making jokes and I can't stop laughing. But this is different. It's calm. It's beautiful.

I couldn't tell if he was asleep or just pretending. He held me close and rubbed my back slowly. "Wooyoung?" I tried calling.

"Hm?" he responds sleepily.

"Are you okay?" I look up at him. His eye are still closed, but his fingers are still drawing tiny patterns on my waist and back.

"Mhm." again, I receive a short answer. When I try to move and give him some space so he can sleep peacefully, he opens his eyes to look at me. "Please don't move. I want to sleep like this." one of his hands moved my hair from both of our faces. "Please?" he asked, almost whispering.

I have never witnessed this side of Wooyoung. His voice was different, his movements were different, his eyes were different. This is the Wooyoung I wanted for myself, but couldn't have him. It took me a few longer seconds to realise that we are staring at each other, doing nothing but breathing quietly. Once his hot breath fell on my lips I couldn't help but close my eyes and sigh. Right now, I hoped for one thing to happen.

"Why can't I have you like this every day?" his soft voice whispered. I try to speak, but as soon as I move my lips, I feel something soft brushing against them. My breath stops and I force myself to open my eyes. He's looking down at my lips as if thinking if the next step is smart to do. I allow myself a moment of bravery and I put my hands on his chest, getting closer to him. "F**k it." he mutters, finally putting his hands on my cheeks and pressing his lips against mine.

His lips must've been the softest thing to exist on this planet. I tried to move, but my body was frozen. I couldn't do anything, just lay and enjoy the softness and the warmth of his lips. He pulled away for a second, trying to say something, but when he didn't succeed, he went back to the older position. Then, again, he pulls away.

"You are so sweet. You taste like I always imagined." the red cheeked boy whispers, brushing the tip of his nose against mine.

"More, please." I manage to say. My lips and throat are dry, my mind is going crazy, and my stomach is witnessing fireworks. Wooyoung smiles, still not letting go of my cheeks. "Please." I get impatient.

He leans in again, this time kissing me with more passion. It stopped being sweet and soft, now only one word existed in my mind: more. And he happily listened.

[nova--michael]

Wow I'm actually talking about stuff again-

You can technically see this blog as my journal/diary in a way, where I just ramble about things in my life

And after re-reading Heartstopper, and reading Charlie's full perspective and his troubles,I have come to some realisations..

I don't want a partner but at the same time I do. I want someone to cuddle, kiss and hold hands with, maybe even more than that but you know..just not call it a relationship.. I always think that after my 2 previous relationships have ended in trauma, that I learned my lesson and will better myself mentally and that my BPD would calm down

But I've realised that I can't..i won't get better...no matter how much I want to rag it into my brain, I just...cant be a in a relationship or anything close to that...i can't be close with anyone as much as I would like too. After all I'm very touch starved. But...i just can't. I know getting close to anyone is gonna make my BPD foam at the mouth. And repeat the cycle that has been happen this and last year.

I need to focus on myself. My mental health, my issues, my problems. Especially after the police being at my house bc of my suicidal tendencies. I will go to the doctor soon, I promised that. But...i can't get better if my mental illness is clinging to anyone.

It is time I work on myself. I've tried in the past when I broke up with Spoods last year and I seemed to have made progress....but then me and Noah got together and that progress was thrown out of the window, because my BPD found my next favorite person to cling to.

I can't let it happen again with me getting too close to my friends on accident. I need to keep my distance not just for my sake but for theirs as well.

I wish it was different. I want to be close with people, I want to have a relationship....but I just can't. And that hard to take in..

But it is time I put my mental health before everything. It's time I get better. It will be hard and I know I will have my moment where I want to just to quit. But I have to just hang in there.

It may take months or even year's. But if it means I wouldn't be the way I am now, just being better, then I will try to achieve just that.

I am not trying to seek for support, I'm not trying to get pity, I want for people to just wait for me until I'm fully ready. Even if it takes months-years. But I know I have people that will wait until then. And those who don't, that's fine too

Because for the first time in so long, I'm gonna try and focus on myself