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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years ago

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Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 1

Masterlist / Playlist for reading

The f!reader is a servant to an English lord, when one day Eivor raids their village and takes the reader and others with her as prisoners.

For this chapter there is a big content warning for graphic violence, suicide, death, abuse, and blood. If you want to know what exactly happens regarding to specific triggers, feel free to message me and I'll let you know or give you a censored version.

Inspo Picture by @anaakeart

Chapter 1: Cutting Ties

You were kneading dough on the big wooden kitchen table when Henry rushed in, out of breath and red-faced from the cold outside. He was the head of the servants and had been tasked by your lord to prepare a feast for tonight. You had been cooking since before sunrise and everyone in the village was excited for tonight. Lord William’s wife and daughters were decorating the house and preparing an enormous bonfire in the center of the village. Delia, one of the daughters, was supposedly getting engaged tonight, forging important alliances with the neighbor shire.

“How are you holding up, Y/N? Everything according to schedule?” Henry asked, placing a friendly hand on your shoulder and squeezing it in reassurance.

You wiped your sweaty forehead with your upper arm before taking a knife to cut intricate little patterns into the dough, William’s emblem in the middle of them. This was the last loaf of bread, two dozen were already cooling off in the corner.

“Everything seems to be going well so far,” you said, “is the bonfire ready?”

Before Henry could answer, you heard loud sobbing in the corridor, accompanied by footsteps coming closer. The door sprang open and Delia stumbled into the kitchen, holding her cheek and crying inconsolably. Henry was quick to help her to a chair before dipping a towel into the water basin and holding it to her face.

“Did he hit you again?” he asked with a tenderness in his voice that made you look up at them. Delia had laid her hand on top of his and looked at him through a veil of tears, only managing to nod in response. She grabbed his linen shirt and pulled him closer, burying her face in his side.

Oh no. This wasn’t good.

“I told him I don't want to get engaged to some old, wrinkly toad. He screamed at me, saying I had no worth to him and the only way to put daughters to use was to marry them off. I couldn’t help myself, I said that I loved someone else and he struck me four times for it. I can’t be seen like this tonight!”

She was right. A bruise was already forming on her cheek and brow bone, no one would take a battered bride. William had always wanted sons. Because his wife hadn’t given him any, he let his anger out on her and his daughters as he pleased. He was a tyrant, but there was nothing anyone could do. He was the lord.

You used a wooden shovel to put the last loaf of bread in the stone oven, then you left the unlucky couple alone in the kitchen and tried to find Eda, Delia’s sister. You met her in the stables, her head pressed against the neck of her beautiful red mare. She was mumbling to her and the horse stood perfectly still, seeming to listen and provide comfort to the young woman. You announced yourself by clearing your throat and Eda turned to look at you. Her face was tear-streaked. Oh, what a day.

“Miss Eda?” you tried to keep a light tone. “Your sister isn’t well. I think it might be best for you to come and take a look at her.”

Eda gave you a solemn nod, rubbed over the mare’s soft nose in parting and followed you back to the kitchen. As you entered, you could see that Delia had stopped crying and Henry was applying a salve to her face. The air was filled with the scent of mint and lavender alongside the wonderful smell of freshly baked bread.

“Oh, sweet sister.” Eda rushed to Delia’s side and cupped her face in her hands. “What have you done?”

Delia pressed her lips together and Henry helped her out.

“She told Milord that she wouldn’t marry anyone for him. He was furious.”

“Damn this place.” Eda suddenly blurted out. She stood up and balled her hands into fists. “He can’t treat us like this, we’re his daughters, his own flesh and blood. He can’t just sell us off like cattle!”

You and Henry exchanged a quick glance, both holding your breaths. She was right, but you were not allowed to make any remarks of that kind. Delia started crying again, but Eda slammed her hand on the table in frustration. You knew the feeling too well.

Suddenly Henry straightened up. “Y/N, what’s that smell?”

Fuck. The bread.

Quickly you pulled it out of the oven, but it was already coal-black and hard as stone. You threw it on the table. The kitchen immediately filled with the stench of burned grain. How much could go wrong in one day? You couldn’t picture it getting any worse than this.

You were in for a surprise.

The door suddenly banged open and the small frame of Lord William, II. of his name, entered the kitchen.

“What is this? Are you all conspiring against me? Sitting around while I do all the work! Unforgivable!” he bellowed, pointing his fingers at each one of you.

“Delia, stop this madness, you ungrateful wench! You have the opportunity to honor this house and here you sit, moping and wailing! I should sell you to the Danish savages!”

Delia cried out in horror and ran out of the kitchen. No one dared to follow her.

William’s gaze fell on the burned bread on the table. His face became even redder than before, a thing you had not thought possible. With one step he was in front of you, grabbing your shoulder with icy, piercing fingers and shaking you.

“You useless, stupid girl! I do not pay you to burn my hard-earned grain! Do you know how much I am paying for this day? This will cost you your week’s earnings, mark my words!”

He let go of you and was about to turn to Eda when you answered: “There are two dozen perfect loaves with your emblem ready for this night. I was taking care of your wounded daughter.”

Before you had even the chance to regret this remark, he had whirled around and struck you with the back of his hand. He hit you so hard that you flew back against the shelves, tearing down vases of onions and carrots with you in a terrible cacophony of Eda screaming, clay breaking, and the ringing in your ears. His seal ring had caught your cheekbone, blood instantly beginning to flow down your face and neck. You were paralyzed for a second, struggling to breathe as you lay between the broken pots and vegetables and stared at William, still in disbelief at what had happened.

There was a flicker in his eyes, just the hint of realization that he had gone too far. He huffed and turned on his heel, then he was out the door.

Henry fell to his knees next to you and tried to pull you up to a seated position. You could feel the blood spreading downward through the fabric of your dress and warming your chest. Eda was still paralyzed, staring at you from the table.

“Miss Eda, a cloth, please!” Henry commanded. She caught herself and grabbed Delia’s cloth before rushing to your side. Henry gently dabbed the wet fabric on your cheek and while Delia began cleaning your neck and chest with another towel.

“Y/N? Can you hear me? How are you feeling?” he asked, trying to suppress the panic and concern in his voice. You looked at him and managed to croak: “I’m alright.”

“Good. This is going to need stitches, and quickly.” He stood up and grabbed a bottle of brown liquor from the top shelf, handing it to Eda. “Give her this. She’ll start feeling the pain in a minute.”

He rummaged around in a small chest next to the door and found a needle and thread. You took the opened bottle from Eda’s hands and quickly gulped down a good amount before it could start to burn in your throat. Your head started spinning almost immediately.

“I had to do this a lot when I was in the army. I’ll try to be quick.” He gave you an apologetic smile as he crouched down next to you, then he went to work.

Eda left at some point to look for Delia, taking the bread with her to give it to the pigs. Henry had helped you up and sat you on a chair in the corner before starting to clean up the terrible mess. You slowly came back to yourself and to reality, feeling dizzy from the blow and the liquor but glad about the fog in your mind finally clearing up.

After an hour or so, you got up and back to work, starting to assort the cheese and meat platters and sending after a few other servants to carry them to the table. Henry helped you at first, but then he had to go and make sure everything was set and ready. After there was nothing else to do in the kitchen, you went to your chamber to change into your more formal clothes.

A metal plate was hung on the wall next to your door to serve as a mirror. As you stood in front of it and held a candle up to your face, you didn’t recognize yourself. Your left eye was swollen almost completely shut, your cheek was a dark, almost black purple and the wound was held together by four stitches. It was still seeping blood occasionally, but when you wiped it off there was no real difference.

You took off your dusty, flour-stained linen dress and managed to put on your black dress with the white apron and bonnet. This evening would stretch forever and sleep seemed years away. Now you were really wishing for another swig of that cheap servant’s whiskey.

The feast began without any further incidents. Lord Wulfred from the shire north of yours had actually come and was sitting next to William and opposite your Lady at the head of the table. You stayed in the shadow, keeping an eye on the table and advising the other servants to get more wine or bring more cheese at times. Delia sat next to Wulfred, a man in his fifties, almost as wide as he was tall. His grey beard was yellow around his mouth and food got stuck in hit as he ate. His promised bride looked miserable. You could see she was holding hands with her sister next to her, trying hard to keep her composure.

As the meal came to an end and the table had almost vanished under a heap of gnawed off bones, crumbs, cheese rinds, and fruit stones, William rose from his chair, holding a bronze cup in his hand.

It got silent in a matter of seconds. Delia’s face was as white as snow, her fingers desperately clinging to her sister. Wulfred was gulping down beer and it was trickling out of the corners of his mouth into his beard. Poor Delia.

“I have assembled you all here tonight because there is a special occasion, one that calls for a second celebration very soon.” William was relishing in the attention of his guests and savoring every word. “As some of you may know, my eldest daughter Delia has now reached an age where there is more to do for her than sitting around all day and eating me out of house and home.” He laughed and all the men in his audience joined in, hollering and raising their cups in approval while the few women at the table smiled politely.

“It is for that very reason that Wulfred and I have come -”

There was a bang outside and you could hear men’s voices yelling, sounding alarmed. William’s face distorted into a sour grimace, angry about the ruined tension. Another loud noise, now downstairs inside the house, caused a few people to jump up from their seats.

“Everybody calm down. Henry, see what’s going on,” William said and motioned to the door. Henry gave Delia a short, but deeply meaningful look, then he vanished into the dark corridor. Now you could hear metal clanking outside and finally, someone rang the alarm bell. Everyone stirred now, some people running to the windows or pulling weapons.

Wulfred got up with difficulty and waddled to one of the windows as well. He stuck his head into the small frame and immediately snapped back around. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, an arrow pierced his head from the back, the bloody tip sticking out in front of his surprised eyes. He fell to the floor with a thump and let out a last huff, then he lay still and one of the women started shrieking in horror.

There was noise on the stairs now and suddenly Henry reappeared, his shirt torn down the middle and a gash on his shoulder. He shut the door behind him and called to the other servants who immediately pushed a big chest in front of it, barricading the entry for the moment.

“Milord, Vikings are attacking the village. Their leader is a colossal woman. It must be the She-Wolf from Norway.” He was breathing heavily and braced himself on one of the chairs to keep himself standing up.

Something was ramming the door in a slow, steady rhythm. The heavy chest moved ever so slightly with every new blow. You whistled to get the other servants’ attention and waved them over into your corner. You were terrified, but you tried to seem calm and collected so the others wouldn't panic.

“We are not their targets, we have nothing to our names. If you want to fight, fight. I will not risk my life for this tyrant. Everyone who wants to live can stay here with me.” No one moved. You nodded. “Thank the lord. Now let us sit down, fold our hands, and pray.”

With a deafening crash, the door exploded into the room and a tall, broad-shouldered woman with long blonde hair and gruesome black paint around her eyes jumped through the hole in the wood and over the chest. Four men followed, swords drawn. The she-wolf let her eyes wander over the faces in the room, the men with their daggers and swords, the women behind them and William in the middle. Then her gaze fell on you. You had told all the other servants to sit behind you, bow their heads and show their empty hands in their laps while you sat before them, willing to do whatever it took to protect your chosen family. You locked eyes with the Viking woman and your blood froze in your veins as she narrowed her eyes for a second, then she turned to William.

“Are you Lord William, master of this shire?”

Delia and Henry were slowly crawling along the wall toward you and managed to sit down next to you without getting too much attention. Their fingers were intertwined, tears were streaming down Delia’s face and Henry held her close as he watched the scene in front of you unfold.

“I am.” William proudly lifted his chin. “Who are you, Viking whore, to come into my house uninvited?”

The men behind the she-wolf laughed, but she just lifted an eyebrow and laid her hand on the handle of her sword. It was still sheathed. She seemed incredibly calm during all this.

“This is no longer your house. The decision is yours: die at the hands of my men or give up now and come with us as prisoners.”

The stare she gave William pierced him like a spear, making him writhe underneath its sting and making you hope to never become the target of her wrath.

William shook his head and huffed, then he lifted his sword.

“We will not cower before you, Viking whore. For England!” he bellowed and the other men repeated the war cry before storming towards the small group of warriors.

The woman unsheathed her sword in the blink of an eye and the men behind her jumped forward to meet the English guests. You saw the chance immediately. Slapping Henry‘s knee, you nodded toward the opening in the door. He alerted Delia and she silently agreed. Both of them crawled on all fours, staying low and going along the walls until they had reached the door and quickly climbed out. You wished them the best of luck and said a prayer in their wake. You couldn't leave the others behind. You would stay, no matter what happened, no matter how terrified you were.

The fight was quick, one of the Vikings caught a sword to his arm and bled from a mean gash but the others stayed unharmed. They killed their opponents in a matter of minutes and did not shy away from killing some of their wives who had also drawn knives in hopes of defending themselves. In the end, there was only your group and William’s wife with two other women left. And Eda, standing in a corner all alone.

The two women fell to their knees and swore to follow and to serve if their life was spared. Your Lady however stayed standing up, her chin raised and her eyes filled with terrible sadness and immense pain.

“I have served all my life. I have endured beatings, rape, and being treated like an animal.” Eda whimpered next to you as she realized what was about to happen. Her mother pulled a tiny dagger from her sleeve and held it gently in her hand. The she-wolf motioned for her men to wait.

“I will not bow my head to anyone else. This suffering has to end.“ She gave a loving, sorrowful look to her daughters, then she turned the dagger toward herself and drove it into her chest. Eda cried out and tumbled towards her mother, catching her mid-fall and cradling her head in her lap as blood began to pool on the floor.

The Viking woman turned to you and took a few steps in your direction. She looked down at you with a curious twinkle in her eye. You clenched your fists, asking God for assistance.

„And who are you?“ she asked, her deep voice suddenly much kinder. You forced yourself to breathe in and straighten up.

„We were Lord William‘s servants. We have no love left for him. We will go with you freely.“ You held out your empty hands for her to see. „I am not your enemy.“

She took one of your hands and pulled you up, not letting go of your hand as she stared into your eyes. You let out a shaky breath, but held her gaze.

„You're still English,“ she said before letting go of you and taking a few steps back, not turning from you. Of course she wouldn’t trust you.

„Bind them and take them to the ship.“ she ordered her men, then she pushed the heavy chest away from the door like it was nothing. She simply pulled the door frame, which was in shambles, out of the wall and let it fall to the ground. Then she was gone.

#eivor #lady eivor #ac valhalla #eivor x reader #lady eivor x reader #f!eivor #f!eivor x reader #eivor fanfiction #female eivor #ac valhalla fanfiction

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bitchfitch · 4 years ago

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just going to say this at the top content warnings for the following: murder, offscreen child neglect and death, comas, cannibalism mention, implied necromancy,

A Single Day Beneath The Hill

Arlo woke beside the man he gives his freedom for, warm and safe tucked up against Conall's side with their blanket tangled around his legs. Arlo sits up and stretches before pressing a kiss to Conall's cheek.

Conall doesn't stir, he very rarely does nowadays.

Arlo takes his time with their morning routine, always tending to Conall first. Brushing the mats from his fur as Arlo sang the bar songs Conall loved so much.

After he ran out of bar songs, Arlo would just ramble, narrating everything to his sleeping lover and editorializing on this and that as he went. It made him feel less alone as the weight of the world above bared down on their subterranean home.

He'd repeat his vows every now and then, when the open and unguarded door way called to him. He could leave, it said, he could walk out right now and see sunlight again, it would whisper. There were no barriers between him and the world beyond, just a maze he could probably still navigate with his eyes closed.

His magic was the only thing keeping Conall alive, but there was nothing else stopping him from heeding the often deafening call.

"In sickness and in health," He'd say more to himself than to Conall, as he changed the sheets on their bed, traitorous thoughts invading his mind as he struggled with the weight of caring for his husband, "Through the darkest times, I promise to stay by your side,"

Once Conall was tended too, Arlo would sit at his vanity on the other side of the room, brushing his own hair and putting on his make-up as he watched the world above through his mirror.

He'd send whispers out on the wind, waiting for someone to wander close enough. Conall had once compared him to fly paper, a sweet smelling snare.

Conall had been the only reason that it used to be a matter of judgment. Arlo used to look and listen, he used to hand out more boons than he did banes to those who sought him out. But that was before he needed every scrap of magic he could steal from those he caught.

Now he just levied banes on all that passed. Some would look like boons at first, so that the poor soul could go and lurer more closer, but most he would kill quickly. Conall didn't know about the change yet, and he never would if Arlo could help it, but his still, Conall wouldn't want people to suffer, even if Arlo did find a scrap of entertainment in it.

Sometimes he'd get lucky, and a traveler would arrive early, or two, or even a whole group, would arrive on the same day. Sometimes weeks would pass between their arrivals.

Most of the time he got one or two a week.

Eventually, a man with a bundle in his arms stumbled into the clearing, frantic and driven by grief wrought madness as he fell to his knees and spoke his woes. Arlo only listened enough to pick what sort of bane he'd levy.

The child in the bundle was long dead by neglectful hands, but couldn't the spirit of the hill reunite a father and son? Couldn't the spirt see the his repentance? Couldn't it save him from the consequences of what he's done?

There was a time Arlo's heart might have ached for the man and his child, but that time was long passed.

Arlo wove his magic around the man's soul as he sobbed and screamed his grief, tying the two of them together like he had with so many others, but before he could pull the noose tight, he hesitated.

"Please, my wife- she never woke up after our son was born. Shes in a coma, she- I would never forgive myself of it was my fault she never got to meet our son," he held the bundle tight to his chest as he sobbed, bent forward on his knees in the dirt,

Arlo's eyes flicked to where Conall slept, and he sighed.

Instead of burning the mans blood, like he had allowed his son's to in that car, he pulled the threads of his madness taught until he jolted upright, crying tears of joy over the still bundle that his bleeding brain now interpreted as being a healthy, crying infant, squirming in it's swaddle.

The man keeled over a few moments of joy later.

The magic Arlo could harvest from his soul drifted to him through their connection, a trickle that held promise despite its weakness. Arlo grinned as he held the power tight in his chest and lept up from his seat, prancing across the cold stone floors to climb on top of Conall. He straddled his broad waist as he pressed his hands over his beloved's poisoned heart and passed the magic he'd taken into it, this extra little bit being just enough to overpower Conall's curse.

Arlo's tail flicked and his ears pricked, already grinning as Conall stirred, his weary eyes blinking as one of his hands went to rest on Arlo's waist.

"Good morning," Conall smiled as he looked up at his husband, too weak to do much more than brush his knuckles against the soft downy fur on Arlo's cheek, "Did I miss anything interesting, kid?"

"Not really," Arlo nuzzled into his palm, they only had a few moments before Conall would sleep again, "But one of the travelers had a book in the bag they left as an offering, would you like me to read it to you while you sleep? Its a romance,"

"A steamy one?" he grimaced, already sensing the coyness oozing from Arlo,

"Of course, because I know how much you just Love those," he wraggled his brow, teasing his lover,

"just skip the worst of it," Conall chuckled as his eye lids began to droop, "Come here," he sighed, pulling a willing Arlo in for a kiss before sleep could reclaim him again.

The kiss was short and light, and painfully familiar, far too easy melt into and far too brief to really enjoy.

"I love you," Arlo whispered into the space between them as he pulled away when he felt Conall's grip on him go lax again. Leaving him trapped once more on the edge of life and death

Leaving his husband to wipe at silent tears as he stood from their bed.

This was always the hardest part, the brief moments of happiness made the following loneliness cut deeper, and the silence of a space that once felt like a home ring louder.

The doorway called to him everytime Conall fell asleep again. Reminding him that he could end this heart ache with a single step pass its threshold.

It reminded him of the many times that Conall had said it would be ok. That Arlo didn't have to do this. That he loved Arlo too much to ask it of him. That he could leave and let Conall die, and Conall would still love him.

Arlo tried his best to keep his tears silent, Conall could still hear him while he slept, and he always did hate it when Arlo cried.

He had to take care of the bodies, they scared away prey better than anything else could. It didn't matter that he wanted to just curl up and mope, he couldn't risk losing even a single traveler.

Arlo stood in the center of the room and focused on the world above, letting the ground part so that the corpse could fall through. A grim part of this process, but Arlo still needed to eat, and the animals in the forrest had all learned to avoid his hill.

The broken bodies of the father and his child bubbled through the ceiling before thwumping down to the hard stone floor with a smack.

The child had been spared from the worst of it, still wrapped in its fathers arms. Arlo pulled it from his grasp and held it like he'd seen mothers and fathers less distressed than that one do.

The child had probably been dead for weeks.

Still he cooed to it and held it gently as he picked through the father pockets for anything interesting before sending him to the freezer to be cooked later.

Arlo had always been a bit indecisive about kids, he never really had the chance to spend enough time around one to form an opinion one way or another, but Conall had always wanted a big family. He had even already picked out the eight names he wanted to use, and when he had rambled while guarding Arlo he spent hours describing the home he wanted to build for this theoretical family.

Each of the kids would have their own rooms, but every room would have big bunk beds so that if they were anything like Conall and his siblings they could sleep together and watch over each other through the night.

He had once mentioned how cold the home he grew up in was.

The kitchen would be open to the main room so that Conall could see his family while he cooked, and the pantry would always be stocked with enough that when the kids brought their friends over no one would leave hungry.

He had once mentioned how scarce food had been.

The yard would be massive and wooded, with swings and at least one tree fort, with a creek running through it.

He had once mentioned that the woods behind his childhood home had been the only place he felt safe.

Arlo bounced the child gently in his arms like he'd seen happier families do. Like he dreaded Conall might never get to do.

When Conall woke up for good he'd be sure to give him the family he wanted. Eight children, starting with this one.

#arlo may be the worst person ever but he loves his guard dog a lot #ask to tag #bc like #ive given up #if your on my blog youve seen the pinned post #this is the content i make and if you dont like seeing it you can unfollow #tbh like only 3 people read my non fanfic writing anyways so it doesn't matter that much

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

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Stars and Stones

Pairings: Sokka x Reader

Summary: You were lucky enough to find a man you truly loved in what little was left of the Southern Water Tribe but not telling anyone about it leads to some problems when a marriage is arranged with someone else.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4700

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“How many stars do you think are really up there?” You asked Sokka as the two of you lied side by side on a seal-skin blanket, staring up at the night sky. The stars always shone with brilliance when you were away from the lights of the village but something about tonight made them look even more dazzling than usual.

Sokka’s arm was bent so that his head was resting on his hand and you lied on his bicep, your body practically lying on his. You felt him shrug beneath you, “Probably millions.”

“They’re beautiful.” You commented, eyes locking on a particular cluster of stars that had a few specks of pink and blue in it.

“None of them are as beautiful as you.” He complimented.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re so lame! That’s the oldest line in the book!”

Sokka sat up just enough to look down at you with an offended look, “I compliment you and you call me names? Not even a thank you!” He scoffed, his voice raising in pitch.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You laughed, leaning in and trying to peck him on the lips, but he kept squirming away.

"No! No! It's fine, I see how it is." He teased while wiggling away from you, trying to sound serious but his voice raised a few octaves, like it always did when he was joking around.

Finally, you ended up having to nearly roll on top of him and hold his head between both of your hands. He quit struggling when you squished his tan cheeks together and exhaled exasperatedly through his nose while cooking an eyebrow. You giggled and finally claimed that kiss he'd been jokingly avoiding, “Thank you.”

Sokka’s eyes stayed closed for just a short moment after you pulled apart, savoring the moment, before you settled back into your old spots. This time, you snuggled a little closer into the thick, soft coat covering his chest and using it to warm the exposed skin on your face. Even in the spring, it was never warm enough to be truly comfortable in the South Pole.

The two of you lied like that for a while, just taking in each other’s presence, feeling each other's chests rise and fall with each breath. If you hadn't both been wearing your thick coats, you probably could have heard his heartbeat.

What you and Sokka had was strange but perfect. Your parents had been close personal friends with Chief Hakoda and his wife so when you and Sokka were born around the same time, your mothers pretty much had it decided that you’d be friends. Much to their excitement, you and Sokka became closer than they ever could have imagined. You weren't just friends, you were best friends, soul mates. At first you both insisted that it was a platonic soulmate situation, that you were meant to love and support each other in everything from a friend-like position. But that all changed a few months ago when you and Sokka went fishing.

Katara would usually go with him but she'd gotten sick and their grandmother didn't want him going alone so you joined. While you were out, though, a storm had surged in without warning and the swells toppled Sokka out of the boat and into the freezing waters. You jumped in and saved his life, setting up camp in an ice cave you stumbled upon before managing to drag a very weak and sick Sokka into it. You were a waterbender but knew close to nothing about how to harness your powers. All you were able to do was pull the water off of his body and out of his clothes but it didn’t stop the damage that had already been done.

The next day, you managed to get him back to the village where the healer had fixed him up. After that night though, everything had changed between the two of you. A thickness hung in the air between you two that had never been there before, one that you initially attributed to a sudden feeling of gratitude and protectiveness but it wasn’t long before you both realized it was so much more than that.Your jokes teasing each other about how ugly the other one was became less and less frequent. Your little friendly side hugs turned into full fledged embraces. Some compliments were even exchanged occasionally. And then, finally, one day, you kissed and everything changed. Things were unofficial but neither of you ever felt like it needed to be. Your relationship was never necessarily a secret but you also weren't those most affectionate couple in public so most people in the village didn't notice a big change. Nobody really knew that the two of you were together but neither you nor Sokka cared much because you two knew and that was enough.

Sokka was grateful for the thick fur covering both your chests so that you couldn't hear his heart thudding out of control right now. He shifted a little, grabbing something in his pocket, "Hey, Y/N?" He began, but just as soon as he started, his confidence completely fell.

"Mhm?" You hummed, turning to look at him.

You were so beautiful it almost hurt him. Sokka’s chest tightened every time he got to look into your eyes like this and truly appreciate just how stunning you were. And just like that, he let go of the small object and dropped it back in his pocket. "I - uh - I just wanted to say that I think you're perfect."

Your cheeks flushed bright pink and you giggled adorably, "I think you're perfect, Sokka." You kissed him one more time, this time on the cheek.

"We should probably head back." You said, reluctantly pushing yourself off Sokka.

His arms shot out to pull you back in, "No," he whined, "Not yet!"

You allowed him to pull you down and you crashed back onto his body, your arms wrapping around his torso, "My mom said that she wanted to talk tonight. She said that there was something important." You said important like it was something spooky and ominous.

Sokka’s eyebrows furrowed, "What is it?"

You shrugged your shoulders, finally standing up, "No idea. She just said we needed to talk."

You reached down to help pull Sokka to his feet. He dusted the powdered snow off his pants, "That doesn't sound terrifying at all." He noted sarcastically. His face dropped into something a little more serious, "Did it… did it sound like something may have happened to our dads?" He asked nervously.

Your dad had gone off to fight with Hakoda and the other men in the tribe three years ago and nobody had heard from them in a long time. It was hard to keep your mind from wandering to the worst case scenarios but you shook your head, "I don't think so. My mom's voice didn't have that kind of tone. But I guess we'll find out…" Now that the thought was in your head, you found it difficult to shake and it was all you could think about for the short walk back to the village.

Tents were scattered around the familiar tribal village. The woman who lived beside you was out front, smoking fish over the fire to preserve for the next storm that was sure to hit any day now.

Your tent looked like every other, it felt like, save for the markings painted in black onto the flap that covered the opening that your mother had painted on, some of the old symbols that her grandmother had shown her from back when the Southern Water Tribe was a thriving nation, back before it had been brought to the brink of extinction by the Fire Nation. You too, always thought they were beautiful and you could only hope to see the war end in your lifetime so you could help rebuild your tribe.

“Let’s see what’s going on.” You muttered out loud, though mostly to yourself, as you swept aside the painted hide. Sokka followed you into your fairly spacious tent to see your mother with a man you didn’t know and a boy around your age.

It appeared as if your mother and the unknown man had been in conversation because they stepped away from each other ever so slightly when you and Sokka entered. You looked strangely at the new man and the boy who looked very similar to him. Both appeared to be water tribe but they were nobody that you had ever seen in the South (and you knew almost everyone in the small group that existed now). “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” Your mother began before glancing behind you, watching as Sokka came to enter as well, “Oh, and Sokka.” She added, her voice falling slightly, as if his presence was somehow a nuisance, which was something that had never been an issue before. Your mother usually loved him.

“You wanted to talk?” You asked, wondering who these men were and why the hell they were in your home.

Your mom took a deep breath in and wrung her mitten covered hands together, “Well, um, maybe it’s best if Sokka stepped outside.” She nodded to the door, trying as politely as possible to encourage Sokka to leave.

“Why would Sokka need to leave?” Nerves began to rise as your brows furrowed. You didn’t know where this was going but you didn’t have a great feeling about it.

She swallowed hard, nodding in acceptance and resigning to the fact that Sokka would stay, “This is Hato and his father Tekah. They’re both from the Northern Water Tribe.”

“The Northern Water Tribe?” You asked in surprise. You’d never met anyone from… well anywhere other than the Southern Water Tribe, other than the Fire Nation soldiers that raided your village years ago, but you hardly counted that as ‘meeting’ anyone.

Tekah leaned forward ever so slightly in a small bow which his son mirrored, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/N.”

“Finally?” You cocked an eyebrow, shooting a glance to your mother.

She sighed and looked at the ground before clasping her hands together nervously, “Your father has been gone for over three years now, Y/N. You’re getting older and the world is getting more and more dangerous. I need to make sure that you’re safe. So Tekah and I have been speaking for some months and we’ve arranged for you to marry his son, Hato.”

You nearly choked on air. “What?!” You and Sokka exclaimed simultaneously.

You were in utter shock and disbelief that your mother could do this, “You arranged my marriage without telling me?! How could you do this?”

The look in your mother’s eyes was pleading but stern, “Y/N, I know I probably should have told you sooner-”

“Pfft, yeah!” You scoffed, interrupting her.

“But…” She paused, her eyes scolding you for your intrusion, “This is for your safety and security. Your father told me to protect you at all costs when he left and this is what it takes. Hato is a very pleasant young man and I think you will really grow to love him. I know I did the same with your father! But I think you and Hato would get along very well. He’s a waterbender too!”

You looked at the Northern Water Tribe boy, who stood there silently. His tanned cheeks were flushed red with awkwardness and embarrassment but his face remained relatively neutral. His blue eyes were piercing and his bone structure was sharp. His dark hair hung down, about jawline level, accentuating his sharp features. Despite his angular features, he still looked very kind. He really was an attractive young man and, under different circumstances, you could have possibly considered the possibility of dating him. But these weren’t different circumstances.

You looked to Hato, “Look, Hato, you are a very attractive guy and you seem very nice so please take no offense to this but I will not be marrying him!” You told your mother firmly, keeping your voice calm but final, “I appreciate the protection effort but I am a waterbender and more than capable of protecting myself.”

“I heard that you are a waterbender, only one of two that still exist down here. There are many waterbenders in the North and you can be trained to be a healer with the rest of the women.” Tekah tried to make this sound like a perk but all you could hear was with the rest of the women.

An undignified tcha left your mouth, “I don’t want to be told by some guy how I’m allowed to use my powers! I want to fight!”

Your mother looked unamused by your insolence and raised her chin, looking down on you, “Y/N! This is non-negotiable. Tekah is a very highly regarded member of politics in the Northern Tribe and Hato is one of their strongest warriors. Not only will you live in a safer place, but you will live a life where you will want for nothing!”

“Nothing except free-will!” You yelled, gesturing to the Water Tribe boy, “You talk about safety and security and wanting for nothing but what I want is a choice! I don’t even know this boy!”

“But you will get to know him. And you will grow to love each other.” Your mother insisted. She looked up to Tekah with an apologetic look. When you glanced at the older man, you were surprised to see that he didn’t actually look angry at you. If anything, he almost looked as if he understood. Perhaps he was forced into an arranged marriage that he didn’t want to be in himself, you pondered.

Tekah gestured kindly while he chimed in, “I understand your reservations, Y/N. But please be assured that Hato is a wonderful young man who can provide for you. You can come live in the Northern Water Tribe in a thriving community and live happily with my son. You can always come back and visit whenever.”

You felt cornered and attacked. What were you supposed to say? If you said yes and agreed to marry Hato, you’d be forever miserable, leaving behind Sokka, the only man you’d ever really loved and forced to move to the opposite side of the planet. If you said no, though, then you’d be directly disobeying your mother as well as disrespecting Hato and Tekah. But this wasn’t as simple as refusing to do the dishes or laundry. Refusing this marriage had serious implications on the honor of yourself and your family.

“Just because you had an arranged marriage doesn’t mean that I have to, mother!” You insisted, your voice raising with anger.

Your mother looked furious with you now, “You are embarrassing yourself and your family. We all have to make sacrifices for the better good.”

“The better good of what?” You scoffed, “Did you get a good deal for me or something? Am I worth a lot of goats?” When your mother didn’t respond, you looked over to Hato, “What about you? You’ve been awful quiet. What do you think about all of this?”

The boy looked shocked that you asked what he thought about the arrangement, “I, um, I am honored that your mother has chosen to trust me with her daughter.” Hints of obligatory respect and neutrality were all over his tone and you could sense it.

“But do you want to marry me?” You pushed, needing an honest answer because you were pretty damn sure that it was no.

“Our parents have arranged this marriage-” He stammered, trying to formulate a response that would please everyone but you didn’t give him a chance to finish.

“Do you want to marry me?” You asked a little harder this time.

His eyes were wide from your onslaught of honesty and his jaw twitched as he tried to formulate words but failed repeatedly. Hato glanced up at his father, who returned the gesture with a non scrutinizing gaze. “I would love to get to know you better.”

Hato finally landed on a response that he felt was honest enough while still pleasing your parents. You sighed out, “See? He doesn’t want to marry me either. Why would anyone want to marry someone they don’t know?”

“Because they understand that survival is better than individual wants.” Your mother sounded exhausted with this argument, “Why is this even such a big deal to you? You’ve never shown interest in a potential husband here.”

You peered over your shoulder to see Sokka standing behind you. His blue eyes were wide with shock and fear that he was about to lose you. Sokka couldn’t believe this was happening. Neither of you ever thought that not announcing your relationship would have any real repercussions until right now but neither of your parents seemed like the arranged marriage type. While they did happen in Water Tribes, not all marriages were arranged and many people got to choose who they loved.

In your desperate silence, Tekah whispered to his son, “Why don’t you give it to her.”

Hato dug in his pocket and pulled out a small necklace. A round blue charmed that was hand carved with intricate designs was looped into a blue cord. Your eyes widened when he extended it to you, knowing exactly what it was. “I made this for you.” Hato announced with a small proud smile at his work.

You took the necklace and inspected the beautiful carving he’d done, “This is beautiful. And you are very talented but-”

“But she can’t marry you!” Sokka interjected suddenly.

Everyone in your tent looked to him, almost all of you having forgotten he was even there. “Sokka! This is none of your concern!” Your mother scolded him, completely shocked that he would have made such an outburst. Sure, he was usually goofy and talkative but his parents raised him to know when he should and shouldn’t speak.

“Actually, it is…” He admitted quietly. He shot a quick look at you, your eyes meeting in a moment of stillness before he stood up straighter and stronger, appearing to try assert himself as having some form of authority. “I want to marry her.”

Your eyes widened with shock. That was something that hadn’t really been discussed between the two of you. Of course, you never wanted to break up with him and you were both getting to the age where marriage was inevitable. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him but nobody had ever actually officially brought up the idea of marriage.

“What?” You, your mother, Tekah, and Hato all exclaimed at the exact same time.

“What is this, Y/M/N?” Tekah asked, his first hint at actually being irritated during this exchange.

Your mother’s eyes narrowed at you and Sokka, “I don’t know but someone better explain quickly.”

Sokka took an audibly deep breath behind you before stepping up to stand directly beside you. You looked down and watched as his hand weaved itself into yours. When you turned back up to look at your mother, her eyes were still upset but her mouth was opened slightly in surprise. “We’ve been friends our whole lives but we’ve been more than that for a while now and I love her!”

This wasn’t the first time you guys had told each other you loved each other but you'd never felt more power or sincerity behind the words. These weren't just words he said to you but this was an act of defiance against elders for you, an out-in-the-open declaration of love and a promise to spend forever with you.

"You guys are together?" Your mother asked, more shocked than angry this time.

You held onto Sokka's arm and nodded, "Yes. And I love him too, Mom." You shifted attention over to Hato and his father and gave them a sincere look of apology, "I am so sorry that you came all the way down here but I won't marry you. I can't."

Realizing the beautiful engagement necklace Hato had carved for you was still in your grasp, you left Sokka’s side to press it into Hato's palms, "This is beautiful but it's not for me. Find the girl it's meant for."

Hato's eyes moved from where your palms were clasped together and, if he was being honest, there was no spark at your touch. His father had told him that you were beautiful (according to your mother's letters at least), and they were far from wrong, but he couldn't deny that he had no actual desire to marry you either, especially not after seeing that you and Sokka were in love. "I am not one to go back on my word. If you wish to be married, then we will be. But I'd rather have taken a wasted trip across the globe than live knowing that I'm responsible for the unhappiness of two people who were meant to be together. " He announced to the group of you, pocketing the necklace.

“Thank you.” You whispered, nearly tearing up at the overwhelming gratefulness for this man. You stayed standing there before your mother and Tekah, gaze cast downward but leaving yourself to their mercy, though you had no intention of backing down from your decision.

Hato turned to his father, “Please, father, let’s just return home. Please don’t make her do this.”

Tekah straightened up, his lips in a tight line. His face was straight but strong and definitely not looking too happy anymore while he glared down at you and then to Sokka and finally to his son. Finally, he sighed, “I am proud of you son. You’ve chosen to put the wellbeing of others ahead of your own and, while I don’t appreciate the wasted trip, I do appreciate your empathy. And I too understand the pain of having to marry someone that’s not the one you love.” He confessed sadly. Hato looked slightly surprised at the confession but stayed silent.

Tekah looked over at your mother and bowed slightly, “The arrangement is off. Thank you very much for being willing to trust my son with your daughter, regardless.”

Your mother’s face finally softened, seeing that neither Tekah nor Hato were angry. “I offer my deepest apologies for this entire incident,” She began low and seriously before the frown lines on her face gently softened, “But the last thing I want is for my daughter to be unhappy. Had I known about this relationship,” She gestured between you and Sokka, “I would never have propositioned this arrangement.”

“I understand. We wish the best for you.” Tekah nodded a cordial farewell before gesturing for his son to follow him out of your tent.

Before they could totally leave, Sokka nudged Hato’s arm. The Northern boy stopped and looked over before Sokka gave him a small grateful smile, “Thank you, man.”

Hato cracked a crooked smile, “I can tell you really love her. Treat her well. My best wishes for you both.” He patted Sokka on the shoulder in that endearing boyish way and then shot you a brief smile as well before exiting the tent behind his father, leaving you and Sokka with your mother.

It was quiet for a mildly uncomfortable moment as everyone took in the events of the past twenty minutes. You breathed in heavily, realizing that you had pretty much just agreed to marry Sokka.

“Y’know, I actually had something to give you.” Sokka reached into his pocket, breaking the momentary silence, “I had this whole thing planned out where I meant to give it to you under the stars earlier and it was going to be all romantic but then, I don’t know, I guess I just got nervous. But I want to give it to you now.”

His hand slowly opened to reveal a little carved stone around a cord, much like the one Hato had just presented to you. Only, this time, the symbol was totally unique. On a thin light blue stone, there were three curved “lines” extending from the center in a partial spiral, almost like three little octopus tentacles. Instead of there being lines, though, there were three small carved out circles that decreased in size as they went further out. A single purple crystalline bead of amethyst was placed on either side of the main stone and then a slightly smaller clear gemstone that you guessed to be some sort of quartz sat on the outer sides of the amethyst.

Gingerly taking the necklace from Sokka’s hand and holding it in your own. You almost couldn’t breathe. Your mouth was open in utter admiration at the beautiful object that had been created for you. Even with all the little imperfections, like how the amethyst and quartz beads weren’t totally smooth, it was absolutely the most perfect gift anyone had ever given you.

Sokka’s hand reached behind his head to scratch nervously as he watched you stare at the betrothal necklace, “I know it’s not totally perfect but this was the best one that I made. And believe me, I made, like, a ton of these that all failed and-

“It’s perfect, Sokka.” You interrupted, nearly choking back tears. “Are-are you sure you want to do this?”

Sokka shrugged, “Well, I did just crash your arranged marriage and spend a month making probably about 30 failed stone carvings, which are pretty hard by the way, so, yeah, looks like you’re stuck with me.” He said with a sarcastic air of flippance. He suddenly looked nervous but hopeful, his hands rubbing together in front of him, “Do you accept?”

You nodded with a large grin, “I do!” You threw your arms around him, clenching the necklace securely in your hand as you held him tight. Sokka’s arms wrapped around your waist and he held you like he was about to lose you, lifting you off the ground. You leaned down and kissed him deeply but stopped when your mother cleared her throat. Sokka set you back down and you both turned to your mom, who stood there, finally looking almost happy for the first time tonight.

She stepped towards the two of you, “Sokka, you are a wonderful young man. While I wish you two had been open about your relationship so we could have avoided this whole situation, I am honestly glad that of all the people that could be marrying my daughter, it’s you.”

Pride and honor welled up in Sokka’s chest. Even though he was the chief’s son, he’d never felt like anyone had taken him seriously for anything. But this, right now, having your mom tell him that she trusted him with you, the most important thing in either of their lives, was the greatest honor he could think of.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. You were actually going to marry Sokka! “Oh! Do you mind?” You held up the necklace to Sokka.

“Of course!” He took it and clasped the necklace around your neck. You turned and adjusted the pendant so it was lying flat against your clavicle.

“How does it look?” You asked, doing an adorably little shoulder shimmy to show off the jewelry.

Sokka wanted to chuckle at your cuteness but found himself unable to, too swept up in the beauty that was you, but even more so now with that necklace around your neck, “Like it was meant to be.” He smiled genuinely.

“I can’t wait to show it off to the tribe tomorrow!” You held the pendant gently and did a little happy dance, your voice almost a squeal. When you stopped, you leaned your body against Sokka’s and caressed his face gently with your hand, “But I can’t wait to marry you more.”

Sokka picked you up and nearly threw you over his shoulder, “I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

You laughed and squealed as he ran out of the tent towards the center of the camp, where a few people were still milling around before going to bed, yelling, “I want to tell everyone now! Hey guys! She said yes! We’re getting married!”

#sokka #sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka imagine #sokka fanfic #sokka blurb #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #sokka drabble #atla fics #stars and stones

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stefliv · 3 years ago

Text

"Flat 1, right?"

Propmt: Write a story that takes place in the same building but in two very different time periods.

I got the prompt from https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/ , when I was actually submitting to writing contests. Thought to share, just to put it out there.

To avoid any confusion: Bold = Past residents , Not Bold = Current residents of the building.

Um, Idk about warnings. Maybe just one; sensitive topics, mostly about sterility and infertility.

Katherine stood there, all sweaty and covered with mud, proud of herself. The garden looked better than ever and you couldn’t even know that once the ground was covered by weeds. She sighed happily as she stepped inside to take of her dirty clothes.

“Hey, honey! Sorry, I didn’t hear you coming in, I was hanging the clothes”. Stella greeted her boyfriend with a sweet kiss on the lips.

“It will be hard, but I think I’ll get over it”, George said sarcastically.

It was nice, finally having a place of their own. No parents, no younger siblings and most importantly, no noise. It was just them with each other. Stella sat next to him on the couch, while George nuzzled in her neck.

“Do we have anything for lunch?”

“Um, actually no, I didn’t manage to cook, I just came back from work too”, Stella said.

“It’s okay baby, we ‘ll just order something. How’s pizza?”

She smiled at him as a sign of yes. She couldn’t believe how in love she was with the man in front of her. And living together was really easy. Sure, it was only one month now, but she could tell it would work.

Ding!

Peter rushed to the oven, as his wife entered from the backdoor.

“Peter, it smells amazing in here, what did you make?”

“Oh, you know darling. Just my favorite thing of all time”

“So, we’re having pizza”, Katherine chuckled as she watched her husband pulling the pizza out from the oven, with a pair of oven gloves on his hands and a big smile on his face.

“Yes! But it’s homemade and all the ingredients are fresh, including the tomato sauce, from your lovely garden. How’s that going, Kate?”

Katherine rumbled about the finished garden to him. That place was like a gem inside the city and that garden made her feel like they were still in the countryside. It only took her three months to make it just how she dreamt it. The vegetables were planted first and after they settled in their new home, the flowers took their place in every little spot Katherine good find bare. The colorful palette of the garden matched the outside of the house. A little white detached house, with a small garden in the front and a bigger one in the back. The two gardens connected from the side of the building with a stone path.

The truth was that they have spent a lot of money to start their life together. They needed money for the first rent, internet, water, electricity, heat and the list could go on and on. So, when, George decided it was a good idea for them to buy a car, they had their first fight in their new apartment. Yes, they both worked, but Stella was a part – time waitress who still struggled to get her degree and George’s salary alone couldn’t carry them. After a long argument, a compromised was made to buy a used car, only because Stella’s parents agreed to help financially.

They entered the garage with their fresh new car – well, not really new, but you know. Stella closed the black gates of the beige building, as George parked the car next to someone else’s.

“Who do you think has this car?”, he playfully asked pointing to the car on his right.

“I don’t know, honey, and I don’t care. You shouldn’t either.”

“Oh, come on, I want to get to know our neighbors!”, Katherine pout.

“No, you want to gossip and I’m not encouraging that”, Peter said as he continued to read his newspaper, unbothered.

Katherine really wanted to meet the couple that just moved across the street. They’d arrived earlier that week and they had this amazing car parked outside their door. What did they do for a living? Why did they move? Did her husband got a new job in the city, as Peter did? Or did they move because they wanted a change of scenery?

“It’s not gossip, Pete. I am socially curious. And a friendly person. I’m going to give them a freshly made lemonade as a welcoming gift and invite them over for dinner. Is Saturday good?”

Peter looked his wife with adoration. He asked her too much; moving to the city, leaving her family and friends behind, while he hunted this big job. He was so lucky that he managed to find this house for her, with a garden. She loved nature, but he should have known she would ‘ve felt lonely at some point.

“Saturday sounds great, Kate”

“For real? I was thinking to have the girls over for drinks on Saturday”, Stella frowned. Maybe she frowned a little bit too much on purpose, to win him over.

“Oh, I see. Come here you sad little baby.”. George wrapped her into a warm hug and kissed her cheek.

“What do you say, we make a little welcoming party on Saturday? Not something big, we both invite our friends over and maybe tell the neighbors they could come too.”

“Isn’t some sweet grandma living in the basement?”, Stella asked him.

“I am no judge. If she feels young and wants to mingle, she can come.”

Saturday night came quickly and the place looked amazing. George really outdone himself with the décor; some led lights and a couple of mini neon signs he found online and the living room was screaming “It’s party time”. Stella, of course, got the drinks and a variety of snacks to pass around all night.

“Hello Mary, hello Jack. Welcome to our home”, Katherine welcomed her guests with a wide, genuine smile.

“Thank you, Katherine, we really appreciating you having us over.”

“Please, -”, she replied to the tall blonde woman, “- call me Kate. This is my husband, Peter, I don’t believe you’ve met yet”

“Oh, we crossed paths on Thursday for a minute.”, Jack chuckled giving his hand to Peter.

“Yeah, I got to tell you Mary, you got yourself a man who knows his cars. He couldn’t shut his mouth about the beauty parked across the street.”, Peter shook his guest’s hand laughing heartedly.

It was refreshing having people over again. He may wasn’t used to be around a lot of people, but after Kate, he couldn’t imagine the loneliness again. Her family hugged him like he was one of their own, and when he asked for Kate’s hand, cheers erupted through the house. The whole block heard them that night and the celebration lasted for a weekend. His in – laws were the closest thing he had to a big family. Being an only child in a house with an abusive father and a scared mother, didn’t exactly scream “happy family”. After his mother passed from cancer, he left home, leaving his father alone - as he should have been all these years. And that’s how, he, a 15 – year – old boy, ended up working in a farm on the countryside. Kate’s parent’s farm. They were the ones who pushed him to hunt his dream and helped him get a degree from their local community college at economics. Without them he wouldn’t be in the city now, following a career on that accountant office.

“The place looks great, you guys!”, the squeaky voice of Stella’s friend, Nicole, pulled her out of her trance.

“Yeah, we love it too.”, George smiled at his girlfriend.

“Did you meet Paul yet? He’s a friend of George and I have the slightest idea you two might be working in the same building! Come, I’ll introduce you.”

Stella loved to watch their two worlds collide. At first, you’d thought these two weren’t going to last. An art student with a free spirit and the energy of a golden retriever puppy and a freshly graduated programmer with the attitude of a leader and the personality of an introvert. She was an open book and George was so closed to his cell, as much as a shellfish would be. But once they got to pass through the first impression, they could see each other crystal clear. Stella had such a creative mind, but in order to use it meaningfully, she managed to enhance her discipline; paint three hours now, practice her sketching skills one hour then. Sure, there were days when she lost time, because inspiration hit her or because she couldn’t think of a theme about a project, but she had a strict program about her studies and she followed it. George liked his life in an order and he watched everything through a logical pair of glasses; but not in his work. Of course, programming has rules, but if you put your imagination you can do amazing things; software design, websites, forums, apps, games and so many more. His job was – and he quotes Stella on that one – “No different than art. Just, instead of a brush, he’s holding a code.”.

The dinner was a huge success, as the two couples were getting along like they’ve known each other in years.

“Five years of marriage, huh? And you still tolerate with him?”

Jack laughed at his new friend’s joke and he pointed at a half – drunk Peter.

“You laugh now, but it’s only been a year for you. I bet it’ll be the only one.”

The two men laughed, while Kate brought the dessert; her famous apple pie. Peter could kill for a slice of that pie.

“So, -”, Katherine said as she sat in her seat again, “- have you thought about kids?”

The other couple chuckled, but this time with a hint of nervousness.

“Um, we have been trying for a while now”, Jack replied hesitantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that, I was just trying to make conversation.”, Kate said seeing Mary blushing and frowning at the same time. She was clearly uncomfortable.

“No, it’s okay. Really.”, Mary said looking sadly at her husband. “The truth is, we can’t have children. We can try, but…”

“But there’s a chance this won’t happen for us.”, said the young man as he took his wife’s hand on his.

It was like Peter saw the man for the first time tonight. He looked tired. He shouldn’t be, he was just twenty - six, he should be glowing. But the dark circles below his eyes suggested otherwise.

“I’m really sorry. You two would have made wonderful parents.”, Peter said to couple in the verge of tearing up.

“We’ve made our peace with it, a little while ago.”, Mary smiled at Jack. “We’re actually considering adopting.”

“That is so beautiful!”, Kate grinned to both of them. She smiled, but deep inside she felt a sincere pain for that woman. Not wanting kids it’s a thing, but not be able to have them is another. You lose a part of yourself and it hurts. She felt grief. But she didn’t have to show them that. They’d think she pitted them, while she actually had a great amount of respect for those two new friends sitting across the table.

“Well, I say we cheer up, because a child, no matter where it comes from, it’s a blessing!”

“I’ll drink to that.”, Mary laughed through repressed tears.

“Shots! Shots! Shots!”

Stella got through a bunch of shots with her friends, as the rest of their party cheered for them. The party was a big success. Not too many people, but just the right amount to make some noise and give the house a colorful twist. Around midnight the doorbell rang and Stella went to open the door. She was a little bit of tipsy, but not drunk. Not really drunk, at least.

“Good evening.”, a small old lady greeted Stella outside of her door.

“Hi!”, she replied cheerfully.

The old woman chuckled in the sight of the half – drunk lady.

“I am-”

“Oh, I know who you are! You’re Mrs. Robinson, from the ground floor. Flat 1, right?”

“Yes, I am dear. You must be Stella. Your husband George informed me about the party earlier this week.”

“Wow, he is… he’s not my husband, not yet. Oh, I am so sorry, are we making to much noise? Would you like us to turn the music down a little?”

“No, not at all dear. You have fun while you can and drink for me too.”

“So, why did you come, so late?”, Stella leaned against the door, focusing on her neighbor.

“Um… You know, George said if I wanted to come, I was welcomed and I- I couldn’t sleep��”, Mrs. Robinson muttered.

“Oh my God!”, Stella yelled. “How rude of me, of course you can come in! Come, come, may I offer you some wine?”, she practically shouted so she could hear her.

“Thank you so much dear, a glass would be wonderful”, the woman grinned from ear to ear as she entered the house. “You have a such a lovely place”, she shouted back.

“Aw, thank you, you are so sweet! Sit here and George will get you your drink”.

Stella introduced some of the people to Mrs. Robinson as she went to find her boyfriend. She found him in the kitchen pouring himself a drink and she told him what just happened.

“I’ll get this young soul a drink right away then!”, George said happily.

“I love you so much”, said Stella, with the most loving eyes.

“I love you even more”

The dinner came to an end, as Jack and Mary left their house and Katherine and Peter were washing the dishes. They discussed their new friends, Pete congratulated his wife and her amazing cooking skills, until they came across the matter of the kids.

“I was deeply sad about them, Pete. Children are such a blessing. To want one and not be able to conceive it? It sounds like proper torture to me.”

“I know sweetheart. I know.”

All of a sudden, Pete, snaggled in his wife’s hug. She carefully put down the dish she was holding and hugged him back. She knew what he was thinking. Some people didn’t deserve to be parents and some couldn’t have the kids they deserved. She kissed his forehead and she felt a tear, dropping on her left shoulder.

George woke up first around noon. A few minutes later, Stella nuzzled in his neck.

“Hey you.”, she murmured through her teeth.

“Good morning beautiful”. He kissed her forehead as he held her closer. “Last night was amazing”

Stella smiled mischievously.

“You mean the party or after?”

“Both!”, George chuckled as he kissed her.

“When did Mrs. Robinson leave?”, Stella yawned, “I don’t remember saying goodbye to her.”

“You mean Mrs. Kate? She left around one o’clock, didn’t stay that much. But everyone loved her! We should invite her for coffee one day, she was so nice with everyone.”

“Agreed. Come now, we have to clean this place up.”

Three weeks after the dinner night, Katherine was getting these early morning nauseas. Poor Peter couldn’t help her a lot, but he did go to get her some medicine for her stomach.

“Babe, are you okay?”

The only thing he heard in response was Stella spilling her insides out.

“I’m going to the pharmacy to get you something okay? Just, please don’t die while I’m gone.”

“Ha ha, very funn-”, Stella couldn’t finish her sentence as another wave hit her.

Kate had to try something. Just to be sure. She bought a couple when they got married, just in case. She didn’t know what to expect, but whatever it was, it didn’t matter. It was going to be okay.

Stella pulled a test out of the bathroom cabinet. She had to be sure. It felt like regular stomach aches. It better be. Because that is the last thing she could handle right now.

“Babe-”

“Honey, I’m home!”, Peter yelled.

Kate walked outside of the bathroom with a pregnancy test in her hands, smiling.

“Is this what I think it is?”, George asked with fear in his eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Stella said, smiling softly, “it’s negative.”

“Pete… it’s positive.”

#writing #writer #prompt #original #originalwriting #originalcontent #story prompt #differenttimeperiods

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Gavin’s Reflection of Beauty Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers for a date yet to be released in EN! 🍒

Phone call between Gavin and Mr Keller before the date: here

Candlelit Night Collection: Kiro // Lucien // Victor

Trivia regarding the name of the date:

This date is called 惊鸿照影来, which is part of a couplet from “Shenyuan”, a poem by Lu You written in the Song Dynasty

Rough translation of the full couplet: Alas, the green water under the forlorn bridge / Once reflected the charming face of my beloved one!

It was inspired by the poet’s own love story, where he was forced to leave his wife because his mother didn’t like her. Even so, their love never ceased. Ten years later, they met again in Shenyuan Garden (which was also the place he first fell in love with her). Lu You inscribed a poem on a stone wall, conveying his anger and sorrow towards their separation. A few days after seeing the poem, she died from depression :’<

“Shenyuan” was written later on as a memorialisation of his undying love. It conveys how revisiting old places makes one remember past lovers and sentiments

[ CHAPTER ONE ]

The date begins with MC and Gavin having a rehearsal for the sequel of the “Three Lifetimes” play

The audience had a deep impression of them in “Three Lifetimes”, so Mr Keller wrote them into the sequel as second leads

In the play, the town looks forward to the marriage between Lady Su (the female lead) and Swordsman Bai (Gavin)

But Lady Su is in love with Swordsman Bai’s friend, a scholar (the male lead)

Meanwhile, Swordsman Bai is in love with the character MC is playing (a high-ranking palace maid and a close friend of Lady Su)

After the rehearsal, Mr Keller gives them suggestions on how to improve, and tells Gavin to gaze at MC and hold her hand during a particular scene:

Gavin: ...all right.

[ CHAPTER TWO ]

Once the rehearsal is over, Gavin is a sweetheart as always, bringing water and a few bananas over to MC with this face:

Gavin: If it isn’t enough, I can get a few more?

MC: There’s enough, there’s enough.

Su Xuan, the actress playing Lady Su, tells them to change outfits for the photoshoot:

Su Xuan: I’ll help you put on some make-up first, then marry you off beautifully to your Mr Gavin. Come, close your eyes.

Without giving me a chance to explain or argue, she skilfully helps me with my make-up, as though she’s really helping a sister prepare for her wedding.

Su Xuan: Mm, that’s more like it.

She pulls me to my feet. After looking me over carefully, she tilts her head and smiles at something behind me.

Su Xuan: What does the groom think?

Before I have time to react, Su Xuan pushes me lightly, and I fall into familiar arms.

Gavin: Pretty.

Gavin, who has walked out of the changing room, is also wearing a matching set of red wedding attire.

The colour, which isn’t typically found on him, suits him unexpectedly well.

His easy-going independence has been toned down, replaced with fiery passion.

Gavin: What are you looking at?

MC: This outfit really suits you.

MC: ...very handsome!

Gavin: [coughs] ...you look very pretty in red too.

Gavin’s ears have a tinge of redness. He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes containing insuppressible surprise and warmth as he looks at me.

Su Xuan: All right, you two “newlyweds” can appreciate each other after the shoot! The photographer this time is quite picky.

As she speaks, she pulls our hands together.

The both of us stop talking, perhaps due to the dry air around us, or the warmth surfacing in our eyes.

Gavin holds onto my hand tightly.

[ CHAPTER TWO: A flashback ]

Location: Outside Lynn’s Kitchen

By the time Minor and Gavin leave the noodle shop, the sky is mostly dark.

Only traces of the sunset glow faintly from behind the tall buildings.

Minor: It’s so difficult to get tickets this Chinese New Year... I’m always struggling during this part of the year, and spending the New Year’s alone here is too cheerless. Gavin, what are your plans? Eh... why am I even asking - you’re definitely spending it with Boss.

Gavin is the same as always, letting Minor ramble on at his ear.

Only when he hears the final sentence does a corner of his heart feel a light tug.

Gavin: Mm. I promised to help Mr Keller with her.

Gavin smiles faintly without even realising it himself.

Minor: Huh? ...even though I find this method a little off, it’s not bad I guess! Boss has been asking everyone in the office what dishes they usually make for New Year’s. It made me curious... so you two are spending New Year’s together!

Minor’s words cause Gavin to recall the few memories of “spending the New Year’s” he has.

New Year’s should be a festival of celebration. There was a time when he looked forward to it.

It’s just that afterwards, this day gradually became no different from a normal one.

That is, until the girl reappeared in his life, drawing the link between this day and warmth.

It made him start looking forward to it again.

Minor: Bro Gavin? What are you thinking about? It’s rare to see this look on your face... I got it!

Minor makes an exaggerated expression, predictably receiving Gavin’s neither hard nor soft punch.

Gavin: Minor, are there places selling New Year goods near her home?

Minor: Bro Gavin, you want to... buy New Year goods?!

Gavin: What’s wrong with that?

Minor: Nothing nothing nothing...

Gavin: ...your smile is a little nauseating.

Minor: I’m just happy! Then again, as compared to preparing in advance, there will be more of an atmosphere if you pick them out together!

Gavin: Makes sense.

Gavin nods, quickening his pace slightly.

Minor: Bro Gavin, where are you headed to next?

Several images flash across his mind - a warm light in the living room left on for him, a table with the home-cooked dishes he mentioned liking, and the girl waiting for him on the sofa, hugging a pillow.

Gavin: Home.

[ CHAPTER THREE ]

The photoshoot turns out to be more difficult than MC expected

Photographer: You must imagine - you two are about to elope, so it has to be dynamic! And yet have a tinge of... hesitation and worry! You’ve got to feel it! Change your pose!

MC and Gavin struggle to understand the photographer’s abstract descriptions

MC suggests they pretend to chat while sitting on the grass

MC: ...the weather is getting cold. Does Sparky need to be sent for maintenance?

Once the words leave my mouth, I’m filled with a sense of regret. This topic is too forced...

Gavin seems to be stunned for a moment, then the corners of his lips lift gently.

Gavin: Mm, I have plans to do so. We can find a day to go together.

MC: Ah, okay!

Gavin smiles, lifting his hand to tuck stray tendrils of hair behind my ear.

His amber eyes, which are filled to the brim with smiles, hold my blinking and grinning expression within them.

Photographer: Very good! That’s the right feeling! Could the both of you try lying down? Girl, close your eyes and lift your head slightly.

MC: ...all right. Like this?

I follow the photographer’s instructions and lie down at Gavin’s side, closing my eyes.

In the darkness, a familiar warmth encases me tightly, allowing me to have a peace of mind and lean into his arms.

We are very close to each other. His unique scent entwines with the reed grass that has been dried by the sun, reminding me of the summer we spent together. A breeze brushes past us.

It makes one want to draw even nearer.

Photographer: Very good very good. Can the man include some movements to add on to the idea of newlyweds interacting?

Gavin: ...uhm.

I hear Gavin’s breath halt for a moment, as though he’s deep in thought.

After a while, he seems to have thought of something, and he laughs softly.

Gavin: MC, don’t move.

Right after he finishes speaking, I feel a lock of hair near my ear being lifted gently.

I don’t dare to move a single inch, nor dare to open my eyes. I leave myself entirely to Gavin.

The frequency of my heartbeat increases, and a numbness travels from the roots of my hair to my spine. My hair seems to be gently held in his palm.

Gavin: ...let me know if it hurts. I’ve never tried this before.

Even though he says this, his actions are cautious and tender.

All I can feel are the slight vibrations from my hair, the lock of hair ascending and descending along with his fingers, and then falling by my ear again.

I purse my lips tightly, frantically trying to control my rapid breathing. I’m afraid that I might accidentally ruin this ambience.

The shutter continuously sounds. The photographer seems to be saying something again, but I can no longer hear him clearly.

Next to me, Gavin’s breathing brushes against my forehead and the tips of my hair. The breath, which carries a certain warmth, feels like a light kiss.

Even though this is just a photoshoot, I wish time would give us this moment for a little while longer.

The words he said during the Qixi Festival last year surge from the depths of my heart, and once again gather in the centre.

I can’t help but feel that even if our destinies entangle and cross, and fate only allows for fleeting meetings, we will ultimately accompany each other at the very end.

In my ear, the sound of his heartbeat is akin to him giving me a definite answer. One after the other, regular and resolute.

Photographer:

Gavin: MC, we can get up now.

I open my eyes slowly. The past few minutes have felt like a small, beautiful dream.

In Gavin’s hand are locks of our hair tied together with a red string.

Noticing my gaze, Gavin clear his throat unnaturally.

Gavin: ...when the idea of “newlyweds” was brought up, I could only think of this.

[Trivia: In Chinese culture, one’s hair represents one’s self. During a traditional Chinese wedding, the couple would each cut a lock of their hair and tie them together. This is called 结发 (”joining of hair”). It symbolises the couple becoming one flesh and blood, and how they would be connected forever... T^T]

I nod, not daring to meet his eyes.

His short sentence channels layers of emotions in my heart, converging into unstoppable ripples.

In a most straightforward way, his unembellished words leave a long and sweet aftertaste in my heart.

MC: Let’s go over there so the next group can use this place...

Gavin: Hold on...

Without waiting for Gavin to finish, I’ve already sat up. Only when I feel a light tugging sensation do I realise that my hair is still tied to Gavin’s.

MC: Ah-

Gavin: ...does it hurt? Don’t worry, I’ll untie the knot.

Gavin’s voice, which carries within it concern, is very close to the top of my head. In the next second, the strands of hair that are pulled are immersed in a tender warmth.

Gavin: ...I might have tied it a little too tightly.

MC: Let me try...

Gavin agrees with a sound, cooperating by bending down slightly to make it easier to untie the red string.

I try pulling at the end of the string, but the knot refuses to budge.

Gavin: ...

MC: It does seem a little tight... could it be a dead knot?

Gavin seems to have leaned in a little closer. Perhaps it’s just my misperception, but he seems even closer than he was during the photoshoot.

His temperature and breath make my face feel increasingly flushed. I focus on the knot in my hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice my flustered state.

MC: N-next time, don't tie it so tightly! Or else I’ll leave it to you to untie.

I pretend to be angry, wanting to break the atmosphere that makes my heart go into a frenzy.

Gavin: All right, I got it.

When I hear his voice in my ear, I know fully well that my attempts are futile.

When the red string is finally released and falls to the ground, I release a huge sigh, yet feel an inexplicable emptiness in my heart.

It’s as though my fate with Gavin has become untied.

They get called back to the rehearsal

MC: We should go over then.

Gavin: ...hold on.

Gavin pauses, then takes the red string from my hand.

In a slightly clumsy manner, he uses the string to tie a knot at the end of my plait.

Gavin: This is also considered joining of the hair.

Gavin looks at me, his eyes clear, as though he has seen through all my emotions.

Gavin: Let’s go.

While he speaks, he takes my hand and we leave.

I hold onto Gavin firmly, the red string on my hair swaying gently along with our footsteps.

We will never miss each other again.

[ CHAPTER FOUR ]

At 8pm, the play finally begins

On stage, MC is supposed to read a letter to Gavin

But when she opens it up, she realises there’s nothing on the letter even though her script is supposed to be on it

Gavin notices that something is amiss, so he steps in to calm her down while pretending everything is normal

MC starts reciting her lines based on memory, but starts panicking in fear of ruining the play

Gavin then takes the letter from her and pretends to read from it, reciting her lines perfectly

The First Act of the play comes to an end, and there’s an intermission

MC decides to thank Gavin properly after the play is over, but Su Xuan suddenly looks for her:

Su Xuan: MC, are you free now? Pass the silk ball to Gavin! I don’t know why, but the prop hasn’t been brought over yet.

MC: Okay! I’ll go now!

Thinking of the little time left, I grab the silk ball and run towards the other end without much thought.

In the next scene, Gavin and I are supposed to enter the stage from different sides, which is why I have to cross through the entire backstage to reach him.

The silk ball is an indispensable prop in the next scene. Also... I have a “thank you” to say to him in person.

With this in mind, I quicken my pace, and find a familiar figure afar off in the busy backstage.

MC: Gavin! I’m over here!

I stand on my tiptoes and wave at him, thinking of ways to reach him even faster.

Hearing this, Gavin raises his head. After seeing me, he immediately weaves through the crowd and walks towards me.

People are moving to and fro. Our eyes only have each other, and we go against the flow of people, walking towards our only focus.

Staff: Prepare for the second half!

When I’m only a few steps away from him, the countdown for the second half of the play resounds.

MC: Gavin, this is for you!

In my desperation, I lift my hand. The silk ball flies in a slightly shaky arc, landing steadily in Gavin’s arms.

[Trivia: In Chinese culture, the silk ball (绣球 - ”xiu qiu”) is used to symbolize love. Giving it to someone reflects the giving of one’s heart. If a woman is in search of a fated life partner, she will toss the ball high into the air in a crowd. The person who catches the silk ball would become the person’s husband]

MC: Gavin, about earlier...

Staff: MC? What are you doing here? Go back, we’re about to start soon. The snatching scene is next, and it’s very important.

MC: Please wait! I haven’t finished what I wanted to say...

The staff doesn’t give me a chance to continue, and pulls me to the other end.

I turn my head towards Gavin, and I have no choice but to swallow the words of gratitude I couldn’t say to him in time.

Gavin: [unintentionally sexy whisper] Wait for me.

Gavin stands in place and looks at me, mouthing those words to me.

The bell from the venue rings, and the noise from the audience gradually dissipates.

Staff: The Second Act! Begins!

[ CHAPTER FOUR: A flashback ]

Location: Gavin’s home

MC: “It’s good, and I doubt the lady would refuse, but...”

Gavin: Are you still looking at your lines?

MC: ...Gavin? Why are you here!

[Note: I have no idea why MC asks this since the backdrop is of his own house LOL]

Gavin walks over with a blanket in his hand.

MC: The rehearsal is the day after tomorrow, so I’m trying to make use of my time to familiarise myself with the script, especially the scene where I’m reading the letter. Even though I should be able to read straight from the letter on the actual day, I think it’s better to memorise it just in case... Gavin, why don’t you accompany me in going through the lines!

Gavin nods and sits beside me. After covering me with the blanket, he takes the script from my hands.

Gavin: From here?

MC: Okay!

Gavin and I go through the dialogue. Places I usually get stuck at become miraculously smooth.

Without realising it, we’ve gone through the entire script.

I flip through the script, marking out places requiring additional attention.

MC: I feel like Mr Keller has taken reference from the personalities of the actors when writing the lines. I keep thinking that the lines sound like what you would say.

While speaking, I let out a yawn.

Gavin: If you’re tired, rest. We can continue tomorrow.

As the year draws to a close, there are more things than usual to settle at work. And when I come home, I’d have to familiarise myself with the script. It’s natural that I’d feel fatigued.

MC: You don’t have anything on tomorrow?

Gavin: I don’t have work tomorrow, so we can practice our lines.

MC: That’s great!

A warmth gushes out of my heart. I shift closer to Gavin, sharing half the blanket with him. We look at the script together.

MC: This is so much warmer!

Gavin: ...do you still want to look at it?

MC: Mm, let’s look through the letter scene again. “If you lack medical knowledge... attach some... scattered silver... I hope to do my best...”

The words in front of me gradually become blurry and distorted. After a certain line, I lean on Gavin’s shoulder in a dazed state, giving up on my fight against sleep.

Gavin: MC? Are you asleep?

The girl, who loftily said they would look at the script together just a few minutes ago, is now leaning softly against his shoulder, sleeping peacefully.

Gavin doesn’t wake her up, and simply covers her with a jacket. He flips to the first page of the script, quietly reading the girl’s lines, and memorising them.

The city is asleep, but the room filled with the breath of two people is still illuminated with a tender light.

The all-knowing stars in the night sky are silent, and will guard the small world belonging to these two people.

[ CHAPTER FIVE ] The curtains are drawn slowly. I once again step onto the stage, following the script.

In this scene, Gavin will snatch the silk ball, and I will hand it to the male lead so he can bring his beloved home.

For the scene to be more realistic, the actors are allowed to walk around spontaneously.

As such, I have to run past various settings, weave through the crowd, and finally reach the stipulated spot.

MC: Swordsman Bai?

Panting slightly, I stand underneath the embroidery building, looking for Gavin.

[Trivia: In ancient times, women who were more socially well-to-do would do embroidery in embroidery buildings.]

The sense of deja vu blurs my perception of the boundaries between the play and reality.

A strong wind arrives as promised. Following the glint of a sword, a path forms in the crowd, interrupting my thoughts.

Gavin is dressed in red. One hand holds onto the silk ball, and the other sheathes his sword. He walks straight towards me.

Gavin: Trivial matters held me back, and I seek forgiveness from the lady.

The corners of his lips are curled into an open smile. His eyes are wilful and tender.

The setting of the blue sky, the red silk in the surroundings, and the startled magpie birds surround Gavin, who is donned in wedding attire. It makes one unable to look away.

At this moment, he finally stands before me again.

The crowd and the noise of the world - they no longer have anything to do with me.

Gavin places the silk ball into my hands steadily.

Even though I know this is a script, and that it’s part of the plot, I can’t help but feel that the red silk ball in my hands is akin to a solemn promise.

A greedy thought even flits across my mind - maybe it’d be good if the story ends like this.

On stage, the silk ball is finally handed to the scholar. The lady takes the silk ball and holds it with her lover.

Under the embroidery building, Gavin suddenly takes my hand.

Gavin: Perhaps this may be abrupt. MC, are you willing to marry me and become my wife?

MC: ?!

Was there such a line in the script?

I look at Gavin with confusion.

Gavin doesn’t say a word. He stares straight at me without a hint of evasion.

There are so many emotions within that pair of eyes, leaving me unable to make sense of them. I have no idea what to say.

Off-stage, the audience erupt in thunderous cheers.

I glance to the side. Mr Keller, who has been watching the entire play, nods in my direction, signalling that I should continue in my role.

My confusion dissipates when I see Gavin’s amber eyes, which are filled with deep, tender emotions and lingering affection. There is even an undercurrent of questioning and anticipation.

It’s as though the answer I give would be an entrustment of the rest of my life.

My heart beats loudly in my chest, feeling like it would leap out from my throat in the next second.

MC: I... I accept.

I blush and respond, not even sure if my words are loud enough to be heard by the audience off-stage.

However, every single word is heard by Gavin, who has received my feelings.

With a gentle laugh, he wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me up.

Gavin brings me up the embroidery building to stand alongside the male and female leads.

At the end of the play, there is thunderous applause from off-stage. There are even a few audience members who are fully immersed in the story, sending us their blessings.

In the midst of the applause, I tilt my head and lean towards Gavin’s ear, speaking softly.

MC: Gavin, just now... I don’t remember seeing such a scene in the script?

Gavin: Mm, it was impromptu.

MC: Why didn’t you tell me beforehand? I even thought...

Gavin doesn’t respond further, only smiling at me.

Facing the cheering audience, the four of us bow and thank them for watching, as though worshipping the vast sea of people.

After the play, everyone involved in the show gathers together to celebrate over dinner

MC: Gavin, thank you so much for today! It’s a good thing you saved the show! Back then... I really didn’t know what to do.

While I speak, I raise the drink in my hand, clinking it lightly against Gavin’s.

Gavin: You were looking for me just now to say this?

He raises his drink, making up for the delayed clink.

MC: Yeah. I wanted to thank you properly, but time was so tight that I couldn’t find the chance. Come to think of it, how did you know my lines...

Gavin: When we were rehearsing lines together, I just memorised them as well.

Gavin lowers his head and takes a mouthful of food, maintaining his usual casual attitude. Noticing that I’ve been watching him, he rubs his neck in slight confusion.

Gavin: Um... is there something on my face?

I immediately shake my head. A warm wave of emotions overflow from my heart. Countless words of gratitude are lodged in my throat, but I feel that no matter what I say, it would not be enough.

In the end, I silently fill a bowl of soup for him.

At the table, everyone is eating and drinking merrily, and the atmosphere is warm.

MC: After spending so many days with the crew, thinking of how we might not have the chance to get together like this again makes me feel quite reluctant to part with them.

I lean against Gavin, looking at the lively crew around us.

MC: Gavin, I suddenly thought about something from my childhood. My dad used to be busy producing programs, and would bring me to the recording site to spend the New Year’s. The site was always busy, but no matter how pressed they were for time, everyone would sit down together and have an especially sumptuous dinner. Once I grew up, I also started spending my New Year’s working. I still remember that the warm ambience back then was the same as right now.

Gavin: Mm, I can imagine. I used to spend New Year’s with my teammates, and it was very lively.

MC: Even though it’s not at home, it’s still a different kind of fun!

Gavin: Since we’re on this topic, [coughs]...

Gavin seems to have something very important to say, but he takes another sip of his drink and stops.

I blink, waiting for him quietly. I can vaguely guess what he wants to say.

In the end, he seems to become determined. He clears his throat and turns his head to look at me with a serious expression.

Gavin: Over the next few days, if you don’t have anything else planned....

Gavin: Spend the New Year’s with me at home.

His tone is light, but the look in his eyes tells me just how solemn this invitation is. Even the tips of his ears turn an unnatural shade of red.

I am very certain that, to the both of us, these words are the most precious and serious treasures from the deepest parts of his heart.

MC: Okay.

I nod heavily in response. Since a very long time ago, this answer has not changed.

The corners of Gavin’s lips turn up slightly. Those eyes, which always have an undercurrent of emotions, look like a glacier that has melted in spring, tenderly melting into a warm current.

Gavin: I’ll pick you up then.

MC: Mm!!

The way his lips are curled upwards is as though all the uncertainties in his heart have found a most potent answer.

I find myself smiling along with him.

MC: I recently learnt how to make a few New Year’s dishes, so we can try them.

Gavin: All right, I can help. My skills... have improved.

I freeze for a moment, making a sudden realisation.

MC: Have you been practicing in secret? Looks like teaching you how to cook was a wise decision.

Gavin: ...I occasionally tried to.

MC: I’ll have to check the results of my teaching this year then!

Gavin: No problem.

Gavin smiles, nodding his head with some measure of seriousness. He suddenly thinks of something.

Gavin: Oh yes, do we need to buy things like spring couplets?

MC: Mmhmm, we also have to buy the character “福”! It will only feel like New Year’s when we have these things pasted.

[Trivia: During the Chinese New Year, households paste an inverted red coloured square with the character 福 (“fu”, which means auspiciousness, blessing or happiness) on doors, walls, etc. to usher in such tidings]

I continue talking, listing on my fingers the items I want to purchase.

In my memory, my aunties’ fierce interrogations don’t seem that long ago. In just a blink of an eye, a new year has arrived.

[Note: She’s making reference to the Spring Festival Date!]

This time, we can leave our time to each other.

In a place belonging only to us, flipping open a new year’s calendar together.

The atmosphere at the dining table is just right. The sound of clinking glasses and celebration comes in waves. No one notices this small corner.

We clasp each others’ fingers quietly.

Our pulses, only separated by a layer of skin, call out to each other in the language of warmth.

I’m so lucky to have you by my side.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #SOFT GAVIN #pardon the one billion screenshots of Gavin I included in this

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sohin-ace · 5 years ago

Text

Jojo Drabble - Jotaro (Pride Month Special)

It's the end of Pride Month, and I haven't seen a single, not a single post about Aro/Aces...

I'm not really surprised. At all.

I'm linking some interesting videos and websites to help you understand this sexual orientation.

Asexuality: The invisible Orientation by Hippie Calico

I spent a day with Asexuals by Anthony Padilla

Asexuality by David Jay

Asexuality.org (available in 16 languages)

R/aaaacccccce on Reddit

R/asexuality on Reddit

(Both subreddits are very cute and full of funny memes and good positivity 💜🖤)

In regards to the visibility of this marginal and forgotten sexuality, I'll be making a drabble about it. With the only openly Aro/Ace character of Jojo that I know of.

※ Jojo Scenario • Jotaro - Ace to Ace

You opened the heavy metallic door leading to the rooftop, the loud clank and dry screech making you cringe. Hopefully the sound wouldn't alert the teachers or the class reps. After all, nobody was allowed on the roof. Especially during class hours.

You walked around, searching for a certain someone and, surely enough, the boy in question was there, just where you expected him to be.

"Man, you sure love to ditch, don't you?"

You chuckled and the male didn't even spare you a glance, his hat effectively shielding his face from the Spring sun as he laid leisurely on the floor, his arms pillowing his head.

"I could say the same to you."

Well, he wasn't wrong, you thought to yourself, but you would never admit it out loud and possibly give this smug man reason.

You slowly and carefully sat down next to him, groaning slightly at the painful difficulty of the usually simple task.

Jotaro perked up slightly at your discomfort, making sure you were alright. Thankfully you seemed alright and he relaxed.

"Yare yare daze, you shouldn't have come. You're still recovering, why are you walking flights of stairs now?"

That's right. You were still under medication and strict medical supervision for your quite severe stomach wounds. And you still weren't used to your prosthetic leg just yet.

It was purely a miracle that you managed to survive that fight against Dio, and you never ever took a second of your life for granted after that, thinking of the friends who didn't have the same chance as you, lost forever during that battle.

You looked down at your uniform skirt. You couldn't think about that now. You had to lift up the mood for Jotaro, and for them.

"Hey, I'm fine." You dismissed with a smile, "It doesn't even hurt that much anymore, it's been a while now." You reassured and he only mumbled his catchphrase again, laying back down.

You two kept each other company in comfortable silence. Despite everything, Jotaro was still taciturn and you were much calmer after all that happened the past few months.

It was already the end of the school year and your thoughts drifted to the future that awaited you, and what it had to possibly offer.

"Say, Jotaro..." You softly grasped his attention and he only hummed in response. "What do you think will happen next? After we graduate, I mean..."

"Hmm?" He opened a curious blue eye at you." ...Go to college or get a job. Or both. What else do you want to do?"

"Ah well..." You paused and thought of your next words. "I don't want to but... Guess I'll have to get married and stuff eventually... Have kids, cook for my husband, things like that you know..."

Jotaro clicked his tongue and scoffed at the disgusting idea. "...Bullshit."

"I know..." You sighed and looked back down at the male, only to see him stare at the now more covered sky, his usual glare softer on his face. You knew what he was thinking.

"Jotaro..." You called and he looked at you. "You're the same as me... Right?"

He didn't say anything, but his eyes spoke answers for him. You may not have known him for very long, but the adventures and experiences you lived with him were worth much more than years of friendship.

He huffed and closed his eyes. "Yare yare daze... Why are you talking about depressing things, now?"

"I mean... Can you blame me for being worried? I know you feel the exact same, Jotaro." You brought your knees up to your chest and stared ahead. "You'll have to get through the same thing at one point too... That's... What we're expected to do, after all... Whether we like it or not."

He hated to admit it, but you were right. What was the place in society for two outsiders with not interests in romantic or sexual relationships?

What were Aromantics and Asexuals besides loners, straight people craving attention and finding poor excuses for their lack of charisma?

Especially when everybody well knew that the only way to succeed in life, was to share it with a significant other and keep the bloodline going forever.

...Or was it really?

All these thoughts, your obligations as members of the patriarchal modern society, the implications behind all of it, the consequences, the fate you two would be doomed in. All of these were so painful. A lifelong struggle.

He was aware that he'd have to complete his other half of his life, achieve the ultimate life goals of getting married to a beautiful little wife and have cute little children running around the house and all that jazz.

But that's not how Jotaro Kujo had ever imagined his life would be like.

He had his own dreams, his own comforts. Being alone was good. So good. But he had no choice, he'd have to satisfy society's expectations. He'd have to make his mother proud and granting her the little grandchildren she always wished to have.

Jotaro looked back at your metallic leg. After all you've been through, after all he's lost to save his mother, pleasing her and making her happy was the least he could do to honor your sacrifices and the deaths of his loved ones.

But what could he do? Force himself? A man couldnt force himself to develop feelings, he could only pretend. But what good would that do him?

He'd have to, eventually. He couldn't help but think back at you. You were all the same. And you two would be judged for life for not following suit and do like everyone else, like little sheeps.

Was it so wrong to not want to be with a special someone? To not get attached or attracted? Why was it so weird? Why was it unacceptable? Who deemed it necessary, to get stuck into marriage just for the sake of being married?

And man, his thoughts rathered to drift to sex either, that's really the last straw and if possible, he'd love to shut everybody up about it. Shut up everybody who only validated a man's worth by his primal urge to knock a woman up.

You seemed to be the only one he could actually talk about this with, since people would just tell you the usual 'You're gay!' or 'You haven't found the one yet!'.

Just like telling a depressed person to 'cheer up'. Bullshit excuses of people who couldn't accept that mindsets and sexualities differ with each human being.

What were the two of you supposed to do? You were stuck, cornered.

He was a stone that knew nothing about affection, and he already pitied the unlucky woman who'd get to him.

And you were just as bad of a stone. He felt bad for you, for having to have to lay down and take it without batting an eye just to satisfy the needs of the greedy bastard that'd snatch you away.

"... We'll figure it out, Y/N. We've dealt with much worse to worry about things like that."

"That's true but... I don't know. It's hard to imagine a family life. I like chilling on my own. And I'm still too sad about them to be lovey-dovey."

He scoffed, hitting your back playfully. "So what? Let two hopeless rocks with crippling depression be themselves. Sounds like a plan."

"Now, hear yourself talking about depressing things!" You chuckled and pointed out accusingly at him, stealing his precious hat and putting it on your own head.

He sat up with an exhausted sigh and roughly pulled his hat down your eyes, as his own little revenge, gratified by a small 'Ow!' of response from your end.

He let out a ghost of a smile as you were blinded by his hat, thankful that you couldn't see him even though he knew you'd never tease him for being more expressive.

"Ow, that actually hurt, Jojo, you bastard!"

"Let's go." He stood up before stretching his huge hand out to you, making sure to be careful with your injuries as he pulled you up to your feet with surprising gentleness.

Before you could reach your classroom, you grabbed your friend's arm, prompting him to stop walking in the empty hallways.

"But really, Jojo... Wherever you are, and if you have been pushed into a life that unsatisfies you in the future... think about me, okay? You know that somewhere, I'll be the exact same... You're not alone."

He couldn't help but soften his gaze just slightly. You were a thoughtful person, that wasn't a secret. You already had proven yourself to be compassionate multiple times during your crusade, and you kept on.

You made him realise that he was normal and it was okay to not feel anything. You two could only rely on each other now, and it sure didn't matter to him what people say.

Oh of course he'd heard his classmates gush about how cute you two were and how uncharacteristically sweet he was towards you ever since you came back from your trip.

Because the infamous Jotaro Kujo wouldn't just have a soft spot for just anyone, right? Nobody would believe that he became so gentle just because you were injured, there must be something more, right?

No. Absolutely not. And screw society for fogging people' small brains into thinking that there's an afterthought or innuendo behind every male-female, or even same sex platonic relationships.

He knew well that it made you as uncomfortable as him, but you always brushed it off and let the people talk. Let them believe whatever they wanted.

He never wanted to think too much about it, but he couldn't help but worry as well sometimes. That was the kind of things that pissed him off.

It pissed him off so bad. If it wasn't for you he would have crushed so many skulls already. That would teach some people to shut the fuck up.

"What are you thinking about, Jotaro?"

He blinked, humming questioningly at you as you had taken him out of his transe.

"You just called Star Platinum." You said as you grabbed the Stand's big hand, shaking it around as if to greet him, to which he responded with a whispery 'Ora'.

He sighed heavily, calling his Stand back. "Nothing... Nothing at all."

You chuckled a bit. You've learned to read him quite well overtime. A skill only his mother and Kakyoin had mastered. "I'm worried too, Jojo. Hopefully it will be okay... For us."

You patted his back reassuringly and he smiled.

Wasn't that kind of love enough? Love without obligation, without commitment. Without the consequences. Without gender norms, without standards. Just people caring for each other. Wasn't friendship, camaraderie, sisterhood and brotherhood beautiful enough?

Platonic, unromantic love was much stronger than any other type of relationship. He was satisfied with this form of social contact. He didn't need anything more.

Jotaro Kujo was never a greedy man, after all.

The male was suddenly brought back to his sense when he felt a tiny hand tug insistently at his sleeve, hoping to wake him up from his rêverie.

"Papa, you fell asleep on your desk again..."

Jotaro inhaled tiredly, scratching his head and taking in his surroundings, his study back in his home in Florida. He patted his daughter's head, making her scrunch her face a little.

Was it that late already? He was so used to dozing off after working on his thesis, reflecting on his life and his choices. He had been overworking himself lately. He knew he shouldn't overthink, but he couldn't help it.

"Thank you Jolyne. Go back to sleep now, alright?"

The little girl nodded and trutted out, leaving her father alone to his thoughts.

Jotaro let out another breath, eyeing a certain picture frame, taken in the desert. Hopefully you were living a fulfilling life of your own.

And hopefully you two would get to meet again, and maybe talk again.

Ace to ace.

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allie1804-fan · 3 years ago

Text

Kerense Part 2

This is a continuation of Kerensa - read Part 1 here

Kerensa (Part 1)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Warnings : Just like Keanu in these fics, I don't actually know any of the other real people portrayed here so my versions of them are all supposition!

LA Home?

After a couple of weeks, they moved on to LA. Kerry was Flabbergasted by the size and style of his home. It had a cool feel due to the size of the rooms and the large pieces of art in the main living area which had vast bi-fold doors leading out to the patio and pool. He was most excited to show her his pond with Koi Carp and the breathtaking view.

His office and bedroom were warmer in style, more in keeping with the man and she was thrilled with the kitchen which his sister had designed with herself in mind for when she visited and wanted to cook or for Keanu when he had a caterer come in.

On their first night, they ordered take out and ate outside by the pool. They were both tired from travelling but he promised to take her out to some favourite haunts soon. His bigger priority was making her and Scout feel at home and welcome.

That started with meeting his mum. Having heard a lot about her before he left, his mother, in particular, was very keen to make her acquaintance. She invited them over and had a meal catered.

She was welcoming but there was an edge of scrutiny in her gaze and her questions.

In the car on the way home, Kerry pointed it out.

It’s just like Jason Robards says in Parenthood. “It never ends”

“What?”

“Well, your mum was clearly concerned I might be some kind of leach!”

“Kerry, she thinks that about everyone I meet, but especially women. But she liked you, I could tell. And you bonded over all your English connections right?”

“I guess!”

Next up was Karina who had them over for Thanksgiving. She was more easygoing than her mother and they had a very relaxed day with Keanu and his brother-in-law bonding over the football and Kerry and Karina enjoying working together in the kitchen.

In the weeks running up to Christmas, their projects were on hiatus and they focussed on getting Kerry acclimatised to LA. Keanu bought her a car (she was not up for driving his Porsche) and they went on bike rides up PCH, took Scout on hikes in local parks and continued her introductions to his friends.

Key amongst them was Alex Winter and his family. They spent a great day on the beach at Malibu with him, his wife and their 2 youngest sons. Alex took a cute pic of Kerry and Keanu there - She had straggly wet hair from messing around in the sea and was wearing a loose shirt over her swimming costume. Her arms were draped around Keanu’s neck and they were both grinning broadly. She liked it so much, she had it printed and framed and placed it on their dressing table. It was one way she could try to settle in.

She certainly felt safe and welcome in his home, but, truth be told, not really at home

Some of that was connected to Scout. There was an inner courtyard where Scout could chill in a shady spot and you could walk him along the road nearby but only in the evening when the surface would be cool enough. To walk the dog, you really needed to go to a park, beach or further out into hills. It wasn’t just a stone’s throw away like at Sennen.

Also, in one sense, the house felt huge but at the same time, claustrophobic. It was curious that she could feel hemmed in despite the space and open view at the back - it was like you couldn’t touch the nature that was so near at hand and when she felt like that, the waves of nostalgia for Sennen were powerful.

Another challenge she faced and hadn’t really expected had been the number of female friends Keanu had who, it was clear, were past sexual partners. It wasn’t that anyone said anything to her, least of all him for whom it was all just water under the bridge, but some of them had an unmistakable body language towards him, while others displayed a certain possessiveness that she found, if not threatening then at least challenging.

She knew he’d had a different life from her, longer in single mode, less settled in one place and with a lot of opportunity to be promiscuous, so she knew she had to accept it, but she also struggled to imagine still hanging out with people you’d been so intimate with in the past as it had been a very rare experience for her.

Fortunately, Karina was a bit of an ally in at least filling in the gaps as to who was or wasn’t an ex. Kerry didn’t want to come off as jealous or obsessive, so asking Keanu was a no-no, at least at first. One day, Karina had come over to talk Christmas food and caught Kerry staring off into the distance.

“Hey, where have you gone?” Karina asked her.

Wha …? oh sorry, nowhere, I’m right here”

“ oh no, not falling for THAT. What did he do?”

“Keanu? Nothing. Honest.”

“Kerry?”

“Honest he didn’t. It’s just, errm Autumn came over last night”

“Ughhh”

“What?”

“Nothing, she’s just not my favourite of his exes that still hangs around him”

“Oh so she IS an ex, I wasn’t sure and he didn’t say so”

“He wouldn’t, to him it’s ancient history - and it is. They properly dated in the 90s and then I’m pretty sure she was, you know…. A friend …..”

“With benefits?”

“Yeah, sometime in the 2000s but not in the past few years. Was she civil to you?”

“Yeah yeah, she was just quite, erm touchy with him and sort of “

“Possessive?”

“Not exactly, but she made sure to mention things from way back several times as if to remind me and him that I’m the new kid. I mean maybe I was being over-sensitive, it was weird”

“Naah, that’s her thing. She didn’t manage to clinch him and that still riles her so she hangs in there with the “trusty oldest friend” card.

“Yeah but she’s not his oldest friend right? Brenda is from school and that lovely lady Clare is from before her time right?”

“Right, I mean Autumn is from way back but she’s not the unique one she likes to think.”

Mostly, the exes were subtle in their comments or behaviour but China Chow came close to making Kerry spit her drink out at a Christmas party when she was a bit drunk. She was saying how happy she was to see Keanu happy.

“And you my friend are a lucky girl, he’s good between the sheets too huh?, hic!”

The following morning Keanu and Kerry were lying in bed with a coffee, nursing hangovers and doing a party post-mortem.

“Oh my God, China was drunk wasn’t she?!” Keanu snorted.

“I’ll say!” She replied rolling her eyes

“What?”

“Have you had sex with all of your female friends?!” She asked pointedly.

“Oh my god, what did she say?”

“Oh, how happy she is for you …..”

“Mmmmm, so?”

“And how lucky I am….and how good you are between the sheets”

It was Keanu’s turn to almost spit out his coffee.

“That must have been awkward.!”

“Well would have been worse if we weren’t both at least a little drunk”

“Do you mind?” “That I have a past?” he clarified when she looked questioningly at him.

“No, I just, I never had an ex who I still hung out with after we split so it’s a little weird for me. And they’re all so, you know, LA glamorous.”

“Come ‘ere.” He said pulling her close after seeing the uncertainty in her eyes.

“It’s you I love, you I want to wake up with every morning and hold in my arms each night. And they're so called glamour is no match for your beauty. And, it’s like, over 10 years ago that I was with any of the friends I still see, sexually. Kerry, I promise. Are we ok?”

“yeah, we’re good” she reassured.

And they were. Christmas was around the corner and Kerry enjoyed shopping for gifts, getting a tree and decorating the house. They placed the bird decoration for Ava on the tree and he gave her two angels to hang for her babies and a Celtic fertility symbol in hope of a future as parents. They spent Xmas Day with his mother and Karina and Keanu went on his usual Boxing Day bike ride with old friends while Kerry went to the cinema with Karina.

On 29th they headed back to the UK, where they spent New year with her sister and family and 10 days having catch-ups with friends in London and Cornwall.

By mid-January, they were back in LA and finally, it felt like there would be a period of being more settled. They socialised but there were no more big introductions to make and Kerry planned to crack on with her novel.

@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @omg-imagine @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @paperplanesandwallflowers @witty-wallflower @karlee1225 @bitchyslut99 @toomanystoriessolittletime @ladyreapermc @kissmyromanticquote @tacticalchics @utterlynuts @kylosbitch @thebigbubowski @thelightnessofthebeing @gatsbynouvel @keanuficfiles @fanficsrusz @jardaniswife @cheezbort @mazzylana97 @maggiemoo1892 @girlfriday007 @siriussnape07 @yomnaislame @soarocks @fadingkideclipseempath @franny-banks-world @keanulowe @babylovejongin @lucky134ever @jasmindaughteroftheworld @tomorrowsanotherday @fokinqueen @littlefreya @leftyreea @wheretheriversrunintothesea @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @fickenstein @popacherryvisitalibrary @aah8903 @thethirstyarchive @cynic-spirit @australianpsychos @meetmeinthematinee

#keanu fanfic #keanu reeves fan fiction #keanu fan fiction #keanu reeves fan fic #keanu #keanu reeves #keanu ofc fiction #keanu reeves imagine

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marshmallow-phd · 5 years ago

Text

Colored Blue

Genre: Royalty!AU, somewhat enemies to lovers

Pairing: Sehun x Fem!reader

A/N: I’m not sure if there’s much to the enemies to lovers part.... also, i don’t normal put the word count, but so everyone’s aware, this is about 6k... enjoy! (hopefully!)

The carriage ride was far from smooth. Each small pebble or rock or crack in the ground jolted the wheels which in turn shook the coach. Each bump churned your stomach that was already jostled with nerves.

“Why do we have to do this?” you asked, your eyes closed to try and calm the nauseated feeling.

Your governess, Edna, tsked from the bench across from you.

Although you were too old now to need a governess, Edna continued to stay on as a companion, someone to keep you company on trips like this where your parents were unable (or simply chose not to) to attend. That was quite alright with you since you much preferred her presence to anyone else’s. She was like an eccentric aunt to you, somehow both responsible and adventurous. Sort of.

Edna would never approve of sneaking out late at night or being alone with someone who was not your betrothed (which you were lucky enough not to have one of those – yet). However, she wasn’t against your archery lessons or horseback riding that went a little faster than a leisurely trot. She was practically a walking contradiction and you weren’t entirely sure of what she would and would not approve of. It was always a guessing game; one that you liked playing to keep yourself entertained.

“Are you really wanting me to go over it again with you or are you simply wanting to cure your own boredom?” Edna asked, not even glancing up from her needlework. How she could do that without pricking her finger every bump was astounding.

“Oh, I know why,” you huffed. “At least, on the surface. But it sounds like a pathetic excuse, if you ask me.”

“I don’t believe anyone did,” Edna smirk. Head still bent over her needlework, she looked at you through her eyelashes. Both of you started to laugh.

Your laugh, however, soon faded to a light chuckle before dying out completely. It wasn’t fair. That was practically the slogan of your life. “Unfair”. Each aspect of your life - from how you dressed to how you ate to who’s company you kept - was dictated by both decorum and your parents. Being a lady of noble birth may have sounded like a glamorous life in the fairytales Edna had read to you as a child, but it didn’t take you long to find that it was nothing but a cage made of manners and tradition. While the bars had always remained steadfast, a new lock was about to be put on the door. One that was much stronger - and possibly unbreakable.

Running away always sounded like a wonderful, spur-of-the-moment idea. Unfortunately, your mind would instantly remind you that you had no clue as to how to survive outside the castle walls. You didn’t know how to cook or hunt or work with your hands beyond the theory of it. You wouldn’t last more than maybe two days on your own and that fear kept you put.

The carriage slowed to a stop. After a short succession of knocks, one of your knights poked his head in through the small door.

“Mi’lady, I wanted to let you know that we’re just outside the city walls. Once through, it should only be a few minutes more to the castle itself.”

“Thank you, Sir Markl.”

With a last nod, he closed the door before shouting to continue on.

You were already here. Sure, you’d really been traveling for two days, but it still felt so sudden. How would your presence be received?

Since your grandfather was a young duke, your two families had feuded. Sometimes it was simply high tension, while there were times where it was fought on the battlefield. The last skirmish was nearly two decades ago, forced to a fragile truce by the king. And now the old man was hoping to strengthen that truce by marrying you off to the son of the rival duke. Oh, of course. It was merely a suggestion. As if it could be ignored.

How were you supposed to be happy with someone who surely hated you?

You were certain that this boy grew up with the same kind of dirt spewed out about you from his parents that you heard from yours about them. Except, it wasn’t just your parents that didn’t have the most flattering view of this future duke.

Other barons and knights didn’t seem to have the highest view of him either. Standoffish, uninterested, rude, and loose-lipped were a few of the adjectives you’d heard used to describe him.

Wonderful.

All too soon, the coach came to another stop and you could hear Sir Markl loudly announce your arrival. After a few seconds, you heard the gate being raised and the carriage lurched forward to go the forty feet or so to the real front door of the castle. You knew it was too late to run, but the image of you bolting out of the carriage and into the woods to get away seemed very satisfying in your head.

When the door swung open, Edna motioned for you to exit first. In a very unladylike way, you blew air out through your lips before morphing your face into a neutral expression. In a fashion much more expected of your station, you stepped out into the sunshine. With the help of Sir Markl, you managed not to trip your way down to the ground.

Staring up at the large wooden double doors, you took a deep breath. You felt like you were at the mouth of the dragon’s cave, the sacrifice left to die for the good of the village.

“Come, mi’lady,” Edna urged with a wave of her hand. You nodded once, picking up your skirt and making your way up the steps as the doors were opened for you.

The steward was waiting for you inside the front hall. He bowed and introduced himself, although your brain didn’t quite catch his name. Your mind was a little occupied at the moment.

He led you through the halls of the grand castle where drapes and paintings that depicted scenes of hunts and parties covered up the less welcoming-looking gray stone. Your eyes wandered among the art but never lingered too long. There would be plenty of time to memorize their threads and brushstrokes in the future.

The steward finally came to a stop outside another pair of double doors that could only lead into the Great Hall. The place where the Duke would conduct his meetings with citizens and dignitaries and where the festive parties would be held. You didn’t want to go in there, but what choice did you have?

With both hands, the steward pushed open the doors and announced your arrival.

Sitting in a large wooden chair painted in a flashy gold sat the Duke, his wife - beautiful and smiling, nothing at all like the wicked witch you’d pictured as a child - sat to his left.

“Welcome!” the Duke greeted. “It’s wonderful to see that you’ve arrived safely.” While there was certainly a small strain in his voice, the words out of the Duke’s mouth seemed genuine.

You curtsied as custom. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lord.”

“I’m sorry that our son is not here as well,” the Duchess said with apologetic eyes. “He is in the middle of training at the moment and we didn’t want to make you wait for him to clean up. You must be exhausted from your journey. Sohee will show you to your room. Please, take your time settling in. We will reconvene at dinner.”

Relief flowed over you as the young maid walked up from her spot off to the side, curtsied in front of you, and turned to leave the room. Finally, you’d be allowed to rest and you didn’t have to meet your possible future husband quite yet. In fact, the more you were able to put it off, the happier you would be.

In a very un-ladylike manner, you flopped down on the bed as soon as the maid Sohee was gone and the door was closed. Staring up at the ceiling, you blew air out from between your lips. Should you start counting down the days until you were allowed to go back home now?

“Oh, it isn’t even that bad,” Edna scolded you. “The Duke and Duchess were friendly enough.”

“For now,” you mumbled. It was true that their greeting was warm and they seemed genuine in wanting you here. But the childhood fears and scene of imagination that you’d grown up with weren’t easily tossed away.

Edna sat down next to you on the bed and coaxed you into a sitting position. “I know you’re tired of hearing it all, but this is truly for the good of your people and your own future.”

“I don’t exactly remember consenting to any of this.”

Shaking her head, Edna fixed a strand of your hair that had fallen onto your face. “That’s the sacrifice to be made in order to live a comfortable life.”

“Comfortable is not the word I would use,” you argued. How could a life dictated by marriages and land and being in the King’s favor be comfortable? You’d much rather be free, allowed to fall in love with whoever you desired and to go places when you wished – and avoid the ones you wanted.

“You have much more than most,” Enda reminded you.

You bit back your tongue out at her back as she stood up, knowing any further argument was useless. Like you weren’t reminded of that on a daily basis. Did their struggles suddenly make your own invalid?

The muffled sound of clashing metal interrupted your thoughts. Curious, you went over to the slim window that let in the sunlight into your new room. Just outside on the ground below you were a group of four or five men all attacking one central character. Even from here you could tell that he was tired, but he didn’t give up. He kept swinging his sword, blocking blows and delivering attacks of his own. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop one of the other men from getting the better of him. He caught the lone fighter around the ankle, pulling his leg until he fell backwards. You flinched at how much that must have hurt.

As if he’d sensed you watching, the man looked up at you. You only allowed for a brief moment of eye contact before you quickly turned around, your heart pounding in your chest from being caught.

“What has you all excited?” Edna teased as she started to unpack your trunk.

“I am not excited.”

She chuckled at you, straightening up and placing a hand against your cheek. “The warmth of your face says otherwise.” Peeking over your shoulder she chuckled again. “It looks like his grace is still busy practicing his swordsmanship.”

Your eyes widened as you flipped back over to look out the window again. “That’s the Duke’s son?”

He was… scrawnier than you imagined. More lean than the barrel chested nobles you’d met in the past. Granted, they were built that way in order to wear heavy armor day in and day out.

Over the sight, you went back to your bed, hoping to get some true rest in before you were forced to meet him face to face. He may have been physically different than what you’d thought, you were sure you would be more correct on his personality. After all, rumors had to have some basis of truth, right?

A few hours later you were summoned for dinner. Edna was allowed to come with you and she took the seat to your right at the long banquet table.

To be honest, you were a little surprised to see only the Duke and Duchess sitting at the table ready to eat and converse. You were starting to get the feeling that you weren’t the only one dreading this meeting. If he was going to avoid you as much as he could then you wouldn’t complain. Perhaps if the two of you never met, you would be allowed to go home with no commitments and no hostility. After all, it wouldn’t be your fault there was no marriage.

However, those hopes were dashed when the doors across the dining hall opened and the man from the earlier scrimmage strolled in. He barely nodded to his parents before settling into the chair across from you. It was as if you were completely invisible and you couldn’t help but feel slightly offended. Sure, the avoidance and tardiness you could accept and deal with, but being blatantly ignored was… well, it was hurting your feelings for lack of a better description.

“Thank you for joining us, Sehun,” the Duchess said in a voice that was simultaneously sweet and scolding.

“Training ran late,” he said in a low tone. He made eye contact with no one, keeping his concentration on the food in front of him and filling his plate.

“At least you cleaned up,” the Duchess murmured.

“I’m sorry for my son’s rudeness,” the Duke said to you. “He should take a moment to introduce himself since he did not greet you earlier.”

Sehun paused, looking at his father questionably. When the Duke did not relent on the stern glare he was sending his son, Sehun sighed and fell back into his chair before finally standing up and bowing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady (y/n).”

You were surprised to the point of almost forgetting to nod back in acknowledgement. The fact that he knew your name…. Surely he’d just heard it from his parents enough that it sunk in beyond his control. But he kept staring at you with those dark brown eyes that were almost black. They were nearly unreadable, blank and impenetrable. You argued with yourself whether or not there were actually thoughts behind them and he was simply that good at masking it or if his mind was as truly empty as he was making it seem. If you were to be stuck with him the rest of your life, you really hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Dinner went about in a more uninteresting manner. The Duchess would occasionally ask you about your upbringing, what you liked to do in your spare time. Once in a while, the Duke would comment as well or insert a question of his own in regards to your father’s dealings. Sehun, however, had gone to his previous mindset of pretending no one else was there. Part of you wished that he would open up, saying something, anything.

“If you’ll excuse me, your Grace,” you said quietly. “I’m still a bit tired from my journey. Would you please allow me to return to my room?”

“Of course,” the Duke nodded. “We’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.”

You gave them each a curtsied (although the energy felt wasted upon Sehun) and headed off to your room with Edna in tow.

“You didn’t have to come with me,” you told her back in your room.

“If I hadn’t I might have given that Sehun boy a tongue lashing for how he acted,” she grumbled.

You smiled at her. “Yes, it was quite rude, wasn’t it? But what can you do? I’m not going to force him into conversation. Not today, at least.”

“Not today?” Edna raised an eyebrow at you.

You tried to keep your face innocent, but it was useless. “You know me too well. The odds of me getting out of this marriage are slim. Might as well see if the rumors of his manners are true.”

Edna narrowed her eyes at you cheekily. “You think he’s handsome, don’t you?”

That got a scoff out of you. “I do not. He’s thin and his chin is pointy and you know I prefer lighter eyes.”

But your argument fell flat. “That’s a strong chin he has. And he isn’t sickly. From the way he was swinging that sword… he isn’t weak either.”

“That hardly means anything.” You were coming up empty on any meaningful fight back.

“Keep telling yourself that. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was muscle underneath that tunic,” she said as she helped you out of your dress. “But I think getting to know him is a wonderful idea. You might like what you find.”

Rolling your eyes, you crawled in between the sheets and shoved your face into the pillow. It was a useless effort, but you wanted to stop yourself from thinking of Sehun before drifting off to sleep.

The next day after breakfast, you thought you were to get to know your future family. However, the Duke had duties out in the fields and the Duchess was meeting with the wives of the lower nobles. Sehun… you weren’t sure where he was exactly, only that he disappeared soon after finishing his meal.

So, you gave Edna the morning off and took to exploring the castle grounds on your own.

The garden was beautiful. Hedges twice your height nearly blocked out the sky. They were trimmed to perfect rectangles, little buds blooming spontaneously among the leaves. Flowers – both domestic and exotic – grew everywhere along the paths that twisted and turned within the walls of the garden.

A smile grew on your face as you came across a bush of white roses. Taking the small knife out from your boot (Edna insisted on carrying protection at all times), you cute off three fully bloomed roses and headed back inside. After convincing one of the maids to fetch you vases and dyed cloth, you went to the library. In a corner near the window, you took the roses and put them in the vases freshly filled with water. Cutting the dark blue fabric, you placed the pieces in the water near the bottom of the vase.

“Are you trying to poison the flower?”

The sudden visitor made you jump in surprise, nearly knocking the vase on the table over. You turned to simply explain what you were doing, but your lips formed a pout when you realized it was Sehun.

“No,” you snapped. “I’m dyeing the petals.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Because I like strange colored flowers. Blue and purple roses aren’t exactly found in nature.”

“Isn’t it a bit wasteful?” he asked. You thought for a moment that he would sit down and join you at the table, but he remained standing, hands folded behind his back.

“Wasteful?” you echoed.

“Blue and purple fabrics are the most expensive and yet you’re putting them in water. To dye flowers.”

“So beauty should only be allowed upon a person’s body?” Standing up, you took one of the vases and pushed it towards Sehun’s chest who barely caught the poor flower in time for it to not crash down to the floor. “Watch that over the next few days. You might be surprised at what grows before your eyes.” You turned and picked up the remaining flowers and scraps of cloth.

“Is that supposed to be a metaphor for our own relationship?” he asked out of nowhere.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. “I wasn’t aware that we had one.” And with that, you left the study, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

Your last quip to Sehun must have put a chink in his cold armor. For the rest of the day, you didn’t see him, even at meal times. A worried look refused to leave the Duchess’ face all throughout the evening. Her eyes flickered to the chair that Sehun had occupied the day before.

The Duke was the first to excuse himself from the table, leaving you and Edna alone with the Duchess.

“Lady (y/n)?”

You reluctantly raised your gaze from the plate in front of you to your gracious host. “Yes?”

“I would like to speak with you alone.” It was not a request that gave room for refusal. Even if you were able to say no, was there really any reason to?

“I’ll see you in your room,” Edna said as she stood up from her seat. Before exiting through the door, she gave you a last glance over her shoulder.

The Duchess stood up and took over Edna’s seat, picking up your hand in hers. “I understand that this must be a confusing time for you.”

Confusing? No, not really. You knew what was expected of this “visit”. Trying? Frustrating? Irritating? Those descriptors would be much more accurate. But you didn’t correct her out loud.

“We didn’t fully prepare Sehun for this possibility,” the Duchess confessed to you. “He was only aware of you coming here a few days ago. When it was explained what the hopeful outcome would be… well, he’s always been a free spirit. A bit of cliche way to describe one’s child, but it’s true. He’s always followed his own way. So, being told what would be expected of him - especially when marriage has never been an idea he was fond of - its taken its toll on him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked bravely when she’d taken a moment to pause.

“Because I want you to put more effort on your end to get to know him,” the Duchess said with a smile. “He won’t come to you, not if left alone. The King wants this union, but Sehun doesn’t care about that. I see a light in you that might attract him, if given the time.”

You couldn’t quite find it in you to return the smile. “So, you want to force myself upon him?”

“Not in any sort of obvious way, but, essentially… yes. For the sake of both of our territories.”

With that, she patted your head and left the dining hall.

You didn’t really want to get to know the man. You were quite alright with the idea of him not liking the idea of marriage. Perhaps your previous hope of this not coming to fruition could still come together.

But what you didn’t know was that Sehun was not as uninterested as you’d previously suspected or as the Duchess had spoken about.

From a shadowed corner of the hall, Sehun watched you get up from the table and leave the room. Something along the lines of curiosity was brewing inside. He’d never cared for the ladies that hung around the castle in the past.

Before the King had passed down this “wish”, daughters of lesser nobles and rich merchants in town tried their hardest to capture his attention. They always failed. Perhaps it was because you were something new that he was more intrigued than he should have been. Someone he hadn’t seen grow up through the many balls and dinners his parents had hosted through the years.

Or maybe it was because you didn’t seem on board for this marriage either. Earlier in the library, you didn’t bat your eyes at him or use flirty lines. You seemed more annoyed than anything that he'd interrupted you and questioned what you were doing. The flower you’d given him was still starking white, causing him to think that you might have been making up what you were doing.

Sighing to himself, Sehun waltzed up to the table and made himself a plate of food while trying to stay out of the way of the servants who were cleaning up.

“Feel free to take whatever leftovers you want,” he said softly to the younger ones. They were only children, twelve years old or so. Smiles shined on their faces as they bowed their heads to him.

“Thank you, my lord!” they cheered. He returned the gesture with a small grin of his own, ruffling the youngest boy’s hair before heading to his room for the night.

You were cringing inside as you slowly made your way to the practice field outside near the stables. One of the kitchen boys had told you that Sehun was out here with his bow perfecting his aim. The information seemed to be correct as you grew closer to the archery lanes. It didn’t stop you from questioning why you were bothering with this.

All by himself, Sehun drew back arrow after arrow, hitting the center circle nearly every time.

“You’re rather good at that,” you complimented just in time to surprise him and throw off his aim. You couldn’t help but giggle at his exasperated state when the arrow hit the outermost ring.

“Is there something I can help you with, Lady (y/n)?” he asked, obviously frustrated. The tightness of his eyebrows and the downturn of his lips told you that he might prefer if you went away, but you’d told the Duchess that you would try. Somewhat. Besides, Edna was right. While he wasn’t anything like the knights and barons you were used to, he was a bit handsome. Or… maybe more than a bit….

You shrugged. “I was simply bored and thought I would join you and get some practice of my own in.”

“Do you know how to use one of these?” Sehun challenged.

You scoffed at the insult. “I am more than adequate at archery.”

“Really?” He raised that stupid eyebrow at you again. Then he held his bow out for you. “Let’s see then.”

Confident in your abilities, you snatched the bow out of his grasp and plucked an arrow out of the quiver sitting on the ground. Adjusting your stance, you held up the bow and docked the arrow. It took a bit more strength that you were used to in order to pull back on the string, but you managed to hold it long enough to set up your sight. However, when you let go, you were a little disappointed in the landing of the arrow, hitting the round straw target in one of the middle rings.

“Not… terrible,” Sehun said. You could hear the amusement in his voice. “Better than most ladies, I’m sure.” Well, at least that was sort of a compliment. “Let me show you how to improve.” He stepped towards you, which in turn made you step back.

“What are you doing?” you snapped.

He sighed. “I’m trying to show you how to do it better. Or do you not want to ever hit the bullseye?”

He was challenging you again. Let him get close or run away. Well, you certainly weren’t going to take the second choice.

This time you stayed put when he stepped closer. You even allowed him to turn you back towards the target with his hands on your hips. His back was nearly against your shoulder blades. You were a little too aware of him, his breath on your neck and his fingers on top of yours as he helped you lift the bow and pull back on the arrow.

“Lower your elbow,” he whispered in your ear. It was much lower and huskier than it ever needed to be, letting you know that he was very aware of what he was doing. The only question: was he doing this to see how much he could play with you? A small part of you truly hoped that he wasn’t. “Don’t pull too tight or your arm will start shaking. The tension in the string is enough to send it flying without too much work on your end. And don’t aim for the dot. Instead, aim just above it. The farther you are away, the higher you need to aim as the arrow will drop as it flies.”

You were barely acknowledging what he was saying. As hard as you tried, you couldn’t concentrate on anything other than him. This probably wasn’t what the Duchess had in mind when she asked you to get to know her son.

“Are you listening?” Sehun asked, apparently noticing the way your mind was wondering.

“Huh? Yes, of course.” No, of course not.

“Okay. Good. Then let go when you’re ready.”

You tried to recall what he’d said previously, aiming above the bullseye. Letting go, you watched the arrow fly, hitting just to the left of the large red dot.

“Better,” Sehun nodded behind you. He didn’t seem to be aware that he was still so close.

Looking back at him, you studied his face. The conflicting way his eyes and nose seemed so soft, but his chin and mouth sharpened out his features, putting him halfway between boy and man. Almost subconsciously, he placed a hand on your shoulder, causing your heart to jump into a frenzy. You hardly knew this person. Why were you acting this way?

“How’s my flower?” you asked in order to distract yourself.

“Hm?” He looked to you, still not moving to create space. “Your flower? Oh, right. It’s still white.”

“Well, of course it is,” you laughed. “It takes time for it to turn colors. Perhaps this is meant to teach you patience.”

“Or you’re simply playing with me.”

You shook your head. “I don’t play games.”

“Good,” was his reply. It seemed forever went by as the two of you just stared at each other, unsure of where to go from there but neither willing to walk away.

“Lady (y/n)!”

You jumped back at the sound of your name, not as relieved as you should have been by the interruption.

Edna hurried up to you, a twitch giving away her position on what she’d stumbled upon. “It’s time to get ready for dinner,” she told you.

Nodding a little too eagerly, you curtsied a goodbye to Sehun, handing him back his bow and quickly following Edna back to the castle.

“Don’t,” you told her once the two of you were far enough away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Edna chuckled.

“Yes, you do,” you growled through clenched teeth. “So, don’t even think about it.”

Her response was a smirk.

Something happened after that day in the field. Over the next two weeks, you and Sehun spent more and more time together.

It was never on purpose. Neither of you sought out the other, but when you did run into him, you ended up spending several hours talking. The more you learned about him, the more your anxiety on the possible marriage faded away. While he occasionally had some childish tendencies, you saw his kindness towards the servants, particularly the younger ones. He was only slightly spoiled, but not to the point where it turned you away from him. In fact, there were times you found it enduring. An odd response, you were aware, but you couldn’t help it.

The two of you were walking through the gardens when the steward arrived.

“What is it?” Sehun asked.

“The Duke is requesting your presence,” the steward replied.

Sehun nodded and then turned to you to bow. “I’ll find you again later.”

“Actually, he is wanting to see you both.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. Was this it? Were you expected to agree to a wedding this soon? As much as you’ve enjoyed getting to know Sehun, your feelings for him growing every day, you weren’t sure if you were ready for that step.

The two of you followed the steward back inside and through the hallways until you arrived in the Great Hall. Sitting in their regal seats were the Duke and Duchess. Edna stood off to the side, a pale envelope in her hand.

“What’s going on?” Sehun inquired.

“A letter has arrived from Lady (y/n)’s parents,” the Duke answered. On queue, Edna stepped forward and handed you the envelope. A knowing smile played at her lips, but she kept quiet.

With shaking hands, you opened the letter and began to read. But where you had been expecting an urge to get married, you received terrible news instead. It must have been written all over your face.

Sehun came closer to you, his hand on your elbow. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The Baron of Haeju has attacked our city,” you said quietly in a trembling voice. “My father’s knights are holding him back, but they’re asking for help.” You looked up at the Duke pleadingly. “They might not be able to win this on their own.”

��The Baron of Haeju?” the Duke echoed. He glanced over his wife before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Lady (y/n), but I can’t send my men to assist your father.”

You gaped at him. “Wasn’t the point of me coming here to unite our lands? To heal the wounds between our families? My parents are asking for help, but you’re turning your back on them already?”

“My duty is to put my own people first,” the Duke argued.

“Father, certainly we can spare a few men,” Sehun urged.

The Duke shook his head. “No. Our relationship with the Baron has been strained far worse recently despite the amount of trade we do with his merchants. I can’t risk cutting those ties and starving our people.”

“So, you would go against the King?” you challenged.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“Then there’s no reason for me to stay any longer.” Turning on your feet, you stormed out of the hall with Edna.

“(y/n)! Wait!” Sehun blocked your path to your room, desperation on his face. He grasped your shoulders in an effort to hold you down. “Please, don’t go!”

“There’s no point in my staying here,” you told him. “My people need me and your father isn’t willing to help. I came here because of an alliance, but your father isn’t holding up his end of the bargain.” Your heart was breaking. You wanted to stay with him. You were falling for him. But your own sense of duty and pride was too overwhelming to ignore. Kissing his cheek, you settled into your decision. “I’ve enjoyed every second with you and I won’t forget you. Ever. Please be happy.” Before you could let the slightest seed of doubt start to grow, you ran past him.

Not even half an hour later, you were in a carriage and headed home. Your father needed the few knights that had accompanied you here. Behind you, what was once a promising future was fading in the distance.

“How could you let her go?!” Sehun yelled as his parents stared at him indifferently.

“Decisions like this occur all the time,” his father sighed. “When you are the protector of this land, you will understand.”

“I thought you didn’t care for this marriage?” his mother asked.

The question made Sehun step back. “Well, I- I mean-” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Father’s made his decision.” He ran out of the Great Hall before his parents could question him further.

In his room, he sat on the floor, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. His morning had started out so well. He’d enjoyed talking to you in the garden, the one place that seemed to make you truly happy here. Even though you were listening to him, you would stop and feel the petals of the plants between your fingers, holding the flowers gently in your palm.

And now you were gone.

On the mantle above the fireplace, the rose you’d given him stared at him. The edges had turned blue, just as you predicted.

Standing up, he went over to the mantle and took hold of the flower. Already, it was starting to die, to wither away. Soon, he would have to toss it. But he didn’t want to let it go. He didn’t want to let you go.

His mind was made up. Surely, you hadn’t gone too far yet.

Bursting out of his room, he ran to find his most trusted men. They would follow him to help save your people, he was sure of it. In the stables, he was busy saddling his horse as Jongin, Tao, and Luhan did the same around him. Others waited to join them outside.

“You’re going after her, aren’t you?”

He didn’t look to his mother as he nodded. “I have to. I can’t let her walk into a fight. Not when I can protect her.”

“Good. You love her, I can tell. I couldn’t ask for a better outcome.”

Peeking over his shoulder, he frowned. “Did you know that would happen?”

“Of course not,” she said. “But I hoped you would open your heart to her. It tends to make these arrangements easier.”

Shaking his head, he kissed his mother’s cheek and then mounted his horse. “Let’s go!”

The group took off, galloping full speed down the road that would lead him back to you. With a lighter load, they had the advantage in catching up to you, but it would still take too long for Sehun’s liking.

It seemed like hours had gone by and he could feel his horse growing tired.

“Maybe we should rest,” Jongin yelled over the heavy beating of hooves against the dirt road.

As much as Sehun wanted to argue, he knew they couldn’t keep going like this. But he was granted one last miracle. Just as he was beginning to pull back on his reigns, a carriage came into view, prompting him to go faster. He recognized the coachman and the knights surrounding the carriage. It really was you.

He pulled up alongside the carriage before overtaking it, forcing it to a stop or be responsible for a terrible collision.

“What’s going on?” Your companion, Edna, stuck her head out the window, eyes widening when she caught sight of Sehun. “Lady (y/n)!”

“What is it?” You, too, looked out the window and gasped. Pushing the door open, you jumped out while at the same time Sehun dismounted, running to you. He took you in his arms, holding you tight against his chest. “What are you doing here?” you demanded when you pushed back.

“I’m not letting you leave like this,” he declared. Then, he bent his head, connecting his lips to yours.When he pulled back, the corners of your mouth were pulling up. It made his heart warm to see you like that. “First, my men and I are going to help defend your home. And then, I’m going to marry you as promised.”

Tears pooled in your eyes that sparkled at him. “Why?”

“Because I’ve fallen for you like a petal falls from a flower.” From his tunic, he pulled out the now somewhat squished blue rose.

“It turned blue,” you smiled.

“Just like you said.” He swooped in for another kiss, happy to have you in his arms. He wasn’t sure if his plan to join your father’s men would work, but that was a risk he was willing to take to be with you. Only a month ago, you were the daughter of his father’s enemy. Now, you were his blue rose; unique, different, and forever close to his heart.

#exo #exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #sehun x reader #oh sehun #exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo enemies to lovers au #sehun x fem!reader #fluff #angst #kpop

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krillin-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Revelations

Here we go, my humble submission for K18 Day 2020! The prompt was “Relationship Reveal”*, I believe, so I went with a version of how I think it might have unfolded. If you prefer to read it on the fic sites, here’s the links: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092562/chapters/64659265 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12652303/15/The-Chestnut-Festival And now, on with the show!

The first time they told someone, it was an accident.

Krillin and 18 had been visiting Chi-Chi and her boys that day. It'd been nothing unusual for them; 18 had long ago gotten over her shyness around the other woman due to Krillin's insistence he spend time helping her with her home and her son and 18's reluctance to be left alone anywhere within fifty feet of the old man and the pig. (And being honest? Most humans were just dull or annoyed her) and thus 18 found herself typically in the company of the woman she'd only really known as "Goku's wife". Much to 18's surprise, she was quite outgoing... and surprisingly forgiving of the whole "an evil doctor kidnapped me and turned me into a cyborg to kill your husband" thing. She'd even started inviting 18 to come visit her even without Krillin and had come to greatly enjoy her company. In fact, 18 found herself considering the rather friendly-but-feisty woman to be one of the only two friends she really had.

A loud whoop and a giggling taunt could be heard from the side yard, and she smiled. The two kids Chi-Chi had certainly didn't hurt, either.18 had been apprehensive around the older boy, Gohan, at first; between not being the most sociable of people and the strangeness of the little bookworm being able to crush a monster as powerful as Cell, one couldn't exactly blame her. But over the past year, she'd found him to be quite friendly and accepting of her, a trait, Krillin had told her, he inherited from his father. 18 found herself enjoying spending time with the lad too, listening along with Krillin and his mother as the boy would ramble on and on about some fascinating new factoid he'd rad, or playing baseball with the boy outside. (She noted with pride that, despite the boy's fearsome strength and blinding speed, he could still never manage to hit her changeup.)

A tiny squeak and a yawn emanated from the tiny, spiky-haired bundle in 18's arms caught her attention. 18 remembered the day they'd gone to visit after little Goten had been born and being petrified. Being around a kid was something she was just getting used to, but a baby? 18 had been stiff and standoffish for nearly that whole night. And for Chi-Chi to actually ask her to hold him barely a week later? Babies were loud, smelly, delicate, and uncomfortable, there was no way she'd even consider it!

Until finally, one day, out of necessity... she caved. Chi-Chi had been trying to juggle cooking and caring for a fussy baby, and 18 being unwilling to see this much struggling, took the baby for a moment. And she immediately fell in love with the little bundle. The poofy hair, the tiny hands and feet, that adorable smile and giggle... The little Saiyan had 18 enamored with him in no time flat, and whenever Chi-Chi or Gohan weren't holding him, it seemed 18 or Krillin were. She smiled at the little one as he smacked his lips and drifted back to sleep.

"You really are so good with him." 18 looked up to see Chi-Chi with a tray of steaming hot tea, smiling. "I haven't seen him sleep this soundly in a little while. He seems to find you quite comforting."

18 couldn't help but allow herself an amused smirk at the irony. "He's a good little guy," she replied. "Almost hard to believe he's such a loud ball of energy when he's awake."

Chi-Chi set down her tray and chuckled, taking a seat on the sofa next to her. "He's very much like his father that way." 18 handed the baby over to her and she kissed his forehead gently before laying him in the rocking bed by her feet. "I tell you, that man would sleep like a baby, dead to the world, calm and peaceful as can be. Then the next thing ya know, he's up and bouncing around and eating anything I didn't nail down to the table." She sweatdropped. "That was when I learned wax fruit was a no-no on the decoratin' front."

18 blew on her cup of tea and raised a brow. "He ate wax fruit Did he not stop when he realized?"

Chi-Chi picked up her cup and chuckled. "Nope. Just complained they were bitter. Told him it was wax fruit and he said not to pick fruit from the wax trees anymore." She smiled. "But then every morning, it was right over to little Gohan's crib. He was joined at the hip to that baby, I swear."

18 sipped her tea and smiled. "Had him wrapped around his finger, huh?"

"Oh gosh, you got no idea, hon. When Gohan was born, he was fascinated by him. Sometimes he'd just sit there staring at him like he was trying to figure him out. But before long, he was holding him constantly, taking naps with him..." her eyes widened "and I can't tell you how many times I had ta stop him from tryin' to share his food with him long before he was ready. Those were some hair-raising moments, I can tell you that."

Her face softened again. "Even when he'd go trainin' though, he always stayed closer to home, and started taking Gohan on trips with him so he could study the wildlife in the area while he did his workout." She put down her tea and smiled at her sleeping infant. "I'm sure he'd be the same way with Goten too. He wasn't always the best traditional father, but my Goku was a good papa."

18 traced the rim of her cup with a finger and smiled. "Sounds like it to me. I know my Krillin can be the same way. Absolutely loves kids, especially your boys."

Chi-Chi raised a brow for a moment, shocked. "O-oh!" she grinned. " Yes! He's been a very big help with Gohan. Can't think of anyone I'd rather have as a role model, ahaha!"

Now it was 18's turn to raise a brow as she sipped nervously. "Hmm."

"Jeez, kid, did you really have to throw the ball that hard? I think my hand might be numb for like a week."

The ladies glanced over in the direction of the opening front door to see Krillin enter the house, shirt and pants covered in grass stains, with an apologetic Gohan in tow, carrying a now-deflated football.

"I'm sorry, Krillin! Is your hand ok?"

Krillin laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine, relax." He held up a finger. "Your next assignment though: work on your control. Can't be tossing balls so hard they break in people's hands." He looked at Chi-Chi and 18 and smiled. "Sorry we took so long out there. Time kinda got away from us."

Chi-Chi waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, you're fine. We were just having a little girl talk, and I was just about to start making lunch anyhow." She gestured toward the sleeping bundle at her feet. "Gohan, would you please take your brother to his bed and get cleaned up? Seems he's out for the long haul."

"Sure thing, mom." Gohan gently scooped up his baby brother and started down the short hallway as Krillin took a seat on the arm of the sofa by 18.

Chi-Chi smoothed her dress. "Now then," she grinned at the two, "is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Krillin scratched his head in bewilderment. "Uh... you mean about Gohan? Well, he's at that age, so we did sort of have a puberty talk, but-"

Chi-Chi giggled ."I mean about you two, sillies!" She looked at 18. "I mean, how long have you two been a couple and you didn't even tell me?!"

18 visibly tensed but her face remained set in stone. "I'm sorry... what are you talking abo-"

"Ah-ah! Nope!" Chi-Chi held up a finger. "No playing dumb with me, miss! I'd been wondering for a little while now. The looks you two shoot each other," she gestured at their seating arrangement. "The way you always have to be close to each other." She winked at 18. "And just now you called him your Krillin. That's not something that 'just happens' when talking about a friend."

Krillin's jaw dropped a little as 18's face flushed a deep red. He put a hand on 18's shoulder. "18... babe, did you tell her?"

18, still tense and red-faced, nodded slowly. "Y-yeah. So what? Maybe I'm just tired of pretending, huh? Maybe I wanna talk to my only other friend about stuff too..."

Krillin hopped off the couch and kneeled in front of her. "Nono, hon, you don't have to defend that decision to me. We discussed this, 'member? Whenever you're ready, right?" 18 nodded and he smiled, his own face flushing as well.

"Uhm... Chi-Chi," he turned to her. "Please, can you just... keep this between us for now? Please." He took 18's hand in his and she gripped it tightly. "18's never really had much privacy in her life, and she was super worried about people trying to pry and being nosy... we agreed to keep this a secret until she was ready to tell people herself. So please, especially not Bulma. You know how she can be..."

Chi-Chi put both hands up. "Oh, of course, of course! I completely understand. Secret's safe with me, honest." She shifted forward and rested her chin in her hand. "But uh... how long? When did it happen?"

"A few weeks ago..." 18 spoke up, finally shifting her gaze from the floor to her friend again, cheeks still red. "We... we were stargazing on the roof when the old man was gone. Like we usually do, and... I dunno what it was, but something just felt different. Like... I felt really happy, y'know? And.. weirdly safe. Like there was nothing in the world that could have touched me in that moment." 18 smiled softly. "And he... told me I looked really pretty in the moonlight. In this way that felt so sincere and honest... I asked to hear it again. And again. And then..."

"She kissed me," Krillin interrupted, a big dopey grin on his face. "Ow!" he rubbed his shoulder where 18 slugged him. "What?"

"Don't interrupt, goon." 18 scowled, but there was a playfulness to her eyes that betrayed her.

"Apologies, miss. I shan't interrupt again." he kissed her hand softly, and 18 blushed even harder, hiding her face behind a shirt sleeve.

Chi-Chi squealed. "Oh my gosh, you two are just too adorable!" She planted a hand on both their shoulders. "Congratulations, you two! Honestly, it was about time you finally pulled the trigger on this. I think I knew before either of you did." She laughed as the two nervously looked away.

"H-how?"

Chi-Chi smirked slyly. "Well it's not as if Krillin kept his feelings a secret, I've known him for years and his emotions are easy to read as a book. But you..." she shook a finger at 18. "You took a bit longer, but it wasn't hard to see he was more than just a friend to you. I'd say it was probably around the time you started asking me to teach you how to cook that I knew for sure." She winked. "These boys are all the same, the way to the heart is through the stomach."

As if on cue, Krillin's stomach growled and 18 chuckled. "Well it was either that or give him food poisoning, I suppose."

Chi-Chi stood and pumped a fist. "Right! Well, I better get lunch going. Gohan's no doubt close to done cleaning up, and I'm sure he'll be starved too." She cast a side-eye at 18. "Be glad you're not cooking for Saiyans, dear. Lemme tell you, it's a full-time job."

She trotted to the kitchen, pulled out a big pot, and started filling it with water, sparing the occasional glance up to see the two lovebirds in their own little world, holding hands, talking happily, and stealing the occasional kiss. She smiled. 'They look so happy.'

18 gripped Krillin's hand just a tiny bit tighter The initial nerves had subsided. She was glad she'd told, to be honest, and happier still that Chi-Chi agreed to keep it a secret, but there was still that lingering sense of paranoia she couldn't quite shake. Her privacy and autonomy were things she highly valued, and the idea of certain people prying and wanting to grill her for information on her personal life still scared her. But...

She smiled.

But now she had Krillin. Her Krillin. Her best friend, her support... and now more.

And somehow, she knew, everything would be alright.

#K18Day20 #Chestnutfest20 #K18 #Krillin #Android18 #Kruirin #Juuhachigou #Android Eighteen #Lazuli #Dragon Ball #Dragon Ball Z #Dragon Ball Super #DB #DBZ #DBS #Dragonball #Dragonball Z

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apenapaperandadoofus · 4 years ago

Note

What about an angsty heartbreak where the RFA cheats on MC. Oof. Here come waterworks ;;M;; in a mood for big Sad Heartbreak and another one of the RFA comforting them

Oh damnnn heck yeah!

Breaking up with the RFA because they cheat on MC

Zen:

“Babe, please listen to me, I didn’t even mean it, and it was just once just please-please listen to me!!”

You were furiously packing your bags while Zen was trailing behind you, panic in his voice

One night he admitted to you that he had cheated on you with one of his co-workers

You felt hurt

What did you do?

Were you not enough for him?

“Listen Y/N, I wasn’t thinking straight, I was drunk and-”

“Oh so that’s your excuse now?! You were drunk? What the fuck is wrong with you?! It’s over Zen!!”

Zen was speechless. His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out

Then he looked at you and said, almost whispering

“Please Y/N. I love you. I love you so much please don’t go, I can’t- I can’t do this without you, they didn’t even mean anything to me but you, you’re everything please just stay and let’s talk about this-”

“Zen please stop. I’ve heard enough. I’m leaving. Don’t call me.”

You ignored Zen’s protest as you made your way out of the house

You quickly texted Jaehee if you could crash at her place and she hestitanly said yes, not knowing what was going on

When she opened the door you hugged her and started crying

Both of you stood there while she rubbed your back, trying her best to comfort you although she didn’t know what happened

Even though Jaehee was one of your closest friends

As soon as you went inside her house you regretted it

Since there were so many things of Zen

Your heart clenched and you tried to look somewhere, anywhere else that his face wouldn’t be looking at you

As your phone buzzed with calls and text messages you decided to turn them off

Then Jaehee made you some tea and sat on the couch

“Y/N....would you like to talk about it?”

You gulped while looking at your cup

You didn’t really want to tell her, I mean she admired Zen so much and you didn’t want to tell her something bad about her idol

But you needed to vent

So you quickly told her about everything. How Zen cheated on you, when he confessed it to you and you quickly left the house

Jaehee was speechless

Her admiration for Zen quickly faded

The rest of the day she spent time with you, comforting and cooking for you

Yoosung:

“I’m sorry Y/N....” Yoosung looked at the ground, his face full of shame

You were sitting on the couch, speechless. You didn’t hear him correctly did you?

“Yoosung...you can’t be serious....”

“I’m sorry. I was- it was an accident-”

“How the fuck is sleeping with another person an ACCIDENT?!”

Yoosung bit his lip, tears forming on the corner of his eyes

You stood up and made your way to your bedroom

“Y/N just, please I’m really really sorry! I obviously love you, so so much and, I, it wasn’t-”

“Pack your things.”

Yoosung’s eyes widened and filled with panic

“No! Please I really am sorry!! Please Y/N, please don’t do this!”

You threw his suitcase on the ground, your lips forming a straight line

“You have twenty minutes. When I come back I don’t want to see you or anything of your things. Delete my number. Don’t talk to me.”

Yoosung was about to say something but you raised your hand, gesturing for him to shut up

“Don’t say anything. You fucked up Yoosung. We’re over. And I never want to see you again.”

You slammed the door as you left your apartment.

You didn’t know exactly where you were going, and you spent hours walking around, not holding your tears back anymore

It was raining, but you didn’t care. You were too hurt

As you made your way around town, a car suddenly pulled up in front of you and honked

You stopped as the car door quickly opened. Your vision was blurry but you could make out a man holding an umbrella and making his way to you

“Y/N?” The figure quickly made his way over to you and kept calling your name

That voice...

Jumin

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and helped you walk over to his car

When you got in you were soaking wet, but Jumin didn’t seem to care

He took off his jacket and placed it around you

And then he motioned for driver Kim to start driving again

You sniffled and Jumin looked at you, his face full of worry

“I’m sure you’re cold...walking around while it’s pouring...Y/N, are you alright? What were you doing?”

You looked at him and started crying again, telling him about Yoosung

His face the whole time was stone cold as he heard you talking

When you finished he moved closer you you and awkwardly hugged you

“Y/N, I know I’m not the best at this, but please know that the RFA and me will always be here for you. You’re a strong and amazing person, I’m sure you’ll get through this. What he did...Yoosung...”

He sighed and let go of you

“That was the worst mistake he could have ever made. The boy doesn’t realize that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

Jumin let you stay at his place that night, he put on your favorite show and asked the chef to make your favorite food, he even let you play with Elizabeth the third

He didn’t really know what else to do, but every moment he was there to comfort you

Jaehee:

“I’m sorry Y/N. You were always there for me and stood up for me...and...I guess I misinterpreted my feelings for you...”

You were quiet trying to process what Jaehee had just told you.

“You’re an amazing person Y/N, and I love you....just...not that way...”

You sighed and looked at Jaehee

“So, when did you realize your actual feelings for me? Why didn’t you just tell me instead of going behind my back and seeing another person?”

Jaehee was crying, and she was trying her best to not look at you

“I just didn’t want to hurt you-”

“JAEHEE YOU CHEATED ON ME?! Do you realize telling me would have been easier? Instead you decided to hurt me twice as much! If you were tired why didn’t you tell me? Why did you stay quiet and acted as if you actually cared about me?! You’re horrible!”

Jaehee sniffed and wiped her tears

You later decided to leave

You took your stuff and didn’t even tell Jaehee you were leaving

You walked around, trying your best to hold back your tears

Then you stood in front of a familiar door

You didn’t really know why you decided to come here

You hestitanly knocked on the door and a few seconds later it opened.

“Y/N, hey I didn’t expect you to come here! What’s up?”

Zen smiled at you, but it quickly faded as he saw your face.

“Hey what happened?” Zen pulled you inside, and led you to the living room.

When you got there Zen was about to ask you something when you threw your arms around him and started sobbing

Zen was shocked, but hugged you tightly and rubbed your back, whispering that it was all going to be ok.

When you calmed down you told Zen what happened

He was...just speechless

Zen never thought Jaehee would be able to do something like that

He offered to let you stay in his apartment for a while, and he basically forced you to stay because he didn’t want you to go somewhere else on your own

He spent all his time bringing you food and bought some beers to try and make you feel better

Jumin:

You cried while looking out the balcony

That morning you found out Jumin had cheated on you with one of his clients

You were shocked

You just went outside and waited for him to come home

When Jumin opened the door he was confused as to why you didn’t come and greet him like always

He looked for you everywhere and finally found you on the balcony

“Love? Are you alright? Why are you here?”

You didn’t answer him.

Jumin was about to say something else when you turned around to look at him

“Why did you do it? Why did you cheat on me?”

Jumin’s eyes widened and he took a few steps back, his face full of shock and guilt. He rubbed his temples and looked at you

“How did you find out?” He quietly asked

You scoffed and walked over to your living room, Jumin following behind you.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You told him.

“Love, listen to me. It was an accident. We got drunk and you know the way that I get clients to sign the contract. I love you, you’re everything to me, please understand that I wasn’t thinking straight, I had drank far too much and-”

“Jumin. Stop making up excuses.”

You paced around the room and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Was it me? Did I do something? All this time I thought everything was perfect between us. Do you know how much I’ve struggled to try and be the perfect wife for you?! And then you go and sleep around with that-that woman who you don’t even know!”

Jumin looked at the ground ashamed while you felt yourself get more and more mad

“And then you just say you were drunk! Jumin why?! How could you do this to me?! You-you goddamn...ugh!!! Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

You felt tears fall from your eyes and you made your way to Jumin, slamming your first against his chest

“Say something! Jumin you cheated on me, and then you acted as if nothing happened! Why the fuck would you do that?!”

He just stayed quiet

“You know what Jumin? It’s over.” You spat

He quickly looked up at you and grabbed your hand

“Love, no please, I-I don’t know what I would do without you, please don’t leave, I am sorry, I really am! Please...” he cried desperately

You glared back at him and pulled your hand away from his

“No. You know what Jumin...I still love you. I do. But you just....you screwed everything up. The funny thing is, you’ve become the thing you hate the most. You’ve become just like your father...I guess the saying the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree is true.” You sarcastically chuckled.

“Goodbye Jumin. Please, don’t call me or text me. I don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore.”

“Y/N you don’t meant that. Please tell me you don’t mean that, we can work this out, I’m- I’m nothing like my father, I love you and only you, you’re the one that’s always been here for me, please Y/N!”

You had never seen him cry before

Your heart clenched

But what he did was unforgivable

You grabbed your suitcase, which you had packed before he came home and left the pent house without saying anything else

Jumin was left in the living room, crying all by himself

You called Seven and asked him if you could crash at his place

He honestly didn’t know what happened but you had never sounded so...sad like right now.

When you made it to his house Seven was waiting for you outside, a worried look on his face

You both went inside and sat on the couch, not saying anything for a bit

Then you buried your face in Seven’s shoulder and started crying

When you told him what Jumin had done he was furious

He was supposed to take care of you

Why the hell would he do this?!

You had to stop him from hacking into C&R to try and find something about Jumin

He was still pissed

So he took your phone and blocked all calls and texts from him, also blocking him from the chat room

Seven bought you ice cream and made you robots so you could think about something else.

He stayed by your side the whole time

Saeyoung:

“This was all temporary anyways so don’t act surprised. Us breaking up was unavoidable.”

You felt your heart break in pieces

Saeyoung had cheated on you. And now he was breaking up with you.

Why would he do this? You were both having fun and everything was going great between the both of you

So when he told you to break up and that he cheated on you all of a sudden you were...so shocked

“Saeyoung. Please. It’s not funny. Stop.”

“I’m not lying. I want your stuff packed by the end of the day.”

“Why all of a sudden?! Saeyoung everything was fine why the fuck would you-”

“Just shut up. What don’t you understand? I don’t want to be with you, it’s over Y/N!!”

Then, before you could say anything else he left the room.

A sob immediately escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth as the tears fell.

He’d didn’t care about you

He never loved you

This never meant anything to him

You quickly left without looking back and made your way to Yoosung’s house

He hugged you and let you stay over

Then he cooked some food and made some hot chocolate for you drink.

Yoosung was pissed. How could Saeyoung do this to you? What is wrong with him?!

He held you close in his arms as you cried, trying his best to soothe you until you fell asleep.

............

“Agent 707, you should have received the documents with your new identity this morning”

“Yes, I have them right here.”

“This mission is extremely important. So please stop worrying about the girl and focus on the task at hand. You knew from the very beginning that people like us don’t deserve any kind of relationship, it will only work as a weakness. You’re lucky the boss didn’t just straight up kill her. I’m hanging up know, report back when you’re done, and don’t disappoint us.”

He quickly hung up and gripped the documents tightly in his hands, trying to make sense of all the information they had given him.

But he couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes he would see your face.

Before he knew it he was crying, cursing everything.

He loved you so much. But he had to let you go or else you would be in danger.

He knew if he just broke up with you for no reason at all you would figure out what was happening pretty quickly

So he had to make up an excuse

As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them so much

But if he didn’t do this you could end up getting killed

He cried for a while until tears wouldn’t even form anymore

His heart was breaking in two

Saeyoung knew you would get over him in a few years, probably find someone else and start a family of your own

But...

He knew he would never move on

No matter how long it’s been or how much it slowly destroys him, Saeyoung will always love you.

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #yoosung kim #jumin han #jaehee kang #mysme zen #mysme #mysticmessenger

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cloveroctobers · 4 years ago

Text

ROBERT “BOBBY” MCKENZIE —

IG info/bio : @/returnofdamckenzie | 426k followers | @/mclitgs2 is my forever boo🤟🏽😍 while @/cardib is my WIFE! She just doesn’t know it yet ❤️ support my work & be part of my family: @/bobbymckcares

24 (25) years young

Born in Dundee, raised in Glasgow, Scotland

Jamaican father named Badrick who is a African studies professor

Caucasian/Scottish mother named Catriona who used to be a au pair but now works as a receptionist in senior living — one eye is honey hazel and the other a dark brown

It was difficult growing up in a school that didn’t accept Bobby being biracial, it resulted in bullying to the point where he needed to switch schools (A lawsuit was also in place) The next school was slightly better but Bobby slowly learned to accept himself as it was not something he could control and not something he would want to in the first place. He was proud of where he came from and never thought he was better or less than anyone else, that wasn’t how he was raised

He’s an only child, his parents thought about adopting (and fostering) but with Bobby they had their hands full and he was just enough for them

His family is very family-oriented so he would never have to feel lonely since they gave him a lot of attention, slightly making him spoiled but he was also around his cousins & spending time with them as well

He’s extremely close to his younger cousin (only by a few months) Femi who he views as his sister. They’ve been through a lot together and are always there for each other so it only makes sense

Most likely an active kid always up to some sort of shenanigans whether it’s by himself or with his group of friends, “why would you do that Bobby?” “Don’t ask why but ask, why not!?”

Definitely suffered some broken bones, concussions, & sprain injuries but would never show signs of pain...guys got a high pain tolerance that’s for sure

Fan of films/series “stand by me” & “the goonies” & “scooby doo” since he feels they relate to his life??

Hospital caterer and loves making those feel better with food that he’s created. If he can’t put a smile on patients face with words then he feels like he can show them with food

Food is an art to him. He went to school for culinary & it’s very important for him to show how much it is to him. He picked up the craft from of course his family, who always used food for numerous of things: to bring people together is one of them

Perfected Jerk haggis, it is now he favorite dish next to desert & breakfast!

I’m struggling to figure out what sign he maybe? He’s very playful which may come off as childish at times, which makes me think of Leo? (Maybe Gemini?) Only because they usually hold onto their childhood as best as they can, very generous, & give their energy to you but I also don’t see him being a fire sign at all? So maybe very little Leo in his chart. I also feel like he might be a bit of an empath? He knows when situations around him don’t feel right, knows how to read the room, and always wants to help others by lighting things up.

Idk but I’m feeling he’s libra sun + Gemini moon + Leo rising? Who knows

Probably lived in a 2 bed flat with his old uni mate. It was small and a bit shit but it was their shit and they made the best of it

Now lives in a stone cottage or farmhouse with MC that was built in the 1900’s & is slightly haunted. He’s decided to call them Duncan??? But he believes they’re a good spirit, maybe even a friendly ghost!? since he got comfortable with the bizarre happenings in the new flat & it doesn’t seem like they want to hurt them

Lottie offered to bring her ouija board next time she visited—Bobby declined

House is mostly neutral based but three of the rooms in the flat are covered in ridiculous patterned walls or furniture much to MC’s distaste but, “what’s yours is mine” right? No. But Gary approves!

Has two dogs: a terrier & a collie since MC wasn’t down for getting a sheep

They do have chickens to raise their own eggs tho!

Definitely the kind of significant other that will ride on the cart when they’re out grocery shopping, will make you breakfast in bed, & will send you memes while he’s at home and you’re out or even when he’s at work and you’re at home, let’s you put his arm to sleep when you’re laying on it in bed (big ass head gang!), definitely chooses the candles from bath & body works that smell like food items (majority of them suck let’s be honest)

Probably smells like cucumber, melons, lemons, and eucalyptus

Has your wedding date in his IG bio & is proud

Annoys Gary & Lottie with his food pics, “oh, Not this shit again! 😡 looks brilliant, but enough!”

Has zoom/FaceTime movie nights with Marisol & MC who stopped feeling like she was third-wheeling months ago

Talks to hope & Noah (in the background) as much as he can. Feels like they’re his inspiration for love, even tho he’s the only one married out of the villa

He values marriage just like his parents do and often has Sunday dinners with them & MC ofc

Probably has relationship guide books and only reads them out of boredom but finds fascinating facts/advice if he pays attention & tries to apply it to his relationship with mc. If it works, it works! & If it doesn’t, you can’t say he didn’t try!

Works long hours but will still come home to cook for MC or brings leftovers from the events he’s catered (most are for the hospital but occasionally he’ll do other events)

Has a separate IG for his work

When WAP dropped, he almost lost his shit. Even tried to get MC to do the challenge with him, he’s pretty bad but MC eventually learned it just for him 😜

Is thrilled that Cardi made the best decision EVER on divorcing offset, “are you thinking of leaving me now?” “... I might.” “BOBBY!” “Haha, I love you!

Absolutely loves Christmas!!! It’s his favorite holiday and he loves giving back to everyone in his life. Usually he’s working overtime for the holidays & it makes him emotional due to the stories he hears & he puts a little extra love in his food

Goes all out for Christmas. Tries to buy/make everyone something. Even if he doesn’t really care for them...he’ll at least send them a x-mas card, if they keep it or burn it it’s entirely up to them—if he knew about it he’d probably be a little sad not gonna lie...he’s a soft king

Once bought Lottie black crocs with spooky pins , “are you joking Bobby?!” He knows she secretly loved them

Uses salt and peppermint in his dark hot cocoa...

Rather make deserts for Christmas than the food, he feels like it’s his duty

King of giving the thumbs up, especially when situations have gone to shit. He’ll still shoot them up with a smile or a grimace

Always inviting someone somewhere. “Bobby, hun. You’re 4-6 hrs away and it’s 1 am.” Hope groaned after listening to his bright idea, thinking something bad happened. “Ah, you could still make it if you tried, lassie.” “I’m gonna hang up now. Good night, bonkers man.”

Needs constant reminding when to get his locs touched up & moisturized

Either has a trampoline or a funhouse jumper in his backyard (maybe both) “we’ve got the space and this is better than a pool, or almost!”

Wants children, a whole footie team! There’s no specific time frame for him, when it happens, it happens

Used to cool & wet temps & loves vacationing in Greenland. Sure the hot weather he experienced in the villa was awesome & something different than what he’s used to but you can’t take the scot out of the man. So he typically sticks to places that are similar in temps, that way he doesn’t have to change his clothing choices much

Loves a good bath. Bubble baths are better than bath bombs to him, PERIOD!

Loves bubbles so much he put too much laundry detergent in the wash (does this on purpose now) and came back home to the dogs and room covered in it. Do you think he cleaned it up before MC came home? No. He decided to have a bubble party in the room with a Caribbean playlist playing in the background

MC definitely posted about it the first time & joined him for a bit, dreading the work that came with cleaning it all up. Now whenever Bobby needs a bubble party, he knows what to do. MC preferred him to have his little bubble party in the tub but 50% of the time he chooses not to listen & they leave him to pout & clean it himself

Likes to hold hands with fingers interlocked. When it’s cold and if you’re both wearing hoodies, he’ll slide his hand inside the arm of your hoodie to help keep you warm

Canon: His version of a snack is spaghetti hoops on toast & can eat that for the rest of his life & be content

If he didn’t end up marrying MC, probably finds his significant other working as a nurse at one of the hospitals he caters to or a volunteer at a old folks home

Never had a serious relationship, very few hookups, was either always placed in the friend zone or there was one person he wanted to be serious with but they rejected him and continued loving someone else who treated them like shit—so he kinda swore off of relationships and just flirted a bunch and kept his love life non-existent

Fav ice cream? Rocky road ice cream with one scoop of cotton candy & one scoop of cookie butter blue

Doesn’t believe in measuring when it comes to culinary. He uses his eyes as his measurement, could be a bad thing, could be a good thing, that’s up to you

If he’s up at night, he’s eating something sweet. A nice glass of single malt scotch whiskey + a splash of coconut milk (🤢) with a slice of angel food cake & he’s out like a light

Absolutely loves shopping for the kitchen, finds immense joy in doing so. If you lose him in a store, one of the places you’ll most likely find him is in the kitchen decor area

Owns a bagpipe & wants to get better at it, even tho he scared the living shit out of his dogs & chickens

Wears his shades quite a bit even tho the weather is hardly sunny and mainly windy & damp

Will hold the door for strangers even if they don’t say thank you

He’s open when it comes to music. Will listen to anything but feels like the music has to be a purpose for something...Everything he does in his day to day life has to feel like a soundtrack to him since in his mind he’s daydreaming about his life being made into a movie. Who isn’t?

He thinks wentworth Miller should play him in a film and that kid from blackish should play him when he was a wee lad, Marcus Scribner

Always keeps a positive attitude because he knows what it feels like to feel low and he doesn’t want anybody else in the world to feel like that so he wants to uplift and if he can try to be someone’s happiness he’ll gladly be that— which isn’t always the right move, he learned

Listens to: Rotimi, Shaggy, Sean Paul, Skip Marley, H.E.R., Jhene Aiko, Jorja Smith, UMI, The Kooks, The Killers, Cold War kids, Milky chance, Blood Orange, The 1975, Vampire Weekend, Bad Suns, BRYSON TILLER, Kilo Kish, & Ella Eyre (although he misses her old music)

Celeb crushes? Cardi B is his mfkin celeb wife okay?! Nobody else comes above her! He also thinks FKA twigs is pretty & super talented, sevdaliza!, Tia & Tamera, Iman, and brandy from the 90s makes him swoon

Anthem = jaden, “Boys and Girls”

#litg #litg s2 #litg2 #litg Bobby #litg au #litg headcanon #litg headcanons #litg gary #litg lottie #litg marisol #litg mc #litg hope #you asked and you shall receive

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jaeminlore · 5 years ago

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Amor Libertatis | Mark

summary: the freedom of love.

words: 12.4k+

category: fisherman!mark x princess!reader, FLUFF, angst, a lot of wordbuilding i got carried away

warning(s): death mention, war mention, blood mention, mark smells like fish, repetitive writing

a/n: alternate title is The Multiple Confessions of Two Dumbasses Who Don’t Get It™️

The ballroom is a grand flourish of shiny hardwood floors and high ceilings. The firelight of the chandeliers reflects off of blue quartz stones, sending a blue haze around the room. White roses hang from the doors, leaving every guest with a shoulder of rose petals by the time they enter the room.

It's genuinely beautiful, and it seems to put the staff of the palace in good spirits. The cooks set out fluffy miguelitos and bubbly rosé cava over cream-colored doilies. The servants fake-fight with the leftover rose stems, shrieking in laughter when one of them gets pricked.

The guests will be here any moment. You, as part of your coronation celebration, invited every fisherman and sailor in the kingdom for a night of repose. Though many of your noble friends were apprehensive about it, you have found favor with the staff, and together, you worked out a special night for the main exporters of your kingdom.

The royal band is rehearsing in the corner; the sound of a bandurria tuning echoes throughout the room. Someone plays a sour note on their guitar, and it sparks a jolt of laughter throughout the room.

The tall windows are unlatched and open wide, sending the sound of waves crashing and fishermen shouting up into the cliffside castle.

You feel elated, amazed at the joy that runs throughout the room. Looking out the window, you can see a bunch of fishermen bringing their boats into the harbor. The men are joking around and laughing, and you can't help but selfishly think they're all excited for tonight.

"Anna," you call one of the servants over.

She slips her arm around yours and peers out of the window with you. "They look happy."

"Yes," you say, following the form of one small child as he races up and down the docks. "Has the transportation been set out for the families? With outfits from the measurements we took?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Anna sounds almost as excited as you. "By tonight, we'll have a ballroom full of families. The entire west wing has been cleared for the children to sleep in as well, should the parents drink too much calent."

You giggle at her words. "Yes, that's very smart. Remind me to thank the nannies for all they're preparing for the children. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

Anne sighs wistfully, eyes locked on the faraway docks. "Do you think any fishermen our age will come by?"

"Are you on the lookout for a husband, Anne?" You quip with a remarked stare.

The girl elbows you gently. She lifts her nose into the air indignantly. "I'm of age. It's proper."

"Oh, it's proper alright," you giggle, hastily avoiding Anne's next, not-as-gentle elbowing to the side.

The castle looms over the docks like an ominous shadow. Mark peers up at it, wondering why on earth any fisherman would feel welcome there. "We're going to stand out like sore thumbs."

"It's for us, you buzzkill," Jaehyun shoves an empty bucket into Mark's arms. "Take this to the lower deck."

Mark can't help but wonder if Jaehyun ever thinks about how bad they smell. He wonders how many royals will be at this ball, and he wonders how many will laugh at him. He ignores Jaehyun's instructions. "Do you think it's a set up?"

Jaehyun sighs and uses the bottom of his already-dirty shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He's obviously tired of Mark's worrying, but he'll never say it out loud. "I think the princess is doing her best to make allies after what the last monarchs pulled."

Mark still remembers it: the day many fishermen were taken from their homes and forced to fight a war that wasn't theirs. They became a navy of untrained soldiers against pirates and merchants with no morale and a lot of weapons. He remembers the last day he ever saw his father and brother. He remembers wanting to fight, too, but being too young. He remembers becoming a fisherman as young as ten years old, because he had to provide for his grieving mother. Then she couldn't handle it any more, and he had to attend a funeral for three people instead of two.

He remembers that no one ever let him grieve, and the castle feels ominous all over again. "I don't know if I'm going to go."

"Aren't you curious?" Jaehyun asks. "Don't you want to see if the princess is going to apologize? Or if she's just as fake as her parents before her?"

Mark wonders if the princess ever got to mourn.

"I don't know if I want to find out," Mark admits. He adjusts the heavy bucket and goes to do the job he is getting paid to do. He turns to shout over his shoulder, "But if you go, bring me back some castle food!"

Mark, of all people, knows what it feels like to be alone. He must be the only fisherman not excited about the party, and it's not all for shallow reasons. Mostly, he's the only one without a family to take.

He thinks of Jaehyun, bringing his brothers, and Kun, bringing his family — a wife and two daughters. He thinks of Lucas' little son, who can't stop talking about the outfit he was measured for.

There is such joy in sharing with others, and Mark knows he'll feel extremely alone if he goes. He'll just burden all of his friends, who want to be with their families.

He checks all of the boats and makes sure they're secure at the harbor. The night is warm and windy. The party is surely starting soon, or perhaps it has already started.

He looks up at the castle. Light pours from the large windows. If he listens close enough, he can hear the sound of music and laughing.

He wants to climb on a boat and sail away for the night, just to forget all of it.

"Are you not going to join the festivities?"

Mark jumps at the noise. He turns around and sees a girl, dressed in turquoise-colored silk. There's a split down each side, so that when she walks, Mark notices the knee-length sandals. That's normally a tell that someone is royal, but then again, he wonders if the princess gave everyone royal-grade clothing. He wouldn't know.

He realizes he hasn't answered. He's just been staring for an odd amount of time. "Er, no. I'm not exactly a dancer," he lies, thinking it's easier than belting out his own personal sob story.

"I can't either," the girl says. She gives him a bright smile. "Something I think that makes dancing more fun."

Mark shrugs. He feels warm, but he brushes it off as the mugginess of the night. "I have to secure the boats, and I smell like fish."

"The entire ballroom smells like fish," she says, and Mark thinks for a moment that she's being insulting. Then, he receives another bright smile. "It's wonderful! It feels like we're right on the docks, dancing and laughing. One of the lovely fishermen is teaching my– er– the ladies about sea shanties. They're rather dirty in verse, but it's fun to sing them! I'm sure we'll be hearing the words down the corridors for weeks to come."

She says everything nearly out of breath. Her cheeks are red, and she seems to always be on the verge of a laugh. Every word that comes out of her mouth seems spoken in prose, so much so that Mark wonders how anyone could find life so rewarding.

"I suppose you're a noble, then," he says.

"I am."

Mark risks another look at her face (though he had never actually looked away) and notices her hair is gathered into a braid. It cascades down her chest and ends with a seashell clipped to the bottom. Her eyes reflect the moonlight.

He feels self conscious all of a sudden. "Well, have fun then."

"Won't you come?"

Mark stills the moment her hand comes into contact with his. She's close now, clasping his hand like it will change his mind. Maybe it will.

"I don't really belong there."

"Everyone belongs," she says sternly, eyes suddenly hard. "I won't let anyone tell you different. This ball is about coming together as equals and apologizing for past grievances. This is a new start. You should be a part of it."

Mark isn't sure why, but he lets her pull him all the way up the cliffs, straight into the castle.

The boy does look out of place, you notice. "Here, let's get you into some regal clothing."

You desperately hope he doesn't ask what type of noble you are, because you would really hate to lose the trust of this young fishermen you've found. Something about his hesitance makes you think he wouldn't want to meet the princess. He wouldn't want to meet you.

You bring him into one of the spare rooms and leaf through the wardrobe. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Uh. Mark."

You toss a black shirt and trousers at him. "Change into these, Mark. Behind that screen."

The top of his head can be seen over the screen, so you focus on his black locks while you wait. "My name is Y/n. It's a pretty common name, I know."

"I haven't heard it before," Mark comments, struggling with a piece of clothing.

When he comes out from behind the screen, his shirt is tucked in and rolled up the fisherman way. You find it adorable, because it's how every man showed up this evening. Still, you can't help but want to see what Mark would look like dressed as a noble.

You approach him and pull his sleeves down, clipping the seashell cufflinks where they belong. Then, you grab a turquoise cummerbund and wrap it around the black attire, tying it in the back so that it's the only pop of color on his body.

You step back and look at him. "Very handsome. Oh! I'll get some oils so you don't feel self-conscious about your smell."

He doesn't smell that bad. Honestly, it's obvious that a fisherman would smell a little funny: it's part of the job. So it's nothing to make fun of, really.

Still, you find some lavender and lemon scented oils in the vanity and sprinkle them onto his shoulder and neck. "Now don't rub it in. Just let it set."

Mark still looks out of place. Not in appearance, he just has this look on his face that says "I don't want to be here."

"I promise you'll have a nice time," you say. "And if not, we can sneak out a jug of cante and get out of here, yeah?"

Mark's face softens with relief and he smiles. "Okay."

"Great! Now let's go!" You grab his hand and pull him down the hallway, into the grand ballroom.

Mark lets out an audible gasp of surprise at the decorations, and the people. "It's... It's really nice."

"Thank you," you say. "It took forever to plan."

"You planned it?" Mark asks, eyeing you confusedly.

The base of your neck feels hot. "I helped, I mean. It's impossible for one person to plan a grand display like this."

"Right. Oh, there's Jaehyun." Mark points to the tall man talking to Anne. "He's my friend."

"He's talking to my friend, Anne. We should go talk to them!"

Jaehyun looks surprised to see Mark at the party. He looks even more surprised to see his hand in yours. "You work fast, don't you, Mark?"

Mark jerks his hand out of your grip. "She uh, she was just helping me find something to wear."

Anne eyes you. "Was she? Were you given no clothes?"

"I found him on the docks," you say quickly, trying to telepathically talk to Anne with your eyes. "I thought he might like to join us."

"I tried to get him to come along," Jaehyun says, smiling. His smile is sweet, soft like fluffy icing. "If I had known all I needed was a pretty girl to convince him, I would've done it sooner."

"Ah, it wasn't like that," Mark says. He fiddles with the cummerbund, hooking his thumb under the seam and running the pad across. "She just said you guys were having fun. So I thought I would try it."

Jaehyun looks like he wants to say more, but he hides his smile behind a gulp of rosé.

Anne greets Mark. "Is it just you?"

Mark bristles. "Yeah," he says, a warning laced in his voice. "For a long time now."

"No wife?" Anne presses, and you notice Mark keeps tensing.

"Anne, that's enough," you say. "I'm going to show Mark around."

You pull the reluctant boy over to the closest table of food and hand him a fluke of pink liquid. "I'm sorry about her. She doesn't mean to be as invasive as she is."

Mark downs the entire thing in one gulp and stares down at his shoes. "Yeah, it's fine. I just. You know, not all of our families survived the war."

Your heart softens, and your chest burns with the sort of empathy one gets when they've experienced grief. "From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. If my— if the king and queen had known what they were truly doing—"

"It shouldn't have even crossed their minds," Mark snaps, cutting a cold glare across the room. "Where is the princess anyway? Isn't she supposed to apologize for their mistakes tonight?"

Your voice feels watery in your throat. "She already did. That's how she opened the night."

"Huh," Mark furrows his brows. "What did she say?"

You swallow down your urge to get upset. He's only asking for closure. "She apologized for her parents' actions. Said she hopes to rule better than them, and never have to put the lower class in danger like that again. She reminded everyone that you are just as important as she is, and that you deserve the same rights as her — you should get to choose if you want to fight."

Mark looks torn. "Okay," he says, and drops the subject for the night.

Mark goes home pretty quickly after that. He feels pain in the depths of his stomach, and he knows he shouldn't take it out on you, so he leaves.

He walks home, since his home is just a simple shack right under the cliffs near the ocean. He unties the cummerbund and rips the cuff links off of his sleeves.

With the moon as his only light, he sits on the beach with his feet in the tide. He watches the moon until it becomes hard to keep his eyes open, and then he goes to sleep, the smell of lavender and lemon still on his skin.

He's on net-making duty the next day, so he sits in the same spot on the beach. His hands burn from the amount of times he's pulled on the ropes, making sure they're tight and secure enough to hold hundreds of fish.

The waves lap at his ankles until midday, when the tide retracts, and he's left hot and sweaty under the sun.

That's when you arrive.

You look different from last night, dressed down this time in a pair of cotton trousers and a simple white shirt. Your boots crunch over the sand and pebbles as you walk over and hand him a package. "I had your clothes cleaned."

Mark eyes the package for a moment before he sighs, drops his net, and takes it. "Thanks."

"Sure." You point to the net. "Did you make that by yourself?"

Mark accidentally lets out a laugh. "Well, nets don't just appear, you see."

You shove his arm, and Mark finds that your hand feels almost cool against his hot skin. "I know that. I was going to compliment you, but I think I'll take it back now."

"Oh no," Mark says. A teasing smile makes its way to his face before he can stop it. "How will I keep going, now?"

You giggle. It makes Mark feel abnormally proud, as if he's suddenly the funniest person on earth. Which he certainly isn't. He knows it's weird, so he tries to bury it down in the same place he buried the memory of your hand in his. "Shouldn't you get back to the castle?" It comes out more harshly then he intends it to, but he really can't be around you for too long without feeling weird things. Odd things.

"I suppose," you shrug. "I don't want to though. I spent all morning helping clean up and I just want to rest now.

Mark feels a blister forming under his thumb. "Sounds rough."

"Sorry," you manage to look bashful. "I know I have it good. I shouldn't complain. Hey, maybe I could help you!"

"I don't need help," Mark says. "Besides, you wouldn't know how to tie these knots."

"I would if you'd teach me." You catch Mark's gaze and hold it until he looks away, shaking his head softly. You begin to plead. "Look, I'm a really quick learner! And I don't make my tutors repeat things! I can help!"

"You have a tutor?" Mark scoffs. "Aren't you learning a lot more interesting things than how to tie knots?"

"I'm learning about foreign policies," you roll your eyes. "And while it's important, it's tragically boring. I think the life of a sailor must be much more fun."

Mark can agree with that. In fact, he plans on one day having his own boat, and spending his enter life on the water, away from people and families and the castle and any other reminder of his loss. "I'm going to sail away one day. No one will ever see me again."

You stay quiet for a moment, and Mark begins to wonder if he somehow offended you. Surely not. You've only known him for a day; you wouldn't care if he left. Then you say, "You're quite sure no one would miss you, then?"

"Why would they? Everyone has their own lives. Everyone has moved on already."

You sit with Mark in silence while he finishes his net, and then you bid him goodbye just as Jaehyun invites him to his house for supper.

Mark sort of wishes you would have stayed, and he could've spent the night sitting beside you.

The castle feels empty more than full most nights. You suppose it's just your heart, reaching around corners for a parent that no longer exists. You remember when they both came down with tuberculosis. You remember not being able to see them during their last few months. You remember living in a little cottage with your advisor as the castle was inspected and cleaned.

Sometimes you think the castle is haunted by the souls of your parents. There have been many nights when you feel someone stroking your hair the way your mother used to. Maybe you're just making it up, but you like to think she's still with you, as well as your father.

You love them dearly. Though everyone says the tuberculosis was karma for sending so many innocent people into battle, you can't help but want to ask what other option they had.

The pirates had been closing in on all sides. The castle's knights were already on the sea, fighting, and they needed reinforcements. Who else could've been chosen? No one else knew the sea as well. And in the end, it worked, and many of the fishermen returned home to their families.

You figure Mark is one of the unlucky ones.

If you could, you'd take it all back. No one would fight at all, and you'd fix it some other way, whether diplomatically or not. Definitely not by sending innocent people into battle. That was never the goal.

You kiss your mother's rosary and tuck it against your chest. Maybe she would be proud of the steps you're taking. Maybe she would desperately disagree with getting so close to the lower class.

But they aren't disposable. That had been proven in just one night, when you met every fisherman and their family personally. They are all important. They are all real. They are alive, and they won't be used as pawns ever again.

Your bedroom is just as empty as the halls. But here, the walls don't echo, so you freely recite a prayer to your mother, asking her how to do this. How to make hard decisions and save people at the same time. How to rule a country without losing your heart.

You don't see Mark until a week later, when he's seen helping sell fish at the market.

There's a scarf tied around his head to keep the sweat out of his eyes, and it's rather cute the way his wavy black hair falls over it. You approach the smelly booth and shoot Mark a wide smile. "How have you been?"

"Me?" Mark's eyes widen, and he uses his gloved hand to point to himself.

"Who else? The mackerel?" You point to a random fish.

"Actually, that's a bream." Mark says with a smile. Then he frowns. "I don't know how I've been. My hands are burning from making nets all week, and all I can think about is dipping them in these ice buckets. But there are fish guts in those, so I've been able to contain myself."

You laugh, catching the eye of another fisherman. "Oh, hi, Jaehyun."

"Hey, Y/n. Come to take Mark away from the torturous life of a fisherman?" He rests his hand on his forehead dramatically.

"Can I do that?" you ask, looking from one boy to the other.

"He always eats at my house anyways," Jaehyun says. "And it's my boat he works for, so sure. Just don't make him use his hands," he winks.

You cough out a laugh, sure your cheeks are just as red as Mark's.

Mark quickly unties his apron and shoves his gloves off of his hands. You notice his palms are pink and raw, and it makes you think of the healers back at the castle. "Hey, I know you're not a big fan of the castle, so I can go by and get it, but I have a balm that can heal your hands a lot quicker."

Mark looks up towards the faraway cliffs, where the castle stands. "Maybe... if we don't take long... I can go back in."

Mark kind of wishes his hands weren't messed up. Not because they would hurt less (though that would be nice) but because now you aren't trying at all to hold his hand, and that makes Mark just a tad bit sad. Okay, maybe a lot more than a tad bit.

You bring him into a healer's room, where the walls are draped in herbs and random flowers that probably have some sort of healing properties. He sees a boiling cauldron in the corner, and shelves upon shelves of vials.

"Ten is quite the hoarder," you say as a way of explanation.

He sits on the cot while you grab the balm and some bandages. Then, you sit beside him and take his left hand first. You place it upturned on your lap and rub the balm into his skin using small circular motions, the way Ten taught you awhile ago.

He hisses in pain, and it's quite obvious that the blisters are infected.

"Should I drain them before I bandage them?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Mark whimpers, and then he huffs like he's heard Lucas' son do many times before. "It's probably better if you do."

"Just don't watch," you say hastily. "It'll hurt less."

Mark keeps his head hidden in your shoulder the entire time, refusing to look until both of his hands are drained and bandaged. He focuses on the way your skin smells like the sea salt, but in a sweet way. Like you've somehow only extracted the good parts of the ocean.

When you officially announce that your done, Mark looks up. His senses are overwhelmed by both the pain, and the smell of your skin, so when he finds himself nose to nose with you, it's hard not to lean in.

Just before his lips touch yours, he hears the door open.

It breaks his trance, and he blinks, backing up a short distance. He brings his hands back to his own lap.

A man — Ten, Mark supposes — walks in. "Oh, Your Highness. What's wrong?"

Mark almost laughs. Who would mistake someone for the princess? But then your face pales, and you look like you've just been punched in the gut.

"Your Highness?" He says quietly, hoping he somehow heard wrong. "You told me you were a noble."

"I am," you say, folding in on yourself timidly.

Ten sees that he's made a mistake, so he quickly grabs a bundle of rosemary and runs out of the door.

"Princess Y/n? That's your name?" Mark asks again, feeling his bones go cold. He can't like the princess. He can't have almost kissed the princess. He can't fall for the girl who's parents inadvertently got his family killed.

He stands up. "I have to go."

"Mark, wait—" you reach for the boy, but he backs away from your touch, reaching for the door. "I'm sorry."

He opens the door. "I have to go," he repeats, shaking his head and escaping the room.

Your coronation is in two days, and all you can think about is Mark and his family.

You can guess what happened, as it happened to a lot of families during that time. Of course, Mark is one of the only ones who kept the fishing trade after such a tragedy.

You want to go see him, but something holds you back. If he blames you and despises you, he wouldn't want to see you under any circumstances.

But you can't help but think about him and all of the others who lost family due to your parents' poor decisions. Sure, you could throw a ball for present-day fishermen, but that doesn't cover the families of the passed.

They could be struggling or alone, and you don't want any of them to feel lost. You want them to find closure apart from a lavish party.

So you set your coronation back, and you get together with a few architects in the kingdom.

And as soon as the plan is set in motion, you head down to the docks, hoping Mark will be the first to know about it. He may reject you, but you want him to know. He deserves to know, as the one who inspired the project.

You find Jaehyun first, untangling a net at the end of his boat, feet hanging over the side, against the hull. "Hey, Jaehyun. Is Mark here? I really need to talk to him."

Jaehyun looks remorseful. "He left a while ago. Took his shabby sailboat and left for who-knows-where. 'Said he might come back. 'Said maybe not."

"Oh," you say. Your mind feels burdened, but you accept it. You have to. "Okay. Well, if he comes back—"

"I'll send him your way," Jaehyun gives you a pity-filled smile, like he knows what you're both thinking.

Mark probably isn't going to come back.

You focus on the project.

One section of the kingdom courtyard is cleared, and now a tree stands, with a sign in front of it. The plaque reads off the names of all the deceased, and all the families affected. It reads off the history of the decision, and the conscious choice not to let history repeat itself.

You invite every family mentioned and offer them enough resources to keep them afloat for the remainder of their lives. You take the money out of the savings your father held aside for war and your mother held aside for your coronation, wedding, and honeymoon.

Surely, this is more important.

You can't think of why a coronation would have to be anything special enough to hold back resources that should have been gifted as soon as the war ended.

You know firsthand that the scars of grief won't heal completely, but this is certainly a start. This is a step in the direction of closure, and you do your best to prove to your people that you are genuine in this decision.

You sign a declaration stating that no one will be forced to fight again, and all procedures to prevent a war will be taken. War will be a last resort, lest anything happen to your people. God forbid.

That night you fall asleep feeling lighter than you have in years.

You still wish Mark had been there to see it. To see that he has never been alone.

You want to tell him that there's a room in the castle with his name on it, if he wants it. You want to tell him that he can stay here forever, and you'll do your best not to bother him.

Most of all, you just want to know that he's safe.

Mark finds himself on a small island, and decides to stay for a few days.

He'll come back, he knows that deep down. But it's only because he has something to come back to. Someone.

It's impossible to deny that he has some kind of feelings towards you. However weak they are, they're there. However platonic or romantic they may be, he wants to be around you. He doesn't want to go a long time without seeing you; talking with you.

The fact that you're the princess has him at a standstill. Because, yeah, your parents made a horrible decision. But he knows you were only a child when it was made. You were his age. And when the king and queen were overcome by their illness just a few years later, you were left alone to rule.

Mark is beginning to think you know just as much about feeling alone as he does.

He sleeps on the beach beside a campfire. His stomach is only half-full, but he doesn't feel like eating any more of his rations.

He looks across the vast horizon and imagines that you're in the castle, looking out. Maybe you can see the smoke, or maybe he's simply becoming a vapor in the wind.

Maybe you don't miss him, or care that he's gone. Maybe you're angry for the way he left.

Mark figures he should work on the whole impulse thing.

He'll come back one day, he knows. Just not yet.

You are crowned as queen a month later, when the sea is chilly and the air is biting. Your breath turns into frost as often as you breathe, waiting in anticipation for a boat that may never return home.

Days are filled with meetings and discussions over keeping the peace, and while you adore your country, you can't help but wish you were back on the docks that night, meeting Mark again for the first time.

You stay up late, nightmares eating at your mind. Your mother's ghost still lingers around, but she feels less comforting now, and you don't know why. Her presence makes the room cold and dark. Even her rosary doesn't feel as good as it once did.

Still you clutch it, and say a quick prayer to whoever will bring Mark home the fastest.

And when you look up, you can see a small sailboat, making its way towards the light of the lighthouse beam.

You hastily pull pants over your nightgown and throw a jacket over your shoulders before racing out of your bedroom, fingers still clutching your mother's beads.

You forgot to put on shoes. This would be fine, if the cliffs weren't so sharp. So, you slow your pace and pick a smoother path, not wishing to get any serious injuries.

The wood of the dock is cold. It's wet, too. The slimy kind of wet that makes you want to take a bath as soon as you feel it. But still you stand, eyes focused on that little sailboat, hoping it's Mark on his way home.

Your knees are aching, and you're shivering by the time the boat finally docks. But it's all worth it when Mark walks out, his clothes dirty and messed up.

He starts when he notices you, but once he realizes you are not, in fact, a ghost, he quickens his pace until he is right in front of you. "You're not mad at me."

"No," you say. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," Mark breathes. A laugh of relief leaves his lips and he reaches forward to wrap you into a hug. "I'm sorry I did that. I acted impulsively and I shouldn't have."

"No, you shouldn't have," you scold, squeezing him as tightly as you can. "I was afraid for your safety every night."

Mark awkwardly pats your back until you let him go, and then he gives you a crooked smile. "I'm extremely tired. Do you think we could meet up in the morning?"

"You don't sleep in that shack during the winter, do you?"

Mark seems confused. "Yeah, why?"

"You'll get sick," you protest. "Won't you just come to the castle with me? I know you don't like it, but there's a room with your name on it if you want it."

Mark covers his mouth as he yawns. "You know what? I might take you up on your offer. Just for tonight, though."

He seems set on his decision, and you're just thankful that he's alive, so you grab his hand and pull him up the cliffs, excited to have him with you once again.

Mark submerges his head completely under the water. You had a bath drawn for him, and you even filled it with lavender and lemon oils. Though the scents make Mark even drowsier than before, he's thankful that you remembered the scents.

They make him think of that night when he first met you, and that makes his heart warm.

He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the fluffy pillows. After being so used to sleeping on the ground, this feels like a cloud.

He gets the best sleep he's had in ages.

You wake up in a cold sweat, visions of Mark caught in a shipwreck wracking your body in waves. Shivers race down your spine, so you sit up and look around, counting the things in your room the way Ten told you to do when you feel on the verge of a panic.

Once the room stops spinning, you get up and begin to dress, excited to show Mark around your home. You want to show him the garden, and the memorial.

You put on a yellow sundress and race out of the door. You knock incessantly on Mark's door until he finally opens it.

The sight that greets you makes your heart flutter worse than the dream. But it's in a different way. It's a positive and lovely flutter that zips all the way down to your toes.

Mark is still in his nightclothes. One hand still on the door, the other goes up to rub his eyes. His hair is messy, shooting up in all different directions. His skin has gotten a lot darker since his voyage, and the stark contrast to his white shirt warms the pit of your stomach. "Morning," he mumbles.

You suddenly want to reach over and kiss him, just to capture that innocent look on his face. However, you mask that feeling with a smile. "Do you want to have breakfast? Or, if you're still tired, maybe we could just hang out here."

Mark looks longingly back at his bed. Then, to the still-dark sky outside the window. "Uh, what time is it?"

"Four in the morning," you say, heart skipping a beat.

"Four?" Mark gapes at you. "Shouldn't you be asleep still? Why are you dressed?"

You pout. "I had a nightmare and don't want to go back to sleep."

Mark rolls his eyes and reaches for your hand. He pulls you into his room. "Get dressed into something comfier and let's go back to sleep."

You find a long nightshirt in his wardrobe, but you don't like the second part of his plan. From behind the dressing screen, you slip the silky fabric over your body. "I don't want to sleep. I'll have bad dreams again."

"What are they about?" Mark questions. He's lying on his bed, arms stretched out behind his head. The shirt he's wearing rides up at the hips the more he stretches, and you nearly get caught staring at the sliver of skin that shows.

"Um. People I care about in dangerous situations," you say, not wanting to reveal that most of them are about him. It's just that your brain can't seem to catch up to the present. Maybe it hasn't caught on that Mark is here, safe, and not lost out at sea.

"But you have to sleep," Mark says. "We didn't get in until, like, midnight. You need more than that."

"I'll just lay beside you," you say, hoping it appeases him. "And we can get breakfast when you wake up."

Mark looks annoyed, but he doesn't say anything else. He shifts into his side, facing you, and closes his eyes.

You mirror his actions, burying yourself under his covers that already seem to smell like him. Like the sea and lavender and lemons. You take a deep breath and watch him fall asleep. You take note of the way his eyelids begin to flutter, and the noiseless mumbles coming from his lips. He's beautiful (and he falls asleep really fast, you notice.)

You reach out and clasp his shirt, fisting the loose fabric. Anchoring yourself to him makes this feel more real, and you hope your brain is finally catching up to the rest of you.

Sometime within the next thirty minutes, you fall asleep. And there are no nightmares. In fact, there are no dreams at all.

Mark wakes up with his arms around somebody's waist, and for the life of him he can't figure out if he went to bed with anybody last night.

What was last night? His mind floods back to him sailing back to the mainland and finding you waiting for him.

It's you. He groggily opens his eyes and sees you, curled against his chest, fingers clutched around the front of his shirt. And his arm is only holding you there, keeping you in his embrace until he wants to let go.

Mark loosens up his arm and settles for lying next to you, listening to the sound of your breathing. Soft snores emit every now and again, and a piece of his heart pinches with endearment.

He's thankful you waited. He can't imagine how upsetting it would have been to come back and not have you greet him. He takes it a step further and wonders how he would have felt if you were betrothed; promised to another. Not that you were ever promised to him, but still.

There's always a future possibility, he likes to imagine.

Though, to be honest, he has no idea what it means for you to be a queen. He wonders if there are rules against favoring a fisherman. Maybe you'll wake up and tell him that the two of you have to stay six inches apart now that you're queen. He has no idea.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" you snap him out of his thoughts.

Mark watches as a sleepy smile paints your lips. "Just... is this scandalous?"

You cover your mouth with your hand and giggle. Your eyes seem to twinkle at him, and it makes Mark glad that he coaxed you into going back to sleep for a few hours. "Don't you know we're a matriarchy?"

Mark gapes. "The line goes through the women?"

"Essentially, yeah," you say. "I can be around men as much as I please, so long as I one day have a female heir. Though that will not be any time soon, I'm very sure."

Mark remembers Lucas and his son, and he wonders what it'd be like to have a little one of his own. It's a comforting thought, like he might one day be able to find a family again. "Oh. Cool."

"Yeah," you say. "I mean, not that I normally find myself in the bed of different men, just... you know."

Mark clears his throat. "Yeah. Er, yeah."

"I didn't have any nightmares," you say. "So maybe it was good that I went back to sleep."

"You do need your sleep," Mark says. "It's important."

You change the subject. "What should we do after breakfast?"

"Well, I really have to go see Jaehyun and ask for my position on his boat again." Mark feels sheepish for cutting his time with you short, but he needs to make an income. "I can visit you soon, though."

"Maybe we could sail together one day," you say. Mark can tell you're masking your disappointment, and it makes his heart clench.

"Definitely," he says, if not just to watch your eyes light up.

Jaehyun kept Mark's spot open while he was gone, hoping he would return. "Why do you look so nice?"

"Oh," Mark runs his hands through his hair and avoids Jaehyun's gaze. "I spent the night at the castle."

Jaehyun snickers knowingly, and when Mark tries to deny whatever it is he's thinking of, he only gets louder. "I can't believe you spent the night with the queen and you want to be humble about it."

"It wasn't like that," Mark says, defending you. "Don't be weird about it. We're friends."

"Fine," Jaehyun rolls his eyes. "If you don't want to be the future king, fine."

"Actually, it's a matriarchy, so I wouldn't even be king. I'd be like, the consort or something." Mark grunts as he lifts a fishing net onto his back. "Which is kind of cool when you think about it."

"You don't want power?"

Mark scoffs, looking back at his friend. "Imagine me running a country. I can't count a million ways that would go wrong. Y/n is better suited, obviously."

"Yeah," Jaehyun matches Mark's stride. "I was kind of on the fence about her reigning instead of a regent, but then she set up the monument and signed that treaty. I think that's the most badass thing I've ever seen anybody do."

"What monument?" Mark shifts the weight of the net and dumps it on the deck of Jaehyun's ship. They begin to untangle it and spread it out to get ready for tomorrow's voyage.

"Are you kidding me? The one inspired by you? I thought Y/n would've told you as soon as she saw you."

"I kind of left as soon as I woke up. And last night we were both so tired..." Mark fiddles with his sleeves. "What is the monument about?"

"It's a memorial," Jaehyun's voice carries a more somber tone. He lost his father in that war, too. "It's literally engraved in stone, the mistakes her parents made, and the promise not to repeat it. And it has the names of the deceased and the affected. It's basically a shrine; people leave things for their loved ones who have passed. It's a great sentiment. Oh, and the treaty. She signed a treaty with the people that she'd never force anyone to fight in a war. She's essentially risking the entire country for the lower class. It's amazing."

Mark's heart softens towards you. "She did all that?"

"Held back her coronation to finish it," Jaehyun confirms. "Then, each family of the deceased got compensated. You know, like her parents promised they would do, and then never did?"

Mark does remember, but he also remembers that being the year both monarchs died. They never had the chance to fulfill their promise. "Wait, so we both got compensation?"

"Yeah," Jaehyun said, dimples showing. "The bookkeeper has yours. I put most of mine into savings, since I don't mind the business I have right now. But I figured you'd want a new boat to take out and live on."

Mark eyes the water, and remembers how lonely he felt being the only one for miles. No one had been there for him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to agree to that again. "I'll put mine into savings, too. For now."

"You could take Y/n on a trip," Jaehyun suggests.

Mark shakes his head. "She wants me to take her sailing, but how do you charm a girl who has everything?"

"Give her the one thing she's never had," Jaehyun says, as if the answer is obvious. "Freedom."

Mark doesn't ask you to, but you bring a picnic basket with you the day the two of you go sailing.

You figure Mark probably only knows how to prepare a small number of things, and it might be nice to bring him something of a royal caliber to snack on. Besides, you have to bring something to thank him for taking you out with him.

Mark's boat is extremely small: just big enough for a crew of maybe six people, but small enough to be controlled by one man alone.

You watch Mark hoist the sails and set the boat towards the horizon, the wind doing most of the work.

The wind plays with Mark's hair, as well as his shirt, and you aren't sure which is nicer to look at. He's smiling towards the sun, the sharp rays casting somewhat of a halo around his face and you realize this is exactly where Mark belongs. He belongs with the wind and the sea.

Mark belongs where he can be free.

He anchors the boat once the two of you sail out far enough. You lay the picnic blanket out and extract the miscellaneous food items you thought Mark might like.

He tastes the watermelon first, and nurses the fruit throughout the meal. "So, uh, Jaehyun told me about the memorial. And the compensation."

"Oh," you say. "Well, I thought they deserved to be remembered."

Mark nods. "Thanks. It meant a lot to visit it and find my family's names. I felt a lot of closure. As if they were finally at rest."

"Good," you take a sip of water. "That's good."

"You know," Mark pauses like he's about to say something troublesome, "your parents deserved to be remembered, too. They deserve to rest."

You glance up, and your head all of a sudden feels heavy on your neck. It's as if Mark said the words you so desperately needed to hear, whether you knew it or not. Heat pricks the backs of your eyes and you feel both a headache and tears coming up. "Thanks, Mark. I think so too."

"I thought we could do a small memorial service here. Just a little one. We can burn a candle and forgive your parents together. Then they can rest."

"Yeah," you sniffle, feeling an unbearable amount of gratitude in your heart for the boy sitting across from you. "Okay."

"We should go swimming," you say, just as Mark blows out the candle.

"It's freezing out here," he says, looking at you like you're crazy.

"I'm going in," you say, backing up towards the edge of the boat.

Mark watches you jump off of his boat, then he hears a splash, and then a joyful shriek. He sighs and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. He toes off his shoes and socks and stands at the edge of the boat. "How cold is it?" He calls down to you.

"It's super chilly," you yell back, teeth chattering as you smile in satisfaction. "But it feels good."

Mark takes your word for it and dives in head first. His bones chill immeasurably and he feels every muscle in his body wake up for what seems like the first time today. When he reaches the surface, the wind bites at his ears, and he begins chattering, too. "This is a terrible idea," he laughs.

"I know," you say gleefully. You swim over to him, and Mark catches that familiar glint in your eyes. It looks like you're truly happy, and he thinks in this moment that he'd freeze himself a thousand times over again if it kept that stupid smile on your face. "Also, how do we get back onto the boat?"

"There's a ladder on the other side," Mark says. "We're good."

"Okay," you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind, and hook your ankles together at the front of his navel. "Carry me there?"

Mark dips at the sudden new weight, but it isn't unwelcome. He swims to the other side of the boat, a bit lazy because he really likes the way you're clinging onto him.

He lets you go up the ladder first, and he keeps his eyes on the ocean so he won't accidentally look up your skirt. As soon as you yell that you're clear, he begins to climb as well.

When the two of you return to the castle, you're placed in front of the fireplace in Mark's room by a very angry Ten. The two of you take whatever soup he made to warm your insides, and snicker at the obvious annoyance in the man's face.

"To be fair, it's only because he doesn't want us getting hurt," Mark supplies. He wraps the wool blanket tighter around his now-dry shoulders. The two of you are wearing new sets of clothes, having washed up in lukewarm water like Ten advised you to.

"I know," you giggle, scooting closer to him. "He's just so funny when he starts complaining." You shiver as you speak.

"C'mere," Mark mumbles. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to him, against the warmth of his body. "This is why I said we shouldn't go swimming."

"I'm fine," you say, shivering in his hold. "I'm getting warmer."

Mark runs his hand up and down your arms to try and create some kind of extra heat. Once you finally stop shivering, he checks on you, only to find that you've fallen asleep against his chest.

His heartbeat quickens — for absolutely no reason — as he gathers you in his arms and places you on the side of the bed closest to the fireplace.

You let out a sigh of contentment and curl into the sheets. When Mark tucks you in, he swears he hears you mumble a quiet thanks.

He wonders if he should sleep in here or try to find another room to sleep in. Obviously he's slept beside you before, but he wonders if it's weird now because of how much he likes you. He wouldn't want you to think he's taking advantage.

But then Ten comes in and quite literally shoves him into the bed. "The two of you are getting a lot of sleep, because tomorrow I will have you both up drinking a very disgusting brew that prevents serious sickness. It'll be ready in the morning. So, get to sleep."

Mark obeys, too afraid to explain his predicament to Ten. It's a bit stupid anyway, he figures.

So he climbs into bed and falls asleep under the warm covers.

Mark is untangling nets on the beach, toes buried in the sand. The wind has been picking up, causing his hair to annoyingly waft into his eyes every now and again.

He can hear the shrieks of laughter from Lucas' son as the boy runs up and down the dock. A moment passes where he pictures having a son of his own to teach at the docks. But maybe that isn't the life for him.

He's been spending his nights at the castle, staying up to talk to you. The majority of the time, you both fall asleep together, either intertwined or just in each other's presence.

Mark doesn't want to admit that he's falling for you, because that would mean he's falling for the queen. And while that doesn't sound too bad, Mark wonders how much of his freedom he'll have to give up. He wonders if he'd have to pay a price to be officially wed to you, when he likes the way things are now. He likes just being around you, as a friend, safe at a distance.

But he can't deny that there are times when he would love to kiss you and touch you in ways friends are not supposed to. He tries to keep these thoughts buried with the rest of them. In the things-that-will-never-happen pile.

He wonders if you like him too, and just as much. You certainly seem to enjoy every moment you're with him, but you're also just a generally joyful person, so Mark isn't sure he could differentiate the two if he tried.

He focuses on the net, hoping to keep you out of his mind for at least a day.

The universe has other plans.

"Hey," you sit beside him. You wiggle your toes into the sand and grin at him. "Whatcha doing?"

"Working," Mark says, bumping his shoulder with yours. "I'm untangling nets."

Your face suddenly softens. "Are you going to get hurt again? Maybe you should wear gloves."

"I'm used to it," Mark says, shrugging off your worry. When he can sense that you aren't appeased, he swings his head to the side and gives you a long glance. "I'm serious."

You huff. "Just because you're used to it doesn't mean it has to keep happening."

In the end, you win. Mark begrudgingly puts on the pair of work gloves that you steal from Jaehyun. He has to admit that it feels a lot better, and he untangles the net a lot faster when he isn't trying to avoid getting any cuts. "Thanks, Y/n."

You grin. You follow him as he drags the net up to Jaehyun's boat and help him lay it out. Mark notices the bottom of your dress is soggy with whatever grossness dresses the dock. He also notices that you don't seem to mind, and you do your best to keep up with him as he works.

Eventually, the two of you get into a small rhythm of Mark briefly teaching you, and you picking up the trade rather easily. You help him pack bait, secure knots, and clean the deck of Jaehyun's ship.

By nightfall, the two of you are covered in a thin layer of sweat. Mark is suddenly extremely thankful that you've given him a room in the castle, and he can take a proper bath tonight.

Jaehyun and his brothers are going on a trip for a few weeks, so he won't have much to do on the docks as far as working goes. He wonders if he'll stay at the castle, or feel more comfortable by the sea.

Mark tucks the light brown cotton vest into his pants. It covers the white dress shirt he took out of the wardrobe, and matches the dark brown belt fastened around his waist. He slips his sock-clad feet into his worn leather boots. He sits on his bed and fastens the straps of the boots.

It's raining, hard. There's no way anyone is going down to the docks today, and since Jaehyun isn't going to be there anyway, Mark refuses to brave the harsh rain. Instead, he makes his way to your bedroom door and knocks.

You call for him to enter. He walks in to see you hunched over your writing desk, reading some kind of letter. Your eyebrows are knitted together and your lips are pursed. An upset sigh escapes them. "It's from my aunt."

"What does she want?" Mark takes slow, hesitant steps towards the desk. "Is it bad?"

You rub your temples, looking more stressed than Mark has ever seen. "She wants me to have an heir. A daughter. Which is fine, but I don't need one now. I'm young and I'm unmarried. But she's talking about sending a few suitors over."

Mark's blood runs cold. "Oh? Um, did you agree to it?"

"It wasn't a choice," you say, slamming the parchment down onto the desk. You reach up and grab fistfuls of your hair, resting your elbows on the wooden surface. "I just... I made so much progress, you know? And she assumes it's not enough. She assumes I'm nothing without an heir."

"What happens if you don't get married and have a daughter?" Mark asks, wincing more with every word.

You sigh. Your smile is extremely forced as you look at him. "Well, then she would have to take the throne, as apparently I wouldn't be fit enough to rule."

Mark can see the beginnings of tears in your eyes. "She can't do that, right? She can't keep you off the throne?"

"Technically, since she's the only female on my mom's side with a daughter of her own, she can." You begin to crumple up the letter. "She wouldn't be able to rule this country like I can. She won't have empathy for my people. She won't be gentle or kind. She won't throw parties for the lower class... Mark, what am I going to do?"

Mark wants to remind you that he is only a fisherman who has no idea how royalty works. However, all he can do is look into your eyes and realize that you're all alone. You're all alone and you're looking to him for help; for an anchor; for something to cling to so that you won't drown.

"Mark, please..." and immediately, he pulls you into his embrace. He tucks your head under his chin and holds you close, doing his best to still the violent shivers that run through your body. "I don't want to marry someone I don't love. I don't want to be forced into a union."

"Shh..." Mark runs his palms up and down your back. "We'll figure it out, right? You'll prove that you can rule without an heir, right?"

"I don't know," you sob into Mark's chest. "But I have to do it because she can't be on the throne. I won't do that to you. I can't. Not to my people—"

"Okay, okay, okay," Mark shushes you. "Alright. You do what you have to do. But tonight, let's just rest. Let's just pretend nothing is happening. Can we do that for tonight?"

You look at Mark and nod. You use the ends of your sleeve to wipe at your nose, leaving the skin red and raw. "Can you stay with me?"

Mark sits on your bed, and you crawl into his lap. He feels your forehead press against the side of his neck. Your hands clutch at his now-untucked shirt. You're still crying — he can feel a few stray tears slip beneath his collar — but you're quieter now. Your heart isn't racing as fast.

"Mark," you whisper, almost sleepily. "I love you."

Mark's breath hitches in his throat at your words. He finds that now he's the one with tears, pricking the back of his head like the painful reminder that this is all he'll ever be able to be to you. "I love you, too."

The rain continues to pour outside. Mark runs his fingers through your hair, and tells you quiet tales of the sea until you fall asleep, looking far too small and vulnerable in his arms.

He wonders just how much a queen has to sacrifice. He wonders if he would ever be able to steal the weight off of your shoulders.

For a quick moment, Mark closes his eyes and imagines a world where it's just the two of you, and you mean it when you say you love him. It's not just fever-fueled words.

He kisses the top of you head. "So much."

The coffee is bitter on your tongue, but it's a lot sweeter than your aunt's arrival.

She comes in a carriage far too large for a single person. Her dress is too thick for Ora's climate, and yet she walks with her head held high, as if she can't feel the drops of sweat along her hairline.

Her hair is hidden beneath a large bonnet made of wire and something else. The atrociousness of it all just makes you want to laugh. Though the reality of the situation isn't funny in the least.

Mark is at the docks today, but you take comfort in knowing that he's on your side. Part of you wishes he would confess to you, and the two of you could get married. Wouldn't that be everything you've ever wanted?

Mark is, however, your dearest friend, and you doubt his affections towards you are romantic. He's never really been that affectionate anyway, save when the two of you are sleeping.

Sometimes you wonder how it would feel if he just decided to kiss you one day. If he decided that he loved you, truly. That he is in love with you, and the two of you can carry on in life together.

That's another thing you despise about this decision. What will happen to you and Mark if you wed another? Surely you'll have to stop sleeping in each other's beds. You'll have to spend more time with your husband. The thought breaks your heart.

What a tender and vulnerable love you have for the fisherman at the docks. It's something no one could replace.

And that's when you decide to lie to your aunt. You can't stand a life without Mark. Not now. So you pretend you don't have to. "Actually, I'm betrothed to someone. His name is Mark."

Your aunt purses her lips. Her entire face is puckered like she just ate something sour, and yet she somehow still looks beautiful. It irks you. "Is he of noble birth?"

"No," you say, straightening your shoulders. "but that isn't important, is it?"

Your aunt meets your daring gaze. She sighs. "No, I suppose it doesn't. Will you have an heir, though?"

"I do hope you aren't suggesting infidelity before marriage," you quip.

Your aunt balks. "Now you're just putting words into my mouth, Y/n—"

"Your Majesty," you correct, clasping your hands together. "and I do believe I am asking the appropriate questions. You wanted me to get betrothed, and I am."

There's a fire in your aunt's eyes. She blinks, settles for a calculated grin, and leans on her palm. "Of course. I only think it's peculiar that your people do not know of the engagement yet. Are the two of you waiting to announce it?"

"Well..." You clench your fists beneath the table, "I have been waiting for the right time..."

"I will host a ball." If you didn't know any better, you'd say your aunt is calling your bluff. And if you say no, she's got you right where she wants you.

You aren't letting her have any say in ruling your people. "Wonderful! I'll tell Mark right away!"

The look on your aunt's face is almost enough to make up for the bile that creeps up your throat.

When Mark comes into his room that night, hair still wet from his bath, you're pacing back and forth in front of his bed.

You're already in your nightgown, and your hair is braided with that familiar seashell pendant tied to the bottom. "I did something bad."

Mark watches the way you take your ring on and off of your finger. "I'm sure it's not that bad, right?"

You stop and face him. "We're getting married, Mark."

The air knocks out of his lungs, and he feels as if someone just punched him in the gut. He clears his throat; blinks. "Pardon?"

You laugh incredulously. "I just– she was getting under my skin, and I thought about how if I get married, we won't be the same, and I couldn't let that be a reality, so I just blurted it out thinking she'd drop it but now she wants to throw a ball and announce it to the people and I can't say no because she'll call my bluff—" you pause to take a deep breath. "Mark, I'm so sorry."

Mark thinks the worst part of this entire ordeal must be you thinking he wouldn't want to marry you. He wants to know when his life got so confusing. He manages a smile. "I guess I should learn how to dance, then, huh?"

"Yeah," you manage a giggle, the worry lines evening out in your forehead. "Yeah, but I can teach you."

"Good," Mark says, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He wonders if you'd be opposed to this being a real thing. He's too much of a coward to ask. "Good."

You've figured out why Mark tied the knots so many times that he received blisters, and why he's always the last one to leave the docks. He's a perfectionist, and he needs everything he does to be done without a single flaw.

This is what it feels like teaching him how to dance. The two of you repeat the same routine over and over again, sometimes seriously, and other times with laughter stopping you in the middle. But each time, Mark insists that he made a mistake. No matter how many times you assure him that he's perfect, he asks to try again.

In the end, it's nearly midnight when he feels somewhat satisfied. The two of you are just swaying back and forth, letting the rest of the record play on. "Are you always so diligent in your tasks?" you ask.

Mark laughs nervously, his shoulders tensing as he shrugs. "I don't like making mistakes."

"You make a lot of them to get where you are, though," you remind him. "You're determined, I'll give you that."

"You have to remember that I'm going to be dancing with the queen in front of everyone," Mark says, eyes searching yours. "They're going to be waiting for me to make a mistake."

"Maybe my aunt," you stick your tongue out in disgust, "but her opinion doesn't matter. As long as we get her out of here, everything can go back to normal."

Mark focuses on your intertwined fingers. He looks solemn, his doe eyes peering. "What exactly is normal? I mean, after we announce a marriage, we can't just take it back. The people will think you're impulsive. It'll ruin your reputation."

Part of you wishes you were back on the docks, the night of that party, meeting Mark for the first time. You still feel the same way; enamored with the innocence of him. An innocence you're ruining with your royal blood. "I don't know, Mark. But I got us in this mess, so I'll deal with the consequences. If you need to break it, I'll help you leave."

Mark dips down and presses his forehead against yours. "Would it be so crazy if we got married for real? Would it be much different than what we're doing now?"

You feel heat rush to your face. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears like the sound of a bongo drum. "I suppose married people do a bit more," you manage to joke.

Mark laughs; shakes his head, and with his face this close, his eyes look like little galaxies. "I mean it. I'm all in if you are."

You nod, liking the way your nose brushes against his. "I want to marry you, Mark."

The night comes and goes; a huge celebration not unlike the one you threw so many months ago.

When it's over, you feel relieved and happy. Your aunt is leaving in the morning, and you're going to marry your best friend. It's sort of a blessing in disguise.

You take off your sandals and get dressed in your pajamas. You step out onto your balcony and feel the wind hit your skin. You sigh. Nothing feels easy anymore, and every decision seems out of your hands. It's enough to make anyone mad, but you hope to hold on to the blessings you've been given.

Specifically, Mark.

You head into his room, hoping to sneak under his covers as usual. Instead of a ready-for-bed Mark, you're greeted with a shirtless Mark.

Time seems frozen as you realize he's just unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it upwards, so that his pants and cummerbund are still intact. He unties the thick sash, and when it falls, you can see the lean outline of his abdomen.

You blink. "Um. Hi."

"Oh!" Mark covers his chest with his hands, which would be quite comical if it weren't for the already-thick tension in the air.

You grab a shirt off of his desk chair and walk over to him. "Here."

Mark's fingers brush against yours when he takes the shirt. Heat radiates off of his naked torso, and you wish he would just put on the stupid shirt already so you can stop thinking things you aren't supposed to think.

Maybe Mark knows what you're thinking. Maybe he's punishing you for getting him into this mess. Whatever the reason, his expression shifts. He takes on a devilish grin and hands the shirt back to you. "Actually, I'm going to keep it off. It's kind of hot in here, isn't it?"

Because he's half naked, you want to scream in frustration. Mark has always been extremely handsome, with his wavy black hair and brown doe eyes. And of course, you've always been curious about what he hides under his shirts, but right now you can't stop staring at him, and things aren't going as you planned at all.

"Should we–" you clear your throat. "Should we sleep?"

Mark hums. He leans his shoulder against the bedpost and looks you up and down, slowly enough for the tension to charge. "Alright," he says abruptly. "Goodnight."

You burrow under the covers and decide not to ever come out again.

The tension is extremely palpable. It feels like a coil, wrapped around the two of you. Neither of you know when, or even if, it's gonna snap.

Mark has tried to focus on his work at the docks, but then Jaehyun is congratulating him, and he's reminded of everything all over again. He wants to ask Jaehyun for help, but he knows he'll sound crazy if he asks how to win his betrothed's heart.

So he tries to do it himself. He attempts to read your expressions when he talks to you for any indication that you're falling in love with him.

Because tension or not, he can't do this if your feelings aren't real. He can't put his heart on the line like that.

Right now, you're safe. Even if the two of you get married, it's still a friend thing. No lines have been crossed, and Mark is afraid that's going to change soon.

But what if it's for all of the wrong reasons?

He ends up sitting on his windowsill, eyeing the lighthouse beam as it shines over the calm sea. He unhinges the latch and opens the window, allowing the ocean air to fill his senses. It's been so long since he sailed away on his boat. Everything has changed.

Mark lets his head fall back against the wall. He closes his eyes tightly and emits a frustrated sigh. Maybe he should just tell you. Maybe it's time to put everything on the line, and if you get weirded out, he can just leave on his sailboat again. Right?

He chuckles to himself. Truthfully, when it comes down to it, he wouldn't change a thing about his predicament. He's thankful for your friendship and love, and he's content enough. After all, your happiness comes first.

You storm in, startling him out of his thoughts. "Someone destroyed the memorial," you say, eyes red from apparent tears.

"What?" Mark manages to stand up. "Who would do that? Why?"

"Noble rebels who don't want me marrying a man of lower class," you hiss, rubbing at your nose. "As if any of that matters when I'm in love with you."

Mark's heart stutters in his chest. Did he hear you correctly? "We— Uh— What do we do?"

"Ugh, nothing," you groan. "Not tonight. Tomorrow I'll address everyone and we'll begin looking for suspects. I'm just... I don't want anyone against us."

"Your aunt is against us," Mark points out.

"Screw her," you mutter. "I wish people saw you the way I did. They wouldn't doubt my decision for a second."

Mark stills when you close the distance with him and rest your palms against his chest. "W-What are you doing?"

"I mentioned that I'm in love with you and you haven't said anything. Does that mean you want to forget it?" A pout forms on your lips, and it takes everything within Mark not to just kiss it off right then and there.

Instead, like an idiot, he stumbles over his words. "I... uh... well..."

"What?" Your eyes are wide and beautiful, but Mark can see the hesitancy in them.

He can see the vulnerability and nakedness. He can feel the coil in his stomach warm when he finally finds his voice. "I've been in love with you since the blisters."

"Ew," you giggle. But still, you drag Mark's face down to meet your own.

He feels your lips on his before he can actually register what's happening. Once his brain catches up, he furrows his brows, determined to give you the best kiss you've ever had.

He cups your jaw and tilts your head just slightly, allowing him better access to your mouth. He feels your fingers trail down his chest and rest atop his hips. The coil in his stomach burns hot, and when you gasp against his mouth, it snaps.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and drags it out, ears ringing at the way you whine his name and clutch his hips more tightly than before. He chuckles and goes back to slower, sensual kisses, focusing on the way you feel and taste and sound. When you smile against his lips, he thinks he's found true freedom.

#freedom au #<if i start a series idk #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #mark lee scenario #nct fluff #nct angst #nct scenario #destwrites #i feel like this doesn’t make any sense BUT i’m getting back into writing scenarios i’ll be better soon!

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ericsonclan · 4 years ago

Text

Wash Free the Blood

Summary: The Ericson pirates stop at a port town where everything goes wrong

Word Count: 6739

Read on AO3:

Prisha felt the cool wind blow across her face as the smell of the sea danced around her nose. Taking a moment, Prisha brushed back the few wisps that had curled round her face before placing her hand on the side of the ship. In a single fluid motion Prisha jumped over the side and landed on the dock with ease. A short breath escaped her lips as her eyes wandered round the island where they had decided to stop. The waters were a beautiful ombre, turquoise changing to deep blue the further the water level went. The water ebbed and flowed with small waves that crashed across the white sands. Palm trees decorated the island, gifting it with shade and some coconuts. It seemed to be a rather small community with a small share of houses at the base before a long walkway led to a sort of white mansion. Prisha paused for a moment. Something about this place felt oddly familiar but she couldn’t quite figure out why. It felt as though the answer was on the tip of her tongue when she heard footsteps stroll down the walkway. She glanced back and a warm, loving smile appeared on her face as she saw it was Violet. The blonde pirate looked up at Prisha and returned the smile before casual intertwining her fingers with hers. The two gazed at each other for a moment before Prisha captured Violet’s lips in a quick, soft kiss. When they pulled apart their eyes locked once more, filled with love.

“Oh boy!” Louis hopped down onto the deck, ending the short moment the two had shared. “This island looks amazing! Right, Clem?” He looked over at his wife with a warm, bright smile before offering her a hand as she made her way to the deck. Clementine accepted the help before replying.

“Yeah, it really is amazing,” She looked out at the town before the wild laughs of Willy, AJ and Mitch appeared behind her. The trio shot passed her and scampered towards the shore, each of them excited to see a new place. Soon all the other pirates exited Ol’ Kickass.

“It sure is lovely,” Sophie gave a soft smile that faltered for a moment as her eyes wandered down to the braces on her arms. Her mind returned to that dreaded day, the day Minnie had died. They had fought so hard for that moment and for what? It filled Sophie’s heart with deep guilt and sorrow.The redheaded pirate was pulled from her swirling thoughts when she felt something warm embrace her hand. Glancing down, she noticed that it was Tenn’s hand. Her younger brother gave a gentle smile up to his sister who tried her best to give it back in kind. Marlon glanced back at the pair for a moment, wondering if he should say anything but before he could Rosie had drawn his attention once more. His eyes grew large before he gave a whistle, commanding Rosie to get back on the ship and stand guard. The pitbull looked saddened by it for a moment but quickly licked Marlon’s hand and ran back onto Ol’ Kickass.

“What's the name of this place again?” Brody asked as she walked alongside Mitch who had calmed down a bit.

“I believe it's name was Ellister.” Aasim called out from the back of the pack. His hand swayed gently with Ruby’s as they walked forward.

“I can’t wait to check this place out!” Willy exclaimed, giving a toothy grin to AJ who was now walking alongside Louis and Clementine. The shaggy haired teen was so lost in his excitement that he failed to notice when he ran into Prisha and Violet, causing their hands to slip away from each other. “Shit, sorry!” Willy gave an apologetic smile to the couple before the back of his shirt was nabbed by Brody and he was pulled back.

“You’re gonna walk with us, Willy,” Brody gave the teen a scolding look before looking back at Prisha. The auburn pirate’s gentle smile faltered for a moment when she saw that Prisha was deep in thought. “Prish?”

“Hmm?” Prisha shook herself out of her thoughts. “My deepest apologies,” Prisha thought to speak more on the growing sense that she knew of this place. But she brushed past it and continued to chat with the crew happily as they began to make their way into the town.

Soon the conversation became heated as different crew members talked about whether or not any of them could cook as great as Omar. Many had taken the side of not being able. Omar seemed to have been blessed by the gods of the seas and winds when it came to cooking so to even think to obtain that level seemed unrealistic. That, however, didn’t stop a few from speaking up that they probably could, mainly Mitch.

“I bet I could cook us some good grub,” Mitch gave a cocky smile before looking over at his love. She didn’t seem to agree. “What?”

“I highly doubt-” Brody’s sentence was cut off though when a voice appeared in front of them.

“Stop right there!” A man dressed in fine deep blue clothes called out, a rapier by his side along with a sidearm. Soon more and more men appeared with him. The Ericson pirates stopped in their tracks, unsure whether they had already been recognized even though they highly doubted that was the case. Aasim had checked to make sure they had been nowhere near this area before. After all the pain they had gone through they simply wanted a break. But then why did the man leading this group look so angry?

Before any of the crew could hope to put together the pieces, the man grabbed Prisha by the collar and dragged her forward. He then gave a harsh hit to Prisha’s gut causing a thread of saliva to escape her lips. The pirates began to move forward but the man didn’t stop. Instead he threw Prisha to the ground and placed his knee on her back while holding back her good arm, twisting it sharply. Prisha let out a sharp, short hiss of pain.

“I never thought I’d live to see that day,”

“The fuck do you think you’re doing!” Violet dashed forward but was immediately picked up by another one of the men. He wrapped his arms through hers and held her up. The blonde pirate’s legs kicked around wildly in the air and she struggled to break free. The other pirates moved forward, ready to help but froze when the other men drew their muskets and aimed them at the crew. Louis held out his arm and stood before Clementine and AJ while Mitch and Brody both moved Willy behind them. Everyone’s guards were up as they tried to protect even one member of their family.

Violet kicked frantically, her pale green eyes glaring at the man that still held Prisha to the ground. “You get your fucking hands off her!” Violet spat, venom in her voice as she saw the man press her wife’s face against the dirt.

“I wouldn’t be so rude,” The man shot back with a sneer. “I’m simply doing my duty as a privateer. You see, I know of this pirate. This filth of the sea. You ran with the Deliverance,” The name made Prisha’s eyes grow large and fill with an array of different emotions; none were positive. “How I’d love to kill you right here and now for what you’ve done,” The privateer’s hand trembled with rage, hovering over his flintlock pistol. Violet struggled once more but was quickly silenced with a harsh hit across the face. The sight made Prisha’s heart tighten.

“Please! There’s no need to hurt her! It’s me who you have an issue with!”

The privateer looked surprised by the fear and worry in Prisha’ eyes as she looked towards her wife. The side of the blonde pirate’s face was still red from the force of the blow. The privateer looked between the two of them and soon his anger returned stronger than before. He turned to the Ericson pirates all of whom looked like they wanted to tear apart the group of privateers. “Drop your weapons! All of them!” he instructed before unholstering his pistol and aiming it at Violet. “Now!”

“Listen to him,” Louis took out his sword and tossed it in front of him. One by one the pile of weapons grew higher as the crew threw in any they had. They weren't going to risk Violet’s life.

“Good. Bind their hands. The duke would love nothing more than to see this one,” He spat towards Prisha. “And if her company is anywhere near as bad, we’ll be doing the seas a favor.” The crew all tried to resist, threatening the privateers as they moved to harm those they loved, but within seconds they were all getting their hands tied. Prisha felt her heartbeat pound in her ears as she watched her family slowly be guided towards the mansion in the distance. In that moment the realization struck her. That's why this place had felt vaguely familiar. It must’ve been one of the places the Deliverance had pillaged years ago. The brutality of those years, the sheer amount of bloodshed and bodies that she had left in her wake, it was all catching up with her and now it would bring Violet and the others in harm’s way.

The crew walked in silence, all of them terrified of what was to come. Some showed it clearly on their faces while others held anger as their main emotion, glaring at the men who pushed them forward. As they neared the building the details became more clear. The white mansion stood on a small elevation overlooking boulders covered in greenery, trees of all sorts growing beside the stone staircases that led up to a small balcony and the front doors. Large windows intricately designed stood proudly by the entrance where pillars shot up from the ground, holding and building into the roof. As they were guided towards the doors Prisha took note of how well the wood of the mansion had held up. This building must have been fairly old and yet it looked nearly brand new.

The privateers pushed the crew into the building which was covered in hardwood flooring. Chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, complementing the multiple tables, desk and shelves that covered the room, each one polished and handcrafted with different types of wood. Large windows brought forth the strong, warm light that showed off the delicate and beautifully sculptured statues that were on display as well as maps and other papers that lay scattered here and there. Whoever was living here was sitting in the lap of luxury, leading a privileged life in their small hideaway from the outside world.

The crew was guided forward towards a room guarded by twin doors made from mahogany. With a mighty push of the doors it was revealed to be a cartography room and a rather large one at that. There hovering over a map with a quill tucked between his middle and ring finger was the duke. In his other hand was a glass of wine, the contents of which swirled around lazily while the man stared at the map intensely. His brown eyes wandered up and noticed the captain of the privateers before he caught sight of the others. He opened his mouth, ready to ask what brought him here today when his eyes fell upon Prisha.

“You,” He placed down his glass and walked in front of his table. “I remember you. Your crew, The Deliverance, butchered the people all around these islands. The blood ran deep in the waters as you heartless bastards pillaged our towns and sliced down our people like it was nothing.” The duke walked forward, his eyes dancing with unyielding hate. With a swift flick of his hand he struck Prisha, causing her to nearly fall over. The different members of the crew lunged forward, each of them wanting to reach out and keep her safe.

“You bastard!” Violet tried to move forward.

“Leave Prisha alone!” Willy snapped at the man but was quickly quieted once his arm was twisted behind him.

“Stop! Please!” Brody begged but her pleas fell on deaf ears. All of the members of the crew started shouting until the duke spoke up again.

“Be silent or I’ll have you join her!” His eyes looked back at Prisha. “I should have you executed for your crimes! Your body held up on display for all to see that justice will be served against those who have wronged us!” Those words made Prisha’s eyes shoot up and lock with the duke's while her friends and wife desperately tried to break free. All of them were terrified by the threat. Before anyone could speak though, a hidden door was opened from behind a bookcase, revealing a tall, short haired man. He was dressed in the finest threads a person could afford. He had a golden jacket detailed with blue flowers that complemented the rest of his shirt and white pants nicely. A vest of the same pattern and colors lay beneath the jacket while the white ruffles of his undershirt spilled out from beneath his vest.

“Father?” The man walked forward and stood beside the duke. “What’s going on?”

“The privateers seem to have caught some pirates including one that ran with The Deliverance.”

The name made the young man flinch; his expression showed how deeply his mind was plagued by those words. “Did they run with The Deliverance too?” The young man’s eyes wandered over to the Ericson pirates.

“No!” Prisha’s voice cracked with desperation. “I was the sole pirate who sailed under that flag!”

The duke glanced over at Prisha, studying her face for a moment. It seemed as though he didn’t fully buy what she was saying. His son’s face, however, held a different look. One with more sympathy to Prisha’s words. His brown eyes scanned hers and noticed something within their depths.

“James,” The duke’s voice snapped the young man’s attention back towards his father. “You don’t need to bother yourself with this. If you needed me for something, you may ask once I am done handing down the sentence.”

James gave a short nod, his gaze turning to the ground for a second then back towards the crew. “What sentence is that?”

“Execution for every last one of them starting with The Deliverance scum,” The duke’s eyes locked onto Prisha, holding nothing but hatred and murderous intent.

“Even the children?” James glanced over at the youngest three of the Ericson pirates.

“Yes, they are too far gone to be spared. After growing up in that lifestyle there is no way to undo it. They all must perish.”

That got a reaction out of the Ericson pirates, all of them shouting once again. Some had nothing but pure anger in their words while others pleaded and begged, all of them trying to get the duke to spare the others’ lives.

The duke felt his blood boil as he gave the signal. In unison the privateers lifted up their muskets towards the pirates once more. “If any of so much as say another word, I will kill your captain right here and now!” He motioned with his hand and the end of a musket pressed against the back of Louis’ skull, ready to end his life in a second should the order be given.

“Father!” James took a step forward. “There is no need for such a show of force. They are all clearly terrified and we already have them captive. Their weapons are no longer with them.”

His son’s words made the duke’s expression soften for a moment. “Fine,” The duke tsked. “Throw them in the cells! Their executions will take place at dawn. Search their ship for anything useful to sell and gather their weapons.”

The privateers nodded and began to drag the Ericson pirates away. The crew all struggled fruitlessly to break free when James spoke up once more in his soft voice.

“Wait! Don’t take them away yet!”

The privateers stopped in their tracks and glanced up at the duke’s son.

“James, what is the meaning of this?” The duke’s face held a level of annoyance to it.

“I think they may be able to help me,” James noticed the look of utter confusion on his father’s face. “You asked me to travel to the edge of the Hastbron Peninsula to be a diplomat for the feuding sides. However with how vicious and relentless The Deliverance has been lately to our neighboring allies and with their captain still at large the privateers must stay here.”

Prisha could feel bile forming in the back of her throat at the mention of the Deliverance’s captain. Her eyes flickered with hatred and fear for a split second but soon returned to an unreadable state. James stared at her for a moment then continued. “If I left Ellister with the privateers this place would be defenseless, but if I had another mode of transportation and guides then I could start the journey and move towards strengthening our bonds and allies from across the sea.”

“And you think these worthless scum would really take you? They’d slit your throat the instant you left!" The duke spat with anger.

“I disagree,” James shook his head. “If we strike a deal with them, I think they will help.”

“And what deal are you proposing?” The duke crossed his arms and looked towards his son.

“They take me across the sea and make the five day journey with me and then return me home. In exchange we will guarantee their lives and not execute them.”

The Ericson pirates’ eyes grew large and they each shared looks, disbelief and hope dancing within them. The duke remained silent for a minute, his eyes darting left and right as he studied the ground thoughtfully. His mind weighed out the options for a few minutes before he spoke.

“Fine, but Ricardo will journey with you.” The duke motioned towards the captain of the privateers then gestured for Louis to be brought forward. “You will take my son towards the Hastbron Peninsula, unharmed and alive. If you so much as harm my son or the captain of my privateers, I will hunt you and your crew down to the ends of the earth and give you the most brutal end imaginable. You’ll be begging for death before I grant it,” His eyes locked with Louis’. With a frantic nod he had agreed to the terms. “Good,” The duke strolled back then turned to face the pirates. “Twenty days. If you do not return by then, I will send out my men. As insurance that you won’t go back on your word, the youngest of your crew will stay here with me.” The duke gestured towards AJ who was brought forward. The duke looked at the crew, happy that he seemed to have made the right call. Based on the look in Louis’ eyes he assumed this to be his son. “Twenty days, or I will kill you all, starting with this one.”

“No!” Clementine lunged forward but was pulled back by the privateers. “I’ll stay behind. Just give AJ back!”

The duke shook his head. “I’ve made my decision. Take my offer or I’ll schedule the executions.”

Clementine bit down on her lip, her anger boiling deep within her as tears threatened to slip from her eyes.

“We’ve agreed.” Aasim spoke up. “But we can’t very well do our part of the deal with bound hands.”

“My privateers will cut you free once you are back at your ship. James, go prepare for the voyage.”

James gave a quick nod and was gone. With nothing more to say, the duke motioned for the pirates to be taken away. The crew was pushed back through the doors and roughly guided to the docks. When they arrived back at Ol’ Kickass Rosie’s ears immediately peaked up before folding down against her head. Baring her teeth, the pitbull began to growl at the group of men that still held the crew captive.

“Tell your mutt to back off,” Ricardo snapped. Marlon gave a short nod and with a sharp whistle Rosie reluctantly withdrew.

“Sorry,” James’ soft voice appeared from behind them as he ran down the path. The tailcoats of his jacket gently fluttered in the wind as he skidded to a halt. Ricardo motioned for the binds to be cut. Once again the guns were lifted on the Ericson pirates as they were instructed to gather their weapons. Their eyes focused on the privateer’s muskets as they cautiously picked up their weapons. Tenn moved forward to gather AJ’s weapons, a sad look overtaking his eyes as he stared at the shivs in his hands. He was pulled away from it in a moment, however, when Sophie placed her hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring smile. Once the weapons were gathered Ricardo demanded that they set sail at once.

“You heard the man!” Louis shouted and stood by the wheel, his hands firmly gripping it. “We set sail for the Hastbron Peninsula!” The crew immediately went to work, dashing around the ship to get it ready for the journey. None of them wanted to waste a second when AJ’s life stood in the balance. James wandered around left and right, offering his help but none of the pirates took it. They didn’t want a bright-eyed, bushy tailed rich boy to slow them down. It wasn’t until Aasim called out for assistance in finding the location that James finally had a role to play.

“It’s right there,” James pointed at a small circle of islands. “Usually when my father took voyages there we would speak of him taking this route. The winds were particularly good there.”

Aasim looked at the map, studying it carefully. “Alright, thank you,” He moved past James and ran up to the wheel to discuss the course with Louis. The captain’s face was plagued with dread and worry but he forced a smile towards his friend.

“Louis!” Marlon’s voice called up from the deck. “We’re ready!”

Louis gave a firm nod and began to steer the ship. His eyes focused on guiding it before they wandered over towards Clementine. Her face was hidden behind the rigging as she walked over towards the center mast. Even though her expression was hidden, Louis could feel the pain and worry radiating off of her. Grabbing onto the rope and twisting it around her arm, Clementine kicked the lever and shot herself into the air, landing directly by the crow’s nest. She needed some time alone. Louis glanced around at his crew. None of them were doing well. Hell, he was a nervous wreck himself. Regardless, they needed to push onward.

So they continued to sail, all of them working in tense silence. The hours flew by as the winds filled the sails and guided Ol’ Kickass towards its destination. Soon nightfall was upon them and they all sat around eating the stew Omar had prepared. No one spoke at first. Everyone was on edge, their walls high as they worried for their loved ones. Ricardo sat across from Prisha and beside James, his eyes never leaving her. Violet grimaced as she finished her bowl. Once she was done she scooted closer to Prisha, her eyes glaring at the captain of the privateers from time to time. Rosie sat beside Marlon, growling softly at James.

The young man cleared his throat and placed down the bowl. “The stew was delicious,” James glanced over at Omar before he looked away, his gaze focused on the ground. Rosie’s continuous growling made him glance up though. “What's the dog’s name?”

“Rosie.” Marlon rested his hand on top of the pitbull’s head who looked up at him with soft eyes. He smiled down at Rosie then glanced over at James who seemed intrigued by the dog. “Do you want to pet her?”

James’ eyes grew large at the suggestion. “Oh, I’m not sure she likes me,”

“Nah. All you have to do is meet her at her level and let her get your scent. I can show you if you want.” Marlon offered.

“Absolutely not!” Ricardo shook his head. “No harm is to come to the duke’s son.”

“Rosie’s a sweetheart, I swear. “Marlon held up a hand and placed the other over his heart.

“It’s alright,” James moved forward then squatted down,

“Now just hold out your hand,” James followed Marlon’s instructions and ever so cautiously held out his hand. Rosie sniffed it intently for a few seconds before licking the young man’s hand. James gave a soft chuckle and patted the top of Rosie’s head.

“I’m calling it a night,” Clementine rose from her spot and began to walk towards the captain’s quarters.

“I’ll come too,” Louis jogged forward and walked beside his love, she didn’t bother to look up, her eyes cast down and too focused on her worry to notice anything else. Louis’ face fell, his hand moving away from Clementine’s as the pair walked forward. One by one the rest of the pirates left, heading off to their hammocks to call it a night. Ricardo’s eyes followed Prisha and Violet as they disappeared below decks before he loudly announced that he would be turning in for the night as well.

“I’ll take the first watch!” Willy offered, scampering off to start the climb to the crow nest but first he quickly ran over and gave Brody a quick hug. “Night, Brody! Night, Mitch!”

“Goodnight, WIlly,” Brody gave a gentle smile over to the teen before he began the climb.

“I’ll be back in two hours for my shift!” Mitch called out before he walked hand in hand below decks with his love.

“I’m heading to bed too,” Ruby gave a gentle kiss to Aasim who clasped her hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I’ll join you soon,” Aasim watched Ruby walk away for a minute then glanced out towards the open sea. Sophie stood on the helm of the ship, her blue eyes focused on the seas while Rosie lay by her feet. Marlon had promised to look after Tenn while Sophie took first shift at the helm.

James scanned the ship for a moment then glanced back at Aasim. “Can I ask you a question?” Aasim looked over at James. “Sure,”

“I know that one of you ran with The Deliverance,”

“Prisha,”

“I was wondering which flag you sail under.” James asked, his arms wrapped around his knees.

“We’re the Ericson pirates.” Aasim replied simply.

“I’ve never heard of you,” James’ nose scrunched in concentration for a minute as his mind tried to decide the truth of Aasim’s answer.

“I wouldn’t suspect you to. We’ve never set sail in your waters until now,” Aasim’s eyes fell for a moment. “We’re not exactly on the same level as the pirates that roam these waters.”

“How so?” “We don’t kill. At least our code directs only to take life when it is absolutely necessary.” Aasim’s words made James’ eyes grow large. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Pirates that didn’t kill on a whim. It was unheard of, at least to him. “You’re surprised.” Aasim noted.

“Sorry, I...” James took a breath when Aasim spoke up once more.

“It's unusual.” Aasim’s fingers traced the deck. “So, why is it so important for you to reach Hastbron Peninsula?”

“I need to get a treaty signed. Two of the islands have been feuding for years now but the only way we can all survive The Deliverance’s attacks is by putting aside our differences and uniting. We have to go the peaceful route and learn to work together or we’re no better than pi-” James caught himself on that word and looked down guilty. “I want to keep Ellister safe.”

Aasim nodded. A silence passed between the pair. Silently the pirate rose from his spot. “I need to check one more thing before turning in. I’d advise you to call it a night.”

“Alright,” James gave a nod and watched for a moment as Aasim disappeared into the cartography room. The duke’s son looked up at the starry sky for a moment then got up and went below decks to sleep.

The next three days were tense. None of the pirates were able to concentrate; none could with AJ stuck back on Ellister as a hostage. It had become clear after the first night that Clementine was struggling. Her eyes were red and her face dry from tears. Louis tried his best to comfort her and be by her side but there was only so much he could do.

Ricardo continued to watch Prisha like a hawk, not trusting her for a minute, which put Violet more on edge. The blonde pirate never left her wife’s side unless it was absolutely necessary. Nothing felt certain over these last few days. The only positives were the few times some of the crew tried to lift the other’s spirits and the short talks here and there with the duke’s son. James was by no means a bad person - after all he had been the one to give the crew a chance to live - but that didn’t separate him from what his father had done. Still, small moments here and there revealed the young man to be a kind soul if not a bit naive and sheltered, one who truly did seem to want the best outcome in this scenario.

Everything was heading towards this being a safe and fast journey. The winds had favored them and the seas had not caused nary a harsh wave nearby. They were only a day’s travel away when Willy spotted something.

“Yo! Louis! I see something out in the water!” The teen’s voice made Louis stroll forward, accepting a spyglass offered to him by Prisha. The captain held it up to his eye and looked out. The sight sent his heart sinking and made a shiver run up his spine. There waving in the wind was a black flag with a skull and crossbones. Pirates. The last thing the crew needed to deal with. He was about to make the call to run but due to the knots at which the enemy ship was traveling they wouldn’t get away in time. They’d have to fight.

“It’s an enemy ship! Everyone man your station and prepare to fight!” Louis’ instructions made all the pirates run to get ready. Most of them worked to prepare the cannons while the rest made sure their weapons were in place. Louis looked around, his heart racing when he noticed that neither the captain of the privateers nor the duke’s son had retreated below decks. “James. You need to-”

The sound of the enemy’s canon cut Louis off as the shot barely missed the ship and caused a loud splash. HIs eyes shot over and grew large in disbelief. The enemy’s ship was already beside theirs. How was it so fast?

There standing on the side of the ship and holding onto one of the ropes was a man with long black hair and hard, cold brown eyes. He wore a blue pirate coat covered in an intricate design. A red sash was tied around his hip and a brown sash filled with knives lay across his chest. The collar of his white undershirt blew in the wind along with the red feather that stood tucked away in his black pirate hat. A smug, cocky smile covered his face as his ship halted to a stop. “I believe you have something of mine,”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Louis strolled forward, his hand resting on top of the hilt of his sword. “Leave now and we can both go about our days.”

The enemy captain stared at Louis for a second before he shook his head. “Sorry, but he’s coming with me.” The man pointed his blade towards James who looked shocked by that statement.

“You can’t have him,” Louis’ words made a frown appear on the captain’s face.

“I didn’t ask for your permission!” the man spat angrily.

“What should we do, Jesse?” A man with black hair and a rapier asked the captain.

“The usual. Men, kill who you have to! We don’t leave until he’s on our ship!” With those words, grappling hooks flew through the air, hooking onto the side of Ol’ Kickass and securing the two ships in place.

Jesse swung across and landed with a hard thunk. Ricardo gave a war cry and charged forward, his sword swinging down towards the enemy pirate. But it never reached its target. Jesse sidestepped it with ease and with one move rammed his cutlass deep into the privateer’s gut. Ricardo let out a shaky gasp as he was lifted into the air and tossed to the side, his body landing in the water and staining it red. The Ericson pirates watched in horror at how easily Jesse had taken down the privateer but they had no time to focus on that.

Soon their ship was swarming with enemy pirates who attacked viciously, forcing them away from their cannons. Violet’s eyes flew around the ship, desperately trying to use her limited sight in the midst of the chaos. She saw that Prisha was in a heated duel with two pirates. Brody dashed over to help while Marlon sicced Rosie on the nearest pirate that was about to attack Louis. Her pale green eyes continued to scan the area when she noticed Jesse slowly walking towards her. She was in his way, blocking his path to James.

With a deep breath she dashed forward and swung out her ironclad knuckles towards the pirate. The captain dodged it with ease but Violet was relentless, attacking again and again, searching for an opening even though he gave none. Jesse stared at her with curiosity. He had noticed the burn marks that plagued her eyes, one of which was completely milky. She was blind and as such should be an easy opponent. He sidestpeed her attack and rushed for her blind spot, slashing out his sword with a quick flick of his wrist. But to his surprise it was blocked by the blonde pirate’s dagger. Jesse backstepped, impressed by the block for a blind pirate. It wouldn’t deter him though; he would simply have to find a weakness and attack it.

He continued to dodge her attacks, throwing some jabs here and there to see how well she could adjust. After a few minutes he had a pretty confident idea of her abilities. With that in mind he feinted an attack to the left, causing Violet to put her defense on that side before he jabbed her side harshly with the hilt of his sword. Violet gasped out a shaky breath and Jesse used the opportunity to grab her collar to pull her closer before digging his foot into her gut and sending her flying towards the main mast. Grabbing one of his knives he tossed it towards his defeated opponent, figuring if the harsh hit didn’t do her in the knife would.

“Shit! Violet!” Sophie called out and dashed forward. Her right arm wrapped around Violet while her left blocked the incoming knife. Before the redheaded pirate had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief though her back collided with the main mast, absorbing most of the damage Violet would’ve sustained. With a cough Sophie crumbled, her grip loosening around Violet as her head fell forward.

“Sophie!” Violet turned to her friend before she grasped her side, hissing in pain. “Damn it,”

Jesse continued on but only made a few steps before a loud voice rang out. “Hey, asshole!” Mitch swung his dagger viciously towards Jesse who blocked it deftly. Mitch skidded across the deck but closed the distance between them in a minute. Again and again he jabbed and sliced with his dagger. His footwork and speed were his strength as he nicked Jesse’s arm ever so slightly. Jesse tsked, his eyes hardening as he worked to defeat Mitch. He studied him carefully, easily finding his weak point, and after a harsh blow to Mitch’s hand forced him to drop his knife the pirate captain threw him overboard.

“Mitch!” Brody called out and tried to go towards him but was blocked by more opponents. Jesse continued forward, fights breaking out and swords clashing all around him when all of the sudden he froze in place. The hairs on his arms stood straight up as he looked towards Clementine. This pirate, she was different. He could feel the aura of bloodlust radiating off her. With one look he could tell she had killed many; her aura was practically swimming in blood. Her golden eyes locked with his and hardened.

Jesse took a recentering breath and then rushed into the fight. His sword clashed with Clementine’s. Metal screeched against metal before both were pushed back. Clementine was the first to strike, sending out a flurry of well-timed and deadly attacks. Jesse carefully blocked them, his eyes studying her movements as he tried to learn her strengths and weaknesses. Both of them received cuts as the fight continued. Clementine tried to land a hard blow to Jesse’s side but he blocked it only to get punched in the face. He spit out blood with anger. His attacks grew harsher as he chipped away at her defenses until he had pushed her towards the side of the ship. Clementine swung out her sword but Jesse quickly disarmed her, causing it to fall to the deck with a faint clatter. His hand found her throat as he pushed her further and further back.

Clementine struggled, her mouth trying to reach his hand to bite it, but Jesse wouldn't give her the chance. Kicking up Clementine’s cutlass, the pirate captain caught it and jammed it into her shoulder, sliding through her flesh and embedding it into the side of the ship. Clementine let out a shaky gasp as the pain coursed through her body. Jesse took a step back, regaining his breath as he reached for a knife to finish the job.

A cry from his right, however, drew away his attention as a short redhead dashed forward. Ruby lunged, her sword raised, but Jesse simply dodged it before kicking her in the face and sending her flying back. Ruby hit the deck hard before rolling to a stop.

“You bastard!” Clementine hissed with venom as she struggled to pull the sword free. Jesse was about to unsheathe the knife when he felt another strong aura of bloodlust from behind him. It sent a shiver down his spine. Risking a look he saw Prisha sprinting to help her friend. He didn’t have time for this. Running forward he pushed a young pirate with short hair out of the way and stood before James. The duke’s son struggled to unsheathe his rapier but Jesse simply took it and tossed it into the sea.

“You’re coming with me,” Jesse gave a smug look and without waiting a second longer grabbed James and tossed him over his shoulder. Dodging battles on the Ericson deck, he ran toward the other ship. Jesse grabbed onto a rope and swung over to the other side, his men soon following suit. Within seconds the ropes were cut and the two ships were drifting apart. Jesse placed a foot on the side of his ship and looked on at the ship he had left. Many of the pirates lay wounded and dazed; the captain of the ship watched on as their ships parted, a look of terror in his eyes.

“You should've given him up right away. No one stops me from getting what I want. Until next time when we meet at Davy Jones’ Locker!” Jesse lifted his hand and gave the signal. Cannon shots rang out as the cannonballs collided and crashed against the ship. After a few seconds Jesse gave another signal to stop firing and with one final look turned around, ready to get the second part of his plan underway.

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