#i mean. i should probably read the books too

[highvern]

Steam III

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: ATLA au, enemies(?) to lovers, forbidden romance, royalty au

General Warnings: violence (bending fights), injuries (mentions of broken bones, burns, blood, bruises), alcohol consumption, mentions of prostitutionSmut Warnings: multiple smut scenes, fingering, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected sex, handjob, hair pulling, marking, virgin!reader, wonwoo has a tiny bit of a corruption kink

Length: ~15.4k | Fic Length: ~60k

Credits: banner: @caelesjjk and @shadowkoo | betas: @tomodachiii @miniseokminnies @gyuswhore @haologram and @wqnwoos

Note: part 3 lets gooooo. crazy that this'll all be over soon. i hope yall enjoy the chaos and more shenanigans from two dumbies in love

summary: Wonwoo is the best fire bender in Capitol City. Or he is. But a water bender he's never seen before changes everything.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

If you hadn’t respected your grandmother so much you would’ve killed her for throwing you to the wolves. It was the inevitable end to the week's festivities, finding a husband. But so far, none the men brought forth sparked any reaction other than disdain and disgust. 

You hated it. You hated them. You hated the entire ordeal of selling yourself off like a prized calf at auction, batting your eyelashes and giggling at unfunny jokes.

But it was your duty. Whether you liked it or not, it had to be done.

That fact repeated in your mind like a mantra as another suitor fumbled through a story about his opinions on nothing.

However, no matter how hard you tried to focus on the men in front of you, all you could think about was the one standing off to the side behind you.

Wonwoo hadn’t mentioned the books you gifted him the previous night; one as an apology for Maoki’s childish behavior, the other as a thank you for taking you to the Lower Block. There wasn’t much time for conversation between the fiasco of the talent show and the early morning appointment with your seamstress he was forced to wait outside of. Maybe after lunch you would have the opportunity. Your copy of The Pearls of Drak was better off with someone who could appreciate it, but the Poems of Stars was a spontaneous choice to throw in. 

That particular copy stayed by your side since childhood, filled with smudged annotations, tear stains and bleeding ink from spilled drinks. You knew the verses by heart yet returned back to it again and again. For some reason, you wanted Wonwoo to read it. More than just the poems, you wanted him to read your copy; see if he found the same meanings you did. If he shed tears at “The Moon’s Widow”, or laughed at the old man in “The Constable”, or if he found “The Belle Dame” as beautiful as you did.

“And Capital City is fine, but the country is where children should be raised. Where they can run and play and learn in the great outdoors. I love the outdoors. Earth beneath your feet…”

Your grandmother meant for it to be an informal tea party. Chatting with multiple men at a time; a convenient way to ease into the courting process considering there were so many suitors to consider, to call upon them individually would take weeks. But the men talked over one another or attempted to subtly block each other from your view so you were forced to receive them one at a time at a table in the corner, a long queue spiraling through the chamber.

You assured it moved rather swiftly.

Duke Zul continued to droll on about his disdain for the city and how the countryside was far superior in all merits. He was old. Too old. As if he was around to witness the mountains form and the oceans rise.

“My apologies, Your Grace.” You smiled; the perfect picture of a demure princess. “But we seem to be out of time.”

The duke blinked, shocked by the interruption. He probably forgot you were there considering you hadn’t spoken since he sat down. It was a nice break from repeating the same set of sentences over and over again like a parrot but it didn’t help the throbbing vein in your temple.

Unfortunately, the moment Zul abandoned his seat, someone else stepped forward to take it.

“Your Highness.” Jao bowed so deeply the hem of his coat swept against the marble floor. A ridiculous shade of green that would only look fashionable on him.

“My Lord,” you greeted in return. “Please sit.”

Flopping into the chair, Jao nibbled on the almond cookies spread on the table before scanning your figure boldly. “Forgive me for being so bold but, you look ravishing this morning.”

“How presumptuous,” you snickered. Jao sang like a dying bird but he always managed to make you laugh.

He picked a piece of lint off his shoulder. “I must say, I’m unimpressed by my competition. They all seem so…plain.”

Jao’s attendance was more for appearances than anything else. He was the spare and could do as he pleased, who he pleased; those who pleased him were decidedly male. Everyone knew it. But his family was powerful and no one made a peep when he demanded time with an old friend.

“Yes, it takes a man of character to wear orange trousers and a green shirt.” You hid your smile in a teacup. 

“I’ll have you know this is the style in the Earth Kingdom.”

“I was unaware the Earth Kingdom was so fond of circus clowns.”

Jao’s brow furrowed. “My brother has been on the throne for ten years and you didn’t know?”

“My deepest apologies.” You dunked one of the cookies in your own tea and bit off the corner.

“I’ll forgive you,” Jao said. “Now, how about we go down to the sages and get this entire ordeal over with? This hard to get game is starting to lose its charm.”

“I—“ you started.

“Your Highness,” Wonwoo interrupted, eyes trained suspiciously on Jao. “You have a meeting.”

“I do?” you asked, eyes wide. There were plenty of meetings happening but none required your presence. Your grandmother made sure of it.

Wonwoo nodded slowly, dragging his eyes away from Jao and setting them on you. “Yes. Now. With Minister Vasa.”

There was no Minister Vasa at the palace this week. There was no Minister Vasa in the history of the kingdom. What was Wonwoo doing?

“Right…Minister Vasa. Sorry, Jao, I must go.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Jao nodded before leaning close, “When you're done with your guard, send him my way.”

“You are horrible,” you whispered.

“Horribly in love,” Jao sighed, snagging another cookie before skittering off.

The line of men groaned in objection as you passed but you ignored every single one of them, cooing empty pleasing words to soothe them. There were more important things to take care of. Like whatever game Wonwoo was playing at.

Out in the hallway, you rounded on him. “Is there a reason I have a meeting with Minister Vasa all of a sudden?”

He had the sense to look embarrassed and a little guilty; ears red, throating bobbing as he swallowed. You tried to object when he grabbed your elbow and steered you further down the hallway away from the room filled with eavesdropping lordlings.

Around the next corner, he finally released you and spoke. “You looked uncomfortable. I was trying to help.”

You blinked in shock. You hadn’t thought about Wonwoo paying attention during your meetings even with him a few feet away. The thoughts you had about his opinions were limited to his amusement at seeing you paraded around, the comments from royals with barely enough brain cells to function. You hadn’t considered he was watching you during the entire ordeal. 

You took a step closer, backing him towards the wall. “You think Jao made me uncomfortable?”

“He asked you to elope with him!” Wonwoo argued.

“Jao is a harmless flirt.” Another step forward, and Wonwoo’s back hit the wall. He didn’t seem to notice.

Wonwoo grumbled. “He didn’t seem harmless.”

You stepped closer, leaving barely an inch of space between you. “You don’t think I could handle Jao myself?”

Wonwoo seemed to finally realize the position he was in, eyes widening when your hands rested on his chest. “You’re right, he probably needed someone to protect him from you.”

“Oh, I’m just sooo terrifying, aren’t I?” Your eyes locked on his mouth. 

He dipped his head, lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “I heard you have a nasty habit of freezing men to walls.”

“Baseless rumors,” you said breathlessly, barely an inch away from kissing him.

Down the corridor, shoes shuffled along the floor, knocking you from whatever trace possessed you to kiss Wonwoo in the hallway where anyone could see. 

They were distant but gaining swiftly. Afraid it was someone coming to speak with you about how rude it was to leave your own party early, you searched for somewhere – anywhere – to hide. Luckily, you recognized the woodland tapestry on the far wall and pulled it aside, shoving Wonwoo behind it before joining him. He tried to speak but you silenced him with a finger against his mouth.

“Why are we in the dark?” Wonwoo whispered, lips dragging against your finger. The words tickled across your skin where you pressed together.

You shushed him, ears perked as the footsteps drew closer.

There wasn’t much space in the cubby to begin with and paired with his broad frame, you were close enough his chest brushed against yours with each inhale. Wonwoo eyes widening when you leaned a little closer; pressed a little firmer, crowded him against the wall with nowhere to retreat once more. He was so warm and solid, completely unlike your element. Intoxicating. Even with someone right outside, you couldn’t resist the urge to touch him. Your hand slid down to his chest and rested on the waistband of his pants.

No one expected you anywhere; you could easily raise on your toes to kiss him and nobody would have a clue; just like you wanted to before being interrupted by reality. You could drown in him, completely swept away while people shuffled right past the tapestry none the wiser. Only swollen lips and ruffled clothing to give you away.

He must have thought the same, eyes darting towards your mouth before he leaned closer…

Only to tuck his face in the crook of your neck and trace the curve with the tip of his nose.

Your fingers curled in his shirt as his breath puffed against your skin, a flare of goosebumps raising with a shiver. The click of footsteps passed and disappeared, but you remained tangled together in the dark.

“Thank you for the books, by the way,” Wonwoo whispered. 

“Did you have a chance to read some of it?”

“A few pages,” he sighed, hands flexed on the dip of your waist.

“Sorry Maoki ruined your copy.” Your own arms snaked around his shoulders, fingers toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck until Wonwoo shuddered. This close, you could feel the blood rushing in his veins, the throb of his pulse beating heavily. Like that night in the forest. “What did you think?”

“The Belle Dame seemed familiar…”

“How so?”

Before Wonwoo could answer, a new pair of footsteps echoed down the corridor. 

“I swear, I thought she went this way,” a squeaky male voice said.

You jolted back, the space between you and Wonwoo growing as you listened intently to the conversation clearly not meant for your ears. His leg still pressed between your legs and your hands bunched in his shirt but whatever haze filled the space evaporated.

Another deeper voice responded, “And what are you planning to do when you find her? Demand a private audience? I doubt she even knows your name.”

“I’ll have you know we spent yesterday afternoon in the gardens together. We would have had a lovely time if it wasn’t for her guard dog getting in the way.”

Maoki.

“She’s absolutely vile,” a new voice chimed. They all stopped right in front of the curtain where you were tangled with your guard dog in an incredibly compromising position. “If she wasn’t in line for the crown then no one would put up with it!”

“Even with the crown, she’s not worth the trouble,” said the deeper voice.

“I don’t know…” said Maoki. “There’s some satisfaction in taming a woman as head strong as her.”

“If she doesn’t bite your head off first.”

“Women like her just need the right man.”

You didn’t need to be tamed by anyone, let alone someone like Maoki. You moved to reveal yourself and remind him of that fact but Wonwoo stopped you with his hand on your elbow, the heat of his palm warming through the delicate fabric of your dress, his thumb rubbing small circles.

“I’ve never met such a beautiful woman with such an ugly disposition.”

When they moved on, you stayed rooted in place, flushed with embarrassment. It would have been one thing to hear their opinions of you alone but in the company of someone else the insults made you flush. Did Wonwoo agree? Were you the vile woman people only put up with because of the glittering crown atop your head? Because it was his job? Was his only motivation the fact you held his life in your hand?

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asked.

The security of the dark, a safe place where dangerous thoughts existed in excess, vanished. He was too close. To you, to the truth, to melting the careful mask of regal indifference crafted from years in the court. You weren’t able to keep it in place as firmly with Wonwoo around and it was terrifying being so close without the armor of a crown. You were practically naked in front of him, only able to hide because he couldn’t see the pinch of your mouth.

You swallowed the embarrassment like thick medicine, healing the parts of you softened and hardening them back as they were. “I’m fine. I’ve heard worse.” 

Not wanting to look at him, you left the alcove and strode down the corridor back towards your apartment. You’d make up some excuse about needing your seamstress before the ball tonight or taking a nap to fill the afternoon, find something to read. Or maybe hide away in the bath until your fingers pruned. Whatever it took to avoid the pity in his eyes.

You didn’t need any excuse. The dress you originally planned to wear needed finishing alterations. Your seamstress Maya pinned and unpinned the hem of your gown dozens of times, hiding her exhaustion with your indecision under her breath. It was beautiful. The red fabric poured down your figure, clinging to every curve and the open back revealed just enough skin. No jewels or embroidery, just simple silk. Something felt missing but after the fifteenth attempt, you and Maya called a truce.

“A little bird told me you left your party early this afternoon,” Han said as she pinned a comb in your hair. 

Sami dabbed perfume around your neck. “With Won—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You watched in the mirror as they exchanged a look over your head, thankful the other servants had dismissed themselves for the night already.

Han grabbed a delicate gold necklace from the stand on the counter and clasped it around your neck. “You like him.”

“Of course I do.”

It felt horrible and freeing to admit it. You spent the entire tea party imagining if it was him sitting across from you and not the others. Just you two. Alone. Talking about books, and his friends in the city. Exchanging stories from childhood. You wanted to know exactly how he got the silver scar at his brow. Share the time you and Mingyu tried to scale the garden walls and ended up with matching scars of your own on the center of your palm.

You liked Wonwoo so much, maybe even felt even more than that; but your feelings didn’t matter. He was who he was and you were what you were. 

Han plucked another pin from the velvet tray and pressed it into your hair. “Then what’s stopping you? You’re the princess. If you can’t be with whoever you love, then what hope is there for the rest of us.”

“I—“ you began to argue, eyes closing. The vein in your temple throbbed. 

“If you really wanted to be with him, you’d go to your grandmother and tell her,” Sami said.

“What if he doesn’t want me?”

Han looked to Sami with disbelief. “She’s joking.”

“The tournament is the day after tomorrow.”

“I know,” you said, focusing on your hands in your lap.

“Are you sure you don’t—”

“I want to get this over with. In silence. If you don’t mind.”

They wrapped up their work as you asked and left with a gentle squeeze on your shoulders. With no more reasonable delays, you exited your room and found Wonwoo sitting on one of the couches reading a book in a crisp black uniform.

He looked up as you approached, wide eyes skirting over your body. The book tumbled out of his hand and onto the cushion as he rose to his feet.

“You look—” he started softly.

Not wanting to hear whatever he had to say, you cut him off. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

The ballroom was packed. You smiled at the crowd even though your heart squeezed, mind replaying over what Wonwoo was going to say over and over again but the crowd inside the ballroom swallowed you whole; an easy distraction. Men and women introduced and reintroduced themselves; like packs of wolves in glittering gowns and fine suits, teeth gleaming in the light of the chandeliers. In the chaos, you forced yourself to concentrate on the years of court manners ingrained in your bones. You were an untouchable island and you would survive tonight and the day after. And when the week was done, you’d be married and whatever Wonwoo planned to say would be forgotten.

Music and laughter bounced off the walls, the dance floor a sea of jewels and colorful silks as couples twirled around. From the ceiling acrobats tangled themselves in silk ropes, flipping and twisting, unraveling just to climb back up and start again. Actors stood on pedestals, skin painted and wearing masks to resemble different spirits; they froze in place as partiers circled them. Through the massive windows of the far wall, you watched hundreds of lanterns float into the sky from the gardens.

One of your favorite festivals and the usual cheer felt impenetrable. If you couldn’t enjoy it, then you’d distract yourself from feeling anything at all.

You danced with every man who asked, successfully avoiding the edge of the dance floor where he waited next to your grandmother. The music swelled and faded over and over until their faces blurred together as you were led straight into the next song. You knew Wonwoo was watching. He was always watching, but you avoided his gaze even though it prickled across your skin. 

When the current dance ended, you curtsied to Kabaar who walked away with a disillusioned frown; most of the men you danced with did. What they anticipated, you didn’t know. You tried to smile and nod and flatter but insincerity rang clear.

The orchestra took a break, leaving you to hover awkwardly on the floor without a partner. Your feet were sore and your head hurt but there were few options to hide without the cover of music and dancing. A walk in the garden? Perfect place to be alone in the dark with Wonwoo. Sneak out the servant's entrance? Your grandmother would kill you. You could douse yourself in wine again but that left you back in your room with Wonwoo. The only option was to take your place on the dias next and rest your feet until another song started.

“How many more are left?” 

“Just two,” Lin said. “Gyan and Char.”

A servant walked passed with a tray of wine and your fingers itched to tip the entire thing over, give yourself a reason to leave early. You snagged a glass and downed it quickly before grabbing another. Your eyes rolled. “Wonderful.”

Lin opened her mouth, no doubt to chastise you for the vulgar display but Gyan materialized as if summoned, offering his hand. 

You turned, a smile plastered back in place. The wine already flushed through your veins. You finished your second cup before taking his hand and spinning back out to the floor.

The rosy glow from alcohol served little relief. Gyan jerked you around the floor, narrowly missing your feet with each step. “You are a lovely dancer, Your Highness. Like a deer.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, teeth clashing together as he pulled you roughly; completely ridiculous. In your tipsy haze, your self control slipped from its tight leash; on instinct, you looked at Wonwoo for the first time tonight. His eyes widened in shock before he schooled his features back to neutral. Then, when you didn’t rush to look away, he offered an awkward smile.

The first time you looked directly at him all night and it was just as dangerous as you knew it would be. 

Luckily, the music changed for the last dance and someone else appeared out of the crowd to distract you.

“Your Highness,” Char announced with a deep bow. “Please honor me with a dance.”

“Of course.” 

Char danced far better than Gyan. He whirled you around the dance floor with graceful expertise, none of the stomping of Gyan or loud chatter the other suitors maintained. The orchestra swelled to fill the silence lingering between you and Char as your mind wandered thousands of miles away.

You stumbled when Char broke the delicate silence. “Have you ever been in love, Your Highness?”

Over Char’s shoulder, you looked straight into a pair of brown eyes again. He seemed prepared this time. The room faded under Wonwoo’s gaze full of unspoken things, full of all the moments someone or something interrupted. A jolt rocketed down your spine. Did he like to dance? Did he know any of the court dances? His bending was graceful enough, he’d probably pick them up quick enough if you showed him. Would he hold you like Char now? Hands proper, high on your bare back just below your shoulder blades. Or would he keep you closer than necessary? Hold you close while spinning across the dance floor. And if he did, when you looked up and met his eyes, would he kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world?

Char spun you away, breaking your staring contest. With your back to Wonwoo, you looked up at the man guiding you across the floor as he spoke again. They weren’t the rich brown you’d grown fond of. They were green and full of pity.

“With your blessing, I intend to compete in the tournament tomorrow and if I win I hope we could grow fond of each other. I think we both understand what it's like to be torn between our duty and our desires.”

“I—” you stuttered. “I would be honored, my lord.”

“I believe we must do the best for our nation, even if our hearts lie elsewhere.” he said, his voice soft, as though the words were almost for himself as much as for you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, voice quivering. Was it that obvious? 

Char looked unconvinced. “Then I apologize for misreading the situation.”

The waltz continued.

Wonwoo stood at attention next to the raised dais where your grandmother sat, her ladies floating around with their maddening laughter as you spun across the dance floor gracefully. Maoki had squeezed himself into the first dance, stumbling about the dance floor, struggling to keep up with your strides. It would have been comical if Wonwoo wasn’t focused on finding a way to kill him.

If she wasn’t in line for the crown then no one would put up with it!

The crown on your head was the least alluring thing about you. If anything, it was the most frustrating part and the entire reason Wonwoo warred inside his mind at all times about his feelings. 

There was so much more, so much you didn’t show the others but Wonwoo witnessed behind closed doors. You were funny, charming, stubborn, infuriating…

He couldn’t figure it out. One moment you were dragging him into dark corners, pressing yourself against him, trying to kiss him. And he wanted to do it. He would have if Maoki didn’t interrupt, spewing nonsense. But then the next you scurried away and ignored his existence. 

It was exasperating. The worst part is he didn’t know if he wanted you to stop. He wanted you. He wanted you in the garden when your lips curled into a frown as you read. He wanted you in the training pavilion when you launched a torrent of water at his head and laughed. He wanted you when you threatened a noble with a smile on your face. He wanted all of it; you in all your forms. He wanted you all the time. But he couldn’t have any of it. 

By the end of the week you’d have a husband and Wonwoo would be back in the barracks with nothing but memories to haunt him.

As every man but him took a turn guiding you across the floor, Wonwoo grew more restless. There were no knowing looks or silent jokes. There was nothing. You were completely absorbed in whatever they said, smiling and nodding along. But he saw the strain at the corner of your eyes, the muscles in your neck taunt and not from perfect posture.

And then, during Gyan’s turn, when he marched you around like the man had frogs in his pants, you looked at him and Wonwoo barely managed to catch himself from racing across the room and whisking you away to demand an explanation. He stayed rooted in place, watching as the music dissolved and the Queen announced her departure. You didn’t wait before leaving as well, striding out the open doors with Wonwoo struggling to follow. 

Servants trailed with him but Wonwoo ignored them. He spent enough nights listening to the prolonged routine of their fussing, this was no different. He fell into line next to them, eyes glued to the dip of your spine visible from the open back of your dress. His fingers flexed at his sides, itching to reach out and feel the heat of your skin against his palms.

Through the door from the sitting room to your bedchamber, he watched from the corner of his eye as they removed your outer robes and jewels before ushering you into the bathroom out of sight. The few servants left prepared your bed before funneling out until Wonwoo was left in stifling solitude with the weight of his feelings. 

He had no business being jealous and yet it squeezed his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. Seeing you bite your tongue pained him. Wonwoo wanted to hear whatever scathing comment bubbled on your tongue, sharing it like a secret only between the two of you. To see that careful wrangled control slip, unravel a shred of your facade to confirm you were still beneath it all. 

Most all, he wanted to wash away that lingering sadness clouding your eyes.

He couldn’t bear the thought of you upset, willing to do anything to fix it. 

He knew one way; a completely selfish, ludacris way to make you feel better. He paced his room like a caged lion as he turned the idea over and over; weighing the benefits and drawbacks. No matter how foolish it would be, the same point reared its head: you’d like it. It was stupid but before he could think more about it he was standing outside your door, hand raised to knock. Just as his knuckles met the hard wood, it shot open. 

“Oh!” you gasped, jumping back in surprise. “I was gonna call a servant for tea. Did you need something?”

Water from your bath clung to your hair, dampening the fabric of your nightgown and making the white fabric sheer around your collarbone. 

“No, I—” His tongue felt too big for his mouth. Like a little boy again gathering the courage to speak to his schoolyard crush, Wonwoo shuffled on his feet as you stared at him confused.

“You what?”

“Do you still have those servant clothes?”

There was a long pause before you nodded.

“Have you ever been to the festival in the city?”

You shook your head no. More beads dropped from your hair with the motion, sparking in the low candlelight as they fell before blotting your top. Wonwoo did not look. 

You weren’t wearing bindings beneath your nightgown. It made perfect sense but Wonwoo never thought about it before. He tried hard not to now.

“Do you want to?” he asked.

Whatever consequences conjured in his mind about sneaking you out of the palace dissolved as a beaming smile took over your face. He couldn’t help but smile too.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but we have to hurry or we’ll miss it.”

You whipped around, beeling for the gigantic bed in the center of your room. Wonwoo instinctively followed. You pulled a pile from beneath the mattress before looking back at him.

“Turn around,” you commanded.

Wonwoo did as asked but even though he couldn’t see you undress, he heard everything. The woosh of your nightgown hitting the floor, the sound of you shimmying the pants up your legs. Two times you’d been completely naked only a few feet from him and it drove him mad. He forced his body to remember why he was doing this; even if he wanted to crowd you down into the mattress and show you all the ways he was better. More giving, more devoted. Wonwoo was going to give you something those lordlings and princes never could: a real taste of the city.

It was easier to navigate the tunnels now that Wonwoo knew where they led. Emerald Park laid deserted and with the celebration at the palace still raging on, the Noble District was still. Wonwoo thanked the spirits for his months of mundane patrols, easily avoiding the footpath of guards as you followed close behind. This late at night most windows were dark and the ones that weren’t, framed people still partying and drinking, completely unaware of anyone sneaking past their door. 

It didn’t take long to reach Merchant’s Row where the streets were packed with more people than usual, most wearing colorful spirit masks and costumes for the occasion; giant paper puppets of spirits floated through the air, lanterns of all colors burning brightly as fireworks exploded overhead, the moon a bright backdrop to dazzling displays.

You fell into step next to Wonwoo, fingers tangled together to keep close. He tried not to think too much about it. 

“Why are they wearing masks?” you asked.

“Tradition.”

Wonwoo snagged two half masks from a merchant stall, a dragon for himself and a parrot for you. Your eyes crinkled as he pulled it over your head. This close he could count every single eyelash. He had the sudden urge to kiss you. Not the wanting kisses he’d come to expect with you. He wanted to kiss you, hold your hand, and just… be. Was he imagining you leaning closer or was he? Your eyes dropped to his mouth and then—

Someone barreled into him before he figured it out.

“Spirits, I’m so sorry!” the man slurred. “Wait, Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo turned to find Soonyoung staring at him with glazed eyes and ruddy cheeks stark against a green unagi mask pushed up on his head. Clearly, the man had started partying early like every year. Wonwoo smelled the reek of fire whisky and there was smudged lipstick hugging his collar. 

“I thought you were working at the palace?”

“Yeah, they, uhhh” Wonwoo panicked. “They gave me the night off.”

But Soonyoung didn’t care for his explanation, he was staring past Wonwoo and staring directly at you with wide eyes.

“Wait, you’re that girl from the warehouse,” he shook a hand in your direction, the bottle of firewhisky clutched in it spilling over. “I’m a huge fan.”

You looked unsure, passing a weary glance to Wonwoo and stepping closer. “Um, thank you?” 

“No, thank you. I haven’t seen Wonwoo get his ass handed to him like that since we were kids.”

“Well,” you smirked. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Do you work at the palace too?”

Wonwoo felt you go rigid. “Something like that.”

Soonyoung leaned conspiratorially towards Wonwoo, whispering loud enough even people across the street could hear through the clamor,“I like her. Here, have this.” 

He forced the half-drank bottle into your hand. Wonwoo watched as you took a confident swing and immediately regretted it.

“This is disgusting!” you sputtered. 

“The more you drink the better it tastes! Nice to meet you!” Soonyoung called before the crowd swept him away.

With his friend gone, you turned back to Wonwoo, face twisted in disgust. “People drink this?” 

Wonwoo snatched the bottle and took a long swing, eyes set on yours. Your face glowed, sweat from every pore thanks to the heat of packed bodies; your lips still wet from the whiskey as your eyes trained on his tongue licking away a rogue drop at the corner of his mouth. 

It was you who broke first this time.

Wading further down the street, you staunchly ignored Wonwoo and combed through the wares of vendors. Talismans and scrolls of all kinds promising a safe winter crowded most tables, others presented jewelry and pottery, spices and cakes. The buzz of whiskey numbs his brain but not his skin. Your hand is still tangled with his as you tug him along. Wonwoo realized he doesn’t really mind shopping, at least with you. You don’t buy anything but you ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over everything like you couldn’t have it all if you really wanted it.

The apothecary’s stall proved to be trouble.

Colorful vials and jars lined the table like neat rows of soldiers in different colors, all with various contents; some ingredients and some finished products. Most were unrecognizable to Wonwoo but he knew the one in your hand well enough.

“That’s not for you,” Wonwoo said as he plucked the vial from your hand and placed it back down, ears burning.

You immediately picked it back up and cradled it to your chest with a furious scowl. “How do you know?”

“It’s an aphrodisiac,” he said harshly. “Planning on seducing someone?”

You don’t need to, he thought. The bottle of fire whiskey in his hand became a dead weight instantly. He took about swig to distract himself as you scrambled to put the vial back.

“For a couple such as yourselves, I’d recommend this one.” The merchant, an old woman with deep wrinkles and silver eyes, lifted a similar vial filled with an inky blue liquid. “Just the thing to help the seed take.”

“The seed?”

Wonwoo pulled you away before she answered. He couldn’t do anything about the images in his head, they were there whether he liked it or not. You, him, back in your bed; so much naked skin; planted between your legs for hours until you both gasped for air. Where he could learn what every hitch of breath or tiny whimper meant, play with you until you're nothing but a soaked mess for him to clean up with his tongue. And only when you begged him for it would Wonwoo give you his cock. Again and again until the inferno inside him ceased.

You wouldn’t beg, though. He knows you wouldn’t because he wouldn’t be able to drag it out long enough that you’d have to. He’d give you everything, cave before you even thought to ask. 

“You don’t need to be such a brute,” you huffed and shrugged his hold off your arm. 

“She’s trying to sell you fertility potions!”

“So! It’s not like I was planning to buy it!” 

In Wonwoo’s head, he imagined the night much differently. Loose flashes of you laughing, gleefully enjoying the chaos of the holiday while he stood back and soaked the sound in. This was anything but that. He didn’t want to argue with you. He especially didn’t want to endure a hard on because of an argument with you; a fact he would never admit even under torture but there was something about the way the air crackled around you when you got fired up. But that hadn’t been the point of sneaking you out of the ivory palace walls.

He wanted a night where you weren’t a princess, and he wasn’t your guard; a night where you were just you, and the insurmountable mountain of reasons his fondness was dangerous didn’t threaten to drown him like a tsunami. Apparently the spirits didn’t agree.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you,” you sniffed. “If you show me where to get one of those things.”

Wonwoo followed your gaze to a group of kids stuffing their face with fried dough covered in powdered sugar. Luckily, he knew exactly where to get one but the velvet purple tent of a fortune teller lured you in.

You tugged at his sleeve, dragging him closer. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“She’s a hack,” Wonwoo snorted.

“What’d you say?” an older voice called through the opening. A woman came out of the darkness, hunched over with knobby fingers and thick dark hair with bolts of gray.

Wonwoo began to corral you away. “Nothing, ma’am. Have a good night.”

“Wait!” she croaked. Her face might have been aged but her silver eyes crackled with energy. “Madam Via sees the unseen, hears the unheard. Step inside and I can find the answers you seek. Or, perhaps, a glimpse of the future?”

Wonwoo shot a glance at your hopeful face before scrubbing a hand down his own and asking, “How much?”

“Three gold coins for her, five for you. I don’t like smart mouths.”

He kept his next remarks under his breath while handing over the coins.

“Come this way dear, I can tell you’re the more pleasant one.” Madam Via returned back inside the tent, leaving you and Wonwoo alone.

“Well, at least she has one thing right,” you snarked.

“I doubt she knows what happened in that greenhouse.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before disappearing behind the curtain.

Wonwoo didn’t like the idea of you going in alone. What if the fortune teller recognized you? As unlikely as it was, the idea made him uncomfortable. But he remembered that you were you and if anyone could handle themselves it was you. Your bite was far worse than your bark and Wonwoo trusted you to handle yourself should need arise. 

It hadn’t stopped him from trying to eavesdrop. 

But the thick purple walls of the tent trapped any noise from the inside. He rocked back and forth on his toes, the chatter of passersby filling the silence alongside the chimes of glass beads strung up around the tent. Having grown comfortable standing at your side at all times, to have you suddenly disappear felt like half of him was absent.

He counted the number of beads in the curtain covering the entrance, traced the golden embroidery of the tent walls until his eyes returned to their starting point. He finished off the bottle of fire whiskey and the weight on his shoulders lightened as his thoughts turned hazy. 

You barrelled out of the tent with an impatient tuff before masking your features. Whatever Madam Via told you, you hadn’t liked it. Your mask was gone and Wonwoo pulled his off too, suddenly feeling silly.

“What did she tell you?”

“Don’t make unnecessary journeys. Oh, and to avoid Komodo Shrimp for the next few days.”

Wonwoo scrunched his nose. “Why?”

“Probably because they aren’t in season. I don’t know!” Your eyes rolled. “She said to send you in.”

Wonwoo shook his head. “I’m not going in there.”

“Awww, big scary Wonwoo afraid of a little old lady,” you teased.

He sighed, knowing there was no way to get out of it. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll stay right here.” He ducked inside.

“Welcome,” Madam Via greeted from her seat at a round table covered with a dark cloth, its surface cluttered with cards and brilliantly colored crystals he’d never seen before; a clear crystal ball sat in the center.

The smell of incense strangled the air, smoke curling towards the ceiling. Inside the tent, low candles illuminated the space in a warm glow, the walls covered in tapestries of different colors and images. It made him feel claustrophobic.

“Sit down, you’re letting all the cold air in.”

Wonwoo mumbled an apology and sat on a cushion across from her.

Madam Via produced a ceramic teapot and pushed it into his hands. “Warm this.”

He didn’t think to ask how she knew he was a firebender. The teapot was cool in his hands but Wonwoo slowly pushed heat into it until steam started curling from the spout. The old woman used the time to spoon dried leaves out of different containers into matching cups and set them in front of him.

“Now, pour the tea.”

“I thought I was here to get my fortune read, not for a tea ceremony,” he quipped.

“I like your girlfriend so I’ll let that one slide but next stupid question and I’ll put a curse on you.” She shook a knobby finger at him. “Now drink your tea.”

Wonwoo wanted to argue but thought better of it. The tea tasted earthy, notes of jasmine and rose bloomed on his taste buds. He finished it quickly, barely allowing it to linger on his tongue before swallowing the last mouthful.

Madam Via snatched the cup from his hands and examined the contents. “Well, isn’t that interesting.”

“What?” Wonwoo tried looking into the cup.

“Reading the leaves is an art. Look at the sides of the cup, what do you see?”

The leaves stuck in odd patterns around the rim and walls of the porcelain. The top formed a clear ring but the sides seemed like nothing more than tangled threads. At the bottom the sediment from the leaves resembled a deformed blob. None of it meant much to him.

“I see…a dirty tea cup.”

“What that girl sees in you,” the fortune teller mumbled under her breath. “Look, there. The leaves form a heart at the bottom.”

“That's a blob,” he said.

This time she swatted him with a fan.

“Fine! It’s a heart. What's the big deal?”

Madan Via swatted him again before explaining. “Hearts mean love and relationships. With the knots on the sides it could be conflict. A crossroads…maybe. A path split in two, but you are caught at the intersection, unable to move in either direction. Any recent trouble with your girlfriend?”

Wonwoo’s ears burned red and he mumbled, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“You love her, she clearly loves you. I’m not sure it’s as complicated as you think.”

“I didn’t say anything about lov—“

“It radiates off you both like the stench of the western harbor. A blind man could see it.” Madam Via rolled her eyes like the idea exhausted her. “I won’t pretend to understand whatever reasons you have for not being with her but what I do understand is you don’t meet a woman like her every century.”

Wonwoo knew she was right but he didn't feel like giving her the satisfaction of agreeing.

“Now, see how some of the leaves form a circle at the rim? It indicates a happy union is on the horizon. So maybe if you had any sense you’d find a way to make things work.”

Yeah, right. Anger burned in his chest. This lady clearly prayed on the hopeless, selling promises of futures with no possibility of coming true. A happy union? In what world would he be allowed to marry you? He’d have better luck airbending than changing the way the world worked. Maybe if you both ran away and started over, became the couple that existed here in the Middle District away from expectations. But how long would that last? You’d never agree anyway; and he didn’t want you to. If he had you, it’d be nothing less than all of you. Crown included.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything.

“Anyway, the future’s a mess. You’ll figure it out, or you won’t. Kiss the pretty girl you love or don’t.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

Wonwoo shook his head, shifting on the cushion. “Are we done here?”

Madam Via’s eyes rolled for the umpteenth time and took a sip of her own suddenly steaming tea. “She asked about you.”

That kept Wonwoo in place. “She did?”

“Of course she did.”

“Whatd she ask?”

“I’m not a charity,” she sniffed. “For two more gold I’ll tell you.”

Crazy old snit. Wonwoo rolled to his feet and ducked out of the tent without looking back. 

Of course, you were gone. It really shouldn’t surprise him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he seethed. He shouldn’t have been that angry; not after spotting you barely a few steps away watching the other festival goers dance but Madam Via’s words wove a cord of frustration deep inside him and it boiled into hot vexation. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he clenched it shut.

You took one look at his face and laughed. “Who ruffled your feathers?”

“You were supposed to wait outside the tent.”

“I’m maybe ten feet away. Is it that big of a deal?”

“What if you got lost? Do you know how to get home?”

“I’d figure it out.”

“Before or after getting in trouble with the guards? Again.” Wonwoo burst out, unable to contain himself.

To your credit, you didn’t stomp your foot like he knew you’d like to. Instead, you iced him out completely and focused back on the people skipping around the plaza to the rapid drumbeat.

Happy union my ass.

He hadn’t enjoyed watching from the sidelines as other men led you around the room earlier. He hated it. Especially when Gyan stomped you around the room like an idiot. He hated that he took so much notice of the fact you pointedly refused to look at him until that point, and then again when Char spun you around the dance floor. As much as he didn’t want to dance now, Wonwoo knew this might be the only chance he’d get.

“Do you… do you want to dance?”

“Are you going to yell at me again?”

Wonwoo shook his head and proceeded to forget everything but relief as you took his hand. The bad mood woven into his veins by the fortune teller fell away, flooded with content to replace it. He spun you around and around to the beat of the drums, time fading until it was just you two and the world outside blurred. This was what he wanted; to be the only two people in the world. Together. 

The next dance involved lots of spins and lifts. As with most peasant dances, partners passed around before coming back and each time you turned away from him, Wonwoo’s heart zapped with something as you came back, beaming from ear to ear. 

He decided he’d dance until his legs stopped working if that smile was a reward.

The music swelled, drums and claps increasing in tempo. On the next pass, Wonwoo snagged you around the waist and pulled you into his chest. Whether it was the fire whiskey or all the spinning that made him dizzy, Wonwoo didn’t know; but it didn’t matter when he bent down and kissed your cheek – a fleeting touch of lips against your skin. It wasn’t anything grand, but as soon as he pulled back, you both froze and his face flushed.

“I—” he faltered. There was no explanation strong enough for why he did it. 

Then you rolled up on your toes and kissed him with unmistakable certainty, right there on the outskirts of the makeshift dance floor, not a care who saw. Your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, your hands wrapped around his neck keeping him close like he’d consider pushing you away. Wonwoo pulled you closer to banish the thought. He didn’t want the heat of pressing you into a wall where no one could see. He wanted the comfort of kissing you out in the open, like any other man in love was allowed to.

Love.

A deafen clap of thunder roared from the sky forced you two apart. Wonwoo jerked back and blinked wildly, pulling you closer in confusion. Something wet hit his face and then again and again as the clouds opened and released thick curtains of rain that soaked you both to the bone in seconds.

Wonwoo grabbed your hand and pulled you through the streets, back towards the palace. The roads cleared thanks to the storm sending everyone inside for cover. He dodged around corners but no one paid attention to a pair of young people running home from a typhoon.

The Noble’s Quarter was dark and Wonwoo knew the guards on patrol would be waiting out the storm at the watch station, waiting for the change in shifts given the late hour. He barreled through the streets with you in tow. Lightning illuminated the streets through the thick sheets of rain but it was muscle memory that guided him back to the statue in the park. He pried open the inconspicuous opening and descended inside, waiting at the bottom for you to join.

One second he was watching you descend the ladder, next he was on his back, cushioning your fall.

“Wonwoo! Are you okay?”

He coughed from your elbow plowed into his stomach.. “What the hell—“

You scrambled up right, sitting on his stomach as your hands caressed his skin, looking for damage. “I’m so sorry! I saw a guard and—“

The rain had matted your hair down to your skull, clung to your lips. He swallowed. Rain rushed outside, a dull hum to match the ring in his ears. You drew water from his hair and he felt the sore spot at the back of his head warmed as you healed the worst of the damage. Wonwoo tried very hard to keep his hands on your waist and not slide them up, pull you down, and kiss you breathless. Your hands traveled down his neck, ghosted over his jaw and made him shiver.

There was a shout from above and you sat up straight, eyes wide.

“We need to get back.”

You both took off down the tunnels, feet pounding against the ground and breath panting loudly. Finally, the familiar passage outside your office rushed up. But you took a last minute turn to a new door Wonwoo had never seen before.

It led to your bedroom.

You waltzed ahead, shrugging off your tunic and stripping to your bindings without a care. Wonwoo had seen you in far less but it didn’t make the roar in his ears any less demanding despite the pain in his back demanding attention. You tossed your clothes back under your bed and turned to him, guiding him to sit while he tried to stare at anything other than the press of your breasts against the silk.

“Does this hurt?” you asked, fingers prodding the tender flesh of his back.

He’d certainly bruise come morning, some lingering soreness if he was lucky. Wonwoo couldn’t find much reason to care about it. Fatigue already blurred the corners of his vision. It’d been such a long night already. If his options were staying awake to find a healer down in the infirmary or going to bed and dealing with the consequences later, he’d trudge down to his room and see to it first thing in the morning. He’d tally it along with all the other wounds he found himself collecting in your presence. “I’m fine.”

“Let me help.”

In the end it was the softness in your eyes that made him acquiesce. In the dark, with the candles and lamps extinguished, the worries that kept him grounded floated away. The rain pounding against the windows lulled his heart. He always slept best when it rained. You disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a pitcher of water.

“Take your shirt off.”

Wonwoo spurted, suddenly completely awake. That was out of the question.

“I can’t heal you through your clothes,” you huffed. 

He swallowed again, remembering the last time you healed him in the field. But this time would be different. He’d let you heal him, maybe kiss you again, and then he’d go to his room down the hall – alone – and pretend it was your hands touching him until he came and fell asleep.

He tugged the soaked shirt over head and closed his eyes.

If he was of sound mind, then the severity of the situation would have him rushing to flee. Alone with the princess, in her bed, with his shirt off and your own clothes crumbled on the floor painted a damning picture. But only the cool relief of the healing water dragged across his spine registered; knotted muscles relaxed, the sting of raw skin dulled and then disappeared under the gentle passes. His eyes closed before leaning forward to give you as much room as possible to continue the hypnotizing pattern.

“Better?” 

You snickered at Wonwoo’s grunt of approval before continuing.

“You’re so tense.” Your palms dug into his shoulders with more force. No longer were they hovering over the skin, now the water provided a wet glide as you massaged the knotted muscles into submission.  

A groan of relief clawed its way out before Wonwoo could swallow it back down. “I’m in charge of a princess that refuses to stay out of trouble.”

“She sounds awful.”

Wonwoo peered over his shoulder to find you focused on healing a cut on his upper arm, a pleased smile spread across your face as the skin knit together in a faint pink line. “She’s not so bad.”

His early arousal stirred just out of reach, stoked into an ember from the fan of your breath against the short hairs at the base of his skull. If he leaned back he would feel your breasts pressed against him, your lips in reach. He wanted to, he really really wanted to. He almost did when you pressed your mouth to his shoulder.

But you pulled away and the cold that rushed into the empty space brought the tiredness he’d ignored all night forward. He could feel the sun just below the horizon; dawn wouldn’t be far off, promising another full day as minder to your meetings and tea parties, listening to entitled nobles fawn over themselves.

Exhausted, Wonwoo slumped forward.

He’d move to the sitting room. All he needed was a minute to find the energy…

You woke shivering. Stripped down to nothing but your under bindings, you tugged the covers tighter, soaking in the pleasant warmth radiating across your back; pushing back into it for more. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, the corners of your room stained dark.

A warm breeze tickled across your shoulder. Odd. Perhaps you forgot to shut the window last night before bed.

It's then you registered a weight across your waist and a rhythmic press against your back in time with that comforting gust of hot, humid air. Consciousness flooded in with each grating moment; until you were awake enough to slap behind you, making contact with something fuzzy and hard. 

A masculine grunt responded, accompanied by a tight squeeze of the arm across your waist, dragging you closer.

Wonwoo.

He nuzzled further into your neck with a sleepy sigh, shifting his leg until his knee pressed between your own.

You considered slapping him again; however, the weariness of last night is too much to overcome for another swing. The consequences of him spending a night in your bed seemed so small next to the relief of his body heat against the cold. Wasn’t his job to protect you? Your greatest threat since he came to the palace was only the lingering cold you felt when he wasn’t around.

You remembered what the fortune teller said last night. 

“Oh dear, Temperance in reverse,” the woman tsk’ed. Her tent was thick with smoky incense, candles burning low to cast the room in shadow.

You eyed the upside down illustration. “What does it mean?”

“Imbalance, struggle, strife. Being pulled in a hundred different directions. There’s conflict between what you want and what you think you can have.”

You can say that again, you thought.

“Maybe something to do with the young man outside?” she continued with an inquisitive brow.

You refused to respond and pulled another card from the spread, laying it next to the first one. A couple wrapped in a warm embrace stared back at you.

“Well, there you have it.”

“Have what exactly?”

“The Lovers. You might be used to making decisions from the head, but you must embrace what your heart wants. A powerful relationship can make the conflict Temperance warns of clearer. Or maybe the relationship itself is causing you confusion.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“And why not? He’s easy enough on the eyes despite the attitude.”

“It's not…there’s nothing going on between us. He wouldn’t—and I can’t—“ you stammered.

“What does your heart want? Think about that and pick the next card.”

Your fingers brushed over the deck, itching to pinch one of the gilded edges and pull it out. You picked the bottom card and laid it down on the table.

“Oh, this is just too easy. The Two of Cups. Embrace your heart. Even if it seems impossible, maybe you’re making things overly complicated.”

It is impossible! you wanted to scream.

As if Madam Via heard your thoughts, her face softened a fraction. “Listen, life is too short not to take advantage of good things. You say it’s complicated? Maybe it is.”

“So what do I do?”

“You do what every person who has ever been in love does: enjoy it while you have it and worry about the future later.”

Worry about the future later…

Maybe the crazy old woman was right. For once in your life, you wanted to enjoy things for what they were in the moment. Like in the warehouse, or against the wall at the market, in the field, in the bath, in the alcove yesterday. Like last night when you danced with Wonwoo and no one cared, not a single soul paid you two attention and he kissed you so infuriatingly close to your mouth before acting like he hadn’t. And when you kissed him after because if he was going to kiss you he needed to do it right. You wanted simple and what you had right now was as simple as it got. Wonwoo asleep in your bed. Wonwoo’s arm tight around your waist. Wonwoo’s cock heavy against the curve of your ass.

There wasn’t anything more simple than stretching against the length of his body, pleased that the tantalizing firmness greeted you with a stretch of his own. Your thighs squeezed on instinct.

You’d seen plenty of men shirtless, through training or tutoring sessions with healers. But seeing men half dressed and feeling the defined muscles so intimately against your back were very different. 

You rolled over to face him, buried your nose against the soft divot of his collarbone and breathed. Sleep tried to claim you again with the gentle rise and fall of his chest but Wonwoo didn’t let you. He was too tempting. Smooth warm skin, soft stomach your nails trace over mindlessly, his own slow breath ghosting against your forehead. You wanted to wrap yourself in him like a blanket and spend the day tucked away. Simple.

The hand around your waist tightened again as you brushed a kiss against his throat. You wanted to kiss him again like last night, when no one was around to offer reminders of how bad an idea it was. Somehow, you knew if you spoke the entire illusion would shatter. All those expectations would rush in; the reasons you shouldn’t want Wonwoo the infuriating way you did – can’t want him. So you didn’t speak. Instead, you feathered more teasing kisses across his shoulder, up his neck, and then a final one on his lips.

Take advantage of the good things. Like how Wonwoo’s hand skated up your back, the pleased groan in response to your nails digging into the crease of his hip bone.

He kissed back, slowly at first, dry chaste passes of his mouth across yours. The kind of kisses you could wake up to every morning without complaint; the inferno of previous encounters completely dormant. You didn’t think about anything else, only the easy way he rolled on top of you for the sake of kissing; tangled your fingers between his own and pressed you further into the mattress. The morning stubble on his chin scratched teasingly along your skin. Your hands acted on their own, cascading down his sides and across his back. The band of his pants brushed the tips of your fingers and you pushed beneath to find more intoxicating heat his body provides.

It was like that for a long time, returning the lazy kisses on your cheeks and chin, nose following the curve of your jaw. But then your legs spread to better accommodate his weight and he was there. The contact stoked you out of sleepy bliss, igniting desperate want. Your hips couldn’t help but curl up slowly, rocking against the length of him pressed right against your bindings.

A million reasons not to do it clouded the air but there was one good reason: you wanted to. And Wonwoo obviously wanted to. What you two did away from prying eyes was a secret you could live with if it meant you got to have at least some part of him.

Wonwoo rolled agonizingly slow between your legs. Each thrust of his sheathed cock pushed tiny mewls from your lips as his trailed further down your neck. He kissed everything he could; the sensitive skin beneath your jaw, the hollow of your throat, down to the seam of your bindings. All while his hands warmed your skin.

He tugged at the knot of your bindings until the silk strips slackened; tracing every newly bare strip of skin with his tongue as you arched and pushed more of your chest into his mouth. 

“Please,” you sighed. You free hand knotted in his hair to give a deliberate tug. “Please.”

Each kiss across your chest and stomach only pushed you closer to the edge of insanity. You coaxed a hand between your legs for the smallest bit of relief, but Wonwoo was already there. He tugged at the small knot keeping the fabric secure until they loosened and then there was nothing between your bodies; you sprawled beneath him completely naked and exposed in the cold sunlight. He mouthed across your thighs, stubble leaving you raw for his tongue to sooth away.

This must be exactly what the maids giggled about over your head. It didn’t seem so funny now that you had it for yourself; the need for him urging you to claw out of your own skin. 

You whined and squirmed under the first tender push of his fingers, parting you for his tongue that followed soon after. The sensation was wholly new and unlike anything you’d felt before. Nothing, not the things you’ve done to yourself or the memorable way Wonwoo fingered you the first time compared to the sweltering glide of his tongue.

“Wonu,” you gasped.

It must be the validation he needed because timid licks became heavy laps across your clit and sucked with enough force you jolted from the bed. Your hips rolled into the intoxicating friction. If you were frustrated before by the incomparable satisfaction of his fingers then this is a whole new level you’d never find again; completely addicting.

He flicked his tongue, fingers curved deep along your inner walls. You were so wet. So embarrassingly wet you’d blush about it if you had the brain power to even consider caring. Wonwoo made sure you didn’t, heady grunts of his own muffled in your core as his hips flexed down into the mattress.

You writhed for it, sweat beading along your skin as instinct took over and every twist of his tongue was met with a grind of your hips along it. Another drag of his mouth and your jaw clenched, legs kicking in an attempt to scramble away but Wonwoo pulled you to him — further down the sheets  — and smothered himself between your legs; rewarding your dry moan with the stretch of another finger. Your eyes went fuzzy but you keep them open because he’s not wearing a shirt and the muscles roping along his spine are too mouth watering to look away.

Fingers itching for something to ground onto, your nails raked through his hair, over his bare shoulders until faint pink lines criss-crossed over pale skin. He moaned again, humped the bed in search for his own pleasure and you sat up on your elbows to watch. 

It's all too much. The first wave drowned you. A squeeze along his fingers, and your hips rocketed off the bed; chasing the rough suck of his lips on your clit. You chanted his name, or something like it, until branded your tongue.

And then it was over. The comedown fizzled through your veins, muscles pliant as they twitched with aftershocks. You didn't — couldn’t — think of anything other than the dull throb and the terrible emptiness inside you as he removed his hand.

Wonwoo peppered more kisses along your stomach and thighs, slow and lingering as you caught your breath.

You pulled at his hair until his face was level enough to kiss, your tongue snaking along his lower lip until he opened his mouth, the taste of yourself evident but not undeterred. He kissed back eagerly as if suddenly you both were more awake. 

Your hand curled into his pants and swallowed a hiss of pleasure as you stroked his cock. You wondered how he would taste, if there was enough time before your maids arrived to kneel between his legs and make him shake and beg like you had; if he’d take the time to teach you exactly how to make him come and let you practice again and again until you were both satisfied.

A prod at his chest with your free hand had him rolling over, lap the perfect seat for you to command him however you saw fit. You kept him locked in a kiss, panting and whining into it as two sets of hands forced his pants down his thighs. He sucked a nipple between his teeth, rougher than before, like he couldn’t get enough of anything. You weren’t any better; jerking him off, grinding against the flexed muscles of his thigh. Wonwoo’s hand cupped yours around his cock, squeezing your grip until it tightened like a vice and fucked himself through it; his stomach collapsed from a sharp gasp.

He was so close, a vision of messy black hair and flushed cheeks beneath you, chest glowing with sweat. An arch of your hips was all it’d take for him to be inside you, filling you, driving away that aching need he’d left since that first night you kissed him. You dove down and lapped at the tender dip of his neck to distract from the foolish idea. 

Your name cracked from his lips, voice low and almost pleading. You were back beneath him in a flash; hands fisted in the sheets as he parted your legs and hooked them around his waist. His cock dug into the softness of your stomach before he moved lower, until the tip nudged your entrance, just breaching as you shifted up to search for more and then…

A sharp rapt at the door shattered the silence, followed by Han’s voice. “Your Highness!”

Wonwoo popped up over you, eyes wide in shock like he hadn’t realized exactly what you both were doing. You shoved him off and rolled from the bed.

“Put your clothes on!” you whispered, words like acid on your tongue. Truly, the last thing you wanted him to do was redress and face the day. You’d much prefer stripping the rest of him and spending the entire day in bed with Wonwoo between your thighs.

However, want as you might, having him in your room was threat enough to both of your reputations, nevermind that you spent the night with him; let him touch without a single protest in ways no one ever had. Almost let him have everything.

Lunging for your robe, you managed to cover enough to avoid suspicion of having Wonwoo in your room. Alone.

You answered the door with too much enthusiasm.

“Your Highness! Wonwoo is—in here?” Han peered over your shoulder to where Wonwoo stood by the window – thankfully – fully dressed. Only the mess of his hair gave inkling to what happened only moments prior, your core still tingled with after effects.

“Yes! Yes, he was helping me with a, um…”

“A bird,” Wonwoo nodded.

“Yes, I slept with the windows open last night to watch the fireworks and woke up to a bird…”

“A big bird!”

“Huge!” you exclaim. “And Wonwoo helped me…get the bird out.”

“Hopefully the poor thing is alright,” Han tutted, approaching the window to look for the imaginary bird she’d never find. 

“It flew right out, perfectly fine,” he rushed to explain.

Han’s shoulders sagged an inch in relief. Apparently, that was enough for her to drop the entire issue of Wonwoo being in your room. “Would Your Majesty like for me to draw a bath? Such stress so early will not serve you well for your meetings.”

“That would be wonderful, Han.”

Wonwoo stood cemented in place as Han disappeared into the bathroom. 

“Shouldn’t you…”

“Right, yeah,” he nodded before striding out the door.

The door to your suite clicked shut with Wonwoo’s departure. Immediately you collapsed into the bed once again, batting away the comforting warmth still lingering from entangled bodies. The pillow you landed face first in still smells like Wonwoo. Like the rain from last night, the powdery smoke that always lingered around him, and the cling of soap. Without thought, you inhaled until your lungs stretched uncomfortably.

So preoccupied, you didn’t hear the pitter patter of Han’s slippers until she stopped at the foot of the bed with a wicked gleam in her eye..

“It was huge, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Out in the seating room, Wonwoo forces his thoughts to the most unpleasant ones he can think of. Hoshi’s sweaty socks, the burn of a thousand fire push ups, freezing showers in the barracks…

He knew it was a bad idea. You had to know it was a bad idea too.

Mingyu lent against the fair wall outside Wonwoo’s room, shaking his head.

“A bird? Really?”

“Shut up,” Wonwoo growled.

“I don’t even need earthbending to tell you're a shit liar. You’re lucky I sent Han in there and not the more chatty servants.”

Wonwoo’s face burned. “I’m not lying.”

“Your shirt is on backwards.”

Wonwoo whipped his head down. His shirt was buttoned and proper but the fact he looked is incriminating enough.

“Whatever you two are not doing, I recommend really not doing it because she’s going to marry one of those princes and next time it might not be someone as gullible as Han who catches you.”

“We weren—”

“Those councilmen are looking for any reason to challenge the line of succession. If it looks like YN can’t control herself – like she let a man below her station compromise her – then her marriage prospects go down. Way down. As in not getting married.”

Mingyu was right. Sneaking you out last night was a risk. A risk he’d been willing to take at the time but a risk nonetheless. But what happened this morning was dangerous, to you, to him. If Han hadn’t interrupted, what would be happening right now? Would you be welcoming Wonwoo between your legs? He’d gotten carried away, forgotten the expectations you carried and why feeling you around him was a horrible idea. And if Han hadn’t knocked? If she stumbled in like a servant was meant to, then what? 

Would she simply have turned a blind eye to her sovereign welcoming her guard between her legs like an eager lover? 

“The Queen invited you for an audience this morning. Wash up and get dressed. You stink.”

“Did she say why?”

“Yeah, I ask her to explain every decision she makes.” Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Be ready in an hour. One of the maids will get you.”

“What about—”

“I’m on babysitting duty today.”

Mingyu left his room and Wonwoo contemplated drowning himself in the bath. 

If the Queen knew what he’d been up to then she had endless ways to ruin his life. His mind wandered wild through the possibilities as he washed up. It seemed no matter how hard he scrubbed his face, your scent and taste clung to his senses; the sweet sound of your voice gasping his name, the wet heat of you on his cock. 

Even the degenerate acts of the morning hadn’t outweighed the comfort of waking up with you in his arms, the gentle kisses across his chest that nearly convinced him he was still dreaming. Anything after that was beyond the realm of reality as far as he was concerned. 

Whatever the Queen knew, or suspected, Wonwoo decided what he had with you was worth the risk. He enjoyed the time he was privileged enough to be granted, the short opportunity to love you and be your friend. Now he’d have to pay up. And if the cost was his life, so be it.

Wonwoo liked rules. The palace was full of them, some more exasperating than others but they kept him from losing his mind trying to figure out how to act. 

Rule one: under no circumstances was it okay to touch the princess.

Rule two: do not speak unless spoken to.

Wonwoo at least had a chance to abide by the second one. Maybe it would earn him clemency for breaking the first one so recklessly.

“Captain Jeon, sit please.”

The Queen perched on a cushion in the center of the Azure Chamber. Candles and lanterns kept the space warm from the storm raging against the windows, fighting to break in. Even the deafening thunder is nothing compared to the crash of his pulse flooding his ears. There were no servants along the walls or bustling back from the table to serve the queen. She was utterly alone and Wonwoo remembered how you cornered Galin the same way.

Spirits help him.

Wonwoo sunk to the cushion across from her, stomach sinking deeper into the floor. He folded his hands in his lap, head bowed. It was easier to maintain bravado in the privacy of his room. In front of her, he felt like a scolded child waiting for judgment. 

“Tea?”

He nodded mutely. 

She gave a dry laugh. Through his eyelashes, Wonwoo saw her knobby hands spoon tea leaves into the porcelain cups as she talked. “You can speak, I won’t take your head for it.”

Not detecting a trap yet, Wonwoo answered. “Yes, Your Majesty. Tea would be great.”

Steam curled above the cups, a thin curtain between the two sides of the table. The queen seemed to appraise him and without realizing, Wonwoo unfurled his hunched shoulders and sat up straighter. 

“What do you think of my granddaughter?”

This is it. A clear trap so she could banish him. 

Wonwoo kept his eyes on the tea cup in his hands. “She will be a great queen, Your Majesty.”

“I have no doubt about that but what do you think about her? Not as queen but as a person.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’ve had dozens of men sit in front of me and wax poetically about my granddaughter and her virtues. She’s beautiful, she’s intelligent, she’s patient—” 

Wonwoo snorted and immediately flushed with panic.

“You disagree?”

“I think…” He risked looking up at her and found her lips quirked in amusement. It gave him the confidence to speak freely. “If that’s all they can compliment then they haven’t been paying good enough attention.”

“Now why do you say that?”

“She's beautiful but she’s as stubborn as a camel elephant. She is intelligent but she’s aggravating.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t listen. Her patience only lasts until the tip of her nose.”

The queen stared at him, surprised by his honesty.

“What else do you notice about my granddaughter?” 

“She’s smart, caring. People respect her. Maybe not the nobles but the staff do. Even in the,” he trailed off. The queen already knew about the nights out of the palace but he felt like those moments - when his friends sung your praises after the fight in the warehouse, when the fortune teller grew fond of you immediately - those were private. 

“Even where, Captain Jeon?” She leveled him with an expectant look. “When you snuck her out of the palace and into the city?”

He could have denied it; spun some story about how he had no idea the princess snuck out right under his nose, no knowledge of the maze of secret passageways beneath the palace. Wonwoo sat up straighter and decided if he was going to go down, he’d do it with dignity. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

She returned the porcelain tea cup in her hand to the lacquered tray, peering at Wonwoo with a smirk. “At least you have honor. Tell me, how did the citizens react to their princess in disguise.” 

“The people in the Middle Districts didn’t know her but they liked her. She earned their respect without them knowing who she was.” He didn’t admit he liked you the moment he laid eyes on you, before he knew your name, or how fierce of a competitor you were; he liked you more after. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I heard she did quite the number on you in the warehouse as well.”

“I—” Wonwoo silenced himself by taking a too large gulp of very hot tea.

“Captain Jeon, do you think anything happens in the palace that I don’t know about? I believe you witnessed her meeting with Galin.”

“You knew he was stealing and did nothing?”

“Who do you suppose whispered in his ear to approach my granddaughter about a new investment? You’ve met the man. He’s not bright enough to tie his own pants let alone run a scheme. It is better to keep the arrogant ones on a shorter leash than the rest.”

“So you set her up?”

“My granddaughter is stubborn and refuses to take the easiest path. Some lessons must be learned the hard way. She needed to learn not to take their word at face value.”

“But why?”

“The royal court is like a poisonous garden, some of the most unassuming plants are the deadliest. She needed to be tested and I believe she would have failed if not for you.” 

He sat speechless.

“Finicky thing, water. It isn’t unyielding like earth, but it’s stubborn in its own way. You can’t keep it where it doesn’t want to be. No matter how you try to contain it, it will find a way around any obstacle. Water can be patient, slowly cutting the path it wants over years and years. But it can also be unwilling and destructive.” She looked to the dark windows, lightning reflecting off the panes. “My granddaughter needed to learn when to act and when to lay in wait for the right moment. At this very moment the nobles are in a frenzy because Galin’s meeting with her. They don’t know what was discussed but they know his grandson no longer resides in the temples his family has learned firebending at for generations. They know his daughters have returned to his estate in the countryside. Her actions have rippled across the court.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Oh, quite the contrary. I think she did a wonderful job taking advantage of that old idiot. There are a few nobles that respect her already. The ones that don’t are close friends of Galin’s and are afraid of her.” 

“Good.”

“And you love her.”

“Yes, but—“ Wonwoo choked. There was honesty and there was stupidity and he feared he crossed the narrow line. “I didn’t mean…”

“When I was her age, I loved a man who was considered below my station. A guard who I became friends with as a young woman in the palace. There were hundreds of reasons not to pursue him and I was too afraid to pursue what I really wanted. I was afraid the nobles would not respect or fear me if I chose love over my duty. It’s one of the greatest regrets of my life.”

“But the king?” Wonwoo trailed off. The queens face grew fond, as if remembering the late king.

“I learned to love my husband and we grew very fond of each other,” she admitted. “But I don’t want my granddaughter to grow fond of a man when she has the opportunity to avoid the mistakes I made and marry a man she loves.”

She was talking about him. You loved him. Or, at least, the Queen thought so. And she was on his side. The queen, the one person with the power to make things work, wanted him to be with you. It didn’t feel real.

For a moment Wonwoo thought you wouldn’t appreciate being left out of such an important conversation. If he wanted to be with you, marry you, then the first person he should’ve spoken with about it was you. He imagined the anger, the hopefully empty threats to refuse given he didn’t ask you if you even wanted to marry him. But he also realized it was a good thing he didn’t because if he knew you wanted him completely – entirely – and there wasn’t a way to give you that, he’d never live with the disappointment.

“Tell me what to do.”

The queen pressed her hands to the table. There was a loose family resemblance but it was obvious in the raise of her chin and the stubborn tilt of her brow  “The tournament for her hand starts tomorrow. In all honesty, I find it barbaric but the nobles respect tradition even if it’s a formality.”

Wonwoo knew about the tournament vaguely. Eligible royalty would declare themselves interested by competing, the winner married you. But Wonwoo wasn’t royal.  “I can’t compete. I don’t have a title. I don’t have anything.”

“Nowhere in the rules does it require competitors to be titled. I believe, in my most recent reading this morning, it said competitors only need to be in good standing with the crown. Since I am the crown and I like you, I’d say that’ll do the trick. Besides, you don’t need to prove you are as good as those brats. You need to be better and based on Aiko’s appraisal of you, I’m confident you’ll succeed.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you love my granddaughter?”

Wonwoo answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Enough to marry her? To commit your life not just to her but to the kingdom?”

Then, Wonwoo hesitated. He knew he loved you, that he wanted to be with you. But did he want to rule a country? Live his life on display for the world to see? With a silver crown balanced precariously on his head?

“It’s a lot to ask. And it won’t be easy. Many of the nobles will object, even ones who I’d consider friends. But I’m quite fond of change. And you might be what this kingdom needs.”

Was he ready to help rule a country? He didn’t have the education or the money the others had; didn’t possess the connections from generations of high society. What could Wonwoo offer you that no other man could? What could he give you beyond himself?

But he remembered those times you sought him out in a crowd. When you drowned in the weight of responsibilities, he managed to pull you back above the surface. When you rushed ahead, he pulled you back. And when you didn't let anyone see the true you - you trusted Wonwoo to see and understand.

The only thing Wonwoo could give you was a sanctuary to ease your burdens.

Maybe that was enough.

“I’ll do it.”

You hid in the farthest edges of the garden, where the bristle grew in thick unkempt patches and the hedges nearly reached the sky. The worst of the rain had given way to a steady hammering, clouds thick enough the moon couldn’t shine through. Your shoes were ruined; caked with mud. The saturated ground refused to swallow more water, puddles the size of swimming pools spanning from one side of your escape to the other. Wind whipped cheeks burned from each stinging drop of rain and the warm tears you couldn’t stop. It was dull knowledge at the back of your consciousness. 

Your heart laid heaving at your feet, half of it left in your room with Wonwoo. The other half still sitting in your chest ached for him too. Neither part belonged to you and you don’t know when it happened; when Wonwoo stole your heart and left you missing him even when he was within arms reach.

Or maybe you gave it to him that first night you snuck down to the warehouses and watched match after match for hours, only paying attention when Wonwoo was at the center of it. Or in the market when he saved you and didn’t have to. In the forest when he treated you like an equal. Maybe you chipped a small part away for him each time and now there was nothing left; nothing except for the lonely void for him to fill in ways he never could. 

But it didn’t matter. What you felt wasn’t important, whatever it was couldn’t come true. There wasn’t a magic wand to wave and fix everything that was broken. What could you do? What could you do when there was no way to be with the only person you ever wanted?

You wanted to find Wonwoo and demand an answer; shake him until all the pieces fell into place. 

However, your grandmother swept him into a meeting and kept him all day. None of the servants would tell you where they were and even when you discovered their location the guards wouldn’t budge. You found yourself pacing like a caged tiger, back and forth in front of the doors; hours dragged on and no one emerged so the gardens offered a respite from the anxiety. 

Dread filled its place.

You felt the rain all around. Everything it touched dully tickled at your senses. That’s why you weren’t surprised when Wonwoo finally approached after spending fifteen minutes watching you from the archway. 

“You’ll catch your death out here.”

“How horrible,” you said. You kept your eyes glued to the pond at your feet, how the surface rippled wildly from the rain. “What do you want?”

Wonwoo appeared in front of you, kneeling in the mud at your feet, only an arms reach away and yet so much further. “I’m seeking an audience with Your Highness.”

“Didn’t you spend all day with my grandmother?” You didn’t even attempt to hide the hurt in your tone. The last day of your freedom and he spent it locked away from you. 

“Unfortunately, she couldn’t answer my question.” He’s soaked to the bone, the crisp lines of his uniforms limp from the weight of water. You’re at home in a storm like these. Wonwoo looked woefully out of place.

You swallowed thickly. “And what is your dilemma?”

“I'm in love with the queen-to-be. And I'm inquiring if she loves me too.”

The tears came hot and fast; you tried to blink them back but it was useless. Your head tilted back slightly, inviting more rain to sting on your face;  they mixed with the tears washing down your face.

“I…” Your voice cracked. Wonwoo leveled his gaze with your own, searching for something. The mist of the rain blurred the space between you. “Of course I do and try as I might, I can’t figure a way out of it.”

An eternity passed in silence. Wonwoo watched you, the pathetic sight of red rimmed eyes and soaked clothes. He didn’t shy away from the ugliness you felt. He leaned closer, his hand trembling slightly as he grabbed yours, as if testing the waters. You let him.

“What if I had a way?”

“Wonwoo…” you sighed and looked away. You couldn’t bear to look at the desperate longing in his eyes; or how it mirrored your own heart.

“Don’t say my name like that.” He moved closer,  hands resting on your thighs. You felt everything through your dress. His hands are almost unbearably hot even in the cold rain.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re saying goodbye.”

The rain fell harder. Deafening. You exploded with it, solemn tears turning into angry ones. “Isn’t that what we’re doing? After tomorrow this ends.” You motioned towards your hands. “I won’t have you standing next to me if I can’t have all of you. I won’t. I won’t do it.”

You’d been lulled into a false sense of security the past week. Dealing with reality in the daylight and having him in the shadows and the quiet dark of the night. You fooled yourself to believe it was enough, at least for the time. But you had to marry and your husband – no matter how forgiving – would never tolerate your closeness with Wonwoo; you wouldn’t be in their shoes. 

Wonwoo didn’t let you hide from him. He cupped your face, forced you to look at him but you shut your eyes and refused; pressed his forehead to yours so his breath ghosted over your lips with his next words. “If you could marry me, would you?” 

You wanted to scream It doesn’t matter! It didn’t matter that you loved him. It didn’t matter if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You couldn’t have him. The world worked in absolutes and this was one of them.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s impossible. Why even—”

“I didn’t ask what was impossible. I asked if you’d marry me.”

You didn’t hesitate to finally open your eyes and meet his brown ones. “Yes.”

“Then trust me,” he asked softly. Begging.

“What exactly did my grandmother say to you?”

Wonwoo blanched, blinking as if he hadn’t expected you to ask. 

“I—We have a plan. You’re not going to like it…”

“But?”

“She told me not to tell you.”

You exploded from the bench, crowding down on Wonwoo.  “Are you serious? You expect me to blindly follow whatever plan you made with her and I don’t even get to know what it is”

“It has to be done a certain way.” Wonwoo stood and swept you into his arms. There was no one out here to see, no one stupid enough to catch an early death. Besides you two. “Just trust me. Please?”

You sank into him, savoring the comforting warmth he brought with him everywhere. You traced the hem of his collar with soft fingers. You did trust him. It wasn’t natural for you to put your faith in many people but time and time again Wonwoo showed you he was a good man. “Fine. But if this doesn’t work I’m going to drown you.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he whispered into your hair. “Now will you come inside? It’s disgusting out here.”

Back in the seclusion of your apartment, you pinned Wonwoo to the couch, commanded his lap and sucked the rain from his lips. You lingered, sunk into the warmth of his hands tenderly tracing your back; the same comfort of a warm summer breeze softly brushing your skin even in the chill of damp clothes. You both lingered there. Tucked away from the rest of the palace, an unspoken promise lingering in the air. You kissed him until the aching in your chest dulled.

You didn’t know what the morning would bring but you trusted Wonwoo. 

And that was enough.

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[seriousbrat]

Why do people like Lily? From what we've seen of her in the books she seems like a charming and good hearted person but also someone who is shallow, judgemental, a social climber, a classist and immature. Why do people make her out to be this feminist, kind hearted role model that is always morally above others and everyone likes her because she is oh so kind and great? It makes me cringe. From the text we can see that she had a black and white thinking, was shallow and probably self righeous, always thinking she's right and not being able to see the perspective of others. (We can see this in her interactions with Snape) So why do people love her? Do people really need a 'girl boss' in every fandom? There always seems to be one that's just made up by the fans. It looks like people just need a character they can point at and say "see we care about female characters, this one is oh so great, she can't do no wrong, worship her please." 🙄

Look, no offence, but... what? 'Shallow, classist, judgmental, social climber' what? Where are you getting this? Because she stopped being friends with a boy who literally called her a slur? Because she criticised that boy for defending and befriending people who were bigoted against people like herself? Like sorry but I think I'm entirely the wrong person to come to with this kind of thing. I fully disagree. I could not disagree more.

Black and white thinking? The opposite. Lily remained friends with someone who espoused the exact opposite of her beliefs for way too long. Not just her beliefs, but her right to exist. She tolerated Snape (and I do love him as a character, but still) way more than she should have, objectively speaking. That's the opposite of black and white. She was way too understanding, way too empathetic with him. She didn't judge Snape hard enough, in my opinion.

Nah, look idk what you were hoping with this ask but I'm sorry, I'm generally a staunch Lily defender and I heavily disagree with what you're saying. It's not that I think she's a perfect person, she certainly has her flaws like anyone. I don't think that she should be idealised, I think she should be given complexity like any character, but neither do I think she's classist (esp since she's meant to be working class) nor particularly judgmental nor shallow nor immature. I love Snape but he was terrible to her. He befriended people who wanted her dead. Lily didn't owe him anything, and her """righteousness""" as you say is not only entirely justified, but objectively speaking she should have dropped that bitch way earlier.

Why do people (including myself) love Lily? Because she was a good person. Because she was brave and decent and kind. She remained friends with Sev for years despite peer pressure and common sense and she defended him without hesitation. She dedicated her life to fighting for what was right. Lily is a good person. She's not inherently, morally above others, she's not perfect but she was a good, kind person, the way her son is a good, kind person.

Not that difficult to understand imo, unless you have way higher standards for male characters than female characters. Not everyone has to like or be interested in Lily but pretending she's somehow worse/less worthy of interest than Snape, James, Sirius, Regulus, etc (and I imagine you've got to be a fan of some of these marauders era characters if you're reading my blog) because she dropped a guy who wanted to join a fascist group that wanted her dead is absolutely ridiculous.

Lily is so kind and great. Her act of bravery and sacrifice is what kickstarts the entire HP series. Sorry. Like absolutely not, I completely disagree with you about Lily's character. People liking a female character doesn't mean that they have a shallow 'girl boss' approach to that character, and I find that a condescending explanation for why people like myself might be fans of Lily Evans. Maybe, and you perhaps should consider this, us fans of Lily just enjoy and are interested in female characters the exact same way we might be interested in male ones.

Look I don't want to be mean, but can't you tell from my icon, which is clearly supposed to be Lily, that I love Lily? Lily is one of my favourite HP characters. I really don't want to be rude but I'm absolutely the last person who'd share this viewpoint.

[madockisser]

is it strange that i want to know what cardan like thinks abt like everything- especially mortal shit. like i want to see what he thinks of different films, music, celebrities, books, or mortal clothing, etc. like idk i just obsess over what he’d think about certain things.

Random faerie lore- specially cardan/ faeries in the mortal world

LOL i hope not because i do that! also thank you for asking this, i was hoping someone should ask something that would allow me to spew my faerie in mortal world knowledge out!

now- honestly cardan and that Alice and wonderland book is what made me fall head over heels for him

i remember seeing it on TikTok years ago, about how Alice and wonderland is a mortal book that mirrors Jude’s life, and that cardan saw Jude in Alice.

and i hadn’t even considered it before, i was young and didn’t gaf abt little details, but look at me now, delving into every little thing abt that series.

since cardan is fae, it’s natural for us to wonder at how he sees the world and Jude.

below are some things i PERSONALLY think he may like or dislike about the mortal world.

i think he’d really enjoy learning the history of human music, i think he would like classical music (seems most likely)

i love to think that he’d get obsessed w how Jude is Latina and want to learn more about that part of human culture. I feel like he’d encourage Jude to do so too, since elfhame is all about HIS culture and whatnot.

he’d probably also like casually reading about human history, cross referencing it with faerie history and stuff, but also having to unlearn any biases both humans and faeries may write in their history books

i don’t think he’d like celebrities much, since he isn’t fond of “fake people” and that’s pretty much every celeb (sorry) BUT i think he would enjoy watching their drama lol, if it were like the early 2000s or even 2010s i feel like he would have fun w that sort of reality show vibe

he’d probably adore human poetry, like the old ones, and he’d probably enjoy older movies too. i can imagine him enjoying Shakespeare (bro would love Romeo and Juliet and compare it to him and Jude) and liking the ballet or marching bands or something random like that (😭)

anyway i just know he LOVES Jude’s mortal underclothes, lowkey he’d probably love the thought that she’s the only one in elfhame wearing them (he’d also probably see them as sorta sexual, only because when i think of faerie underclothes i think of a nightgown and possibly a corset, which doesnt show a ton of skin, whereas a bra and panties are wayyy more revealing)

you didn’t mention food, but there’s a ton of salt in mortal food, but i still think he’d eat it anyway. i guess the way salt works is that it just dulls magics(?) like it won’t physically harm him, but his magic won’t be very strong, like a depressant drug or something (is that a weird comparison 😭) BUT it reminds me of how nevermore is like an enhancer drug, so does that mean nevermore is the opposite of salt? (Literally just spewing nonsense atp)

but he liked dumplings, i think he would like other Asian foods. he’d hate pickles bc of the salt content, and he’d hate chips for the same reason i feel like. he’d probably love a good fruit salad (giggling at this) and trying all the human fruits that they don’t have in elfhame (also desserts)

anyway faeries have to be careful about chemicals, vivienne buys all organic shampoos and body washes, so we can assume she has to be careful with the same. it’s to be noted that her and oakey eat fish sticks and chemically dyed cereal, AND also pain pills? so i guess what they consume doesn’t have to be completely natural?

Add on: in the modern faerie tales, faeries cannot smoke cigarettes or they pretty much die on the spot according to roiben, when Kaye takes a drag her eyes water she she starts choking. ALSO corny in tmft, sprays a faerie in the face w a cleaning spray and bro dies on the spot so…

personally, i think the more checmially foods they eat, the worse they feel, and the lower energy they have. faeries seem to run on the foods they eat like it’s fuel, soo eating human food is probably not too great for them. vivi seems to be doing fine tho(perhaps bc she’s half human AND she grew up eating that stuff? Same w Kaye). Makes sense why oaks a vegan as well in tsh.

anyway imagining cardan in the mortal world is funny but weird, like he totally doesn’t fit lol

what i can remember from htkoelths, he seemed used to the strangeness. like he expected it.

since elfhame seems so small compared to the mortal world, i assume that some faeries are pretty casually human like, in terms of clothing and even behaviors (based on the bomb, kaye, etc)

also a lot of them (the ones not from elfhame or living on the isles) live nearby humans, so they’re pretty used to them I’d say.

It makes sense for the fae to be used to humans, since they’re everywhere. they’re also in elfhame, whether they’re glamoured or no.

anyway, cardan had access to the mortal world, so who knows how often he really went and dropped off slaves, or just went to visit.

balekin probably took him once and was like “damn little bro, look at all this hot garbage! Humans suck so I’m gonna use them to belittle you! haha”

anyway, i refuse to put anything else in my drafts bc im scared my drafts are slowly disappearing (BTW someone sent me a Locke and cardan ask the other day, and IT GOT DELETED after i wrote half of it, so if it was you that sent it, resend it perchance bc i forgot what the question even was)

on that note, thank you for the ask! this was messy and randomly thrown together lol but i liked writing it 🫶 feel free to add on as always!!

[sokkastyles]

I have some thoughts about Iroh bonding with Azula and Ozai, after reading your post about it. I find it very interesting to think that Iroh probably is reminded a lot about his relationship, or a lack of it sort of, with Ozai whenever he sees Zuko and Azula interact with each other. I think there are very interesting parallels between both sibling pairs. I also find it very strange that people think that Iroh didn't do enough to help Azula, because I don't think that's completely true. After the scene in Book 2 when Azula almost kills Iroh after shooting a lightning bolt at him, Zuko's response to him asking what they are going to do about Azula is "I know, she's my sister and I should get along with her." This pretty strongly implies that Iroh (and Ursa also most likely) did try to encourage Azula and Zuko to actually try to get along at some point, most probably because he didn't want them to have a strained, basically nonexistent relationship with each other like he does with Ozai. There's also the fact that Zuko would have still wanted to have some type of relationship with any of his family members, and Iroh absolutely would have supported this. I think this is very interesting to think about, because while Iroh and Ozai both grew up believing very strongly in Fire Nation propaganda and ideals, by the time Iroh realizes the truth about the Fire Nation, he's lost his son and his family is shattered in other ways too. Iroh sees how ruthless and cold Ozai becomes and he would never want that to happen to either Zuko or Azula. But he sees that Azula is becoming like that due to Ozai's influence, and I really think that he wanted Zuko and Azula to keep trying to get along as a way of circumventing Ozai's influence on both of them. Whether or not that was enough is debatable I suppose, but I think what changes Iroh's mind on this completely is when Zuko's face gets scarred. I think that's when Iroh would have realized that there's no real way to get through to Azula or Ozai, because they are both violent and manipulative. I don't think any of this can or should be reduced down to Iroh not having done enough to help Azula. While I also do think Azula was failed by the adults around her due to not having anybody around her who could have helped curb some of Ozai's influence, she absolutely should be held accountable for the things she did (and the actual situation surrounding why no one would go against Ozai at that time is quite complicated). This was basically my long-winded way of saying Iroh-Ozai and Zuko-Azula are very interesting to think about as narrative parrallels. What are your thoughts on this?

Yeah, I mean, the fact that Zuko thinks Iroh is going to say that he should learn to get along with his sister is evidence that Iroh isn't pushing some anti azula agenda. But Iroh is also very much reacting to the things Azula has done so far, not just the agni kai and the fact that she was sitting right there smiling at Zuko being burned, which I do agree was an eye opening moment for him.

Iroh's regrets are often about feeling like he didn't do enough, and I think he did try to shield Zuko in a lot of ways from how bad his family was, thinking that that would make things better. Even in "The Avatar State," Iroh is rightfully suspicious of Zuko but goes along with things not just because Zuko won't listen, but because it's hard to tell someone that their loved one is abusive. It was probably hard for Iroh to realize that. I don't know how much of that conversation he ever had with Zuko before, but the impression I get is not a lot.

There's this moment that I think is under-discussed before Azula meets Zuko and Iroh for the first time, where she is practicing lightning, and the scene cuts to Iroh noticing the lightning on the horizon with a wary look. This is supposed to tell us that Iroh knows either Azula or Ozai is after them, but I don't know that he ever said anything to Zuko. I think for a long time he hoped he wouldn't have to have that conversation at all. But he also had to know that he couldn't keep Zuko safe forever, that whatever freedom Zuko's banishment offered would never last.

So when Zuko modifies his need to protect himself from Azula with "I know I should be trying to get along with her," I don't think this is Iroh saying this out of lack of trying to bring the family together. It might even be Iroh feeling guilty for having said something similar in the past, or felt something similar, since we know from Legacy of the Fire Nation that he did once have those thoughts about Ozai, and since we know he got Azula a doll. Like, maybe he was thinking about all those warning signs he ignored or tried to downplay, because no one wants to think a father would hurt their son or a sister would want to hurt their brother. Maybe he was thinking about his own guilt about not trying harder to "get along," and it was important for him to not let Zuko suffer the same feelings, to let Zuko know that he didn't have to stand by the way Iroh himself did for so long, for his own protection and for other people's protection.

Can you imagine Iroh having a similar thought process, right before the agni kai, about how surely Ozai would not really hurt his own son?

Or maybe Iroh was thinking about how Zuko thought he couldn't defend himself from his own father for the sake of family. "She's my sister," sounds a lot like "I'm your loyal son," doesn't it?

I mean, if I had to guess what Iroh was thinking after Zuko got scarred, it might be similar.

He was my brother. It was his son. I didn't know.

I have no time for people who think Iroh is acting out of some weird prejudice and isn't intimately familiar with what it feels like to love a sibling who isn't capable of loving you back.

[thesparkling-diamond27]

Dancing Through Life

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.

A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).

I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!

It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.

I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.

Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.

I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.

“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.

“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.

I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.

“It’s Friday.” He continued.

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.

“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.

“This is fun to me.”

“School work is fun?”

“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”

“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”

“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”

“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”

“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”

“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.

“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”

I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room to find another book.”

“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”

“No.”

I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.

“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”

He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.

“Hey give that back!”

I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.

“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”

Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”

I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?

“Princess?”

“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.

I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.

“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you two are a thing.”

Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”

My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.

“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.

That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.

I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.

“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”

“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.

“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.

“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”

I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”

I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.

“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.

“No I’d rather not.”

I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.

“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.

“How?”

“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”

“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”

“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”

“I’ll pass.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left her at home.”

Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.

“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.

Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”

I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”

“It’s beautiful.”

I stopped walking and choked on air.

“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.

“Which way is your room?”

I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.

“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.

“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.

“Y/n.”

Fiyero smiled at my response.

“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”

I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.

“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”

Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.

“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”

His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.

He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.

—————————

I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.

“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.

“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.

“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.

“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.

“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”

“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.

“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”

“Fiyero.”

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.

“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”

“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”

I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.

When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.

Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.

Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.

“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.

“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.

“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”

“Oh?!”

“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”

“Hmm hmm.”

“Nothing else happened!”

“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Why-“

“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”

Ezra looped his arm with mine.

“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”

“I’m not going to—“

“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”

Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.

“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.

“Well go on.” He prompted.

I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.

—————————

Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.

The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.

Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.

“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.

“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”

I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”

“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”

“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.

“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”

“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.

“Yeah him too.”

Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.

I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Alright then. Princess.”

“Y/n.” I corrected him

“Princess Y/n.”

I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.

“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”

“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”

I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.

“Not a chance.”

“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”

“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.

“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”

Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.

“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.

He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.

One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.

At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.

“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.

“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.

“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”

I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.

“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”

“I can for you.”

Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.

He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.

“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”

“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.

Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.

“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.

Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.

At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.

I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”

“Shut up.” I mouthed back.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.

I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.

Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.

[darthlenaplant]

I just watched The Double Clue and BROTHER AM I ANGRY AT POIROT.

Ngl. Like. No wonder he (Hastings) left you.

I mean. It's prefect for angsty drama fanfic, if anything lol

[dontheckinswear]

reading modern mdzs fics set in the usa (not including ones that are firmly set in a chinese american bubble) is fucking wild. what do you mean i’m reading about lan wangji and wei wuxian and their friend, skateboarding kyle.???

[asexualbookbird]

Immediately forgets everything that happened in June. Uh. I threw a tea party! Finished a knit hat! Did one (1) queer corvid piece! Started playing baldurs gate! Read some good books! SAW SOME SANDHILL CRANES!!!! Found new enrichment in the form of a new walking route! A busy busy month! Didn't read as much as I intended, but I did get to check off five more books on my Reading Books I Own chart so I call that a win.

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakranorty ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- WHAT A FUN BOOK! "Adventure" is the perfect word for this. Yes, it's a trilogy with only one book out, but this also works so well on its own, as individual books SHOULD! It's its own little thing. Wrapped up neat and tidy with little threads to pick up in the future. I had so much fun and the audiobook was a DELIGHT, I want to read it again immediately.

The Novice by Taran Matharu ⭐- This has been sitting on my shelf since its release. It moved homes with me. It will not be doing so again. Bland, generic, poorly written. Proof just because you were an internet success, doesn't mean you don't need an editor. Also proof that publishing is about Luck and Connections. I know goodreads ratings mean Nothing, but come on. Why is this one so high. Did people really enjoy it that much? HOW??

Translation State by Ann Leckie ⭐⭐⭐⭐- Okay. Look. This was not my favorite Leckie novel. In fact it very well could by me least favorite Leckie novel. HOWEVER. Even then, it was still fun and enjoyable. I wish it ended differently, but I still loved all the characters and how they interact. I do want to reread this as well, because I remember enjoying Ancillary Justice more the second time around and I wonder if the same will happen here.

What Moves The Dead by T Kingfisher ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ - A reread! To get ready for What Feasts At Night! Even knowing all the secrets, it's still a perfectly bite sized creepy read. My favorite thing about Kingfishers writing is how even with the darkest subjects she still manages to add humor. And it never seems out of place! It's a great breather for the reader but doesn't detract from the tension. Do not recommend reading this while walking through a field of bunnies.

What Feasts At Night by T Kingfisher ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I gave What Moves The Dead four stars at my initial read through, so I wonder if this will ALSO change to five stars upon rereading. I had to read the first few chapters twice for them to stick, and ended up switching to the audiobook which was very well done. I really didn't expect another book about Alex Easton, but I'm hooked now to be honest. I mean, stop putting this soldier in Situations, but also. I want to know what other Situations ka gets into. Angus and Miss Potter are adorable.

The library has a few summer reading games with prizes so my reading in the upcoming months will be influenced by those. Someone said there might even be a local bookstore gift package in the mix and I Want That. I do still want to do the Bone Season updated read, if for no other reason than to get rid of those books so I don't have to pack and move them. Other than that, no reading plans. I've read nearly every book that's on the shelf in my bedroom, which, wow, so it's getting harder to choose what to read. I guess that's a good thing! Leaves more room to reread old favorites.

[doom-dreaming]

okay i'm still very awake so you're all gonna have to deal with me red-stringing about character bullshit until i fall asleep. i Know i'm making a big post about this but i don't care

why. this is the first instance of mark being designated as the one in charge when a higher-up (fred, in this case) isn't present. but why. they were only trapped in the slipspace fuckeryzone for a few days relative to normal space-time and i don't think anything drastic happens (with these guys) in glasslands? at least according to the wiki it doesn't. why did being integrated into blue team suddenly disrupt team saber's former command structure?

did they plan to kill mark off at the very start of this? was this all a long game to give mark enough of a foothold as an Important Character to make his death have more impact? does troy denning just like him more? how much weight did his personal preferences even play in this? why do the gammas suddenly start bantering when they're in danger and alone with a woman they just met? why do mark and ash seem to switch personalities every other chapter? why is this worse than i remember it being when i first read it a few months ago?

[breitzbachbea]

The more I learn, the worse Fernando gets.

[emily-mooon]

I’m writing the jancy rear window au for one of the days of jancy week

[chemicalarospec]

libraries are the best places in the whole wide world!!!

[the-busy-ghost]

Warning- this is a very petty post, but I think I'm entitled to at least one petty, pissed-off reaction every time I finish a classic novel that hit harder than I expected so take this as my quota for the year.

Also spoiler warning for a book that came out over a century ago but still, I didn't know the plot going in so don't want to ruin it for anyone else, if you haven't read it shut your eyes. (Also Local Tumblr User Going Wild Over Book Published a Hundred Years Ago That Everybody Else Already Read should probably be categorised as akey part of indigenous tumblr culture at this point).

Anyway I just finished the War of the Worlds and in between studying I've thinking about Themes and Motifs as you do, and idly looking for further analysis. I then accidentally ran into an article called 'A Quiet Place II Succeeds Where the War of the Worlds Failed' and:

Now I haven't seen any of the Quiet Place films, this is not a rant against them and of course everyone is entitled to their own opinions. But re: the ending of The War of the Worlds, I have to ask, did this guy somehow miss, uh, the entire point of the book or am I just utterly insane?

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[rumor-weed]

i’m sorry VOTER FRAUD?

IN MY VEGGIETALES?

it’s more likely than you’d think...

[izzy-b-hands]

Didn't think the 1989 version of The Woman In Black would be scarier than the one with Dan Radcliffe in it

I was Wrong flkjdsafkldsja, but I'm delighted to have been wrong. I had missed getting scared with more practical effects/careful timing of things in the background of shots appearing and disappearing, and this one scratches that itch well.