#implied the maid x male character | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ isohel

i·so·hel (noun) a line on a map connecting points having the same duration of sunshine

pairing. hong joshua x reader

description. fairytales can be rather misleading, can't they? when you and your mother are ripped away from your life at the castle, you spend over a decade resenting the royalty. so naturally, when you find prince joshua at your doorstep, you’re more than eager to shut the door on him. but as your life takes twists and turns, you happen to find yourself in the arms of a man you never thought you'd have to see again.

genre. slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff

tags. prince!joshua, developing relationships, slut shaming, allusions / references to greek mythology, dialogue heavy, implied se

fic playlist

w/c. 26.2k

a/n. lwk don't like the beginning but i swear it gets better🙄 thank u @cheolhub for beta reading & @jeonghantis & @gyuswhore for reading it over and helping out w this bc i think i was going insane over this story by myself >_<; ... i highly suggest listening to the song isohel by eden! it was a major inspiration for this whole story and i think it encapsulates the vibes really well c: hope u enjoy!

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears.

It’s common in the sweltering heat of the summer when the air is hot and sticky. Maids running around to tend to the evenings balls and parties only for the sweat to breach their fingers and suddenly their stack of fine china goes tumbling to the ground.

A bed of hyacinths sits in front of you as you bring up the hose and spray them down, watching through the tinted glass as two male helpers rush to the woman on the ground, quickly helping her clean up the shards of glass.

Turning your attention back to the plants in front of you, you turn the hose off and roll it back into the corner as you skip to the end of the greenhouse where there’s your mother’s desk space. It’s a measly little space but she hardly sits there anyways, always tending to the gardens in the courtyards, leaving the floral and herbal greenhouses under your care while she’s away.

After all, your mother is a gardener and botanist in the Hong palace, and having been a trusted employee for the past half decade since your father passed, she exudes the little privileges of getting to bring her daughter to work.

At least that’s what you think, because you’re only nine years old and naive.

She teaches you well—you’ve only been accompanying her on the weekends when you don’t have school, but you’ve already picked up on how to tell the differences between an infected plant and an unaffected one, the characteristics of a good caterpillar and the characteristics of a bad one, the exact amount you should water each species, and exactly when you should let the vapor run down.

It’s easy work, and you love it.

You love sitting at your mother’s desk and imagining what it’d be like to be her—successful and working in the castle, doing what you love instead of working some stupid nine to five. You love looking out the glass of the greenhouses every few moments when you pause reading your book. You love the rare moments when you get to lay your eyes on one of the members of the royal family walking by.

You’ve started to pick up on their characters in the small frame of time you get to see them when they pass by. The Queen has kind eyes, the King is a bit intimidating, and Prince Joshua … Prince Joshua has soft features you can’t quite read.

“He’s only a year older than you!” one of your friends from school said when you told her that you stayed at the castle during the weekends to help your mother. “You should marry him and become princess!”

You had to push her away and watch her disappointed eyes when you told her that you hardly get to see him for more than ten seconds, even on the rare occasions that he crosses your vision.

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears, but hearing it more than twice in one hour does have some alarms ringing in your head. When you glance back up at the window, time stops.

Your mother is on the ground. Limbs sprawled out with eyes wide in horror, she scrambles against the rough stone path as a man looms over her. He dons a deep purple robe—the kind that belongs to the advisors of the Court—and your young mind races through the possibilities of what warrants the disgusted look on his face.

“Sneaking around with royal blood. Who do you think you are?”

A man watches, dark and brooding from the corner, and then you recognize him. Advisor Lee. He stops by the greenhouses sometimes—a high advisor of the Counsel and distance relative of the King’s. You’re nine years old and naive, but you are not dense.

Something had happened between your mother and Advisor Lee. Something tells you it’s more than you can understand, but in this moment, you feel you understand perfectly.

“You whore,” the man in the dark robes spits out, punctuating his disgust with a stomp of his feet right by your mother’s leg.

You’re only nine years old, but that is old enough to know that that is not a nice word. Nine years old, and you know that that means a very bad thing. Nine years old and when you look at your mother’s grief stricken face, you are certain that everything is about to change.

Your house was always on the edge of the town. Before the affair between Advisor Lee and your mother, it was because she liked having the space to open a garden in your backyard. The city is crowded and full of bustling roads and buildings—it’s no fit for the small cottage that she wanted.

Now, after the affair, your house is on the edge of the town for a different reason.

The first day after your mother is fired from her position at the castle, you go to school with your head hanging low. It’s in the city, and for the first time in your five years of schooling, your mother tells you to go alone.

“I can’t—I shouldn’t drive you anymore,” she tells you as you pack your backpack. She walks you to the bus station and hands you a paper telling you which stop to get off at and how to walk to school from there.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you two walk up to the little stop by the street, but when you approach the small crowd of people waiting for the next bus to come in, their chatter hushes. Sparing glances at you and your mother, they whisper—some hushed, some blatant, some sad, some angry.

That’s where she stops and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. “You can take it from here, yeah?” she asks, but you know it’s not really a question. Nodding, you slowly walk towards the crowd of people as the next bus parks in front of the stop.

You don’t turn around and look at your mother because you know that’d be a mistake. Instead, you let your neck droop, following the quiet crowd as they pile into the bus, clutching the strings of your backpack.

There aren’t any places to sit, so you reach for a pole but suddenly the bus starts and you lurch forward, falling to the ground. There’s black and brown dust on the palms of your hand as you push yourself up, no one saying a word or bothering to help as you keep your head down and grip onto a pole.

The knees of your stockings are dirtied, and it’s the only thing you look at the whole ride, it’s the only thing you look at when you silently take the walk to school, and it’s the only thing you look at when you make your way onto campus.

It’s the whispers again, and as you quietly sink into your normal seat, you hear them louder.

Did you hear about her mother? She isn’t allowed in the castle grounds anymore. What did her mother do? I can’t believe she showed up, I’d be crying at home. I wonder what she’s thinking—

Nothing. You think nothing when your teacher announces that class will be starting. All you focus on is the board and your notebook. You spend your recess and lunch at the school’s library, and as soon as the final bell rings, you scurry off campus and towards the bus station.

It isn’t like the morning—people don’t hush and stare, but nine years old is smart enough to know that it’s because they don’t know you’re your mother’s daughter. There aren’t any empty seats just like the morning but this time, a nice gentleman offers you his spot.

You can tell he isn’t so sure of his decision though, when you finally get off at your stop and you run off to your mother who’s waiting for you by the bench. From the corner of your vision, you watch the man through the bus window, jaw tight and gaze cold as he watches you slip your hand into your mother’s.

Your mother doesn’t talk on the short walk home. She doesn’t ask you about school and she doesn’t ask you about what the other kids said. You figure that she doesn’t need to hear it anyways, and so you purse your lips together.

You have a lot to get used to.

Your life doesn’t change much, and you get used to it.

School days are spent with your head buried in a new book with every break you have. Your time at home is nothing but studying and your mother teaching you how to tend to the garden in your yard.

Soon you are graduating and moving on with your life as you make the transition to college, although you can’t say much changes. You study, you read, and occasionally you commission a project. It’s usually just renovating a citizen’s yard, sometimes it’s designing a public garden, but it’s never anything too serious.

Right now, you’re perched on a wooden stool, elbows leaning on the counter as you swipe your thumb over your tongue to flip the next page of your book. The paper is worn through, soft under your touch as a show for all it’s been through—bought second hand from your boss.

Your boss is a kind old man who happened to be a friend of your late grandfather’s, and when his little bookstore was teetering on the edge of being forgotten, you couldn’t refuse the offer to step in to work.

You’re around halfway through the book when you hear the familiar ringing of the bell above the door, head snapping up only to see your boss at the front door with a few envelopes in one hand, a plastic bag in the other.

“Holding up the fort, I see,” he greets with a low chuckle as you stand up and walk over, taking the bag from his hand to help out.

“As always, Mr. Min,” you reply, setting the bag of books down on the counter. “Are these—”

“They’re your mothers. I was walking by your house this morning and she asked me to take these and add them to our stock, since she said she doesn’t need them anymore.”

“Huh,” you say softly, taking out the various books about plants. “Not sure how big the market for gardening books is anymore, but I’m sure I can add it to our catalog after hours today,” you mutter, setting them on the table behind the register as he places the letters in his hand.

“Your mother also told me to give you this,” he says, his tone an octave lower as he plucks out one the envelopes and hands it to you. You knit your eyebrows together, wiping your dusty hands down on your pants before taking a look at it. “It’s from—”

“The castle,” you whisper, holding the envelope closer to your face to make sure you’re seeing it correctly. “Oh my god—it’s from the castle.”

“Yeah. Must be important if your mom felt the need to send it through me instead of just waiting for you to come home and take a look at it.”

“A-are you sure this is meant for me?” you manage to ask, flipping the envelope over a few times to make sure you read your name correctly.

“Yup,” Mr. Min replies, pointing down at where the intended recipient is listed. Sure enough, it’s your name listed in dark and bold ink in one corner, and then there’s that stupid royal emblem of the sun in the other corner.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at the possibilities of what could be inside, raking your mind for an answer. Was something wrong? Was it about your mother? Or was this just some big mistake?

Dear Madam,

The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.

Your reputation with your mother’s work as well as the operation of your own gardens throughout the city, along with your academic achievements at our very own Hong University have reached our ears, and we believe you possess the skills required for a special project we have in mind.

You will have the opportunity to lead this project as you please and earn a notable financial sum in payment for your efforts.

Please indicate your acceptance by replying to this letter at your earliest convenience. We eagerly await your response and sincerely hope that you will be able to grace our kingdom with your talent and presence.

Thank you,

Hong Royal Counsel

You don’t have to read the letter more than once before you scoff, tossing the crisp paper and letting it drift down onto the counter before muttering under your breath, “Who do they think they are?” Crumpling the envelope and letter up, you throw it down into the trash can by your chair.

Knocks on your door aren’t normal. The delivery and mailmen know better than to do that, leaving your packages and mail by the doorstep and doing no more than that.

Knocks on your door usually mean Mr. Min is here for something—picking up some of the veggies your mother grew because the store prices are too high, dropping off a book, or indulging in some pleasantries and casual small talk.

It’s eight in the morning when you hear the soft rapping against your front door. Your mom is in the kitchen and your room, right next to the foyer, has walls thin enough to let the sounds through. You’re on your bed though, and it’s comfortable, warm, and it’s too early to be out and about anyways. You’ve just spent the past nine months laboring away at college, so you’re granting yourself these few moments of peace in the morning.

Pressing your head into the pillow, you try to drown out the noise of your mother conversing with Mr. Min this early in the morning. After you hear the door open, there’s a silence and for a moment, you think you’ve succeeded in plugging your ears well enough.

You’re about to smile to yourself and drift back into a heavy sleep before you hear a loud gasp.

It takes a lot to surprise your mother—you’ve come to learn that in recent years. It takes a lot to stun her, to have her gasp as you just heard. Scurrying out of bed, you press your ear against the wall in hopes to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

All you hear is silence.

It hardly takes a second for you to shove off your blankets and throw yourself into the hallway, rushing towards the foyer where you see your mother standing in front of the open door. She stays unmoving and you wince for a few moments, eyes still adjusting to the morning light as you make your way closer to the door to see what exactly has her so shocked.

And then you catch it: a glint of that wretched, golden sun emblem stitched onto a purple velvet coat.

“What the f—”

Your mother’s hand flies up and grabs your wrist tightly. It’s the first time you see her move, and as she turns around to face you with dark, warning eyes, you press your lips shut as you glance over her shoulder. In front of your doorstep is a man you never thought you’d get to see in person again, not after that day.

Prince Joshua is just as handsome as the tabloids and social media make him out to be, and his presence in your life also seems to be equally infuriating.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss, pulling your mother closer to you so she’s close enough to hear you.

Her eyes are somber, and you silently wonder how she can be so calm, so docile, so—so tame. “They’re here for you,” she whispers, turning her whole body so her back faces the prince.

“What are you talking about? Why would—”

“The letter sent to you from the kingdom. I thought you told me it was a mistake.”

“It was,” you mutter, eyes glancing at Prince Joshua behind her. His gaze is averted, presumably out of respect for the conversation you’re having with your mother right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to appreciate him for it.

“Then why is he asking for your name?”

You gulp anxiously, eyes flickering between your mother’s eyes and the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to him. It must be important,” she orders, walking forward and toward the kitchen and you grab her shoulder quickly.

“Are you kidding me? Why—why would I talk to him? Why would I talk to any of them?” you argue louder than you intended, and your mother swats your hand away sharply.

“They’re royalty,” she says, voice strained with caution.

“And? It’s not medieval times where they actually rule over us so—”

Your mother sighs heavily and then it hits you that no matter how much logic you try to expend, it’d be futile. “Talk to him. It isn’t quite like you have a choice.”

“You of all people shouldn’t put up with this,” you state and the second the words leave your lips, you regret it. Her face hardens and there’s a cold feeling that sinks in your stomach as she frees herself of your grasp and marches away.

You’re left watching her back fade into the rest of your house as your eyes are wide and you’re becoming increasingly aware of the presence of another person behind you. A person who is very important and very famous and very much a representation of all the things you loathe.

Turning on your heel, you don’t bother to push your lips up into a morning grin facing Prince Joshua with tired eyes and frown etched into your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you glance back at your mother who is in a far off room, deciding that whatever he needs to say to you, she doesn’t need to hear.

Slipping on some slippers, you quickly walk out of the house and close the door behind you, putting you right in front of Prince Joshua who waits for you with bright eyes.

“Hi,” he greets, voice airy and light as he takes a few steps back so he can bow, of which you begrudgingly return. “Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, I was just taking care of some work in the area and was told to stop by and talk to you about something.”

He sounds sincere, and his lips curve into a pleasant expression when he speaks, and you wonder if he’s plain stupid playing dumb to save you the humiliation of the situation—a royal prince speaking to the daughter of ‘a slut who seduced the royal advisor.’

So unable to decipher anything about his true intentions, you ask bluntly, “Is it about the letter I got from the kingdom two weeks ago?”

Prince Joshua chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and you catch the fancy white fabric of his buttoned up shirt underneath the coat. “I mean, yes it is and—”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why do you guys even bother sending letters? It’s the 21st century, you know? Emails exist.”

His face reddens, looking away before pursing his lips together. “Some things are just kept out of tradition,” Prince Joshua reasons quickly. “But I totally understand that, we’ll keep emailing in mind. But for the meantime, that’s, uh, kind of what I’m here for. We didn’t hear back a response, and I would like to take your answer back to the castle for you.

“Isn’t no response enough of a response?”

“Well—”

“My answer is no, if that wasn’t obvious,” you say, turning back to the door. “Is that all?”

“Wait!” he exclaims, grabbing your arm with his white leather gloves. It’s a bit surprising, really—he seems awfully timid for a prince and you’re a bit unnerved by how he hasn’t reprimanded you yet for being disrespectful. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to take on the job? If there are some specifics, maybe we can adjust the arrangement so it’s more to your liking.”

Your eyes widen, bewildered. “What? No I—I don’t care for anything like that, I won’t take the job.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” he mutters under his breath before his eyebrows knit together as he looks at the ground, seemingly trying to figure something out. “Is it the money? We can negotiate your salary,” he offers and you shake your head.

“No, it’s not the money—I don’t care about the money,” you say harshly. “It’s not any of that, I just don’t want to.”

“Can you tell me why? It’s just, I’ll have to report this back to the Counsel and if I’m not able to recruit you, they’d at least want some reasoning for why.”

Inhaling sharply, it takes all your self control to not let your eye twitch and slam the door in his face. “Are you really asking me why I don’t want to?” Pursing your lips together, you glare at him harshly. “You were there that day, weren’t you?” you ask more quietly, and for a moment you see Prince Joshua falter. “Not that I’d expect you to care but surely you can at least understand why I don’t want to.”

“I-I’m sorry, but I really can’t change the past.”

Scoffing, you turn on your heel and open the door. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Wait—just wait a sec’!” he calls out, stopping the door with his palm before you close it. “You’re in your second year at Hong University, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “We’ll pay for the rest of your tuition.”

The air in your lungs seems stuck for a passing moment, and you shake your head to yourself, stepping into your house and turning around one last time with cold eyes and a deep frown. “No.”

The prince looks around hastily before blurting out, “We’ll do all of it!”

“All of what?”

“We’ll pay for all of your tuition—reimburse you for what you’ve already paid.” You don’t care. You shouldn’t care. “All of it, plus your hourly wage,” he adds, and you don’t even have a chance to think before you feel your mother’s hand on your back.

“She’ll do it.”

Your mother chuckles as she helps you tie the lavender colored robe around your waist. You’re not sure what she finds so funny about this, but you bite your tongue when you start to catch on how she ties the ribbons with such ease.

Over ten years of being away from the castle can’t erase the time she spent there, tying her own robe every morning before she was stripped of her title, and in turn, also the life she worked so hard to build up.

As you look down at the smooth fabric sent to you a week earlier from the castle, you’re forced to begrudgingly admire the intricate embroidery. The collar and ribbons are decorated with a darker purple stitching that runs in all sorts of twists and turns and swivels around the curves of your body.

“They’ve made them look nicer since I’ve last seen them,” she thinks out loud, matting her hands down your shoulders to smooth the fabric down one last time before taking a look.

“I don’t understand why you’re still so—” You inhale sharply and press your lips together, warning yourself to not say anything more when she shoots you a cautionary look. “Sorry,” you mutter, turning away so you can glance at yourself in the mirror. You do look pretty nice, if you had to admit.

“Just think about the money,” your mother encourages. “They’re covering the cost of all your schooling—all those days spent at Mr. Min’s can now go towards things you enjoy, rather than paying for your university.”

“I guess,” you grumble, adjusting your hair one last time before grabbing your phone and keys, walking towards the foyer.

“You know the way right?” your mother calls out as you slip on your shoes and walk out onto the front porch.

“I wish I didn’t,” is all you say, low and under your breath as you make your way to the car.

The castle lies in the heart of the city, so it’s quite the drive. You’re careful as you try to keep your robes clean, bunching it up to your thighs as you drive, and once you’ve made your way to the castle, you’re sure to make sure the hem of the bottom doesn’t hit the ground.

Reporting to the entrance that was given in your email (why they send emails for instructions but not the actual invitation to your job still remains a mystery to you), you carefully tuck your phone into a crevice of your robes.

The entrance starts at a gate on the east end of the castle, and you make your way to the little hut that sits at one end where a woman in a lavender polo and dress pants sits at a desk. Knocking on the window, you smile nervously as she looks up from her papers.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” you say, holding up your phone and pointing to your first day instructions. “It’s my first day here, and I’m not sure how to get inside and all.”

“Did they give you a code?”

“Uh, yeah let me check again,” you murmur, looking back at your phone to find the 5 digit code you were sent. “It’s, uh—32423.” The lady hums and nods, checking something on her computer before looking up at you with a smile.

“That’s correct. From now on you can just come through the smaller gate on the side—it should be to the left of this big gate, and just put in whatever code you have. It changes every few days but you’ll be notified with the new password every time it does.”

“Thank you,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to look at the gate she’s talking about.

“For now, just follow me. Since it’s your first day, I’ll show you the way to the … where was it you need to get to?”

“Right here it says the Advisory Quart?”

The girl’s eyes widen as she sits up from her seat and walks out of the hut, leading you toward the smaller gate. “Seriously?” she asks as she punches in the code, the gate automatically opening once she’s done.

The gate leads to a narrow pathway that runs slightly uphill in the midst of a lush field of trimmed green grass and sparse flowers that was previously hidden from you by the large stone halls. You remember the scene vaguely, but it’s a lot lovelier in person than you remember. Glancing up the pathway, you catch sight of the large castle in front of you, and the vision has an uneasy feeling floating in your stomach.

“Uh yeah, is that surprising?” you respond, hoping the small talk will distract you, even if it’s only a little.

“I mean the Advisory Quart is no joke. Those people work like crazy dogs—” she says with a laugh before looking at you with wide eyes. “Wait, I’m sorry—please don’t tell anyone I said that, they’ll—”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. But please do continue—what were you saying? I haven’t been in that castle in a long—I’ve never been to the castle before, so I’m not up to speed with all the different Quarts and sectors and stuff.”

“Oh well, it’s just that the Advisory Quart does a lot of work … I swear they’re always running around, talking about some new project they’re working on,” she says as you follow her up some steps, nearing an entrance to a building connected to the castle.

“What kind of projects?” you ask curiously.

“Oh gosh, everything, I tell you, they do pretty much everything. From helping the King with his own decisions to doing absolutely random, huge projects, there always seems to be someone who’s on top of everything. I remember I had a friend whose husband worked up there—they were working on designing a whole new ballroom and no one had any idea why! So what are you going to be doing there?”

Chuckling nervously, you aren’t sure if you should tell this girl that you don’t really know. “One of those random projects, I assure you,” you tell her because you’re pretty sure it’s true. After all, you’re almost positive they won’t have you be doing anything that’s worthwhile.

“Ah, well you’ll probably be swamped either way,” the girl says with a sigh as you reach a large wooden door. “Anyways, we’ll part ways here. Just go through these doors and there’ll be a big hallway. Ignore all the different corridors and doors on the side, and just go straight and you can see there’s an open room at the end of this hallway. That’s where your check-in will be, and the people there will direct you to wherever you need to go.”

You blink a few times, taking in all the information before nodding meekly, bowing and thanking the girl for her time as she walks away. Taking a deep breath, you open the door with a loud creaking noise, stepping into the grand hallway.

The walls are beige with ornate accents lining the bottom and top, intricate designs carved into the ceilings that hang chandeliers in intervals. Your sandals clack against smooth travertine marble as your eyes roam the entrances to different corridors and rooms, doors dark and wooden, similar to the one you just entered through.

There aren’t many people in the long hallways, passing by only a few others who seem to have their attention busied by papers or their phone. Some of them are wearing similar fashioned robes to yours, while most of the others are wearing the same lavender colored polo and white slacks as the girl who brought you here.

Smoothing the fabric below your waist one more time as you near the large open room you were directed to, you glance around and find a desk with a kind looking receptionist talking to a man wearing your kind of robes.

Quietly approaching the desk, you stand a few feet behind him, patiently waiting for them to finish so you can step up. Neither of them seem to notice, being caught up in a conversation that seems a bit of a mix of professional and leisurely.

Twiddling with your fingers behind your back, you rock side to side on your feet as you wait for the two to finish up talking about how they’re excited for the next ball that’s coming up, not bothering to think about who these people might be and why they’re even invited to it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man at the counter calls out, “I can help you.” He smiles and waves you over before nudging the other man on his shoulder. “Seokmin, go—you’re distracting me.”

The man he pushed is a handsome looking guy, light brown hair falling just above his eyes as he turns around and gives a small smile, stepping to the side but not fully backing away. “Ah, sorry about that. Go ahead, we were just catching up.”

“No worries,” you say quickly, walking up to the receptionist. “I’m here to find the Advisory Quart I think? I was told to report to this entrance, and the lady at the front told me to come here—it’s my first time here so—”

“Your first time in the castle?” the other man asks you with wide eyes.

“Uh, well—”

“Don’t mind him—Seokmin, you know better than to mess with the newbies,” the receptionist murmurs, and you frown at the word. He catches on and looks up at you, holding a hand out. “No offense.”

“N-none taken. So could you help me—I’m really not sure where to go.”

“Yeah of course. Does your email say who you’ll be reporting to?”

“It says here ‘Mr. Park.’”

“Oh okay, his room number’s going to be 77, right down that corridor right there,” the receptionist tells you kindly, pointing at one of the side hallways you saw while walking here. “Since it’s your first day, I’ll let him know that you’ll be coming down so he can be ready. I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Thank you so much,” you say bowing, quickly telling him your name. So caught up in the kindness of these peers, you almost forgot why you were so reluctant to come here in the first place, but no worries, this receptionist does a good job of reminding you.

His lips press into a thin line as raises a brow, asking you to repeat your last name again. When your answer slips from your lips, it’s much quieter. A heavy cloud sinks over you as you realize that even after years away, your family name is still tainted.

“Okay,” the receptionist finally says briskly, and you’re taken aback by how cold his voice has become. “I’ll let him know you’re coming down. You can proceed now.”

He doesn’t give you a ‘good luck,’ or a ‘have a nice day,’ or a ‘do you have any questions,’ despite his cheery attitude from before. Now he’s looking at you with an expressionless face and eyes that won’t meet yours as you shamefully turn away.

So caught up in the disappointment, you hardly notice how the other man—Seokmin—is still watching the scene unfold. As you walk away from the open room, there’s a hand on your wrist. Whipping around, you’re faced with a Seokmin whose face seems unreadable, just like the receptionists. Except something is … different. He seems sincere, and you feel safe.

“You might get lost trying to get there,” Seokmin says rather casually, letting go of your hand and walking next to you. “Come on, I’ll show you the way—I’m working under Mr. Park too actually, I’m his intern—so I know the way pretty well and can fill you in on what he’s like.”

You wonder why Seokmin isn’t acting like the receptionist. Your family name is still somewhat taboo in the city outside the castle, so you were pretty confident when walking into the actual place of the ‘crime scene’ that you’d be even more … generally disliked.

Seokmin seems to be different though, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Seokmin lets you know Mr. Park is mean when he wants, which seems to be always. Direct with his words but also, you have to read in between the lines sometimes if you don’t want to get scolded. You’re not sure what to do with that information, because Seokmin doesn’t tell you much else.

You walk down the corridor with him before stopping in front of a wooden door to your right, labeled with that familiar sun emblem and a golden plated plaque reading ‘77.’ “C’mon, he should be in here right now,” Seokmin says, pressing against the frame and pushing the door open.

Inside is a room unlike the others you’ve seen before. The ceiling is much lower and baskets of plants hang from it, vines lining the limestone walls, and pots and beds of plants sit by the smaller desks that litter the area. There’s a larger desk at the end opposite to the door, and you see a man with grey hair and firm eyes sitting at the ornate chair, reading through a stack of papers.

“Ah, Seokmin,” he says, standing up when he notices the two of you by the door, and it’s not you realize that this man is Mr. Park. Both you and Seokmin bow hastily. “I was waiting for the two of you to arrive.” His gaze then turns to you, and it’s sharp. “What took you so long?” His tone is harsh and you almost wince. “It isn’t your first time in the castle,” Mr. Park says bluntly, and for once you are taken aback because no one has addressed the cloud hanging over your head so directly yet.

“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been here in—”

“No excuses. Don’t be late again.”

“Y-yes sir,” you reply meekly, faltering in your step a little.

Mr. Park sighs heavily and looks at Seokmin, waving him off. “Go to the Ballroom and ask around to see if they need anything for tonight. Don’t be slow like last time.”

“Yes sir! Right on it,” Seokmin says with a nod, quickly turning on his heel and scurrying out of the room.

“And for you …” Mr. Park mutters as he takes in your figure with an unnerving look on his face. “I need you to lead a project.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “Lead a project? I don’t even know what—”

“Word has it that the Prince himself had to bribe you with a whole four years of Hong tuition to get you here. Surely you didn’t think you’d be given light work.” people knew about that?

“Well, I didn’t know much about anything and I don’t even know what work I’m supposed—”

“You’ll figure it out, soon enough,” Mr. Park tells you briskly, walking over to his desk where a large chalkboard sits to its left. Using a stick, he points at a word written in a corner. Garden. “The Queen has a courtyard that she no longer likes the look of. It’s been stripped down, and you’re in charge of turning it into a garden of her liking.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “A-a whole courtyard?”

Mr. Park raises a brow. “Are you saying that it’s too much for you?”

“N-no!” you exclaim quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I don’t get why I would be chosen to do this.”

Mr. Park huffs, and you wonder how such a tiny old man can fit so much sass in him. “If you must know: the Queen loved how your …” he pauses and within a fraction of a second you have a feeling where this is going, “… your mother designed the gardens on the West end.”

Mr. Park walks towards his desk and sits down, not looking at you as he cards through a few binders. “The Queen wants a similar style for this courtyard but since we can’t exactly have her back …”

You wince for real this time as you conclude, “… you tried to get the next closest thing.”

Mr. Park nods, not returning a snarky comment this time, much to your pleasure. “I’m the head of Design & Architecture, by the way, if you have any questions ask me—as long as it’s not stupid. You lead your project—design it and plan it. When you need people to work on it just talk to Seokmin and he’ll assign someone. You have three months to finish it. If you need an extension, you’ll have to get it approved by me.”

“Okay,” you respond quickly, trying to take in all the information at once. “Is there, like, a theme? Anything she wants in particular?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Mr. Park says bluntly and you frown as he points at a desk behind you. “Your desk is there. Any information you need will be there.”

“Y-yes sir, thank you,” you say, bowing and turning on your heel to sit down at your new chair. The desk is dark, wooden, and completely barren except for a thin folder set in the middle. Opening it, there’s a single paper inside with only a few bullet points typed out, and it hardly takes you a moment to read through all of it.

It’s vague—your only real requirements are the adherence to the kingdom’s symbolic purple colors, and inclusion of a general theme throughout the courtyard.

You furrow your eyebrows at the lack of guidance—were you really left to make such major decisions about such a large space in a castle you haven’t been in years? There’s so much room for error and disappointment and rejection, and after the past years of being treated like your family was nothing but a mistake, you aren’t sure if you can handle any more of it.

Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly nod to yourself in a silent promise. Closing the folder, you stand up. “Mr. Park, sir, do you know where the courtyard—”

“There is a map on the wall. Figure it out.”

You huff, glancing at the large map of the castle next to the chalkboard. This is going to be harder than you thought.

You run into Seokmin just as you leave 77, and he helps lead you to the courtyard. “So you’re working on this one, huh,” he says under his breath as you both appear in front of a large plot of land surrounded by castle buildings on all sides. You’re both standing on the East entrance to the courtyard, and there are four adjacent and opposite entrances on all other sides.

“Uh, yeah,” you say steadily, glancing back down at your minimal instructions before looking back up at the courtyard. It’s a square, and if you had to estimate, each side would be around 50 yards long, leaving quite a great deal of space for you to work with it.

“Pretty big project, huh,” Seokmin says, although his tone seems much more lighthearted than your mood. How the hell are you supposed to transform this in three months?

“Yeah,” you mutter, squinting at the bright sunlight as you analyze the plot.

“You know, I can totally help if you want,” Seokmin begins to say, and you take note of how quickly he talks. “I don’t know if Mr. Park told you but you can basically ask me for help on anything and like, I’m really doing this whole interning thing for fun—” Who the hell works as an intern for Mr. Park, for fun? “—so I’d be happy to help.”

“Thanks. I’ll ask if I need anything.”

“Great!” Seokmin cheers, clapping his hands together before looking behind your shoulder and letting his smile brighten. He waves at someone behind you and you purse your lips together, wondering if you should brace yourself for yet another salty interaction.

“Minnie!” a deep voice greets and suddenly, your feet seem glued in their spot. You know that voice.

“Shua, hey!” Seokmin says cheerily, and you silently cringe. “Crazy running into you here, gosh, I haven’t seen you since last week!”

Prince Joshua laughs, and it reminds you of all those years ago when you watched him from inside the greenhouse. You hate how you remember.

“Yeah, my fencing instructor let me off earlier so I thought I might browse around the castle for a bit,” he explains, and when it all goes quiet and you realize that he must be looking at you, but you don’t dare to turn around.

“Oh,” Seokmin exclaims, as if he’s just realized that he forgot something. You feel a tapping on your shoulder, and for a second you debate just running the other way and never letting yourself return to the castle but for something, you’re planted in your place. “Hey, look,” he says quietly in your ear, “It’s the Prince.”

Like you don’t fucking know that. Nodding, you slowly follow his lead and turn around, eyes trained on the ground as you bow.

“Oh, well if it isn’t that little ray of sunshine,” Prince Joshua says, and it takes everything to not let your eye twitch as you finally look up at him. He’s wearing the same royal uniform you say to him when you showed up on his doorstep and his eyes are crinkled as he smiles widely.

Your face burns as Seokmin’s eyes flicker back and forth between you, and your lips are pressed together in an awkward silence. “You know each other?” His face displays nothing but perplexion for a few moments but then it seems that some of the cogs turned and his lips open wide into a large ‘o,’ and Seokmin waves his finger while nodding. “Oh you’re the girl Shua said he had to offer four years worth of—”

“Seokmin,” Prince Joshua interrupts, putting his hand over his friend’s mouth after catching the look of mortification on your face for bringing it up. “Mr. Park was calling you, I’m pretty sure.”

“Ugh, are you kidding me? I thought this would be fun for the summer but he actually has me doing stuff!” As the two converse casually, you wonder how hard it’d be to quickly slip away.

“Not sure what you expected,” Joshua chides his friend before Seokmin groans and you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking away. He calls out your name once and your eyes shoot up as you bashfully wave your hand at him, bidding goodbye.

You’re left in this corridor with the empty thoughts in your head and the goddamn prince of the kingdom. You half expect him to just wave at you and go about his own business, but it seems like you still have a lot of learning to do.

After all, Prince Joshua is a fickle man. “It’s nice to see you again, Sunshine,” he greets, and you think you might pass out from embarrassment. Glancing around, you see a few maids overhear him using the name and murmuring their own whispers amongst themselves as they rush away.

“H-hi,” you say nervously, suddenly aware that much attention is on you now that the prince is speaking to you.

“So this is what you’re working on?” he asks curiously, not paying a single mind to your awkwardness, walking toward the door which leads to the East entrance to the courtyard.

“Yes sir,” you murmur. You could be snappish outside the walls and in the boundaries of your own home but here, you’re bound by royal courtesy and witnesses that surround you. Compliance is all you can manage out in the open.

“Don’t call me sir—you’re around the same age as me, so it feels weird,” Joshua says dismissively, and you furrow your brows at how casual he’s being. “So,” he starts, looking out at the empty yard of dirt, “you got any idea of what you’re going to do with it?”

“Not a clue,” you reply honestly, keeping your answers brisk. Joshua seems to catch on and he pouts at you. How can a man act so childish? The thought lingers in your head for a moment before he starts talking to you.

“So cold. Brighten up Sunshine. I’ll stop in soon to see how it’s going here—I’m interested!” he says cheerily before stepping back and nodding. You bow as he walks away, waving to you one last time before leaving you in the corridor with not a single thought in his mind.

There seems to be a distinct odd air around the prince, except you can’t quite place why that is.

It’s been three weeks since you started working at the castle—time passes quickly when you have loads of work to do and not much time to do it. You spent the first week hunched over at your desk simply raking your mind for ideas, for anything that would give you even a smidge of inspiration.

77 is rather sparse. It’s only really you and Mr. Park actually working in there, with the occasional Seokmin running in and out to tend to everyone’s miniscule needs.

And then there’s Jihoon, who is the only other person who actually works at his desk, even if it’s only for an hour a day. Jihoon is slightly brooding and always has his nose buried in some work, but he seems standoff-ish to just about everyone. He isn’t unkind though, just … just reserved, and you feel thankful that there’s another person somewhat like you here.

77 is kind to you and your heart. Everyone works on their own schedule and is in their own head, and no one seems to treat you extraordinarily different. You wish the same would go for the rest of the castle.

On the second day of your work, the embroidered name on the fabric over your right breast was clear enough for people to start learning who you were and recognize your face.

But you’re used to the stares—both the subtle and obvious ones—and you are used to the whispers, the guessing games about whether or not you’re a slut just like your mother was.

You’re not, by the way, but you’ve had enough experience with these kinds of people to know that they can guess all they want but you know the answer, and the truth will come to light at some point. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, they'll figure it out on their own. Eventually.

By the second week, you figured out a plan and needed to get to work on executing it. Seokmin seemed to be pleased when you asked him for help on that.

“I need people who can build a pathway,” was all you needed to tell him and then he was on the phone, and then the next day you had ten men ready for you by the dirt field ready to work. “I want stone tiles and it needs to curve exactly like this,” you told them, showing them a scaled down map of the area with a long, curvy line running from the North to South ends, and another even more curvy one running from the East to West end.

They didn’t ask questions, which you’re grateful for, because coming up with it was a whole feat on its own. Explaining it would be a whole other story.

As you walk up to the castle’s entrance today, you catch sight of a girl who sits in her little hut in front of the East gate. She’s the same girl who helped you on the first day, you realize. She was kind then, you remember, but now as you meet her gaze, she turns away and pretends to go back to her phone.

You don’t frown or let the gesture sear your heart because in all honesty, that’s exactly what you’re expecting. Sighing, you make your way to the smaller gate and walk the small way up to the actual castle grounds before heading straight to 77.

Jihoon is sitting at his desk but is just about to get up, sending you a quick nod as he stacks his files and walks out of the room. Mr. Park isn’t here, for once, although you did overhear some information about a ball happening tonight so you figure he must be busy.

You’re thankful Seokmin is here, and you catch him watering one of the plants. “Hey, what are you doing?” you ask him hastily, walking up behind his back before grabbing the watering pot from his hands.

“Um … watering … the plants?”

“These are yarrows,” you emphasize, pointing at the white flowers he was just watering.

“Okay … I am really not sure what to do with that information,” Seokmin says slowly as if he isn’t quite processing your words.

Huffing, you tell him, “Yarrows don’t need a lot of water. You aren’t watering them … I think a better word would be drowning.”

“Oh,” Seokmin mutters, looking down at that pot that’s now rich with soaked soil. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know,” he apologizes, and you purse your lips together because he does sound sincere.

“It’s okay … sorry for being mean about it,” you add quietly, returning the pot to his hand. “I can send you a list later—of all the plants here and how much water they need.”

Seokmin’s ears perk up. “Really? Thank you, but you seriously don’t have to, you know.”

“I know, but I enjoy talking about plants and stuff. And I’d rather the ones in this room be taken care of nicely, so the least I can do is help you,” you offer before retreating to your desk. “I think I need your help by the way, so can you come with me?” you ask, pulling out a measuring tape from a drawer.

Seokmin nods, dropping the watering bucket by his own desk and following behind you as you leave the room. The journey from the Advisory Quart to your courtyard, which is located near Royal Residence Quart, is quite the walk, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit pleased that you had someone like Seokmin as company.

“How’s the project turning out?” he asks as you make your way down the long hallways. You catch a few other workers spare the two of you glances and you try to hold your head up and look forward when you respond.

“I’m a little behind,” you admit. “But the construction manager told me that they should be finished with the pathway today, and I asked them to start tilling some other parts of the field so I can get some flora in there soon.”

“Oh really That’s nice—I stopped by the place just the other day and the pathway was looking pretty cool—the color fit in really well.”

“Hm, that’s good … I was worried about that,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully, pulling out your phone so you can glance at the list of things you need to get done before heading back to 77. Tucking the device back into a crevice of your robe, you smile as you near the East end courtyard entrance. “I gotta get a plaque up here or something,” you remind yourself, looking at the empty space above the entrance.

“You want me to get on that soon?” Seokmin offers and you shrug.

“I guess. I’ll still have to come up with a name for this place …” you say, walking into the courtyard.

“Wow,” Seokmin mutters as he follows behind you. “The pathway looks great!” He pats your back and you throw him a small smile when you look over the two twisting paths that connect the 4 ends of the courtyard. “What was it that you needed my help with again—Oh hey! Shua!”

Oh for fuck’s sake—

“Seokminnie!” that familiar, smooth voice appears from behind you as Seokmin turns on his heel and scurries toward his friend. Slowly and carefully, you tuck your hands behind your back and bow when you turn around and are met with the sight of Prince Joshua. “Sunshine,” he greets with a smile after exchanging his casual pleasantries with his friend.

“Good morning sir,” you murmur as Seokmin bounces up and down on feet from a newfound excitement. How does he have this much energy at nine in the morning?

“I thought I said don’t call me sir,” Prince Joshua tells you, scrunching his face up when you let the word slip from your mouth. “Feels weird.”

“I’m sorry but you’re kind of the prince. I don’t think there’s anything else for me to call you other than ‘sir,’” you huff lowly before slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re not scared of what Joshua might do, per se, but the thought of someone else overhearing your snarky remark has you reminding yourself to be more careful.

Joshua only chuckles. Is there anything that bothers him? “You’re funny,” he comments. “You can call me Joshua, like Minne over here,” he tells you, patting Seokmin’s shoulder affectionately.

Your face sours and you shake your head, “I’m sorry that doesn’t feel right.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore what you said and instead looks around the courtyard. “Nice pathway. It’s cool that it isn’t straight—is it supposed to be something?”

“Sort of,” you say, turning around to look at the stone on the ground. “It’s confusing.”

Joshua scoffs. “Try me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Why Prince Joshua—or as he would like you to call him, just Joshua—is so curious about a random courtyard is beyond you. “They’re just lines that follow the movement of sunlight. I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“That’s cool,” Seokmin chimes in when he sees you pulling out a roll of measuring tape. “Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t get to hear what you said you needed help with.”

“Oh yeah, I just want to measure a—”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Joshua says, and you frown when he pulls out a buzzing phone, holding it up to Seokmin’s face. “What did you do this time—why is Mr. Park calling me?”

Seokmin’s eyes widen in panic as you watch the scene unfold. “What?! I haven’t done anything wrong recently. Well I don’t think I did and I’m pretty sure—”

He’s cut off by Joshua pressing his finger over his lip, effectively shutting him up. You almost laugh at the way Seokmin complies so quickly, but hold it back as Joshua holds the phone up to his ear. The sounds that come from the call are muffled but you can vaguely make out the voice of your boss before Joshua sighs and ends the call.

“What are yarrows and what did you do to them?” he asks his friend, and this time you actually do stifle out a giggle. Joshua glances at you as you quickly press your lips back into a fine line, both of you turning your attention back to Seokmin whose ears are turning bright red, shoulders tensing up.

“Oh no—I really don’t want another scolding!” he whines.

“Well buckle up, because he’s asking for you back at 77 right now,” Joshua shrugs as Seokmin huffs, stomping off back into the corridor and presumably back toward the Advisory Quart. “Sorry,” he says, turning to you, “I keep sending your assistant away when you need him.”

“It’s fine,” you say gruffly. “I, uh, I can still do this all by my stuff so it’s not really a big deal.”

Joshua narrows his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t have fencing for another …” He glances down at his star studded wrist watch for a second, “… thirty minutes so I can help out.”

To say you’re mortified by the offer is an understatement. A prince helping out you? He must be fucking with you because—

“Stop giving me weird looks. I know how to help out around here, you know?”

“Duly noted, but I’m not sure how it would look on my end if the prince was helping me out with—” you gesture to the field around you, “—yard work.”

Joshua laughs, and once again you’re left in perplexity. “Weren’t you the one who reminded me that this is the 21st century? I don’t just sit around and do nothing, you know that right?”

“But still,” you mumble.

“Okay fine. If you’re so obsessed with this royal hierarchy thing, then I, as Prince Joshua, am officially requesting you to let me help. Surely you won’t turn that down.”

This man is so weird.

“Fine,” you relent, holding up the measuring tape. “You see that little circle in the middle where the pathways sort of curve around? I need to measure the circumference of it.”

“That’s it?” Joshua asks casually, grabbing one end of the measuring tape as you make your way to the plot. “Oh, I mean I guess it’s kinda big,” he adds, glancing down at the measuring tape. This one only goes up to 15 feet.”

“You’re right,” you mutter to yourself. “Okay here, let’s just use this,” you say, pulling out a roll of thin string and handing one end to Joshua. “If you stand here I’ll just circle it around and measure the length of the string,” you explain, unraveling the roll and walking around the outer edge of the circle, trailing the string behind you.

Joshua just stands in the spot that you placed him, holding the string and frowning. “I feel like I’m not helping much.”

“Trust me,” you reply under your breath. “You’re helping me just enough.” You don’t mean it to come out bitter, but it does anyways.

“What happened to all the royal hierarchy stuff that you were on about?”

Your eyes harden on him as you’ve made it halfway around the length of the circle, pausing to make sure he notices your subtle glare. “If you didn’t know, this is kind of my job on the line, and while you’ve made it clear that what I say doesn’t affect you, I’m not sure the same could be said for what other people see. So I’m sorry if I don’t want people looking at us and getting the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean the wrong idea?”

Huh. And here you thought that with all those royal tutors, the prince would be smart. Too bad for Joshua, but right now, he’s coming off as just about the densest guy alive.

You’ve been working at the castle for five weeks now. Since your last meeting with Joshua (he insists you get rid of the ‘Prince’ and ‘sir’ so diligently now that even in your head, you’ve removed him of those honorifics), you’ve only seen him twice.

The first was three days after he helped you measure the length of your soon to be pond. You were on the phone with a construction contractor in 77 when Joshua popped in to say ‘hi’ to Seokmin (how and why the two are friends, you don’t know, and you don’t care enough to ask). Noticing you were here past the regular working hour of six, he waited for a few moments to let you finish up your call before walking up to your desk.

“You know you don’t get paid overtime, right Sunshine?” he asks, confused on why exactly you were still here.

“Well work needs to get done,” you sigh heavily, taking a few seconds to clean up your desk and throw away a few old designs you sketched earlier.

“Hey, those looked cool, why’d you trash them?”

“They didn’t work,” you tell him, rummaging through more papers to find the few that you actually wanted to keep.

“Told you,” Seokmin comes up from behind Joshua, patting his shoulder. “She’s a tough judge—even on herself.”

“I get what you mean now,” Joshua murmurs, nodding along with his friend.

Your eyes snap up. “Why are you talking about me as if I’m not here—wait, why do you guys talk about me when I’m not here anyways?”

“You’re like the only one that’s nice to me in 77! Well, sort of,” Seokmin reasons with you.

“I mean you do kind of suck as an intern—”

“Hey! I just happened to get distracted a lot. I’m an honest worker, trust!”

You huff, finally finding the paper that you were looking for. It’s a design for a couple plaques that you want posted above the entrances, and you tuck it into a folder.

“Is that in Latin?” Joshua piques when he catches a glimpse of the wording.

“Uh, yeah—you know Latin?”

“He’s a prince. Of course he does,” Seokmin tells you, turning around to nudge his friend on the side. “This spoiled brat has been learning Latin since he was six!”

Joshua scoffs. “Who’re you calling a spoiled brat? You were in those classes with me too!”

You consider wondering about who exactly Seokmin is and why he was in those classes with a prince, why he’s so close with Joshua, and a plethora of questions run through your mind, before you remind yourself that you really don’t care.

“Yeah but—” Seokmin tries to reason with his friend before you stand up and both of their attention are directed at you.

“You’re right Pri—Joshua. I don’t get paid overtime, so I’m gonna get going now.” You bow at him and then Seokmin, grabbing your folder and bag before pushing in your chair and heading to the exit. Awkwardly, the two boys say bye to you before glancing at each other.

“That was weird,” Seokmin says, and Joshua shrugs.

“I guess.”

“Did you actually understand what she wrote or were you just bluffing? I don’t remember shit from those Latin lessons.”

Joshua rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but I only got the second word. Said ‘invictus,’ I think.”

“Huh, cool. Got no clue what that means.”

“It means undefeatable, dipshit,” Joshua groans. “Seriously, how’d you pass that class!”

“Hey, I was a great student—I just have, uh, bad memory,” Seokmin pouts.

“Yeah I can tell … seriously, how did you manage to fuck up the yarrows even after she,” Joshua gestures behind him as if to point at where you exited just a few moments earlier, “sent you all those instructions and all!”

“God, don’t remind me. I actually feel really bad, ‘cause Mr. Park yelled at her too for giving me ‘the wrong instructions,’ but I really just forgot what she told me.” Cringing at the mental image of both you and Seokmin being scolded by Mr. Park, Joshua shakes his head—that is not a pretty scene.

Joshua sighs, the two of them making their way out of the empty 77 and walking down the corridor towards the Royal Residence Quart. “Why’re you even interning for him? You don’t need a job, especially not as one being an assistant.”

“My dad’s pissed at me, remember?” Seokmin tells his friend gruffly, and Joshua purses his lips at the mention of the older man.

“Right.”

“Wanted to punish me for the summer or whatever, but I guess it’s not too bad. The staff are actually pretty funny, and your Sunshine girl is really bossy so she gives me a lot of work to do.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complaining or celebrating.”

“Both, I think,” Seokmin replies, the two of them laughing together. “Why do you talk to her so much? She’s even snappier to you than to me, and trust me, I can be pretty damn annoying.”

“Like I don’t know that,” Joshua mutters teasingly, earning him a punch on the arm. “But anyways, she seems interesting. Like cool, you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Seokmin says absentmindedly. “Wonder what my dad would say about that.”

“Okay well your dad isn’t the King so I don’t really think it matters what your dad says about it.”

Seokmin raises a brow. “You sure? My dad almost had me transferred out of 77 because he heard I had to work with her.”

“Well that’s his own problem I guess. Just don’t let him bring it up with my dad because I’m not keen on having any more drama in this castle,” Joshua mumbles, stopping in front of the big door that leads to the residence.

Seokmin nods at one of the guards standing by the door, and she presses a code to a small box on the wall and the doors open. “You coming? Dinner’s about to be served,” he calls to Joshua when he walks forward but realizes his friend isn’t by his side.

Smiling, Joshua shakes his head and waves Seokmin off. “I’m gonna take a breather for a bit. Tell them to start dinner without me.”

Seokmin laughs. “You know they won’t do that.”

“I know, I know, but it’s the gesture that counts anyways. I’ll be back in twenty, trust.”

The second time you saw Joshua was yesterday evening just as you were just leaving 77 to head home, your arms full of papers to look through in the night. After getting the pathways cleaned up, you needed to work on adding more structures to the courtyard, but were at a loss of what to make and what to make it with.

With your stack of papers that were littered with different possible materials and architectural structures that you promised yourself to get through by the end of the night, even if it meant pulling a whole damn all nighter.

“Is Sunshine leaving at a normal time for once?” Joshua asks with a faux gasp as he comes across you in the hallway.

With the paper’s digging into your arms, you can only manage to grunt out a short, “Thankfully, I am,” before increasing your pace so you can get all this stuff to your car as quickly as possible.

“Hey, wait!” Joshua calls out from behind you, and you almost whine because your arms are killing you and you aren’t sure how much more of this you can handle. “Do you need help? I can—”

He’s cut off by the sound of your phone slipping from your pocket and crashing to the ground. “Shit,” you whimper under your breath as you try to balance all the papers on one hand while crouching down to pick up your phone with the other. You’re wobbling under all the weight, and you have half a mind to give up right here and now but then a larger hand is pushing itself into your vision.

“Here,” he says, quickly turning over the device to check for any cracks on the scene. In that fraction of a moment, your phone turns on and flashes your very bright and very embarrassing lock screen. Your face burns as you snatch the phone from his hands and tuck it back into your pocket. “Is that Percy Jackson?”

Adjusting the papers in your hand, you shuffle your feet and start walking toward the exit. Joshua follows, as expected. “Uh, yeah—I know it’s embarrassing but—”

“Uh, you did not just say that,” Joshua scoffs, and when you catch the oddly offended look on his face, your annoyance dissipates for a moment. “Percy Jackson is not embarrassing. Those books were like the defining character of my pre-teens.”

You chew on your lip, wondering how you should respond to this. “That’s cool. I used to like the stories too …”

“Seems like you still do, considering it’s like, your lock screen and all.”

“Look, I just have it ‘cause it looks cool,” you tell him bashfully, speeding up the pace of your steps in hopes that it’ll bring this conversation to end faster.

“Uh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.”

“I’m serious,” you huff. “I liked the books ages ago, but now I’m only interested in Greek mythology. It just so happens that the best art of Greek gods comes from Percy Jackson fan artists.”

“Sure. sure,” Joshua says blankly with a smirk teasing at his lips. “Again, totally believe you.” You don’t know why his subtle teasing has you gripping onto your papers so tightly, why it has you gritting your teeth together. And then you remember who this is and it all makes sense.

Joshua is playful and lighthearted, but he is still the Prince, after all.

Your sixth week at the castle, and you’re nearing the halfway mark for your project’s timeline. You’ve spent the past week working on getting some stone benches built into the courtyard, and just this morning you sent in an order to get some plaques engraved.

Mr. Park stopped by when you were checking out your progress earlier, glancing at the pathways and the nearly completed seating. He didn’t say anything, simply nodding and walking along, and you figure that that’s the best you’ll get from him.

Your day goes by fine, for the most part after that. When you take your lunch break at the cafeteria, Seokmin tags along and you’re pleased that for once, you won’t have to eat alone. He has to leave soon after though—apparently Jihoon called for his help, and so you’re left to take care of this afternoon’s work by yourself.

Not that you mind—people let you be in the castle, and it’s actually quite nice for getting work done. When you return to 77, it’s only occupied by Mr. Park who, as always, pays no mind to you. Taking a look at your schedule, you aren’t sure if you feel like smiling or frowning when you see your next activity lined up.

Visiting the greenhouse.

There’s an odd feeling that blooms in your stomach as you walk there. You haven’t been to this side of this castle yet, partly because you don’t need to, but mostly because you don’t want to.

It’s when you leave the walls and take your way out to the Northeastern gardens of the palace that the pathways start ringing bells in your head. The familiar green bushes that you remember your mother tending to. The fields of daffodils, and the little built in canals that lead toward the row of greenhouses—it’s all flooding back to you, and you can’t figure out if you like it or not.

When you first came to the castle, you figured that you could avoid confronting the remnants of your past, but you should’ve known that everything eventually goes full circle.

Which is how you find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse where everything—your life, your mother’s life, all of it—ended on that day over ten long years ago.

Taking a deep breath, you go up to the door of the largest greenhouse ,tentatively tapping on the blurry glass before pushing it open. Peeking inside, you’re met with the familiar sight of flora arranged in neat lines of soil beds.

As you step in, the air is moist and stuffy—when you inhale, you’re reminded of those early Saturday mornings where you sat by your mother’s desk and watched her tend to the plants. The humidity was usually uncomfortable, but you learned to love it. Right now, you learn how much you missed it.

“Can I help you?” a gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, and you whip your head around to find an elderly woman glaring up at you.

“Hi, I called earlier and you said I could take some of the hyacinths. I just wanted to ask which greenhouse they’d be in because—”

“31C,” she says bluntly, immediately turning back around to tend to whatever she was doing earlier.

You watch her for a few seconds blankly, before snapping out of your haze, “O-okay, thank you.” Pursing your lips, you let your head hang low as you start walking toward the door.

“That damned slut,” the woman mutters quietly. You don’t think you want to hear it, but you continue to listen anyway. “Thinks she can just send her daughter over and—”

“And?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been more happy to hear Joshua’s voice.

Looking up, he’s just entered through the entrance you were about to exit through, and while you would usually mull over the possible reasons he would be here, you’re far more focused on watching the bewildered look on this woman’s face

“Nothing sir!” she replies quickly, back straightened as she presses her hands behind her back.

“Good to hear,” he says simply. You watch from the side as Joshua gives her a look that you can’t really gauge before turning to you with a brighter look on his face. “Seokmin told me I would find you here?”

“I—yeah, he was right.”

“Well I can see that Sunshine,” Joshua chuckles and waves your hand in a gesture to follow him. You don’t have any other choice than to follow him out the greenhouse and into the much freer, lighter air. “What’re you doing here anyways?” he asks when you start finding your way to 31C.

“I need to look at some flowers.” Joshua asks you quite a bit about the courtyard, and although you don’t really get it, you’ve learned that it’s easier to just reply to his questions honestly than try to avoid them.

“For the courtyard?” he piques as you finally find the smaller greenhouse, opening the door to thankfully find it empty of anyone else.

Your gaze lands on a bed of hyacinths as you reply, “What else?”

“Okay, you need to stop answering all of my questions like I’m stupid.”

Huffing, you pull up a pot from under the bed and fill it up with soil before digging your hands into the dirt around one of the hyacinth plants. Your fingers search under the earth before feeling against the roots and carefully pulling out the plant.

“Maybe stop asking stupid questions then,” you suggest.

“Seeing as you think I’m dumb … do you want to tutor me?”

“What?” you deadpan, looking up at him with your hands still in the dirt. “Why?”

“I mean like, you’re smart and all, plus we get along—”

You click your tongue, finally pulling the plant out of the soil and pressing it into the pot. “Not so sure about that second part.”

“Okay well we have some shared interests and stuff—”

“Like?” you counter, walking over to a sink so you can wash the excess soil off.

“Percy Jackson. Greek mythology?”

Your ears perk up at that. “You like Greek mythology?”

“Yes! See! That’s like, already two common interests, Sunshine.”

“More like only two. And one of them is a book series I haven’t read in about nine years so I’m not even sure it counts,” you rebut.

“Oh no, it definitely counts,” Joshua counters, watching you pick up the flower pot and head towards the greenhouse exit. “Wait, we’re diverting from the point here.”

“What is the point again?”

“You need to tutor me!” he whines as he follows behind you, up the pathway back to the castle.

“I need to? Uh, sorry, but I don’t think tutoring the Prince is under my job description.”

“This is a different job though!”

You knit your eyebrows together. “Am I getting paid?”

“You might,” Joshua smirks. “I’ll pay you by the hour.”

Pondering, you chew on the inside of your cheek, before you finally respond, “How much are we talking?”

Joshua grins, shaking his head. “Should’ve known money was the way to your heart Sunshine.”

“Money is not the way to my heart. It’s just the way to get me to tutor you. Don’t mix those two up.”

“Don’t worry Sunshine, I wish you all the best in finding your sugar daddy husband eventually.”

Glaring, you chastise him. “Joshua!”

“Why did you ask me to do this again?” you ask, stepping into the room Joshua has just led you to. It’s near the Royal Residence Quart of the castle, and you’re a bit on edge. Joshua assured you earlier that no one would question why you of all people would be here with him, but you’ve also noticed that the boy can be a bit distant from reality.

“Because,” Joshua starts, watching you look around the room (it is a very nice room; bookshelves line the walls and there’s a grand desk in the middle, a rolling chalkboard on one end and a vintage map on another rolling board scattered off to another end). “I don’t like the royal tutor they have, and you’re smart,” he says casually.

“You can’t ask for another one?” you murmur, raising a brow as he moves to the desk and hands you a folder.

“I could, but my mother would get upset if I keep running through them. I’ve changed my tutors far too many times by now.”

“Ah,” you say dryly. “The extreme difficulties of the royalty. How unfortunate.”

“Sunshine,” Joshua grins, ignoring your snarky comment. “Can you at least pretend you want to be here?”

“Um, I’ll think about it,” you reply honestly, pursing your lips together as you glance at his chalkboard which has a list of things he needs to go over. “What is it that you need help on?”

“Well I’m good at math and stuff but Literature and Chemistry are quite literally killing me,” Joshua says with a sigh, sitting down at his desk.

“Literature?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “You’re the Prince—isn’t Literature supposed to be like, I don’t know, your forte?”

“Who told you that?” Joshua asks with a pout, pulling up a packet of papers and letting it down on his desk with a thud.

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed they’d be having you read Machiavelli or something like that from the age of two.”

Joshua scoffs, holding up the book so you can read out the title. Oh, it’s The Waste Land. “Okay I get that this is a kingdom and all but seriously, who even uses Machiavellianism anymore? That’s from like six hundred years ago.”

“Less than that,” you correct, but shrug anyways and sit down at the chair on the other side of his desk. “But whatever, you need help with The Waste Land?”

“I mean, yeah I’ve read it a bunch but I just never get it and my mom is obsessed with it for some reason and I really don’t want her to make me sit through another read of it so I really need to write up something good on it that will satisfy my Literature instructor and my mom so I can get it out of the way.”

“A paper?”

“Yeah, you know: analyzing themes and stuff.”

“Okay I know what a paper is,” you snap and Joshua rolls his eyes.

“Look now you’re just picking fights over everything I say. Just relax and—”

“I am relaxed,” you huff, but the tension in your shoulders says otherwise. To be honest, you’re still not sure why Joshua decided to choose you of all people, as if you haven’t made it clear multiple times that you weren’t his biggest fan.

You can respect the effort, you guess, but the way he seems so unbothered by your snarkiness is getting a little bit irritating.

“Whatever you say Sunshine,” Joshua says with a shrug, turning the packet and handing it to you. The poem is littered with annotations, underlines, and highlighter marks all over, and you squint for a moment trying to remind yourself of what you remember from the last time you looked at the work. “You read it before? The Waste Land?”

“Uh, yeah, ages ago though. Like back in high school,” murmur, flipping through the pages to jog your memory.

“Why were you reading The Waste Land in high school? Seems like too much, no?”

“Well not everyone was granted the freedom to do as they please with whoever they please,” you tell him, eyes flickering between Joshua’s curious face and the packet in front of you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joshua asks, and his voice is slightly whiny.

“It means that people didn’t want to talk to me so I had to spend my time reading. Even if it was ‘too much,’ or whatever you said.”

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice is quiet. See, you remind yourself, clouded from reality is what Joshua is. “Well I—”

“Forget it. I think I’m going to have to go home and reread The Waste Land if you want me to be of any help. What else do you have to work on, or do you just want to do Chemistry?”

“Uh, sure we can move onto Chemistry,” Joshua replies hastily, tucking the paper back into his folder haphazardly before shoving it into a drawer and pulling out a much thicker notebook. “I kinda need help with a lot of it. Like—I’m sorry I just don’t get it—what the hell is an electrophile and a nucleophiles and why the hell I need to know them for alkanes and—”

“Slow down,” you say, sticking your hand out. You grab the notebook from his desk and skip over the contents before looking back up. “If you want me to do this for you, we’re going to have to start from the basics, okay?”

Joshua gives you a look which tells you he doesn’t think he needs to do that, but you open the notebook to a new page, pulling out a pen. Begrudgingly, he nods and leans his head in to see what you’re writing.

He’s oddly compliant when you ask him to be, despite his jumpy and bubbly personality, and for a fraction of a second, you wonder about his potential. Quickly, you push that thought out of your mind.

It’s late afternoon when you reach the courtyard, smiling at the progress. You told the workers to get started on digging up the pond this morning, and you’re pleased to see that there’s already a large dugout in the century.

“Good work!” you chirp to Jungho, the contractor you talked to over the phone. He seemed nice enough over the phone, but you soon realized within the first time that you two met in person that he was just as standoff-ish as the rest. “But we’re going to need to get the insides patted down and compressed so when we put the water in, the soil won’t just soak it up,” you try to tell him casually.

Jungho points his thumb behind him at some of his men. “Yeah we have a guy for that,” he says gruffly, not even meeting your gaze.

“Thanks … maybe have it finished within a week?”

“Okay. Anything else?” Jungho looks around awkwardly, before adding. “Want us to get the water in there too? Then we can get outta … outta your hair and stuff and don’t have to keep coming back.”

“Uh, no—there’s some lining I want to do with the pond, and I’ve got to do that before there’s water in it. But it’s something I want to do myself, so you can just take care of compressing the soil and I’ll take it from there.”

Jungho gives you a weird look but you brush it off. “Alright. We’ll have it finished by tomorrow,” he finalizes, and with that he turns on his heels and walks back to his workers who you can tell were watching him from the corner of their vision.

“Why are those guys looking at you like that?”

You whip your head around, seeing Joshua standing just a few meters away from you on the pathway coming in from the East entrance. He glances around and finds a marble bench that’s just been made, sitting on the edge casually.

“Joshua, you’ve seen people look at me like that before and I think you know exactly why,” you mutter, walking over to where he sits. Joshua doesn’t respond and instead averts his gaze to the ground.

There’s a stray kitten bouncing around at his feet, and he’s quick to drop to his knees on the pathway and engulf her in his large hands. It would be an endearing sight, you think. Sorta, you guess.

“Whatever. You’re still coming in on Sunday right? My instructor prepared this stupid Chemistry exam for me on Tuesdays and I know you can’t help out on Mondays so I kind of really need you to help me on Sunday so I can prep. So please, please, please—”

“You know I’m gonna come in, so you don’t have to pester me so much about it,” you say with a sigh, putting your folder down and crouching on the ground so you can pet the kitten. She’s cute, with wide slanted eyes and soft brown fur, the wet kitten licks feeling warm against your palm.

“But you put up with it, don’t you?” You roll your eyes but Joshua still grins when you don’t disagree.

“I don’t understand you,” you mutter, truthfully speaking your mind as the kitten rolls around in Joshua’s lap. You smile without thinking, and Joshua carefully watches your usually taut face unravel in front of him.

“Are you kidding me? I’m literally an open book. You know Sunshine, you can find my whole life on Wikipedia.”

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that, and it’s hard to tell who is more surprised between the two of you. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you murmur, struggling to hold back another laugh, the kitten jumping out of his lap to play around on the ground under the gentle hands of you and Joshua.

“Not that I would know. You think I’m stupid anyways.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Oh my god, please don’t even try to counter that. When I told you I didn’t know why helium was named helium, you looked at me like I was the dumbest person to ever live.”

“Okay that’s only because you say you like Greek mythology! How could you not put that together—it’s so obvious! Helium and Helios sound totally alike, and everyone knows helium is like, one of the most abundant elements in the sun.”

“Maybe you know that. You’re also insanely smart,” Joshua counters.

“Whatever you say. But for the record, I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe a little dense, but that’s it.”

Joshua pouts. “Aren’t those basically the same thing?” You know he’s only being playful, but something about the way he says it makes you think twice. He’s being sweet. So sweet, it feels almost bitter.

“No. You have a smart head, Joshua. Honest. I think you just gotta learn how to use it,” you tell him, more softly this time.

“Thanks Sunshine,” he replies gruffly and you frown, realizing that your attempts to make him feel better haven’t quite worked.

“I’m serious. What? You don’t think I’m serious?” Joshua shakes his head, and you roll your eyes when you pick up the kitten yourself and pull her into your lap.

“You’re mean. So no, I don’t think you’re being serious.”

You gasp, using the hand that isn’t playing with the kitten to place it over your chest dramatically. “I am not mean. I’m just honest. I’m being honest right now.”

“Whatever,” Joshua quips, turning his nose and looking away pettily.

“Okay, are you actually upset?” you groan, cradling the kitten up to your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re more annoyed because you can’t tell if Joshua is upset, or because you might be the reason he’s upset.

“Who knows. Not that you would care.”

“I obviously care, because I’m asking,” you deadpan, letting the kitten roll around in your arms, letting out a squeak of surprise when one of its claws gets caught in the belt of your robe, making a tear in the silk.

Joshua gives you a funny look when he says, “You can be quite pestering when you want to.”

“Congratulations! You now know how I feel.”

“See what I mean! You’re mean. I want the kitten back.”

You clutch the little close to your chest and nuzzle your face into her neck. “No can do. I’m afraid she’s mine until you admit you know I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Oh my god, is this how it feels when I annoy you?” Joshua grumbles, throwing his head back. “Remind me to never pester you again. Ever.”

“Self awareness is great and all, but like I said, you’re not getting her until you admit it.”

“Fine. I don’t think you think I’m stupid. Happy?”

You hum and shake your head. “Mm, no. Gotta sound more convincing.”

Joshua knits his eyebrows together. “If you’re so insistent on this, then I guess it must be true. I don’t think you think I’m stupid,” he repeats, but his tone is gentler this time.

“Good work.”

Joshua stands tall on a hill. His broad shoulders are sharp with his straightened back and taught jaw. The sky is orange and you watch him from below, the clouds moving slowly above his head in the background.

He’s looking out at something, but you can’t quite tell what. It’s off in the distance, but his eyes are dilated and unwavering for a few long moments.

Wind whistles in your ear, and then the sky grows brighter and brighter until it’s no longer orange and suddenly turning yellow and then white. So white that it hinders your vision and you’re wincing through the light until you realize Joshua is not on the hill anymore.

You look around frantically to no avail—you can’t see anything but white with black spots in your vision and you feel like you’re going blind. And you want to scream but when you open your mouth no sound comes and the blowing of wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like you’re at the beach.

Looking around, you see your legs knee deep in ocean water and you’re no longer hearing the rampage of wind and instead the crashing of waves against rocks. There isn’t a hill anymore, there’s a cliff, but still no sight of Joshua.

It’s still so bright, so bright and you close your eyes tightly again until you feel a shade fall over your figure. A gasp escapes your lips when you see what’s above you.

Wide wings, ornate with white and golden feathers, perched over Joshua’s back as he hovers above you. He’s not looking anywhere else now, only you.

His face glows and then he smiles and you close your eyes one last time but when you open them again, all you see is darkness.

You’ve never been great at remembering dreams. More often than not, you wake up with no remnants of the life you lived in your head the night before, and on the rare occasions that you do happen to recall something, it’s only just random snippets that also hardly make sense.

Last night was no different, although you do wake up with an uneasy feeling, not because of what you dreamed about—you don’t remember that—but because you know you dreamed about Joshua. It’s just the wake up call you need to tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, you’re spending more time with him than you should.

It’s a Saturday morning as you trudge out of bed and to the kitchen, trying to settle the weird feelings that course through your veins when you see your mother brewing a pot of tea. “How’d you sleep?” she asks, not looking up from the boiling water.

Shrugging as you grab a home-grown orange, you respond, “Well enough.”

“Can’t believe they have you going to the palace on the weekends too … I never had to work on Saturdays or Sundays.”

You wonder how she brings up her time at the castle so casually—you don’t know if you’ll ever understand her. “I really don’t have to—I can work on my own schedule basically whenever, as long as I get the courtyard finished by the end of three months.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Behind schedule. Obviously. That’s why I’m heading in again.”

Your mother smiles and walks over, ruffling your hair. “I’m glad you’re working hard on this—I can tell you’re enjoying it, as much as you didn’t want to go there.”

“It’s nice, I guess. I get to be creative, and get paid. Really, getting the money is all I care about,” you tell her casually, taking the peel off the orange and popping a piece into your mouth.

“You don’t talk about it much, but I’m assuming people don’t give you that hard of a time? You always come home fine.”

They do, it just doesn’t happen to be anything you’re not used to. Your mind flashes to Joshua and Seokmin for a moment, and you’re once again reminded of the unnerving fact that you did dream about the former, and you can’t even remember what it was about. “Things are fine.”

You’re three tutoring sessions in with Joshua, and it’s finally the day that you pull out your own copy of The Waste Land. “Oh thank god,” he says with a breath of relief when he sees it. “This paper has been bugging me forever—if we didn’t get started on it soon I might’ve combust.”

“I appreciate the vivid imagery,” you say dryly, “but I really did not need to picture that in my head.”

“Sorry,” Joshua says with a shrug as you sit across from him. “So what’re we gonna do today, Sunshine?”

“Hmm, get through the first part hopefully. We can read it back and forth and talk about it together, so you can take notes. It might be easier that way, so you can get all your thoughts and ideas out, and then it’ll be easier for you to write that paper.”

“Sounds boring.”

“I guess I’ll just pack my stuff and—”

“Okay! Okay! I was just joking. Let’s start, please,” he complies easily, and you smirk as you sit back down.

“Good to hear. Read this part.”

You’re around an hour and a half into the lesson, still working through the first part as Joshua frowns when you finish another stanza.

“Do we have to keep going?” he whines.

“Yes we do. Let’s work with this part now. Read it out for me,” you instruct, pointing out a stanza on your own paper.

“Why—” You give him a look. “—okay fine.”

‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oed’ und leer das Meer.

When he’s done, Joshua looks up at you blankly. “If I’m being honest, I have zero clue what this means.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve said that every time you read a new section, but I know that’s not true, because you literally always come up with something.”

Joshua scrunches up his face and slaps his hands to his cheeks in frustration. “But now I’m being serious! This is making no sense to me—I hate Literature, okay? My brain is dead right now and I don’t think I can do any more Sunshine.”

“We’ve been doing this for less than two hours,” you say bluntly. “Look—you said you like Greek mythology right? Try and draw some connections. Maybe that’ll make this more enjoyable.”

“I hardly think T.S. Elliot could produce anything I enjoy,” Joshua huffs as he tilts the page so he can read it better, “But fine. I still don’t get what about this has anything to do with mytho—oh!”

“Finally! You get it?”

“Hyacinthus!” You nod eagerly, gesturing your hands to tell him to go on. “Uh, it was that story with Apollo. Shit, what was the story again?” He looks up and taps at his chin, but when you open your mouth to help him out, Joshua sticks a hand in front of your face and shakes his head. “No wait, I remember. The one where they were in love but Apollo accidentally killed him when they were playing a game!”

“You’re right. The blood of Hyacinthus was eventually turned into flowers by Apollo to honor his death or something like that. In the context of this poem … the giver of the hyacinth flower is almost like a sign of—”

Joshua snaps his fingers in the air and grins. “Forgiveness!”

“Well, not exactly giving forgiveness, but asking for it.”

“Kind of like … saying you’re sorry?” Joshua smiles brighter when you nod. “Holy shit, maybe I do enjoy T.S. Elliot.”

You roll your eyes and point at his notebook and pen. “Good, now write that down. You are going to have to write about this, remember?”

Joshua pouts, but picks up the pen nevertheless. “Whatever you say Sunshine.”

“Joshua told me to tell you that he thinks T.S. Elliot sucks,” Seokmin says, coming up to you in the cafeteria as you polish off your own tray. It’s a large and grand area—an old ballroom that turned into a commonplace for the workers.

Large mirrors plate the walls, and across from you, you can watch Seokmin’s reflection as he sits down next to you. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him, “He’s only saying that because I told him to write the paper himself.”

Seokmin furrows his eyebrows as he places a white box, a little larger than the size of your hand, on the table. Glancing around, you catch people in the mirror watching you with wavering gazes before turning away when they find you looking at them.

Huff lightly, you turn your attention back to Seokmin. “What’s this?”

“Joshua told me to give it to you.”

That’s new. Tentatively, you lift the lid a little to peek inside, only finding a haphazard mess of stuffing paper with something purple concealed underneath. “Would it be a smart decision to open it right now?”

“Oh my gosh, it’s not an explosive or anything.”

“You don’t know that!”

Seokmin rolls his eyes himself this time. “Yes I do. I packed it.”

“Ugh, even worse. I’m not opening it if you’re around. That’s embarrassing.”

“Is not! I think that you should—” Seokmin is cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, cursing under his breath when he sees the caller ID. For a moment, you consider peering over and taking a look, but Seokmin stands up too quickly. “I gotta go for a second. I’ll catch you before you leave!” he calls out when he’s already pushing his chair in and rushing off into the distance.

You laugh at his hurry, wondering what could possibly ensue such nervousness from the boy, but you quickly remind yourself that this is Seokmin and he gets the jitters when he even has to think about being around Mr. Park for more than twenty minutes.

Soon, you start to clean up your area yourself, putting your trays away and throwing away your trash in the weirdly fancy bins they have scattered around the hall. As your lunch break nears its end, you grab the oddly light box, your phone, and make your way back to 77.

The room is empty, safe for Jihoon who’s got his head buried in his laptop, and you think it’s a good time to check what’s inside. If it is an explosive, you’ll just have to apologize to Jihoon in the afterlife.

Opening the lid, those same, crumpled papers lay on top, but this time you notice a little white card in the middle. Pursing your lips, your eyes flicker to your side to see if Jihoon’s watching (he never is, but it doesn’t hurt to check), and when your privacy is confirmed, you flip the paper over.

There’s a message written in purple pen, adorning a handwriting that you can distinctly recognize as Joshua’s.

Thank you for all the help. I really owe you one.

You aren’t quite sure what he’s talking about, and you make a mental note to ask him about it when you see him later. Right now, you rummage through the papers, hands feeling the space beneath them before they land on a smooth layer of fabric.

Confused, you pull it out, only to see it’s a ribbon, much like the one tied around your own waist. Same color, same material, same emblem, the only difference being …

You glance down at your own robes where the ribbon has a small tear at one end from where the kitten had pawed at you. You have to blink a few times to realize what Joshua’s intentions were, and when you do, you can’t help the warm smile that begrudgingly makes its way onto your face.

Quickly, you tug the ends of the ribbon around your waist and let it unravel, taking the new ribbon and tying it just as your mother taught you. It’s the same thing as the one before, yes, but this is different. This is a gift.

Donning Joshua’s (your?) ribbon, you start to clean up your desk space and tuck your old ribbon back into your bag. You forgot to tell Seokmin you’re tutoring Joshua this afternoon, so as you pack up you text him a sincere ‘thank you’ message, and let him know that you might not be able to see him before you go. You don’t get a response, which is slightly odd since Seokmin seems to always be on top of things, but you shrug it off and remind yourself that he’s busy.

Today, you make your way down the smaller halls with a little skip to your step. Joshua showed you this pathway earlier so it’d be easier to get to his study room without being seen; it’s a nice little series of corridors that are a little dimmer and narrower, but still hold the lavish feel you always get walking through the palace.

You can hear the voices of a few people, but it seems quiet, hushed, and somehow a little heated—in other words, caught up in their own world. Being in the castle for almost two months now, you’ve learned to realize what kind of situations need your caution and which ones don’t. This is the latter.

You smile to yourself, smoothing your palms over the new, not-torn silk ribbon around your waist, as you near the second entrance to his study, about to enter another hallway to the final stretch and—shit.

When you turn a corner, your heart stops.

You turn back and run down the corridor. You don’t know if Seokmin saw you, and quite frankly, you don’t care.

It didn’t take you more than a second to put two and two together and suddenly you’re pushed back into your nine year old body—you don’t really know what’s happening or why it’s happening, all you know is that it hurts.

You’re going to have to apologize to Joshua for flaking on him. Surely he’ll understand that you were just a little bit upset by the sight you had to see.

After all, you did just witness Seokmin, quite literally your only real friend in this damn castle, speaking to Advisor Lee, the man who tore your mother’s life down. And now is when everything starts to click, because you realize that Seokmin is Advisor Lee’s son.

Of course he was close with Joshua—he probably grew up on these very castle grounds. Of course they attended the same classes—his father was the King’s advisor and cousin.

It makes sense now, and in your bleary haze as you make your way back to 77, you’re not sure what to do. You rush past a few other staff members murmuring under their breath when they see you, and you usually wouldn’t be bothered by the sight but now you remember that this is the first time you’ve cried since you got here, and it’s all because of that man who started this all in the first place.

As you lock yourself in one of the staff bathrooms, you catch your disheveled appearance and furiously wipe at your cheeks. Fuck. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t be crying over this, because god knows you did not spend years thickening your skin for it to be cut open like this.

You should’ve known. Should’ve fucking known.

You try to stop your tears, telling yourself that they’re all the same. That you shouldn’t have expected anything more from these people, that you should’ve picked up on how Seokmin was definitely someone important, that you should’ve never fallen for his and Joshua’s sweet games.

“Shit,” you gasp out as a sob rips from your throat, and you clutch the side of the sink as uneasiness bubbles up in your stomach and spreads through your limbs until you’re trembling.

Maybe you let him get so close because you thought he saw you for something else. Maybe you believed that he saw you as more than a pity project. More than someone who was defined by their past.

Joshua and Seokmin—they knew. They knew everything this whole damn time.

And now you’re angry—you’re so fucking angry. Tugging at your hair, ripping up your clothes, and thrashing your limbs around kind of angry. The kind of anger that poisons your bones and makes your body ache until you can’t take it anymore. The kind of anger that wraps its hand around your throat and squeezes the air out of you until you can do nothing but relent. The kind of anger that has you looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking, what the fuck.

The worst thing is you can’t even be mad at him. You want to be mad at him and you want to be mad at Joshua. You want to have the will to go up to them and slap the smiles off their faces because how dare Seokmin be the own flesh and blood of Advisor Lee, and how dare Joshua know and not have the guts to tell you.

Because after everything, Seokmin and Joshua were your friends and—fuck—they were some damn good friends. Your best friends, maybe, if you ever had the liberty to even know what that means.

And it wasn’t because they were overly nice, or excessively cheery, or because Seokim was always grinning and Joshua was always smirking, but because when they talked to you, they were talking to you, and not some shell of your past.

Finally, now, when you press your face into your hands as your last attempt to calm yourself down, you feel like you can breathe. You’re not sure where your head is at, and something tells you that it’s gonna take a damn long time to figure it out.

You’re a little lost.

You were just trying to get to the South end entrance of the courtyard but you must have taken a wrong turn or something because you’re walking down a corridor you’ve quite literally never seen before. It’s similar to the hallways of the rest of the palace, but it’s slightly taller and a bit more narrow, and the workers walking through wear faces that you aren’t familiar with. You’re a little nervous about where your feet are taking you, and you consider just turning around and retracing your steps when you hear a voice.

Seokmin’s voice is loud when he calls your name, and you press your lips together tightly when it rings in your ears. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come down to the South e—” he starts to say when walks up to you from a corridor to your left.

“Nothing,” you reply briskly, turning on your heel so your back is pretty much facing him. “I was just leaving actually.”

“What—hey! Slow down! Where’re you going?”

“77,” you mutter under your breath as you speed up your pace.

“Slow down!”

You don’t relent. “Seokmin, don’t you have stuff to do right now instead of following me around?” You can’t see the look on his face, but you can only imagine it’s one of defeat.

“I—” his voice is quieter this time, “Okay.”

The footsteps that were one following you die out, and as you browse the corners of your vision, you conclude that he’s finally left you alone. You should feel relieved—happy that he’s not bothering you now—but sometimes uneasy churns inside of you, and you aren’t sure what it is.

The rest of your day goes as it usually does in a palace. You tend to your work and as it hits late afternoon, you start making your way to Joshua’s study. Once again, you’re not sure where your head is at.

“Is everything alright?” Joshua asks you the second you walk in. “Seokmin told me you looked upset and wouldn’t talk to him so I—”

You inhale deeply before, putting your hands up in a stopping motion. “I can’t tutor you anymore.”

Joshua looks at you weirdly. “What, why?”

“Or talk to you,” you add.

“What—”

“Just—just don’t talk to me. Or ask me to tutor you. Or ask for my help, or ask to help me—you know what just like—I dunno, stay away from me.”

“Sunshine, where is this coming from?” Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose, and you don’t think he’s understanding the weight of his words.

“Why do you even talk to me?” you snap. “Like seriously, if you can bother any worker in the castle, why does it have to be me?”

Hurt flashes in Joshua’s face for hardly a second before he frowns deeply. “I—what’s going on?”

“Do you and Seokmin think this is funny? Being nice to me like—” You throw your hands in the air. “—like I’m some kind of joke?”

“What? No, Sunshine, what are you even talking about?”

“I know who Seokmin’s dad is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “So if Seokmin still wants to know why I don’t feel like talking to him, maybe consider telling him that I’m not interested in being around someone whose father is literally the reason me and my mom’s lives have been so fucked up.”

Joshua winces at the last statement. You’ve been irritated with him, annoyed with him, and all that petty stuff, sure, but this is different.

“Seokmin isn’t like that, okay? He isn’t—you know—like that.”

“And how would you know?” you snap. “Prince Joshua, what do you know about having people be, quote unquote, above you? You have everything in front of you, and when people look at you and Seokmin it’s not ‘cause of some fucked up scandal which pinned your mom as the kingdom’s slut of the century, it’s ‘cause they literally bow down to your presence and—”

Something tells you to stop yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you know you’re not actually angry at them. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so fucking tired of being angry all the time that you can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that when you finally look him in the eye, Joshua looks sad.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says meekly. “Seokmin should—we should’ve let you know earlier. I promise we didn’t be your friend just ‘cause of that,” he rambles. “I mean obviously we knew about it but we didn’t wanna bring it up because everyone was bringing it up and—I’m sorry. You know Seokmin isn’t like that.”

“And you?” you quip, but you know your retorts hold no weight. “How do I know you aren’t like—like that.”

Joshua falters and you watch him gulp. He looks tired and his lips are red from how hard he’s been chewing on them as you speak. “Y-you know,” his voice is quiet, “You know I’m not.”

You have your answer before you even have to think about it, but you pause for a few moments, waiting to respond. All that comes out is a shallow breath as you look down and squeeze your eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I just—” You sigh weakly. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” Joshua doesn’t respond—he knows you’re thinking.

You wonder what to do with yourself. You’re not angry. Not sad either. Uneasy? Maybe. It’s the uncertainty of it all. You don’t understand why you’re not mad, and you don’t understand why you want to forgive him so easily, but you’re starting to realize that you should stop trying to understand the things that might never make sense.

Finally, you nod. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry again. I guess we didn’t wanna make that whole thing all about you. Because like, you’re you, and whatever happened is separate.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Thank you.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

You glare at him. “Dipshit, no it wasn’t!”

“I’m taking this as a sign that you’re feeling better. Am I correct?”

You bite back a smile and shrug. “I guess.”

“Cool, ‘cause I think you’d like to know that my mom stopped by the courtyard the other day.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say? This is all for her isn’t it—hopefully she liked it.”

“Yeah no, she said it was great. She thought the patterns of the pathway were cool and so she asked me if I could figure out why they were designed like that and I said no. By the way, why did you design them like that?”

“There’s this song I like. It’s called Isohel, and when I first heard it, I liked it a lot,” you explain. “Searched up what it means and stuff and then a few weeks later I was taking some filler class for the credits and my professor goes on some tangent about god-knows-what, and somehow he brings up pictures of an isohel map. An isohel—it’s basically a line which maps out the places that have the same duration of sunshine. Pretty cool, I think.”

“Is that what the pathways are? Are they—what is it—an isohel?”

“Mhm. On an isohel map, they’re not always just lines—they come around full circle sometimes so it looks like these funky, squiggly ovals sometimes,” you ramble. “So I took one of those circle-ish things and broke it up and pieced it together like a pathway.”

“That’s really smart.” Joshua pauses. “You’re really smart.”

It’s not the first time someone’s told you that. Fuck, it’s not even the first time Joshua’s told you that, but it feels different now. He means it, you know it in your bones.

“I-I dunno,” you stammer. “I guess. It just relates to the theme of the sun. My mom taught me about it when I was younger—I loved the sun.”

“So that’s what the theme of your courtyard is? Me and Seokmin have been betting on that for ages.”

You scoff, “You guys bet on that? Seriously, do you have nothing better to do with your time?”

“Clearly not!” he shoots back, causing you to laugh. “Are you really feeling better now?” Joshua asks sincerely, and when you smile and nod, he grins. “Hey, I just realized you talked to me about your feelings—”

“Don’t mention it,” you snap gruffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua clicks his tongue and chuckles. “There’s the Sunshine I know.”

It’s the next day when you walk into 77. Jihoon’s desk is empty, Mr. Park is just about to leave as you enter and you bow to him quickly as you settle in your desk. Seokmin is in the corner watering the yarrows, seeming to not have noticed you yet.

You watch him closely, smiling softly when you notice he stops before he can overwater them. Quietly, you set your stuff down and Seokmin begins to talk. “Oh, Jihoon, Mr. Park was just looking for you—oh,” he cuts himself flat when he turns around and sees you.

You’re not sure what to do, because Joshua didn’t exactly tell you if he told Seokmin about your conversation and what not, but the look on Seokmin’s face is telling you that he’s just a little behind on the news.

“Hey,” you say casually, throwing a hand up to wave at him as you set your bag down on your desk. Seokmin opens his mouth and then closes it a few times, as if he’s searching for the right words but they don’t quite come out for a few moments.

“Joshua told me that, uh, you know that—” He pauses and glances at you, trying to watch for any hints of anger on your face, but none comes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a shrug, and Seokmin has to blink twice because he’s not sure he heard you correctly at all.

“W-what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I said don’t worry about it,” you state again, and then add more softly, “You’re not your father. I get it.” You get it more than anyone. “Anyways, did you get the workers to start planting the hyacinths?”

Seokmin shakes his head once to snap himself back into reality and then shakes his head again a second time. “Wait no, I mean—wait, yes! I mean yes! I did do that—I should go remind them to get on that,” he rambles quickly, clearly a little flustered.

You chuckle. “It’s good to see you’ve been watering the yarrows properly now. Mr. Park finally beat it into you?”

“Y-yeah I guess. I’ve been getting better at remembering them all,” he tells you, starting to fall into a more casual tone. It’s normal, you think. Nice and normal. Nice and normal and just what you need.

“What are you doing here?”

When you turn around with your bag slung over your shoulder, you’re surprised to see Joshua. “Um, working?”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he states, lips pinched together in a funny expression, like he can’t figure you out.

“I think I know that,” you chuckle. “I didn’t know if I could come in on Monday—I need to stop by the university campus for something—so I just came in today to take care of some stuff.”

“You’re a dedicated worker huh … you should just work here forever—the pay is great.”

“Mm, I’m not sure about that,” you say honestly as you look him up and down. It strikes you now that Prince Joshua truly is a handsome man. Dark velvety robes that are even more grand than the ones you’re used to seeing on him, well fit dress pants against his legs and shiny leather shoes that seem to fit his image perfectly. “Anyways, I heard there’s a ball tonight? You’re not going?”

Joshua shrugs as he turns around and starts walking, waving you over to follow him. “C’mon follow me.” You contemplate your choices before telling yourself, what’s the worst that could happen, scurrying on after him. “I left—it got boring, so I got about twenty-five minutes before someone calls me and asks me to come back. My bets are on it being Seokmin ‘cause he’ll get bored.”

You snort at that as the familiarity of this route starts to sink in. “Hey are we going to my …”

“Yeah. Seokmin told me you finally got it named, and I want to check it out.”

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur bashfully—you hadn’t expected Joshua to be that interested in it. You walk through the empty corridors to the hallway that has the North entrance of the courtyard, and Joshua cranes his neck up to look at the golden plaque that rests above the entrance.

“Sol Invictus, huh.”

You nudge him on the side playfully. “You know what that means, Mr. Latin Genius?”

“Of course I do,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. “Sun god, or whatever,”

“God of sun, but you were close enough I guess,” you mutter as you walk through. The courtyard looks different in the night. It’s nearly done, and as the little warm lights you had placed in intervals along the path light up the scene, you can’t help but feel overwhelming pride with how well you’ve done.

“C’mon, let’s sit here,” he says, pointing down at the circular patch of grass that surrounds the pond in the middle. Joshua sits down first and you watch him carefully before quickly sitting next to him as well.

The grass is cool under your skin, but as a comfortable silence envelopes you and Joshua, you start to think you really don’t mind.

“I think lots of people think I’m stupid or something,” Joshua finally speaks up, and some uncomfortable feeling boils in your stomach at the words. “You know, the only thing people usually compliment me on is my fencing, really. And fencing is one of those things that, if you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you sort of gotta be good at it.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I know. Thank you.” There’s a silence as he reaches over the stone lining of the hyacinth beds, plucking a few from the shrubs.

“Joshua!” you complain. “I had those planted just last week.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, handing the two he plucked to you. You don’t hesitate to keep your palms open for him, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms as he does so. You rub the smooth petals between your fingers and a thumb, bringing one close to your chest before taking the other and handing it back to Joshua.

He looks at you, eyes clearly confused, but holds it to his own chest anyways. With your hands behind you on the ground, you lean back and look up at the sky, letting your shoulders relax. The night air pinches at your skin, but the soft fabric of Joshua tuxedo is warm as it brushes next to you.

“Why’d you name this pond Eridenus?” Joshua asks, pointing at the plaque by the pebble lining which spells out the word in fancy lettering.

“You don’t know where it’s from?” you sigh, lifting your head so you can shoot him a stern look. Joshua rolls his eyes and nudges your cheek with his shoulder, motioning you to lean back down at him.

“You know I’m a rascal—I’m forgetful. Tell me what it means.”

“It’s confirmed: you’re a fake mythology fan. I’m suing the universe.” Joshua chuckles and pokes you, egging you to go on. “Do you remember the story of Phaethon?”

Joshua hums. “Uh, son of Helios. Didn’t believe that he was his son. Asked to ride his carriage but lost control and almost burned the Earth?”

You shrug. “Well that’s most of it I guess. He’s racing down to the earth and everything is chaos—rivers boiling, forests on fires, people turning to ash—and so Zeus throws his bolt at him and kills Phaethon right in the sky.”

“Kind of like the story of Icarus. But the opposite I guess. Instead of getting too close to the sun, he brings the sun too close to the earth.”

“You could put it like that. They have the same meaning, I think. But anyways, Phaethon falls out of the carriage and as he dies he falls into this river called Eridenus.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s voice is quiet as you both watch the gentle water lap back and forth in front of you. The small waves hitting the stone barriers of the pound is the only sound that permeates the night sky, besides your shared breaths and the occasional whistling of wind.

“It’s kind of like—” You.

“Don’t say it.” Joshua’s words are crisp and short, and he doesn’t look at you. You want to say the words—I’m sorry—but they get stuck in your throat and ripple through your limbs as you scoot closer to him.

“Anyways,” Joshua finally says, but the word is only followed with silence.

“I think you need to get back to the ball,” you tell him quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your skin burns from where it was previously pressed against him and you silently chide yourself for letting yourself get so close.

Joshua finally turns to face you, and you’re surprised when he chuckles. “So eager to get rid of me, Sunshine?” You scoff, pushing him away gently.

“I-I just don’t want you to get in trouble!” you stutter as you push yourself off the ground, Joshua following suit.

“Aw, so you care about me?” His eyes crinkle up in that familiar way when he says it and you can’t help the childish grin that makes its way onto your face.

“More like I don’t want you to complain to me about how you got scolded!”

“Mm, sounds a lot like you care about me,” Joshua counters, returning your smile with one of his own. You roll your eyes and carefully skip in your dress toward the exit on the North end of the courtyard.

When you almost trip over your robes, Joshua catches you and his rough palm presses against the small of your back as you regain your balance, the two of you giggling together as he drops you off at 77 before heading to the ballroom.

It’s almost laughable how happy you are. Silly you for forgetting that fairytales don’t happen in real life.

The walls look brighter, the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling seem to glitter a bit more, the ground seems smoother; you enjoy walking through the castle in a way you never thought you could.

It’s a normal evening and you’re nearing the end of your time at the castle, but you choose to ignore the odd feeling you get when you think too long about leaving this place. There’s still more work to get done, and you don’t want to spend your time focusing on things that you know will only distract you.

You’re in the middle of Sol Invictus today, looking through a paper and phone as you go through some old plans and checklists, trying to figure out if there is anything you should do before you pack your bags and head towards Joshua’s study.

Just as you’re about to unclick your pen and tuck your things away and head back to 77, someone speaks to you from behind.

“A lovely courtyard we have here.” You know this voice. Everyone knows this voice.

Your blood runs cold as you turn around and face the King, neck craning down immediately as you bow down, stepping away while you hold your hands behind your back.

“G-good evening sir,” you stutter, almost tripping over the stone of your own pathways when you stand up and straighten your back. It’s your first time in years seeing him in person, and you tell yourself as your stomach churns that this was bound to happen at some point.

“Care to tell me about what you’ve got going on here?” he asks, walking around the little stone circle that surrounds Eridenus. “You’re the head of the project, is that right?”

“Yes sir,” you reply quickly, bowing again slightly when he finally goes full circle stopping next to you. His hands are behind his back as you watch him look over the almost complete fields of flowers. “I—uh—it’s called Sol Invictus,” you say. “The—”

“God of Sun.”

“Y-yes sir. Apollo and Helios,” you begin to explain. “Which is why I’ve used these flowers—they’re from one of Apollo’s love stories. They’re quite beautiful, if you ask me, and they fit the kingdom’s colors well.”

The King hums in response. “That’s interesting,” he finally tells you, looking down at Eridenus in front of you. You follow his gaze, staring down at the clear water as you feel your heart rise to your throat in anticipation. You don’t really know what you expect, but if you were preparing yourself for anything, it wasn’t the King saying, “It’s my understanding that you talk to Prince regularly, is that right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and lodges there along with your heart. “Well, I wouldn’t say—”

“I was speaking to Mr. Park just yesterday.” Oh. “You seem to be a very smart, professional young lady, and it shows in your work.” This can’t be good. “However, I am obligated to remind you: there are boundaries within these walls between the family and its staff.”

“Of course sir. I understand.”

The King watches you carefully, and just when you think he's done, he continues. “There are guards around the castle at all times. there isn't much they miss, I’m sure you know.” This isn't good. This really isn't good.

“It's quite impressive,” you agree, thumbs pressed against each other behind your back. You hear the king take a deep breath, and you wonder if he sucked the air out of you doing so.

"I've heard the pond here is named Eridenus.”

"Y-yes sir."

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Phaeton asked for a bit more than he could handle, didn’t he?" the King chuckles but you hardly hear it over the way your heart pounds. "Let mistakes be learned from, alright?"

You feel your knuckle might buckle. Is this how your mother felt? All those years ago?

The King’s words aren’t nearly as harsh as the advisor who berated your mother, but still, your body sways—you can’t tell if it’s all in your head with all the thoughts that race through, or if it’s the sheer weight of his words that has you almost stumbling.

“It was good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed what you’ve done with this space,” he comments finally, and you step away to face him

“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you bid, bowing as he turns and walks back to his assistants who whisk him away. You watch the King fade into the distance and disappear to the North end.

He spoke to you for a reason, and the King was right. You are smart. You are smart and professional, and tonight, you know exactly what you must do.

“We need to talk,” you state firmly, closing the door behind you in Joshua’s study. You’re supposed to tutor him tonight, and he doesn’t look up at you as he writes away in his notebook, a smirk making its way onto his face as he starts to speak.

“That’s all I get, Sunshine? No ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” he teases, but then he looks up at you and catches the grim look on your face and the sound of him dropping his pen echoes through the room. “What is it?”

He stands up so quickly that his chair falls down, but Joshua pays no mind to it, his hands gripping the end of his table as his eyes bore into yours. “What is it?” he asks again and this time he’s hissing it. You know he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but your heart sinks even further than you could imagine.

“Joshua,” and when you say it, your voice is meek. You shouldn’t cry over this—fuck, you hate crying, especially if it’s because of his people. You’ve done more than enough crying over them in your life—you can’t cry over any of this anymore.

“Sunshine, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Joshua eggs you on worriedly, moving away from his desk so he can walk over to you. One hand cups your cheek, and you’re struck by the realization that this is the most intimate he’s ever been with you.

What unfortunate circumstances, you think.

“Your father,” you say, having half a mind to push his hand away from your face, but you keep it there because you don’t think you’ll have the will to keep on talking if he’s not touching you.

“What about him?” Joshua asks hastily, grip on your jaw tightening.

“He knows, Joshua, he knows.”

“What are you talking about?” Joshua furrows his eyebrows and asks the question but there’s that voice in his head telling him that he already knows the answer.

“A guard saw us at the courtyard and—”

“We didn’t even do anything,” Joshua tries to protest and with just one look at his face, you can tell he’s trying to figure out ways to rebut whatever that stupid guard saw that night.

“Joshua, you know we can’t do anything about this,” you say exasperatedly, your voice a little louder now that you clutch the elbow of his arm that’s holding your face. “I overheard him talking to Mr. Park.”

Joshua’s eyes widen. “Mr. Park knows? What about your job? Are you going to get to finish the project? Are you—”

“Joshua,” you choke out, and for once you cannot stop your tears. “I don’t care about my goddamn project, I care about you.”

“You love that courtyard,” Joshua argues, and you wince at the way he’s still thinking about that damn courtyard. You brush his hand off of you and for a second it looks like his heart has just broken in two, but then you reach for his face and hold his cheeks with your own two hands.

His skin is smooth and supple with the light grain of stubble that itches against your palm near the underside of your jaw. “Joshua,” you whisper, and it’s now that you feel the warm drops of water hit your skin. Joshua is crying and you don’t think you’ve seen anything that saddens you more. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you beg, fruitlessly wiping away his tears as he silently cries into your hands.

“Why’re you acting like this is the end?” he hiccups and he must hate the sound because he slaps a hand over his mouth and buries his face into it.

“Joshua, no,” you murmur and pull him into you so that his hands can fall and you can cradle his head into your neck, letting your own tears drip onto the silk of his shirt. “It’s not the end,” you try to reason, but he pulls his head away to look down at you with glassy eyes.

“You—you’re lying to me,” Joshua says harshly.

“What are you talking about, I don’t—”

“I know you. I-I—fuck—I fucking know you,” he spits out, causing you to falter backwards. “Why do you think we can’t work this out? I’m the prince, I can—I can change everything and we can be together—”

“Your father —”

“Who gives a fuck, I’ll be king soon anyways and—”

“What if he does something?! What if he revokes your title?”

You’re met with stillness and you think Joshua might just comply with your silent plan but suddenly he’s shaking his head vigorously.

“Okay, then let him. I don’t care about being prince, I—”

“You can’t throw your life away Joshua, not for me!” you protest, holding his face again so you can focus his gaze on yours.

“It’s my life—why, why not?”

“Because I love you. And you can’t sacrifice this—this amazing life—for me!”

“I-I can’t—I don’t,” he stumbles and searches for words as tears fall from his lashes and roll down your hands, your wrists, your arms, “—can’t do it, not without you.”

“You’ve been doing it for years, Joshua, you’ll learn,” you tell him, using one hand to grip his cheek, the other to wipe away at your own.

“You don’t love me,” he chokes out. “You—you wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me.”

“Don’t say that, please.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes because you can’t bear to look at his tear-streaked cheeks any longer. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can’t help but think that this is the calm before the storm.

“We’ll work it out,” Joshua finally whispers, pulling his head back and cradling the back of your neck with his hands. You don’t say anything, and Joshua doesn’t give you the chance anyway. “Let me have you,” he begs. “We’ll work everything out and it’ll be okay,” he says over a strangled sob, “Just—just be with me tonight.”

And so when you nod, he wipes his tears and pokes his head out of the study to make sure the corridor is empty before tugging your wrist and pulling you to his room. It’s big and grand, just as you’d expect for the prince but Joshua doesn’t want you to look at the intricate walls or the tall ceilings or the golden furniture.

Joshua makes you focus on his burning touch and lets you explore his mouth, his body. And stripped, your bodies are so hot and with wet lips against sheen skin, you feel you might melt into each other’s bones.

Teeth against teeth, nails scraping against skin so hard it digs into the muscle, bruising holds, and sloppy kisses—the feeling is so intense and it crashes onto you and Joshua so hard that you have no other choice but to grip onto each other as you would a lifeline.

And your bodies move so languidly through the sheets, like waves against a shore, or like the wind whistling through the air, until you're trembling and drifting off in each others’ arms.

It would have been perfect. Perfect, if only Joshua had woken up and you were next to him.

Joshua is lost.

After a frantic hour of running around the palace, asking if anyone had seen you, looking for Seokmin to see if he had any answers, Joshua finds himself in the middle of Sol Invictus. And he racks his brain for answers, for a smidge of anything that gives him a reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t in his arms this morning.

Joshua is lost.

He’s staring at the ground now, and all Joshua can wonder is if it was all a dream. If that moment you both looked out his glass window at the stars before you kissed him on his bed was just a figment of his imagination.

He wonders if you actually did thread your soft fingers through his messy hair and hold him close as both hit your peaks together, and he wonders if your lips really did ghost over his skin as he drifted off into sleep.

Joshua almost doesn’t feel Advisor Lee’s hand on his shoulder. He only hears his voice, really, and when he does, the sound grates against his ears.

“She’s gone.” Advisor Lee’s voice has always been harsh, and Joshua wonders how the same man could’ve produced something—someone—as lovely as Seokmin.

“What are you talking about?” Joshua is good at feigning ignorance, but his voice still quivers.

“I know. Your father and mother know too.”

Joshua is lost.

Joshua’s eyes snap up and suddenly his hands are at Advisor Lee’s collar. When the older man doesn’t seem surprised, Joshua sags. “What the fuck do you know. What—” He inhales sharply as he lets go and steps back, inching closer to Eridenus. “—what did you do to her?”

“She left herself.”

“What are—” Joshua heaves. “What?”

He’s doing it before he even realizes it. Stumbling toward Eridenus with his lungs and heart mushed together so tight he’s got a hole in his chest, Joshua steps over the stone lining and crashes into the shallow water.

Seokmin’s face pales when he walks in on the scene. Coming into the courtyard from the South end, he sees Joshua’s figure before he even recognizes it’s him.

That’s not Joshua, he thinks as he watches his father stand in front of Eridenus where the prince sits. That’s not Joshua.

Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp and his eyes are bright. Joshua’s smile is full and his hands are always ready to love.

This isn’t Joshua, and Seokmin feels it in his gut when he approaches Eridenus.

Joshua sits in the middle of the pond. His knees are bent and the cold water stops at the middle of his chest, leaving the upper third of his body dry. His royal coat and velvet pants, his polished shoes and silk button up, are submerged and rub against the algae coated rocks on the bottom of Eridenus.

Advisor Lee doesn’t speak as Seokmin stands next to him, Eridenus in front of the two with the prince in the middle. Joshua doesn’t say a thing. In fact, it seems like he doesn’t even know Seokmin is here now. His neck is tilted down and he stares at his soaked slacks blankly.

Seokmin is stunned.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp but now they are hunched over and hardly moving, even as he breathes short breaths through his pale lips.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s eyes are always bright but now they are dull and dead. Seokmin knows Joshua’s eyes are always bright, but he failed to realize what exactly it was that was lighting them up.

Seokmin thought it was the sun but he was wrong, because even now, as Joshua sits under broad daylight, he is still and his eyes are dull.

Two weeks since you’ve seen Joshua’s face and you miss his smile.

You miss his smile, the one that crinkles up all the way to his eyes when he laughs at one of your snarky comments. The one that shines his teeth and the one that seemed to never leave your sight when you were with him.

You miss his smile, but his laugh still rings in your ear, early in the mornings when you blink awake and late in the nights when you gasp in hearty breaths and try not to cry. When you take the walk through the city to your work at Mr. Min’s bookshop, the ringing of the street vendors’ bells are bright and cheery, and sometimes you can hear Joshua’s laugh in the mix.

One month since Joshua last looked you in the eye and he wishes he didn’t know why you left. He wishes he was oblivious, because then he could be angry at you—he could have a reason to forget, to move on, to stop loving you.

Joshua knows why you left and it hurts more than anything because this is nothing like a betrayal at all. You left because you love him, and Joshua cannot dispute that—not now, not ever.

Sometimes he walks through Sol Invictus and plucks a hyacinth, letting it blow off into the wind. He hopes you’ll find the lost petals one day.

Two months since you’ve been in the castle and your life is normal. Well, as normal as it can get for you.

Your first semester of the new year started a few days ago, and you’ve since moved into an apartment near your campus. Your mother thinks it’ll be good for you, and you understand her sentiment but you don’t think she understands.

Ironic, you think. You’ve gone full circle, really. Maybe it does run in your blood, like all the whispers said.

You realize you’re okay with that. Maybe you made a mistake with Joshua, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you almost royally fucked up your reputation more than it already was (thankfully, the Royal Counsel was better at keeping it under the wraps this time), maybe no one cares. Maybe your life is a little bit more messed up now, but again—you’re okay with that.

You miss Joshua. You don’t think you’ll ever stop missing him. You’re also okay with that. You’re starting to realize that you’re okay with pretty much anything when it comes to Joshua. And once again, you’re okay with that.

Six months since he’s seen you and Joshua’s chest aches. Partly because he was distracted during fencing and took a jab straight in the middle but mostly because he misses you.

He stands on the balcony of the royal dining hall, waiting for lunch to be served as he looks over the palace and the kingdom that spread beyond. Joshua sees the tall buildings, the rows of houses, and the infamous Hong University that lay in the middle of the commontown around the hill the castle sits on, and he wonders.

You told him you’d be taking an astronomy class this semester, which should have started a month ago. Joshua is old enough and smart enough to know that collegiate astronomy is more than just the moon and the sun and the pretty little dots that button the sky, but still, he wonders.

The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.

Will you think about him?

Joshua doesn’t need to wonder—he knows.

The sun is bright today and even though it’s winter, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. It’s a bit of a rare occurrence for the cold months, but Joshua doesn’t mind. When he looks at the blue sky and briefly glances at the sun, his shadow on the stone floor, the reflection of light against the railing, Joshua breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs deeply.

He knows.

Eight months and you still hear Joshua’s laugh.

You hear it when wind whistles in your ear as you walk to a flower shop to buy a pot. You hear it when you look up at the sun and imagine you’re in the middle of Sol Invictus. You hear it when you crouch down on your balcony, placing the little hyacinth into the pot and packing soil around the base.

You miss Joshua, you miss his smile, and more than anything, you miss his laugh. Right now, as you bathe in the memories of a man so far yet so close, you realize that you can miss him all you want, but you won’t forget. You can’t ever forget.

Ten months later and Joshua’s chest still aches, but he’s okay with that.

He sucks in heavy breaths as his lungs search for air on the fencing match, his trainer leaving the room, leaving Joshua after his request to take a break. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Joshua hardly hears the door behind him open.

“Mingyu told me you’ve been struggling with fencing recently,” his mother says, approaching him. Joshua shuffles in his fencing gear, throwing his helmet to the side.

“I’ve just hit a stump.”

“Something tells me this is more than just a stump,” she inquires as Joshua kicks off his boots.

Joshua scoffs, “What makes you say that?”

“Joshua, what’s wrong?”

He pauses, about to pull off his gloves when he looks up at the Queen. “Everyone in the Royal Counsel knows. I’m sure you know too.”

His mother sighs heavily when he stands up, and she follows him out the training room and toward the Residency Quart. There’s a silence that gaps the mother and son—not that Joshua isn’t used to it. He still smiles and grins, he hugs and he bows, and oftentimes it is genuine, but there’s a silence that always follows. A silence that he never forgets.

A silence he holds when he watches the same kitten you held cross his path when he walks through Sol Invictus, slightly bigger but just as nimble and heart warming. A silence he holds when his eyes gloss over the set of Percy Jackson books in the shelves of his room. A silence he holds when he sinks into his covers and presses his nose to the sheets, wondering if he’ll ever be able to taste your skin on his tongue again.

“I won’t ever understand what went on between you two,” his mother finally says.

“There isn’t anything for you to understand,” Joshua tells her, heading towards his room, but his mother stops him and he narrows his eyes. “What? I felt bad for her, alright? When I saw her all those years ago when it all happened out in the gardens—”

“Joshua, what are you talking about?”

“That’s what you want to know, right? Why I talked to her? Why I—I love her?” His mother gives him a stern look, but Joshua doesn’t relent. He’s starting to realize he’s been too comfortable with this silence. “I never asked you to understand it, but I’ll tell you anyway. Maybe because I pitied her or felt sorry for her or all the same stuff, and maybe I didn’t think she deserved to be ostracized for something she never did but—whatever. I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you to leave it alone.”

“You’re my son, Joshua.”

The Queen is Joshua’s mother and she doesn’t understand. She may never understand, and Joshua is okay with that because if he’s being honest, he doesn't think anyone will ever understand. He’s okay with that too.

You will understand, and for him, that’s enough.

You get two letters from the Royal Counsel in your lifetime. You received the first over a year ago—the one you opened with Mr. Min standing across from you in his little bookstore under dingy lights and over the dusty counter. The one you crumpled up and tossed into the dustbin without as much as a second though. The one that led you down a long, winding path which brought you to Joshua.

You receive the second now, standing in your apartment as you look down, except this time you aren’t staring at a paper, you’re staring at the screen of your laptop. You giggle quietly to yourself; Joshua must have taken the Royal Counsel up on still sending letters.

You’ve only looked at the subject of the email so far. It’s got your name and the word “request” written in bold, and you wonder what they want.

Glossing over the text, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. “The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.” Same shit, huh? “You will have the opportunity to lead a project as you please and earn a notable compensation in payment for your efforts.” Yeah, pretty much.

It’s the same thing, you realize. They want you back—for what, you aren’t sure, but you have a feeling that it doesn’t really matter. Because signed, at the bottom of the email isn’t the usual, “Hong Royal Counsel,” but instead is, “Hong Royal Family.”

The little sun emblem sits below the signatures of the King and Queen, and you press your eyes shut and hold the screen close to your chest, silently praying under your breath that is not a dream.

You don’t know what happened, don’t know what Joshua told them, but to be frank, you don’t care. You’re smart enough to read between the lines.

I don’t understand, they're telling you, But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

It’s your first day at the castle. Well, your second first day.

When you park your car at the base of the hill, you smile down at the silk over your waist. You abandoned the new ribbon sent to you by the Court, instead donning the one that came to you in a little white box ten months ago. Sometimes, when you hold it close enough, you still think you can smell Joshua’s skin.

You wonder how long you’ll have to wait for him, but as you look up at the sky, you have your answer.

Something speaks to you when you return to 77. Mr. Park is still gruff and cranky but you swear you see the peek-a-boo of a smile on his lips when you walk in. Jihoon’s there too, he greets you regularly.

And of course there’s Seokmin who is hugging you so tight, it reminds you that he is a full grown man and not a child trapped in a large body. You think he almost cries when he laughs with you about how he almost killed the yarrows again (but he brought them back to life! Trust!), and then he beams and tells you that you gotta check out Sol Invictus.

It’s beautiful.

Bright hyacinths that line from east to west and your heart is happy because Seokmin told you he’d get everyone to finish planting them and he did. The purple petals let wind whistle through its stems and leaves, the rustling echoing off the walls of the castle that surround Sol Invictus.

The water of Eridenus gleams under the sun, the stone of your pathways glows brightly, and as your eyes flicker around, you notice something new. In each corner field of Sol Invictus, sits a medium sized sculpture, each of a pegasus but all slightly different in pose and manner.

And then you see him, his back facing you, standing in front of one of the statues that sits in one of the fields on the west end.

Walk the line.

Tracing the pathways—your pathway—from East to West with your shoes clacking their short heels against the tiles—you know he can hear you, but still, he doesn’t move. His hands are neatly holding each other behind his back as his neck tilts slightly upward to stare up at the pegasus.

“Aethon, Aeos, Pyrois, and Phlegon,” Joshua says when you finally stop next to him, shoulders barely brushing against each other. “This one is Pyrois.”

“Helios’ pegasi,” you murmur, glossing over the fine details and intricacies of the statue.

“I thought you might like them.”

You don’t say anything for a moment and grin, watching his eyes light up from the corner of your vision. “I love them.”

“Thank god. You were taking so long to respond, I thought you were going to yell at me for fucking up Sol Invictus.”

You laugh and shake your head, both of you shuffling as you face each other.

“Hi,” you say so lightly it comes out as a breathy laugh when you both finally look each other in the eye.

“Sunshine.” Joshua smiles, holding out his hand. The light is warm when it hits your skin, and Joshua’s dark hair glints a light brown under the beams. You take his hand and run your fingers over the calluses of his palm; his skin is warm when his fingers grasp around yours and as you look at his eyes, you feel it in your bones.

This is Joshua, this is Joshua, and every path you follow will always lead you back to him.

find an alternate ending here!

edit. thanks 4 making it this far! if ur interested i expand on the concept of an isohel more here and little tidbits here, and it's honestly just a ramble but i hope it makes clear why i made some decisions w the story if ur interested :3 a/n. aaah it's done! as per em's request, i will be posting a one-shot of these two and their lives in the future bc i feel like i robbed u guys of a possibly fluffier ending so keep an eye out for that ... anyways, i hope u enjoyed, comments / reblogs would mean the world to me and >_< thank u for reading!

taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @nishloves @woozarts (strikethrough could not be tagged)

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mo-aiki · 8 months

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Carson Langell, Heir to Earl Langell

Summary: Your childhood best friend was always a weird one, but you still loved him as a best friend none the less.

Warning: stalking, obessive behavior, never backing down when no is implied, I don't condone it, I just write it.

A/N: THIS ART IS NOT MINE IT'S THE MALE LEAD OF THE SECOND LIFE OF THE TRASH PRINCESS.

Connected to Yandere Isekai M. Characters x F. Reader

Carson has always loved you. Your families close from each other father's friendship and how well your mothers got along. He always remembered summertime at your manor. Playing as the princess who was protected by you, the knight from the dragons that were your servants. Spending days coloring and drawing, and reading books about fairytale romances. Sleeping together and always having sleepovers. He loved it.

He also loved your personality. You were mean to everyone but him. You always treated him with kindness and utmost importance. You cared for him if he fell down off a tree and got his knees badly scraped. If he got scarred by your family's hunting dogs, you would chase the dogs off somewhere where they won't bother him. If he got sick, you would care for him.

At some point, he realized something. After seeing your smiles and hearing your kind words, only for him, he realized what was happening to him. His ears blushed, his face felt hot, his heart beat at a quicker pace, and he felt like his tongue got tied every time he talked to you. At 8 years old, he finally realized something.

He realized he loved you more than a friend.

He will always see you as someone he always wanted to be near and close with.

He will make sure of it.

A strange boy came into your manor one day. His carriage, noble and opulent to look at. He thought nothing of it until he saw you talking to the boy, smiling and acting nice like you would with him. You laughed and smiled and talked absolute nonsense at times, like you did with him. The boy's expression looked like he hated it. How ungrateful.

To be graced with your presence and to ignore it because you find her boring? How dare he?!

It was also then when he found out from the butler that he was her betrothed. "What does betrothed mean?"

"Betrothed means to get married in the future, young master Langell."

Married in the future. A dream. His father told him once before. Marriage meant being together forever with the one you love. But right now, you were being forced to be with that boy for the rest of your life?!

He will not allow that!

He would never allow that!

He started being more clingy towards you, especially with that boy around. Always vying for your attention to grace him instead of that boy. But your behavior towards that boy was no help.

Yelling at girls who kept on talking to him, dumping that dark grape juice on their dress, you proved yourself to be completely enamored with him, and he didn't like that. He thought that he could've proved himself and get you to ditch him for him, but it didn't matter when he felt like he was losing.

How can you ditch him for that other boy just because of maybe looks? What did you like about him?

His looks? He thought he was pretty ugly.

His personality? He thought he was a trashy person.

His title? He doesn't remember it, but maybe it's because it wasn't very important.

But more importantly, what did that boy have that he didn't?

The day you had gotten the high fever, he felt like the world was going to end. The minute he had gotten that letter, he was freaking out big time. He hated how he felt hapless and uncontrolled. His little tricks didn't work when you were sick for 3 days. That boy came by, and he looked so different.

After you had woken up, you changed for the worse.

You stopped acting distant towards people and, instead, treated them with kindness. Helping the maids with their personal situations, talking more to everybody in noble society, being more open and more approachable. Everything changed after that day.

That stupid guy who he thought was worse than him all of a sudden was paying attention to you. Bring you gifts, his hand on your waist, kissing your hand, directly, holding hands with you, and dancing closely with you on the dance floor.

Which led him to up his game. Being pitiful. Being purposefully weak, sickly (from standing in the rain), and being injured to show you his pitiful side. It worked. Well.

It gave him excuses to be closer to you. To lay on your lap because he felt weak, to cling onto you because he was tired, and to always be cared for, by you.

But one day, you had gotten a guard. And not just any guard. It was the hero of the Bloody 10 Year war. He recalled seeing him at his ceremonial ball, meant for his victory against the rebelling state. Why would he want the position of a guard for a small count family. instead of a title of marquis, he doesn't know.

But he sure knows that he is truly annoying. Always being near. His job was to be near and protect you at all times, from a distance, not right directly in his face. That guard dog was annoying and some how even more clingy than him.

The men before him, were no competition, but now he had 2 rivals battling for her affection.

"(n/n)! I have a headache! Please help me!"

The day he had overheard your annulment talk, he was so happy. He was elated. He could finally have his chance with you.

He could give you the sweetest desserts from your favorite bakery, give you a field's worth of roses, a million kisses everywhere (I mean everywhere), and be the shoulder for you to cry on.

He could be your soulmate if you just let him.

"I need to prepare a bunch of roses and some sweets, maybe I should go ring shopping while at it..."

A/N: I'm trying to get all 3 guys released before I truly do commission work. But still. Did you enjoy it?

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere childhood friend x reader #yandere childhood friend

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quaithe-seastar · 5 months

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The Dragon's Gold

Chapter Two

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Aerys Reyne (male oc)

Summary: Aerys Reyne, son of Naerys Targaryen, the second-born daughter of King Viserys and Queen Aemma, has been best friends with Aegon since childhood. As boys, they had been inseparable. Many said that it reminded them of the early days of King Jaehaerys reign. When the princes Aemon and Baelon were still children. Wherever one boy was, it wasn't long before the other came running behind him. That was until forbidden desires of the heart forced a wedge between them. After the death of his grandsire, King Viserys, Aerys finds himself torn between two sides: stand by his oldest friend or stand by the only mother he has ever known.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI), Smut between two women, prostitution, underage drinking, implied underage smut (nothing too graphic), incest, Otto Hightower, and homophobia.

a/n: I want to clarify that Aerys is the same age as Aegon. Dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. Though, there may be some high valyrian thrown in here and there. No beta, so I apologize for any or all grammar and spelling mistakes.

Aerys

Aerys curled himself deeper into his blankets. His eyes remained glaring at the stony walls of his chambers. The boy's stomach ached from refusing to eat his supper earlier. The room was dark and there was a slight chill in the air. Only the moonlight coming from the window lit up the cold gray stone walls. It had been an entire day since Rhaenyra had departed with her family. Hours since Aerys had moved from his bed. He had hoped to sleep his despair away, but it seemed like sleep was determined to evade him. The castle was quiet, too quiet for the boy. Everyone has most likely gone to sleep by now. Yet Aerys remained wide awake, to mull over his sad thoughts.

Since he was a little boy, Rhaenyra had been the only mother he had ever known. Having lost both of his parents at the ripe age of four. He could remember his mother’s voice, but her face was becoming a fading memory in his mind. Nyra had the ring with his mother’s portrait commissioned for his thirteenth name day. It was his most prized possession. Aerys also had many portraits of his parents that he had made himself, but he was never pleased with them. They always felt like they were missing something.

The slight creek of his chamber door freed him from his mind. Assuming it was a maid, he remained glaring at the gray stone wall, in hopes they would go away. Aerys let out a soft grunt as something collided with his back. The young man quickly sat up, turning to find the assailant. Aegon stood at the end of the bed dressed in beggar clothes. It was not an unfamiliar sight for Aerys. Aegon had stood at the bottom of Aerys’ bed and begged him to join him in his adventures many times.

“Put them on,” Aegon whispered.

Aerys turned his head down. There was a brown sack lying at his side. He began to pull the contents out of the bag. It was a disguise similar to the one Aegon wore. Aerys dropped the clothes on his lap.

“Aegon, I can’t-”

“No!” He whispered harshly. His face was scrunched up in anger. “I understand you are upset about Rhaenyra, but that is exactly why you must come. To get your mind off of it. Besides, how would you live with yourself if something happened to me? Something that you could have prevented if you came with me.”

“You've gone out alone plenty of times,” Aerys scoffed.

“So? Now, get dressed.”

Aerys rolled his eyes before getting out of bed. Perhaps Aegon was right. He needed to clear his head before his sadness consumed him. Aerys quickly changed into the clothes Aegon had given him. The Targaryen prince gave him a nod before motioning him to take his hand. The pair quickly and quietly made their way out of the room. They slipped into a nearby storage closet that had a hidden entrance to one of the castle's many secret passages. The two boys moved a large cart out of the way before placing their hands on the wall. They turned to each other and gave a nod. The two pushed with all the force they could muster until the wall gave in. The two nearly toppled over each other. Aerys was quickly able to grab Aegon's cloak, saving the boy from landing face-first on the ground.

The two boys shared a glance before slapping their hands over their mouths to stifle their laughter. Aegon took Aerys by the hand before leading them through the tunnel. Aerys was unsure of where they were. He didn’t have nearly as much experience using the secret passages as Aegon did. So he quietly let Aegon lead him forward. It wasn’t long before they came to the room that held the skull of Balerion, also known as The Black Dread. The dragon of Aegon the Conqueror, Maegor the Cruel, Princess Aerea, and King Viserys. Though his grandsire only rode the great dragon once, before he died of old age. Oh, what Aerys would give to have been able to simply look at Balerion in his prime.

In the darkness, it felt as though something was watching him. His eyes lingered on the skull as they passed. For a second he could have sworn he saw black eyes staring back at him. Aerys shook his head. His old wet nurse used to tell him that shadows liked to play tricks on the minds of men.

It didn’t take long before they made it outside of the castle gates. Aegon held onto Aerys’ hand as he led him through the crowded streets. The stench was the first thing to hit him. The city smelled of smoke, wine, piss, and what he could only assume was sex. Despite being so late into the night, the city seemed more alive than ever. A stark contrast to the dark quiet castle. There were hordes of people everywhere. Men clustered together as they drank and sang old songs of war. Men pulled women into their laps to fondle them. Women wearing scandalous dresses that left nothing to the imagination. Musicians were seated against the walls as they performed for all the see. The two boys came to a halt as a fight broke out before them. Aegon pulled Aerys to the side to keep him out of the way. One of the men dropped to the ground. He was quickly surrounded by people picking through his pockets.

It was all so thrilling. He could hear hundreds of different conversations all going on at once. As they turned the corner there was a woman on the ground on all fours as a man pumped inside her from the back. Her back arched as she moaned in pleasure. A deep blush crept onto his face. Never in his life had he seen such a sight. Aegon had told him many stories over the last two years since he began sneaking out of the castle, but now he was seeing it all for himself. Even as they passed the couple they did not stop, both eager to reach their climax.

“Riveting, isn’t it?” Aegon whispered into his ear.

Aerys gave him a shy nod. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

They squeezed their way through another crowded street.

“Out of the way boy!” A drunkard growled as he brushed past Aerys.

Multiple women leaned against the stone walls. Their dresses hiked up, flaunting their smooth legs. They waved and called out flirtatiously to all the men who passed. Their looks ranged from young to old, thin to large, tall to short, yellow-haired to raven-haired, pale-skinned to dark ebony.

The two came to a set of wide-opened doors of a two-story building. The entrance was lit up by two ornate lamps of gilded metal and emerald glass. The overwhelming scent of incense filled his nose. Men and women were constantly flowing in and out of the building. Aerys quickly realized it was a pleasure house. They made their way inside. From the entrance of the door, it was a straight shot to the common room. The room was filled with tapestries, colorful curtains, and rugs. Multiple women lounged upon cushioned alcoves. Some were seated on the laps of their patrons, grinding their bodies together, laughing at whatever the men whispered to them as if it were the funniest thing in the world. Some were intertwined with one another, sensually running their hands over each other.

An older woman approached the two of them. She had long yellow hair that reached past her hips. Her body was tall and lean. The two had to look up to meet her eyes. They were blue. They matched the dress she wore. She had a long aquiline nose, high cheekbones, and plump rosy lips. Her skin seemed to have a warm tan to it. The dress pushed her rather large bosoms up for display. Aerys blushed as he returned his eyes to her face.

“It’s been a while,” she smiled.

“Yes, it has. This is my friend's first time in the city. I want to make sure he enjoys himself.” Aegon said proudly as he wrapped his arm around Aerys’ shoulder.

“Of course. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” The woman asked.

Her soft honeyed voice was almost heavenly. Aerys believed he could listen to her speak for hours on end. Aegon moved towards the woman who leaned down. He whispered something into her ear that made her laugh. Aerys nervously clenched his hands into fists. There was no telling what Aegon was whispering to her, and the mystery unnerved him. The two finally pulled away from each other. Aegon moved back to Aerys' side.

“Right away my prince. For now, let me have one of my girls escort you to your room. Willa!” The woman called out.

A young woman approached them. Aerys assumed this was Willa. She was a pretty-looking woman. Her long brown hair was thick and curly. Large brown eyes stared at him apprehensively. They reminded him of a doe. A sweet little doe. She placed her hands on her hips in a seductive manner, but he could tell she was tense. Her baby pink dress showed off her voluptuous figure. She was tall and round, but not unpleasantly so. Her skin was a beautiful copper color that seemed to glow under the candlelight.

“Take these two gentlemen to a room.” The yellow-haired woman instructed.

“Of course, this way gentlemen.” Willa batted her eyelashes as she walked ahead of them.

Aegon intertwined their fingers, pulling Aerys along. They made their way up a set of stairs, careful to avoid the woman who leaned against the rails of the staircase. Many of them playfully toyed with his hair as he passed. Willa led them down a hall. The hall was filled with multiple rooms on both sides. Some doors were closed but you could very clearly hear what was going on inside. Some were open with women leaning seductively against the door frames. And then there were some open with small crowds of people inside watching as men pounded away at the women beneath them.

Aegon squeezed his hand, recapturing Aerys' attention. There was a wide smirk on his face as he looked at Aerys' flustered face. Willa led them down another hallway. This one was much quieter, with fewer rooms. All the rooms were dark and empty. She led them to the end of the hall, pushing open a beautifully carved door. The squared room was beautiful. It was lit up by lamps of gilded metal and decorated with colorful jewels. In the center of the room was a large canopy bed. The bed was covered with maroon and purple silks and velvet blankets. The floor was covered with purple rugs. The stone walls of the room were covered with colorful tapestries of nude women.

“Fetch us some wine!” Aegon commanded Willa as he removed his cloak.

“Right away,” the woman nodded before taking her leave.

Aerys waited for the door to close before speaking.

“What did you tell the woman downstairs?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Aegon let out a bored sigh as he walked over to Aerys. His fingers began tugging at the string of Aerys’ cloak.

“It’s a surprise, Aerys. Consider it a gift from your dear uncle.”

“A gift?” Aerys scoffed.

“Yes, a gift. Now quit squirming, I’m trying to get this off you.”

Aegon let out a shout of triumph as the cloak fell to the floor. The Targaryen prince moved to sit on the bed. He pulled off his tunic and kicked off his boots. He moved to lean against the headboard, resting on a mountain of pillows.

“Well come on, or do you plan on standing the entire evening?”

Aerys nodded before following suit. His skin prickled with goosebumps as the night air hit his skin. There was a quick knock at the door before it opened. Willa returned holding a tray with a flagon of wine and two glasses. Behind her came the yellowed-haired woman and two more people. It was hard for Aerys to discern if they were men or women. They wore thick black cloaks with hoods that concealed their faces. Willa set the tray down on the table next to the bed. She poured the wine and handed it to them. The yellow-haired woman dismissed her once she was done. Aerys found himself watching her until she disappeared behind the door.

“Gentlemen, I introduce you to the lovely ladies, Melira and Serenei.” The yellow-haired woman announced with a smile.

The two figures unlaced their cloaks before dropping them to the ground. The dark cloaks pooled at their feet. The first thing Aerys noticed was their beautiful silver hair. They had pale blue eyes, even prettier than the older woman beside them. As his eyes trailed down Aerys suddenly became aware of their nakedness.

“Two beauties from the island of Lys. Maidens, just as you asked.”

“They will do. Leave us.”

The yellow-haired woman bowed before leaving, pulling the door closed behind her. Aerys tried his best to look at their faces. Aegon jumped to his feet. He circled the two women, inspecting them. The shorter woman was around Aegon’s height while the other stood a head taller. The prince turned his head to gauge his reaction. Aerys cast his eyes down to the wine in his glass.

“Don’t be such a prude Aerys! Feast your eyes upon their beauty,” Aegon proclaimed as he fondled the shorter one’s breast from behind. “It’s what I bought them for. Which one are you?”

“Serenei, my prince.” The woman gasped as his fingers toyed with her nipples.

“Alright,” Aegon sighed. “My friend is new to this sort of thing. I want you both to put on a nice show for us.”

“Of course, my prince.” They both answered.

Aegon moved back to his spot on the bed. The two women crawled onto the bed. They sat on their knees at the edge of the bed. The taller one moved first. Pulling Serenei in for a kiss. Sweet simple pecks at first before they became longer and more passionate. Serenei moaned against Melira’s lips. Their hands pawed at one another. Gently caressing each other's breasts. Melira’s chest was much larger than Serenei’s. The shorter woman pulled back, getting on her hands and knees. She lowered her head to take one of Melira’s nipples in her mouth. Melira threw her head back slightly, moaning at the sensation. She trailed her nails down Serenei’s back. While she used the other to hold the woman’s head.

“Lovely aren’t they?” Aegon whispered into Aerys’ ear.

Aerys could only respond with a nod. He shifted in his seat as he watched Serenei dip a hand between the other woman’s legs. Her arm moved back and forth as she played with the woman’s cunt. Melira let out a loud moan before pushing the woman away. Serenei giggled as she fell onto her back, spreading her legs from Melira to crawl between them.

“Would you like me to taste her, my prince?” Melira asked.

“I’m not sure. Aerys, would you like that?” Aegon asked.

Aerys' face felt like it was on fire. No doubt his cheeks were as red as blood. The two women looked at him, giggling.

“Umm, I-I don’t...”

“Relax Aerys,” Aegon laughed. “Go ahead, taste her.”

The two carried on with what they were doing. Melira kissed down the woman’s body until her face reached her cunt.

“She’s so wet, my prince.” Melira moaned.

Aerys raised his cup to his lips, enjoying the warmth of the wine as it went down. He moved his cup towards Aegon, who was quick to fill it up again. And so the night carried on. The two boys watched as the women played with each other. Aerys was unsure of how long it had been. The wine had begun to cloud his mind long ago. There seemed to be no end to it. As soon as he finished a glass more appeared. Now it was Serenei between Melira’s legs. Her thin fingers pumping inside the woman’s sopping cunt. Feeling eyes on him, Aerys turned his head to find Aegon watching him.

“What?” Aerys asked, raising his glass to his lips. He cursed as he felt the liquid run down his chin.

“You’ve got a little...here.” Aegon laughed, pointing an unsteady finger toward the side of his mouth.

Aerys poked out his tongue, licking the corner of his mouth. “There?”

“No,” Aegon giggled. “Other side, other side.”

Aerys rolled his eyes as he moved his tongue to the other side. He could taste the slight bitterness of the spilled wine. “There, I think I got it.”

He turned his head to find Aegon glaring at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion. Had he done something? They were just fine a minute ago. He parted his lips to speak but something else happened. Aegon leaned in, capturing Aerys’ lips with his own. Dazed, Aerys found himself reciprocating. He felt Aegon slip his tongue into his mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The bitter aftertaste of the wine lingered much stronger on his tongue. Aerys' body responded to Aegon’s affection before his mind could. His hands gripped the Targaryen prince’s hips pulling him closer. They both groaned as their bare chests pressed against each other.

As Aerys felt Aegon's hand slip down between his legs his mind quickly caught up to speed. He jerked his head back, finally breaking the kiss. Aegon tried to lean forward to reconnect but stopped when Aerys placed a hand on his chest.

“What? What happened?” He asked, his violet eyes shifting between Aerys’ eyes and lips.

“What are you- what are we doing?” Aerys swallowed, pressing his hand harder against Aegon's chest to keep him at bay.

“You taste sweet,” Aegon hummed.

“Aegon we- we can’t be doing that.”

“Why?” He frowned as if he was confused as to why what they just did was wrong.

If this were any other circumstance Aerys would have found it adorable.

“Because it’s- it’s wrong.”

“How is it wrong?”

“Because we- we’re family.”

“So? In case you haven’t noticed this is something quite common in our family.”

“We’re both men! It’s wicked and immoral.”

“Ser Laenor fancy’s men. Do you find him wicked or immoral?”

“No, I-. . . that’s not what I’m saying...” Aerys murmured.

He felt Aegon slip his fingers under his chin, lifting his head. Aerys stared into those warm familiar violet eyes. Something he had done many times before.

“This is not wrong, Aerys. It’s just a kiss. We’ve done it once before, you liked it then too.” Aegon smiled, tracing his thumb over Aerys’ lips. “I won’t take it any further than you allow, I swear it. I just...want to kiss you.”

Aerys could feel his self-control melting away.

“Just...kissing right?”

“Just kissing.” Aegon agreed.

Aerys gave a small nod, dropping his hand from the prince’s chest. His body was tense as Aegon leaned in once more, reconnecting their lips. It was awkward at first until Aegon's fingers slipped into his hair. Something that had always calmed him down. Aegon slipped his tongue back between Aerys' lips. And without hesitation, Aerys found his hands gripping onto Aegon's waist pulling him closer. The two women had been forgotten until Aerys felt one move behind him. Her bare breasts were pressed against his chest as she moved her hand to his hair to take Aegon’s place. Aegon pulled his head back.

“Get out!” He hissed.

The two women froze in confusion, until he raised his voice, ordering them out a second time. “Out!”

The two quickly grabbed their cloaks before sprinting out of the room.

“That was cruel,” Aerys giggled.

“I’ll make sure they’re well compensated,” Aegon smirked, as he moved onto his knees.

Aerys scooted his body down a bit so he could be more comfortable. His neck was slightly sore from leaning against the headboard for so long. Aegon crawled between his legs. His hands were placed on both sides of Aerys' head. He bent down and their lips met with such lustful urgency. Aerys pushed Aegon away just enough to roll over on top of him without breaking the kiss. He pressed his tongue deep inside the Targaryen prince’s mouth, taking control.

“I want you,” Aegon mumbled against his lips as they finally parted ways.

He cast his eyes downwards, refusing to look Aerys in the eyes. His voice was soft and timid, no longer holding its usual smug and insouciant tone. Aerys was unsure of what he wanted to do. He had never been with a man before, or anyone for that matter. Sex was never something he was interested in before now. Aegon would often tell him of the many late-night trysts he had with women on the street of silk, but he had never mentioned any men. Aerys wondered if he had ever been with one. And even more concerning for the young man, he found himself growing jealous at the thought of another man touching him like this.

“Are you sure?” There was a slight slur to his voice, another sign of the wine taking effect. “I’ve never-”

“I know Aerys...but I want this. I want to do this together. We’ve always done everything together.”

Aegon gave him a sweet smile. His fingertips trailed from the mole on Aerys’ right cheek down to his chin, pulling him down to kiss him again this time deeper, slower, hungrier.

Aerys felt Aegon dig his fingers into his hips and pull him closer, their clothed middles pressed against each other. He pulled back with a hiss but still rested his forehead against Aegons. Aerys rolled his hips closer, enjoying the feeling of Aegon’s nails digging into his skin. The night was just beginning for the two.

—

The candles in the room had burned out. The streets were beginning to quiet down, as dawn approached. The two boys were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Aegon rested his head against Aerys' chest, still fast asleep. However, once again Aerys’ mind had refused to let him rest. Aegon had opened the window shutters before he fell asleep, allowing the night air and moonlight to come through. He did not know what to think about what they had just done, but years of hearing how wrong it was began weighing down on him. Yet he could not bring himself to say he regretted it. In truth, he had never experienced something so thrilling, so...addicting.

“You're thinking too loud, it disturbed me from my slumber.”

“How inconsiderate,” Aerys smiled. “You have my apology.”

Aegon pushed himself up, shifting all his weight onto his elbow. His cold, long fingers sent a chill down Aerys’ spine, as they trailed down his chest.

“An apology? So gracious of you, perhaps you deserve a reward.”

Aerys’ face was burning something fierce, as Aegon's soft lips trailed kisses down his stomach.

“Do you want me to stop?” Aegon asked.

Aerys wanted anything but.

“No, keep going...please.” His face burned hotter.

His mind and body both begging to be touched. To feel those cold fingers trace every inch of his skin.

“I think I like it when you beg,” Aegon purred, his nails dug into the boy's skin. Dragging from his chest down to his hips.

Aerys let out a heavy sigh. The slight sting only added to the pleasure. His back arched against the dragon prince’s touch. Aerys’ stomach was filled with anticipation of what was to come. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, beating loudly against her ears. Aerys’ hands clenched tightly at the blanket, unsure of what to do with them. His hips bucked at the feeling of Aegon's warm breath against the skin of his lower stomach.

The sound of a loud bang and splintering wood made them jump in fear. The carved oak door creaked loudly, having nearly been knocked off its hinges. The two boys were frozen, their eyes wide with shock and horror. There at the entrance of the room stood a knight wearing the colors of House Hightower, and Otto Hightower himself. Staring at the two boys with nearly the same expression. Though in his eyes there was something dark, something almost malevolent.

“Grandfather, I-I didn’t know you were here. How did you find us?” Aegon asked, his voice shaky.

“Get dressed!” The man snarled, a look of disgust covering his face. “Both of you!”

The two boys quickly jumped away from each other. Roughly pulling on their clothes as fast as they could. Once they were done they stood a great distance apart, staring at their feet. The older man said nothing as he turned and left the room, his cape swishing behind him. The unknown knight growled at the two boys, motioning them to follow. Not a word was spoken as they followed the reinstated hand of the king. Aerys grew confused and anxious. The way he was leading them was not the way they had come. Yet he did not question it, too afraid of what might happen if he dared to speak. He stared at his feet, not bothering to try and remember the path they took. A door creaked quietly and he found himself stepping out into a small dark alley.

“Lift your hoods,” the hand commanded as they neared the end of the alley.

They walked until they made it to Fishmongers Square, where a small carriage awaited them. The ride back to the castle was silent. Though Aerys’ could feel the eyes of Otto Hightower glaring at him. He suddenly wished to have Nyra at his side. She would know what to do, she always did. She would not hesitate to speak up in his defense. But now she was gone, sailed off to Dragonstone. All that was left was his grandsire, King Viserys. The boy loved his grandsire he truly did, but the man was weak. Always so busy trying to keep everyone happy. Always trying to keep the peace between the queen and the princess. Something he often failed at miserably.

The two boys were taken to the tower of the hand. The castle was practically void of all life at this time, so they did not have to fear lurking eyes. The hand paced back and forth, glaring at them every so often before continuing. The boys sat across from each other at the table that sat in the hand’s bed chamber. The silence was deafening. They were unsure of what the old man was waiting for. Aerys could not bring himself to even look up from the worn-down wood of the table. He felt Aegon kick at his foot, trying to get his attention. But Aerys would not look at him. The door swung open. Aerys looked up to find that the queen had entered the room. She wore a thick green robe, most likely to cover her nightdress. Her hair was unkempt, an unusual sight for the usual well-put-together queen.

“Leave us, Ser Yoren,” Otto commanded.

The knight’s armor clinked as he took his leave. Aerys felt as if he were going to be sick. As soon as the door closed the queen spoke.

“What has happened?” She asked.

“What happened is that I found these two laying together in a brothel, with my grandson about to put his own nephew's cock in his mouth!” The old man hissed, his voice laced with venom.

Aerys jumped in his seat at the noise. The bile rose in his throat, threatening to spill out. His entire body was shaking, riddled with fear.

“What? That is a lie! They would never-”

“Do you believe I would lie about something like this? Something so odious, something so vile!”

“No, I only meant-”

“Your uncle told me there was nothing to fear with you alone at court, and I tried to believe him. I tried to have faith in you, but for you to let something like this happen-”

“I did not let this happen-”

“Silence!” He seethed.

The queen's eyes widened in fear before she quickly cast her eyes to the floor. The man sighed before turning away from her and walking towards the table.

“Fortunately for the two of you, no one was able to recognize you. The two whores have been dealt with. But make no mistake,” the man warned, his voice dangerously low. “This will never happen again, or there will be serious consequences for the both of you. Alicent, escort my grandson back to his chambers. Ensure that a knight is placed inside of his room, to keep an eye on him.”

“Yes, Father...and what of Aerys?” She asked.

“I will have him escorted by Ser Yoren, now go.”

“Yes Father, come Aegon!” She commanded, motioning the boy to go to her.

Aerys turned his head to look at Aegon. Surely he wouldn’t leave him. Aegon stood to his feet, his eyes shifted to look at the boy across the table. Aerys looked at him with the best pleading eyes he could muster, begging him to stay. Aegon lowered his head and walked to his mother. Aerys watched, devastated. His lip trembled, his eyes burned with tears, and his heart began pounding in his ears. He dropped his head, staring at his feet.

“Look at me boy.” Otto hissed.

Aerys remained still. How could he? How could Aegon abandon him like this? This was all his fault!

“Look at me!”

Aerys barely had time to raise his head before the back of the old man’s hand connected with his cheek.

The harsh smack echoed through the room. The ringing in his ear and the stinging in his eyes made it difficult to register what had happened. He looked at the man before him at a loss for words. The man’s hand was still in the air. For a second the man shared a look of bewilderment before his eyes burned with fury.

“How dare you!” The man spat. “How dare you befoul my grandson with your depravity-”

Aerys turned his head to look away but the old man was quick to catch his chin in his hand. Aerys winced at the pain, trying to wriggle away.

“What kind of perversion is this?” He hissed.

His eyes darkened with loathing.

“No doubt this is the influence of your dear aunt and her husband. They’ve spent the last decade flouting their transgressions at court without shame. And I see they have planted the seeds of their debauchery in you. But as I said, this will not happen again. Be grateful for who your family is, boy. If you were anyone else I would have you gelded and sent off to the wall. Though you may prefer that, being what you are. Being trapped with a bunch of men who are so desperate to satisfy their depraved urges that they’ll fuck anything that moves must sound like paradise to you.”

The man backed away, though his eyes still glared at the boy. He stood up tall, his head held high. Aerys could feel the burning heat still emanating from his cheek.

“Ser Yoren will escort you to your chambers. I’ll send someone to clean that up.” The old man pointed his finger toward the boy's face. Shakily, Aerys raised his fingers to touch his cheek. He pulled them back to find himself bleeding. Not a lot of blood, just a drop or two, mostly likely from the large rings on the man’s fingers.

“You will not breathe a word of this night to anyone. As far as you’re concerned it never happened. But heed my warning boy. This will never happen again. Am I understood?”

Aerys moved his eyes to meet the old man’s gaze. Still unable to speak, he nodded in response.

“Good, now go.”

The boy could feel his knees buckle as he stood. He moved hesitantly, scared that the man would strike him again. Their eyes never left each other until Aerys was out the door. He could hear the old man whisper something to the knight. A moment later he heard the sound of footsteps trailing behind him.

Aerys sat quietly, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. The maester dabbed at the small cut on his cheek. They didn’t speak a word. Only the sound of crackling firewood filled the room. The sky was just beginning to turn a light blue. It wouldn’t be long before the pitter-patter of rushing servants rang through the halls of the castle.

“Alright, it should heal up within a few days. No need for stitches. Expect some bruising. You really ought to be more careful. There have been many young lords who met their ends tumbling down a flight of stairs.”

“Of course maester, it was a foolish mistake. Too much wine I suppose.”

“Mmm yes, that sounds about right. Alright, you should try and sleep now. Perhaps some dreamwine would help-”

“No!” The boy snapped.

The maester looked at him taken aback.

“My apologies maester, but I’m alright. There is no need.”

“Of course, I shall take my leave.” The maester bowed his head before leaving.

Once the door slammed closed he moved to the looking glass in the corner of the room. His iris eyes almost could not recognize the boy who stared back at him. There was a small cut beneath his eyes. Dark from the dried blood, and the salve the maester placed on it to keep it from infecting. The skin of his left cheek, as well as his left eye, looked red and slightly swollen. But it was not his injury that perturbed him. He had been bruised before. From accidents during sword training and from actually falling down the stairs once. He undressed, tossing the tattered clothes to the side.

Perhaps Otto Hightower was right. The seeds of sin were planted within him. Such sins weighed heavy on his heart, on his soul. He felt unclean, tainted. His nails dug into his skin scratching away at some unremitting itch that would not go away. Could he ever be forgiven? Would the gods be able to forgive such blasphemy? Such filth...

Aerys turned his head back to the small round table he and the maester had been sitting at. There was a larger copper bowl sitting in the middle. He walked over to dip his fingers into the bowl. The water had cooled. The cold water caused the hair on his arms to rise. He grabbed the rag from the bowl, not bothering to wring it. Water dripped down his skin as he scrubbed with contempt. Sobs racked his body as he struggled to reach his back. In frustration, he tossed the rag to the floor. His chest heaved heavily as he struggled to breathe. He swung his arm out, swiping the bowl off the table. Water splashed everywhere and the metal echoed as it hit the floor.

Aerys allowed himself to drop with it. He rocked himself back and forth, burying his face into his hands. His skin was red and raw, it burned as the morning breeze brushed against him. The boy found himself utterly exhausted now. He lay on his side, curling himself into a ball. Wrapping his arms around himself, he began to hum a tune. It was the lullaby his mother used to sing for him. He could no longer remember the words, but he remembered the melody. At long last, darkness overtook him.

#aegon ii x oc #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #king aegon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd #fire and blood #asoiaf fanfic #male!oc #hotd aegon #orginal character #targcest #aegon the second #aegon the elder #aegon angst #aegon x male!oc

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blueberrypancakesworld · 1 year

Text

House of the dragon - Masterlist

Info : All my works for hotd and more characters are added

--------------------------------

Request

°Green Flames->Son of Daemon and Mysaria, angst, hurt/comfort

°The bewitched->Blind son of Aemma Arryn, angst, hurt/comfort

°Cohesion of blood->Twin sister of Aemma Aryyn, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

°The true heir->Daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor, hurt/comfort, emotional, angst, fluff

°The other daughter->Adoptive daughter of Aemma, emotional, hurt/comfort, angst

°By the gods->Rhaenyras cousin, fluff, comfort

°Loss of the wrong blood->Daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor, emotional, fluff/comfort, angst

°The river and the flame ->Oscar x wife!reader, fluff, kiss

°The king's blood and shadow -> Maegor x servant!reader , yandere, obsession, dark

-------------------

Aemond

°The promise->aemonds wife, hurt, angst, emotional, death

°Little flower->female tyrell reader, obsession, dark, death, one sided feelings

°My flowers->fem reader, obsession, dark themes, one sided relationship, pregnancy, sequel to Little flower

°I was your flower->fem reader, obsession, death, angst, hurt

°Shattering sapphires tear under love ->+18, smut, mommy issues, implied dom/sub, hurt/comfort

°Aemond in a relationship (younger/older reader)->comfort, fluff, smut

°The farm princess and the rough sapphire -> Aemond x adoptive!princess, fluff, kiss, comfort

°Surprise visit with needs ->Aemond x servant!reader , modern au, +18, smut, mommy issues, breast play

-------------------------

Daemon

°A present->fem reader, daemon is obssed with the reader, angst

°I have always accepted you (Daemyra) -> emotional, hurt/comfort, kiss, mentioned war/blood/death, children death, mentioned implied aggression, crying, fear

°Restless and chaotic loving (Daemyra x fem!reader) ->obsession, kissing, emotional

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Rhaenyra

°I have always accepted you (Daemyra) -> emotional, hurt/comfort, kiss, mentioned war/blood/death, children death, mentioned implied aggression, crying, fear

°Restless and chaotic loving (Daemyra x fem!reader) ->obsession, kissing, emotional

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Alicent

°My side was always by yours -> Rhaenicent , hurt/comfort, kiss, dysfunctional family

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Aegon the second

°The farewell before the war ->fem reader , targaryen incest, fluff, kissing

°The dragon couple and the servant->Aegon/Heleana x servant!male reader->fluff, comfort

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Jacaerys

Coming soon

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Helaena

°Don't become a dream to me->fem reader, angst, comfort, character death

°The dragon couple and the servant->Aegon/Heleana x servant!male reader->fluff, comfort

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Edit

°Lucemond

°Lucerys Velaryon

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Other/multiple/non listed characters

°Advent Calendar Door.3

°Advent Calendar Door.15

°My Treasure - Lucemond

°Never wake a sleeping Dragon->fem reader, yandere viserys, hurt/comfort, obsession, dark

°hotd characters comforting you before the war->fem reader, fluff, comfort

°types of hotd men as yandere ->fem reader, yandere, dark themes

°Risen under false dragons ->Viserys iii x fem!reader , hurt/comfort, falling in love, hurt viserys

°Your are ours - Greens x fem!reader (hostage)->fluff, obsession, angst, fluff, kissing

°Framed by saphire and crown - Aemond x maid!reader x Alicent -> yandere, obsession, kissing

°Your are ours - Blacks x fem!reader (hostage) -> fluff, comfort

°The lads and their Lady (Oscar/Davos/Willem/Aeron x fem!reader)->fluff, comfort, kiss

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

Targaryen Tuesday

°I will protect you in the time to come - Aegon Targaryen (Son of Aenys I) x fem!reader -> fluff, comfort

°Between the books is love - Vaegon Targaryen x fem!reader -> fluff, comfort, tiny angst

°Shadow, Shield, Snake and Sword - Jonquil Darke x fem!reader ->fluff, comfort, swordtraining, kinda flirting if you look closely

°Beauty on cold eyes and scarred skin - Merris x fem!reader ->fluff, hurt/comfort, kiss

°Arrows of love - Satin x fem!redaer -> fluff, comfort, angst, kissing

°Vaegon in a relationship SFW/NSFW

°Green eyes a star and affection ->Marei x fem!reader, fluff, kissing, comfort

°A gift of pearls and amethysts ->Lysono Maar x wife!reader, fluff, comfort, courting with gifts

°Sun dragon prince of goodnes and beauty -> Baelor Breakspear x fem!reader , fluff, comfort, kissing

°Promising love in flames -> Daeron x wife!reader, angst, character death, kiss, comfort

°The heir and his star ->Willas x betrothed!reader , fluff, comfort, kiss

°Water, ships and a pearl -> Aurane Waters x wife!reader, fluff, kissing

°Seeing eyes of the future and love -> Daenys x lady!reader ,fluff, kissing, comfort

°First dragon siblings->Daenys/Gaemond x sister!reader, fluff, comfort

°Former heirs of the house->Domeric Bolton x betrothed!reader , fluff, hurt/comfort

°Sworn love and loyality->Harrold Hardyng x wife!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, kiss

°Two towers for a dragon->Forrest Frey x princess!reader, fluff, kiss, hug

---------------------

#house of the dragon #hotd #request #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #helena targaryen #targaryentuesday

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runanadwiddles · 2 years

Text

Bad ∞ End ∞ Night

ehe~ miss me? who doesn't? /j ;; no but seriously,, this was just a whimmy writing thingy. Not really an "x reader" but it is implied I think- I don't know anymore ; v ; I just know that it's Halloween and wanted to get some kind of writing in- have a uh, another vocaloid based fic- please note that characters are only BRIEFLY mentioned and context clues are used to describe each character ^^

wordy county: 1.459k words

tw: mentions of blood and death

Within the deep dark forest, a lost child wandered the endless woods. In the midst of the night, they wandered with a faded letter in hand. Upon their wandering stood a tall and ominous mansion in the middle of the dark world. The doors to this old building were damaged but somehow still aesthetically pleasing; with a knock or two, a shaky small voice came out from the villager, “Is anybody there?”

The elderly doors made the smallest of cracks as light poured into the dark forest, “My, do you need some help?” Violet eyes shine with a warmth that you’ve yet to see after dark. The villager meekly nodded as they simply wanted to escape the tall woods. The butler happily welcomed the villager in as there sat even more residents of the manor.

A pair of twins danced and pranced toward the villager with the joyous of faces, “Welcome, welcome!” Cheered the pink twin, “To our wondrous mansion!” Finished the aqua half, their little dance perfectly synchronized as if they had practiced it for this very moment.

“Let me serve you some tea!” A sweet voice rang, his blue hair swayed gently as he handed you a cup of tea. The soothing aroma made the villager’s worries disappear as they happily accepted the bevrage from a maid-like butler.

The residents gathered around the villager as they “appraised” the newly welcomed guest. Such wonders filled the once-quiet mansion with colorful delight as they chatted away their thoughts. “A meeting such as this must be fate! Welcome to our wondrous night!” A blonde male sings as he felt the adrenaline rush through him; something must be done to properly welcome the guest of the house.

The twins quickly jumped on the man’s optimistic attitude as they sprinkled in an idea; the aqua-doll-like boy chimed, “Then let’s party!” His other half happily agreed as he continued, “Yes! A party! Let us welcome you!”

The villager’s eyes wandered as the seven people quickly rushed to start this everlasting party of the night. Not once have they ever felt this welcomed before, even after intruding so late of night. The warmth of this manor has only begun; it’ll only grow even warmer as this party continues.

“Hurry, hurry!”

“Pour the wine!”

“Be merry~ A party awaits us!”

“Let us toast!”

“Are you ready?”

“Are we, indeed?”

“Then let us begin this night!” A chorus of voices cheered, the clinking of glass echoing throughout the manor halls. Various beverages were presented before the villager, as well as delicate dishes of foods they’d never seen before. A feast it was; one big jolly party for their esteemed guest.

As the leading role for this crazy night, the spotlight danced above the villager as everyone gathered and cheered. The scent of the sultry wine casted a veil of drunkenness over this jubilant party, everyone enjoying themselves to the very brim. Making merry, everyone sang and danced, forgetting all the bitter and sweet thoughts to the point they could go mad. Instead of knowing what’s right and wrong, bitter or sweet, let’s enjoy a happy night!

The party ran until dawn, the villager having no recollections of the previous night’s feast. Something felt wrong, wasn’t it supposed to be morning? The frightened villager felt the hair on their skin rise as morning never arrived. There was no source of light as the moon rested up above in the sky with the gleaming stars.

Just after that, the door swung open to reveal the twins of mischief, “Shall we tell you a secret~?” Their voices always in perfect harmony as they led the villager to an antique clock in the living room, “Take a look at the clock~” The villager felt the intense fear crawling up from behind them as they fled the scene. “You think we scared them, Yuuta?” A peppy voice rang from one half as the other shook their head, a smile adorning their face, “They were definitely scared.”

As the villager dashed off, they stumbled upon the maid-like butler in a hurry, “Oh my, dear villager, what’s wrong?” His sweet voice was addicting like sugar, but the villager quickly muttered an apology before leaving once again. “My oh my, where will they be heading…” their lavender eyes gently stared off into the distance as the villager disappeared.

“What’s wrong, Hajime?” The head butler stopped as he held a tray of treats. “Ah, Fushimi-san… The guest went down the hall in a rush; I’m just worried for them, is all” Hajime glances back towards the endless hall leading to nowhere. Yuzuru looked in the same direction that Hajime looked at as his eyes widened, “That’s where the special room is…”

Quickly, the two workers followed the direction the villager dashed in, attracting attention of all the residents in the household. Soon enough, the secret room was in sight, and with a slight push, there revealed the shaken villager.

The son of the house sighed, his voice and aquamarine eyes filled with annoyance, “How annoying…” The nobleman chuckled as his blonde hair shined perfectly in the dark room, “So you saw it…” A familiar peppy voice sang, his pink ribbon swaying as he twirled, “Danger danger!” With a reassuring smile, the blue-rabbit butler placed his finger to his lips in a hushing manner, “Please don’t be scared~” Another voice sang, almost as if one half wasn’t enough, “Where are you going?” An intrigued butler stood with his eyes curious, “Where indeed?”

“Oh, jesus jesus! You found the coffins!” The twins' eyes shot open in surprise as if it was scripted. This was a part of the script, was it? “What can I do to get back home?” the villager’s shaky voice echoed softly in the eerie room. The answer was simple, to continue the play with a happy ending. After all, they are the leading actor in this crazy night.

“Once the play is over, you shall return,” the lord of the house smiled, his angelic face no longer affecting the villager. “Lord Eichi... Are you sure that was the right choice..?” The feminine butler asked, his eyes showing anxiousness. “Well, of course, they’re our esteemed guest, are they not?”

The second son began to speak, “Once you find the key, you’ll find the happy ending.” His emerald eyes showed warmth as he pushed up his glasses. The villager’s eyes widened as they learned of the key; they knew exactly where it was, and with that, they dashed off. “Why would you tell them, Yuukun,” The eldest grunted, clearly irritated. Was there an unknown truth? “There’s no harm in a little treasure hunt, is there now? Right, Sena-kun~?” The lord smiled eagerly, wanting to know what would happen next. If this was all a play, then where was the leading actor?

Quietly ticking, the clock rang and ticked as time slowly passed by. The golden hands of the clock inching closer yet further away from each other. “This must be it… The key to our happy ending…” With a crazed laugh, a voice more diminutive than a mouse, “I found~ it!” Their eyes filled with madness, “If this is it, then the happy ending will be here!” Instead of finding that happy ending, though, the script was abandoned as the villager went mad. Ripping the golden hands off the clock, they soon became knives and key to this so-called ‘happy ending.’

The residents of the house witnessed the insane outburst of the villager as they stood terrified. This wasn’t a part of the script at all, but nevertheless, the play must continue. Everyone began to run as the crazed lead actor tore down their path. “Run for your life! They’re no longer here!” The head butler cries as all the residents scatter around the room.

Forget the play and lines; this madness will soon consume all. Perhaps that’ll be the way to end this bad end night. Laughter rang throughout the halls as the villager slowly started to enjoy themselves a little more. As the leading actor in this crazy night, the cast and stage are all gone. The story now over; shall everyone leave together? Make merry! Sing! Dance! All the sweet and bitter long forgotten in this dark night. It was a mad night for a mad leading actor, what a bad end night this is!

In this silent room, a shadow gave a round of applause, “A good show you put on tonight indeed…” Tears rolled down their cheeks as a bloodied letter lay on the ground. The scent of blood was strong in the room, and everyone now asleep forever. The shadow picked up the bloodied letter, the secrets of the happy ending hidden inside. Was this a true happy ending?

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sleepiebeauties · 3 years

Text

Idia’s Birthday Present

Idia Shroud x Female Reader

Warnings:: Sub Idia, soft dom! reader, futa reader, maid Idia

𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭

W-Where am I? Did (Y/n) do something?

When he opened his eyes, Idia could only see darkness. The soft sensation on top of his eyes made him realize that he was blindfolded by a sleeping mask. He felt the sleeping mask rise from his eyes and blinked against the bright light shining directly upon his eyes.

When they adjusted to the brightness he could make out that he was in his room, but something felt different. He felt different. But when he tried to move his arms to get up, he realized they were securely tied up above his head, and lifting his head a little bit he could see that his legs were also tied up by ribbons as well as spread. But that wasn't the only thing that surprised him. Instead of the outfit he was wearing at his birthday party, he was now wearing a maid outfit. How -and when- did this happen?

The only thing he remembers was you telling him that you had his gift in his room-

Oh.

Could you be recreating that fantasy? How did you find out? He never told you about this manga he read once so how??? Did you discover a spell that could his mind-

"Don't worry I didn't read your mind!" Huh?

Lifting his head the best he could he saw you there, sitting on a chair placed beside the bed with its back towards it. With your elbow propped on the chair and face resting on your hand, you looked at him, making sure to burn this sight on your eyes and brain forever.

Idia's face heated so much under your gaze that you worried for a second that he would actually combust and set the bed on fire. You brought an extinguisher and hide it closely just in case...

"(Y-Y/n) what is the meaning of this? H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-H-How-"

He almost set the bed on fire.

"Calm down! I'll explain everything to you!" you wait until he visibly calmed down and began explaining. "Some weeks ago forgot to turn off your computer before going to the Board Game club. When I entered your room to search for you and saw your computer on so I went to turn it off. When I got close I saw this..." you positioned your thumb and index finger under your chin, looking at the side as you remember the content on the computer.

Idia's face visibly paled. He knew exactly where this was going. "...18+ visual novel you created. The two main characters looked similar to us. And the scene that was currently being displayed on the screen was of the male lead pinned down by her futanari girlfriend."

You suddenly got up from your position on the chair and moved close to him. The dorm leader let out a yelp once you got on top of him. "A scene similar to this current one we are in.~" you smirked deviously.

He peeked down when he felt something pocking his thigh ad gasped once he saw your erect cock hitting his skin. His rosiness rose, and his hair tips turned red. He soon averted his eyes back to yours.

"You understand what I'm implying, don't you?"

He trembeld under your domiant gaze. That gaze made his legs shake and wetness formed between them. He felt he was about to combust any second now. Your words, your gestures. All of them made his cock twitch and leak a trickle of cum from it. Plus, the fact that you found about the secret novel he kept hidden well - or so he thought. The novel was about a pair of lovers who changed jobs for a day and, after getting home, couldn't resist after the male lead wore a maid outfit and then proceeded to get fucked nicely by his futa girlfriend.

Another cry escaped his mouth when he felt you sink your teeth on his stomach. He was so focused on those thoughts that he didn't even notice your lips trailing down his body. His body was now covered in small bright red marks from your bites.

At his loud shriek, you lifted your head to see tears in the corner of his eyes, threatening to slide down his burning cheeks.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" you asked genuinely worried.

"N-NO!" he quickly answered. "Y-You didn't hurt me! I was just lost in my thoughts and didn't notice you!"

"Then should I-"

"You can continue!"

His face reddened more at his fast response, and you covered your mouth in hopes of concealing the chuckle that came out. Reassured that you weren't hurting him, you direct your head to his crotch. Sticking your tongue out, you licked his cock over his underwear, which caused him to squirm. Then you pulled his underwear with your teeth, and his dick sprung out, the cold air hitting his skin that was previously suppressed by his underwear.

"Your dick is so cute!"

There it was. His whines of pleasure were starting to slip out and he clenched his fists as he had nothing to cling to given that his hands were still pinned on top of his head.

After you fingered his hole for it to be spread wide enough for your cock, you aligned it against his entrance and pushed the head inside. Right then he started clenching around you tightly. You rubbed his thigh as a sign for him to relax. That seemed to do the trick as he relaxes under your touch.

You pushed all the way inside and after a moment of being still, you start moving in and out with a certain speed in your movement. Having caressed his body beforehand, you were already close to the edge. Seeing him full of pleasure filled you with contentment and excitement. After all, what wouldn't you do for a cute little thing like him? Even more, now that he had put his arms around your neck with his hands still tied to bring you closer to him?~

With a few more thrusts he came up with such force that some of his cum landed in his face. You only came a few minutes later, pushing it in and painting his insides in milky white.

You peppered his face with kisses while he tried to cover it with his hands, which you eventually untied. Discarding the cum filled maid dress and the ribbons around his legs, you wrapped him in your arms and continued giving him little kisses on his face while he hugged your waist tightly.

"Ne Idia, this scenario we just experienced was chapter number 9 of the novel."

Uh oh.

"What do you think we recreate the other 8?~"

This time all his hair turned red.

"Happy Birthday, Idia."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst idia #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twst idia shroud #idia shroud smut #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland lemon #sub twisted wonderland #birthday #dom!reader #dom reader

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meltwonu · 3 years

Text

✦ 👻 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 SEASON 2 👻 ✦

↪ ✧ SIMON SAYS ✧

this chapter pairing; yandere!dino x idol!reader

genre&warnings; yandere!au, dom!dino, stylist!dino, idol!reader, dirty talk, degradation, name calling, possessive behaviours, ‼️‼️somnophilia‼️‼️, fingering, marking, implied character death.

notes; Oh baby where do I start kdfhkdf ☠️ Uhm not gonna lie, something I wanted to toy with for a while now but wasn’t sure if wanted to but ☠️ we are here now and I just want yall to know that I would 100000% nut very hard if Chan ever did this to me so 😗✌️ reserving my place in hell as per usual kjhkjhk 😭 also I got food poisoning so it’s been a rough 30-some hours I've been puking my existence out so thats def haunted as hell KJHDKJ LOL ANYWAY enjoy ch 8! I love you and have a good rest of your day! I’ll see you tomorrow! 🥳👻

word count; ~2500

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - x - x - x - x - x

love is still a mystery to me but,

watch me move when I hear his name.

and I don't wanna talk about it right now-

i'd rather keep my visions to myself.

everybody wants to block my man out,

but he's the only one that's gonna help.

“Did Chan tell you that you couldn’t go to the company Halloween party… Again? This is the third year already, isn’t it?”

Your manager sits across from you - brows furrowed as you smile sheepishly.

“I know, Seungkwan. But he made plans for us already and you know I can’t say no… Our time together is important to us when we’re not working. You know how it is, right?”

The suited male sighs as he nods. “I understand. It just would’ve been fun to see you guys at the party, y’know? You’re one of our biggest idols and the fans never get any photos of you in cute costumes anymore.”

The two of you share a laugh as he slides over your schedule for the next week.

“Which is exactly why I scheduled a fansign event for you this time!”

Seungkwan grins, “Just a small one, right before Halloween. You can have Chan pick a costume for you and you can interact with your fans and get some nice photos! Give everyone a chance to see you wearing something that isn’t your stage outfits, okay?”

You hum as you go over the schedule - noting the music shows lined up right before the fansign and then your days off for the Halloween weekend.

“I’ll go over it with Chan while I’m getting ready tomorrow for the pre-rec. I’m sure he can find something good for me.”

“A costume? For what?”

Chan’s hands roam your body as he gets you dressed for the music program - turning and twisting for him as he adjusts the stage outfit to fit your body better.

“Did Seungkwan not give you my schedule? I have a fansign at the end of the week before our weekend off together… He wanted it to be Halloween-y so he said I should wear a costume and be cute!”

You smile at Chan who shoots you a concerned smile. “What if there’s weirdos there, baby? I don’t want them to look at you… like how I look at you. You know I don’ like that.”

“Chan… Pleeeease. It’s just one time! It doesn’t have to be super revealing either, just--y’know, something cute. I’m tired of wearing my stage outfits to fansigns...”

Pouting up at him, he can’t resist the way you give him puppy eyes and despite him wanting to say no, he nods.

“Fine, fine, fine. But just this once, okay? Anything weird happens and it’s never happening again.”

And when the day comes, Chan can’t help but dread it the entire time he’s helping you into the maid costume; unenthusiastically zipping the dress up as you squeal.

“This is so cute! Oh, Chan, I love it so much! Thank you, it’s perfect!”

You kiss him on the cheek gently as he sighs and nods - as long as you were happy he would bear it.

“You’re welcome, baby. Now hold still, I need to fix the rest of the outfit before I send you out there.”

“Thank you so much for coming! It was nice meeting you!”

You smile and wave off a fan as they walk off stage; immediately greeting the next one that approaches you when it’s their turn.

“Hi, thank you so much for--Oh! It’s you! Hi again!” You grin widely at the fan as you recognize him - his own smile matching yours as he sets his album down in front of you.

“You remember me?!” He asks enthusiastically.

“Of course! It’s Vernon, right? You were at my last fansign too! The one from last month? I remember you! How are your uni classes going?”

Vernon can’t help but blush; palms sweaty as he stumbles over his words when he talks to you.

And Chan watches from the side between the curtains - eyes burning with fire and jaw clenched tight as he watches you reach over the table and pet Vernon’s hair softly.

Why do you do that? He asks himself.

Why do you give him so much extra work to do?

“Man, I’m exhausted…” You moan; slumping into the chair as Chan steps behind you.

There’d been only 50 fans but you made sure to stay a little longer than usual to make the time more special for everyone as you conversed and played games with them.

“Oh I bet, baby. You had such a long day today, I’m so proud of you~” He sings-songs - hands on your shoulders as he starts to massage them.

“Oh, that--that feels so gooooood…”

You melt under his touch; soft sighs leaving your lips as his hands travel down your chest and then further until they're ghosting the hem of your skirt.

“You wanna feel even better, sweetheart?”

“A-ah, Chan, maybe n-not here… Someone might--mmph!”

He reaches under your skirt until his fingertips are teasing you through your panties - your eyes immediately flitting to the mirror in front of you as you watch Chan touch you through the glass.

There was something about the way his hand was lost between the tulle and lace of your dress that has you moaning and craving more - but the bigger part of you knew it was not the time or place.

“Chan, C--Chan, someone m-might walk in… W-we should, ah, stop...” Whimpering, you place your hand on his forearm as he chuckles and nuzzles your neck.

“What’s so wrong with that, huh? Scared they’re gonna see their favorite girl getting her cunt fingered by her boyfriend while she wears this cute ‘lil maid costume? Or maybe I can make you watch yourself in the mirror while I fuck you from behind, hmm? You can go out there and greet them one last time with my cum inside your pretty ‘lil cunt and staining the inside of your dress.”

A shiver rolls down your spine at his words and for a second, you’re grinding against his fingers that are poking and prodding you through the lacy panties.

But you hear the doorknob rattling and you’re quick to tug Chan’s hand away before you’re standing a foot away and breathing harshly.

And not a second later does the door open and reveal a slew of other staff who immediately fill up the empty space to clean up and go home for the night.

That’s okay, Chan tells himself, I have other work to do tonight anyway.

The next few days you intentionally take off for Halloween and for some self-care days with Chan - making sure that he had a spare key to your apartment to let himself in when he was ready to come over.

And the tiredness eventually takes its toll on you as you lay in bed waiting for him to slow up; eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself go into a dreamland instead.

“Mmnh… Chan…”

You dream about him often and this time it’s no different.

His warm body spooning your own from behind as his hands roam your body yet again.

“Ready to let me continue what I was doing before, sweetheart? Before we were interrupted?” He mumbles into your hair; his hand already slipping past the waistband of your shorts as you moan. “P-please… I wanna feel your fingers inside of me…”

He grins when he feels your soaked panties and the sleepiness in your voice lets him know that as far as you knew - you were still dreaming.

“Yeah? Want me to finger your pretty ‘lil cunt before I fuck it with my cock?”

You moan sleepily - thoroughly enjoying the dream you thought you were having when Chan’s fingers are gliding through your wet folds and teasing your clit.

“I--I want it, hurry… Mmnh, haven’t h-had time to do this l-lately…”

He slowly sinks his digits into your pussy as you let out an airy moan; walls clenching around them tightly as he starts to thrust them in and out.

“I would’ve if you let me, sweetheart. I would’ve fucked you right in that dressing room like the good ‘lil whore you are for me.”

Chan places his thumb on your clit and slowly rubs soft circles on it in time with his thrusts that have you whining and whimpering his name in return.

“Ngh, w-we would’ve gotten, ah, caught though… I d-didn’t wanna get in--in trouble…”

He curls his fingers right into your sweet spot as you mewl and arch away from his chest - already feeling close to an orgasm.

“Your body is so sensitive from not being touched in so long, sweetheart~ Don’t you ever play with yourself like this without me?” He teases.

“N-no…”

“No? Why’s that?”

You beg him to go faster; his touch feeling so real to your sleepy mind as your walls tighten even more around his fingers.

“It’s--it’s not the s-same, a-ah, I--my f-fingers aren’t as b-big as yours and, ngh, only y-you get me to c-cum this good…”

Chan doesn’t respond and instead flicks his wrist harder as he gets you to cum on his fingers.

And it’s not until your orgasm is cresting that you realize it’s not a dream but reality.

“O-oh, Chan!”

Your toes are curling and your manicured nails are digging into his forearm as he fingers you through your actual orgasm - quiet sobs on your lips from the intensity of it.

“Finally awake now, huh, sweetheart? You sounded so cute and sleepy thinking you were having a wet dream of me fingering your pretty ‘lil cunt. How nice that it was actually an orgasm, huh? Now I can’t wait to feel your tight ‘lil cunt around my cock.”

He laughs teasingly as you ride out the pleasure; only halting his movements when you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

“H-how, ngh, how long w-were you…?”

“Oh, not that long, sweetheart~ Just when you started moaning my name.”

Your cheeks are burning as you calm yourself down - a rush of wetness soaking your already wet panties as Chan starts to tug your shorts down with them.

“Now that you’re not dreaming, how about I give you the real thing, hmm? My cock is already so hard, sweetheart~ It was taking everything inside me to not fuck you earlier.”

“L-like this?” You whisper; eyes peering into the darkness as he puts a little bit of space between your bodies to tug himself out of his sweats.

“Mmhmm… Haven’t fucked you in this position in a long time~”

Chan lifts your leg slightly and hooks it over his own - his cock sliding through your folds from behind as the head of it nudges your clit.

“Mmnh, C--Chan… m-my pussy needs y-your cock, a-ah, so bad… Please…”

“Such a needy ‘lil cockslut, aren’t you?” He sneers; right before he positions his cock at your entrance and bottoms out in a singular thrust.

“F-fuck! Chan!”

The stretch has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and the way his cock curves right into your g-spot has your toes curling when he starts a moderately quick pace.

“How would your fans feel, hmm? If they found out that you were really just a needy ‘lil cockwhore for me? Hah, imagine their faces if they ever saw me with my cock balls deep inside this filthy cunt of yours - cum spilling out of you after I’ve already filled you up to the brim with it.”

Chan kisses your clothed shoulder as he rocks his hips into you from behind.

“You know they have all sorts of anonymous message boards these days… And I was thinking that we should post pictures sometime. We’ll cover our faces of course but, ah, I think they’d like the content, don’t you? Your body is so pretty, sweetheart~ Just like the rest of you~ And I’m sure they’d love to see how good you get fucked by me too. Some of your fans would get to see all of you~”

You let out a choked moan as he starts to double his pace and you feel your walls clamping down onto his shaft as you feel yourself on the edge of another orgasm.

“Fuh--fuck… Mmnh, that’d be--be so, ah, hot…” You moan, “Pictures of m-my pussy leaking with y-your cum…”

You let out a mewl as Chan lifts your leg higher to give himself more room to pound your cunt.

“You really are my filthy ‘lil slut, huh? You pretend to be so cute in front of your fans but look at you~ Wanting everyone to see your dripping ‘lil hole after I’ve fucked it. So fuckin’ filthy.” Chan growls.

You can feel his cock throbbing as his thrusts become erratic and you reach a hand down as you shakily rub circles around your clit.

“C-cum with m-me, Chan… Wanna f-feel you spilling all, ngh, y-your cum inside me…”

He smirks against your shoulder before you feel his lips on your neck kissing you softly - your breath hitching when you start to feel him sucking and biting on the skin.

“W-wait, d--don’t… C--Chan, don’t, a-ah, leave m-marks there…” You whimper.

But Chan doesn’t let up - instead sucking and biting harder onto the column of your throat as you let out a cry and cum around his cock

“Fuh--fuck! ‘M cumming…!”

You cry out and add pressure to your touches; rubbing your clit as harsh as Chan would as he chuckles against your skin.

“Don’t you remember, baby? I’m your stylist, aren’t I? I can cover everything up.”

Your walls flutter around his cock and Chan can’t hold back any longer; his cock throbbing as he give into the pleasure and cums inside your warm cunt.

“Be a good ‘lil slut and don’t let a drop spill, okay? I’ll have to punish you if you make a mess~ You know how much I hate cleaning up messes~”

You clamp down harder onto his shaft as you ride out the bliss that pours over you - but it’s the second your start to come down from your high do you notice the pile of stained clothes that Chan left by the door.

“Chan...”

He kisses your shoulders a few more times; the soft gesture making you bite your bottom lip just as he starts to slow down his movements.

On any normal day, you wouldn’t have thought twice about the pile of clothes - Chan being the type to keep any of your stage outfits he knew you’d like.

But something about the way they were stained is what made you even more curious.

“Mm?”

You try to focus your eyes in the darkness; hazy eyes trying to make out more of the shapes.

Telling yourself that the stains on the unfamiliar clothes didn’t look just like blood.

“That’s--that’s just... a stage outfit, right...? Did you take them from the company building...?”

And Chan sighs, kicking himself mentally.

He thought he’d have time to get rid of those before you’d noticed but he’d admittedly gotten distracted when he heard you moaning out his name in your sleep.

It’s okay, Chan thinks.

I can cover up anything.

Anonymous

Thread Title: Is anyone going to the fansign next thursday?

Subject:

I’m going to the fansign for the first time next week… I’m really nervous and wanted to make some friends the day before? >.< Maybe get some drinks so we can plan to go together if anyone else is going alone. I’m really shy and I could use some friends lol.

My kakao ID : di__no____99

Please send me a message if you’re interested! I know a great place in town!

- nodi

#dino smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #dino scenarios #dino imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #lee chan #dino #chan smut

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um-soybean · 2 years

Text

Forbidden

M!Anyone x Gn!reader

Summary: Forbidden love is always hard. Try loving a war god. This story is about betrayal and in the end great loss. For both parties

Notes: I have no idea what this is I just really wanted to write. This is a very short classic forbidden love story so it may not be SUPER interesting. Also the other person doesn’t really have any mentions besides being male so take that as you will.

Warnings: they/them reader, destroying hierarchy, being thrown, destruction of houses, mentions of mass death, mentions of bent dead bodies (stranger things style), stabbing details, implied major character death

Forbidden love, a classic right? A stunning angel caught between their parents and a so-called “war god” trying to destroy every last piece of hierarchy.

You are an angel, born first into the all-powerful family in the lands of the Ethereal Realm. A realm like no other and a realm that has remained without a war for multiple millenniums. And soon you rise to take the crown. Just like those before you.

Him, an outcast of another realm turning his back on the realms and seeking to destroy them. Every last one. Not even looking to rule or be king. Just to make sure no one controls anyone. He grows an army. Some through manipulation and most through promise for a new, better world.

Somewhere along the way you both find each other. Knowing where you both stand yet still being curious.

And so you continue seeing each other. Showing the other wonderful things about the other sides. Longing stares, comforting embraces, and somehow somewhere there’s a bit of hope.

It all moves so quickly. Everything almost blurring by. Long dark nights together and early morning walks near the village. Both become enamored with each other. And soon love.

And soon desire.

It is so different to be around the other person. So life-changing to be with someone in this way. He asks you to run away with him. Become his and rain down on the hierarchy for all the wrongdoings they've managed to carry on for far too long. You ask him to change. To become your new king and change the realms in new ways.

You should've known that he would never change. He could never change. The farthest change he's been through has been meeting, accepting, and loving you. How could you ever want something more of him like this?

And so the time comes. Your realm is believed to be next. The sounds in the village are hushed like everyone is desperately trying not to draw attention to themselves. The maids and butlers have become more skittish to loud noises around the castle.

You look out your window like a cheesy teenage drama. You wish you could run away you wish you had the courage or faith to do so. But something holds you back and you don't have the strength to make it let go.

So the next time you see him you beg and plead for him not to do it. You're on your knees in the damn dirt for him. Trying to save your loved ones and yourself. And he doesn't he stares at you with the same stare you saw the very first time you met him.

And as a last resort, you threaten him. You tell him unspeakable acts will happen to him if he continues this and gets caught. The royals always win you tell him.

His heart burns with anger and more betrayal. How did he think you were ever going to be better than the rest of them? You're just the same in your head royal who has no heart for anyone but themselves and how they want to control people.

He throws you to the floor and makes sure you are aware that he will destroy the realms. All of them. He walks away. Looking at you in disgust. He's hurt, you hurt him. Just like the last royal. Still hasn't changed, he still falls for what royals have to say.

You cry helplessly. Wishing and praying for it all to be different. For the allowance to love him, and your family. For the bravery to run away with him and live on for the rest of your days a simple life filled with adventure. It was so close that you could almost feel it, taste it. But stupid you couldn't do it.

Suddenly you hear the bombs. The ground shakes as if trembling the same way you are. You look to your way back home. Seeing only trees but having great knowledge as to what's behind them. You hear the screams as they fade out and fade back in. As if they are running back and forth unable to decide where to go.

The army must have snuck around before attacking. If there were an army of proper guards there was no way the army could invade this quickly. You started panicking unable to move. You need to calm down. You started breathing in a calming way despite the horrified shake of the earth. And slowly but surely to made your way to stand and move towards the action as quick as possible.

So you started to run. Or more sprint. Towards the screams and deafening booms. You may be the only one that can stop this. And if you could hear the bombs from that far that means the war was far too close to the castle.

When you arrive you're heaving. Your throat burns and is restricting your air. Your body feels so heavy on your legs. You almost convince yourself not to go on. To just sit and rest and hope for the best. They can handle it, correct?

Until you see the scene before you. The whole village has become nothing but large pieces of debris and wooden poking out of it. Bodies have been strewn across the floor like they were nothing but rag dolls a small child didn't want to play with. There were puddles of mud and other puddles or more water than mud.

There was nothing in sight that looked like any of this debris could've been a village a little more than an hour ago. Nothing but the castle. Then you realize you spoke too soon.

The castle suddenly rumbles and breaks all over. It's as if you're watching something in slow motion. The cracks spread across the front of it and circle back around to the beginning of itself. Then like shaking legs the castle gives out on itself and tumbles forward.

You cower and cover your face from the debris that could come your way. Despite not being able to see anything the sounds make you sick to your stomach. Your everything, ripped away from you and gone within a few seconds.

You tear your hands away from your face and the sight is ripping you in two.

In some ways, it's strangely beautiful. A dark red planet sat in the middle of a dark cloudy sky. However, the planet looked more like an eclipse. The very top of it shone a light right back to the floor and a large mountain of rubble and debris led up to it like a staircase.

However, in other ways, it was a mountain of the only home you've ever known. A mountain of rocks and most likely dead bodies crushed and bent in the most disgusting and horrifying ways. The planet shining light on the long-gone village and mocking the fact that it was in fact gone.

You stared at it. Mixed feelings surrounding your head and heart. “We did it,” he says, and as you turn he's standing next to you looking at the sight as well. You want to scream at him. You want to cry and show him how much he's hurt you but you can't muster any words or actions. Then it's too late.

His eyebrows furrow in anger and sadness at the same time before he moves all too quickly. He reaches his arm back and grips you by the waist, almost as if he were to kiss you. You think he is and you don't stop him. He pulls closer before you feel the worst physical pain you've ever experienced.

You look down and in the middle of your stomach, you see it. A dagger thrust into you like you were made of butter. You sputter and reach to stop the pain or do anything just so it’d stop. Then he releases you and you fall to the ground with a large thud. Your head blooms in pain at the fall and there's suddenly a harsh ringing in your ears. Your mind is hazy and slow as you watch him approach the staircase of debris that was all that was left of the castle.

He took large steps and looked as if he owned the place. He climbed up to the very top and placed a large red flag in the debris. He then turned and shouted, “This marks the end of all hierarchy!” Cheers erupted from behind you but you couldn't be bothered to look.

You were touching your wound. Your hands were wet but you weren't registering what it was. Everything looked like it was in slow motion. And every movement made your abdomen burn like fire.

He walked toward his previous spot next to you and you made a feeble attempt to crawl towards him. To beg him to help you. You reached towards inching closer and closer. He just stared at you.

Until you were so close to being within arms reach and he reached his own hand to touch you. But your vision blurred more and more by the second and dark spots danced around as the sky for darker and darker. That's weird, right? How is the sky getting darker? Why is everything else getting darker too? Oh...why is everything completely black now?

Your body had given up. And you were sprawled out on the dirt floor just like every other body around. He let his hand fall back to his side. He stared at your gorgeous face. Although covered and dirt and a bit of blood from the fall. How he wishes things could be different. Then he gets an idea.

Maybe you will be coming home with him afterall.

Extra notes: I’m kinda considering making this like a sequel or smth? Y’know with the cliffhanger it ended on anyways.

Also let me know if there any non-gender neutral stuff in here! I’m not used to writing for GN so it’d really help out! So yea thanks for reading :))

Based off of:

#x reader #crush x reader #m!crush x reader #forbidden romance #royalcore #angel!reader #royal!reader #gn!reader #m!crush #rebel!crush #anyone x reader #favorite x reader

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daddyissuesyo · 3 years

Text

Monsta X Yandere Headcanons

tw: implied sexual content, non-sexual consent violation, murder, suicide, emotional and physical abuse, harm/endangerment, severed ties with family, vulgarity

seriously guys this is intense

Shownu: The Protector

- you pique his attention and he asks you out, seemingly normal

- becomes obsessed after the first date and captures you on the second

- avoids physical harm unless absolutely "necessary" to keep you in line. manipulates you until feeling as though you failed him.

- reckless, unconditional love

- you can't help but reciprocate a little; he's just so caring & attentive

- vanilla sex, because he loves you

- funds EVERYTHING you could possibly want: fluffy comforters and a massive mattress, personal maids, deluxe coffee maker, stuffed animals that he doesn't let you name, etc.

- you thought your dynamic was normal until you caught him dragging the limp body of the postman that accidentally saw you changing into a shed

- from that day forth you feared him, yet didn't stop loving him

- "you are my entire world. my everything. we need each other. forever and then some."

- will not kill you unless he convinces himself others will and death by his hands is the better option

Minhyuk: The Deluded

- i n f a n t i l i z e r

- pities you, oh so much

- thinks you are a helpless baby in dire need of rescuing

- treats you like a porcelain doll & refuses to let you make even the smallest decision for yourself

- convinced you are just as infatuated and dependent on him as he is you

- on good days, he will draw bubble baths, play card games with you, and play G rated movies, pausing every minute to explain what happened

- on bad days, he will yell at you, bind your limbs, and carve his name into your flesh

- simply doesn't understand your disobedience and grief and takes it out on you, hoping to "knock sense into you"

- unlike many yandere archetypes, he enjoys parading you about like an accessory. has friends come over to admire you

- "i know it's too much for you to understand, but you need my care. where is this behavior coming from? don't you love me?"

- you'll kill yourself before he can, driven to the point of insanity

Kihyun: The Jealous

- no pets. no friends. no contact with the outside world aside from media he approves.

- shelters you like mother gothel

- insists you cut off all male contacts, even family (if you are lgbtq, it's best not to reveal this to him because then you won't even be able to speak to female family members)

- doesn't hesitate to murder any man you won't cut off. forces you to watch.

- comforts you afterward in a sick way

- you have to PLEAD to go anywhere

- if he allows it, you must wear a face covering and stay by his side

- tends to be rough in bed; he lets loose all his pent-up frustrations on you

- isn't COMPLETELY out of touch with his humanity; treats you well on birthdays and holidays and even permits a supervised phone call with your mother

- "you overwhelm me. you fill me with so much joy and so much rage. you'll never know the effect you have on me, sweetheart."

- inevitable murder-suicide in the end. i give it no more than 5 years.

Hyungwon: The Sadist

- it's all a game of cat and mouse to him; he kidnapped you while you slept after stalking for quite some time

- keeps you in chains in his basement

- decorates his home with your missing posters like a real sicko

- will torture the living shit out of you with no remorse. inflicting fractures, head trauma, slicing you open, digit dismemberment, drowning, strappado

- gets off on your fear more than your pain

- unlike the others, he recognizes when you're suffering; he just doesn't care

- destroys your self-worth and self-esteem by berating and insulting you. it's your fault you can't tell he means "I love you"

- sex entails bondage, degradation, and cruel laughter. incorporates pet names like: "bunny," "little lamb," "kitty," etc.

- may get bored of you and seek out a new victim, leaving you inexplicably desperate for his attention (which is all part of his game)

- always comes back to you after he's maimed and fucked who knows how many people. and you let him every time, holding out hope that he'll stay

- "you're never going to escape me. i hope you know that."

- would rather almost kill you and keep reviving you. you're in it for the long haul.

Jooheon: The Two-faced

- like shownu, things begin typically

- gradually shows his hand over time, but you're blinded by your feelings for him (he's a very good faux boyfriend)

- waits until your most vulnerable moment to attack

- strict and often overbearing; will beat you black and blue to the point of unconsciousness

- will actually apologize, but he doesn't stop

- tries to keep things around that you enjoy and allow domestic hobbies (congratulates your accomplishments but doesn't want to fuel your ego too much because then you'll leave him)

- struggles with internal conflict over how to treat you. wishes he could be more lenient but can't bring himself to

- allows you to have family and friends over while he's present

- very good at acting normal, it's scary. will flash you a psycho smile after they leave.

- "i'm sorry things have to be this way. if only you could see... i really do love you."

- kills himself in the end due to guilt

Changkyun: The Unhinged

- yes, yandere are psychotic, but changkyun is another level

- if you try to escape or resist him, he just stares at you with round eyes, slowly growing a grin that turns into a crazy laughing fit

- protects you from outside forces, unaware that he's the greatest danger in your life

- only upside is he takes you out on the town

- slaps across the face. sometimes at random, just to let you know he's in control

- you live on eggshells, unsure if he's in a loving or violent mood

- a strange dichotomy of worshipping you and craving your attention, yet feeling like you should be the one begging for him

- fucks hard and often, but can't look at you after

- owns an industrial freezer and locks you in there until you collapse from hypothermia III

- "w-were you trying to escape? FUCK no. what don't you understand, hon? you're my fucking property."

- will stab you repeatedly in the end, smiling with tears streaming down his face

Would anyone be interested in me developing these characters/storylines further?

#monsta x #monsta x yandere #yandere #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x fanfic #monsta x reaction #monsta x scenarios #monsta x smut #yandere au #shownu #hyungwon #minhyuk #kihyun #jooheon #changkyun #smut #monsta x angst #angst

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Two Barbarians (3)

Title: Two Barbarians (3)

Square Filled for @spnabobingo (Round 6): Overprotective alpha

Ship: Alpha(Prince)!Dean Winchester x Omega(Princess)!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Grandmother Millie

Rating: Mature

Summary: Dean is determined to make you see you’re his omega.

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, scenting, true mates, comforting, fluff, overprotective alpha, light oral (fem rec), mentions of oral (male rec), implied smut, mentions of knotting, implied claiming, cuddling & snuggling, possessive alpha, coming in pants (untouched)

Word Count: 2,2k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

<< Part 2

One week before the wedding, …

“Dean, it feels odd,” you whimper, feeling his tongue lap at your exposed sex. He moans against you, smirking when your hands snap toward his head to tug at his hair. “My Prince, are you sure we are allowed to do this before our wedding night?”

“My love, you are so sweet down there,” he purrs. “You taste like heaven, sweetheart. Now let me touch you again. I want to make you feel so good. Don’t you like it?”

“I like it a lot,” you bite your lower lip. “It feels so good when you touch my petals,” heat creeps into your cheeks when Dean’s tongue flick your sensitive nub. “But I don’t want anyone else to touch me like that.”

“No one will dare to touch my omega,” Dean’s head snaps upward and you can see possessiveness in his emerald orbs. “Only I can touch you down there or anywhere, my little skunk.”

“Please, don’t stop,” whining you look down your body. “Dean, can I touch you too tonight? I want to touch your manhood, please.”

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, slowly crawling up your body. You can feel his arousal press against your slicked sex, and you know, he wants you as much as you yearn to give yourself to him. “Only one week left. You can touch me as much as you want to in not a week.”

“One of the ladies said I should take your knot in my mouth,” you blur out. “Do you want me to?” innocently glancing at Dean you move your hand to his swelling length. “This feels so hard, my prince. I could help you and use my tongue and lips.”

“My love,” a throaty purr leaves your lips when Dean burrows his face in your neck to inhale your scent. “Please don’t make me weak. If you don’t stop, I claim and knot you tonight and no one is going to stop me.”

“Why didn’t you claim me during my heat?” you whisper. “Why giving me herbs to suppress it? I wanted you to make me yours.”

“Rowena offered her help, and I took the chance to get to know you better before I knot, claim and make love to you,” Dean nuzzles your cheek, moaning when you grasp for him, roughly pressing the alpha to your heated body, hips rocking against Dean’s crotch.

“My prince, uh—your pants are wet,” you giggle. “Is this normal, Dean? I mean, are you hurt or sick?”

“I just came in my pants,” he sighs deeply. His cheeks shades of pink he looks down at you. “I couldn’t stop my manhood from wanting you.”

“OH! Did you knot your pants?” he laughs, shaking his head at your question. “What? Don’t you knot an omega all the time?”

“Most of the time we only use our manhood, my little skunk,” Dean pecks your lips, nibbling at your lower lip. “Alphas knot their omega during heats, our ruts, or when we mate for the first time.”

“Not for fun?”

“Naughty little skunk,” pressing his lips to your mating gland he moans. “You taste so good, Y/N. One more week and I’ll show you my knot.”

“Is it big? Lady Lisa said an alpha must have a big knot to satisfy his omega,” you shyly glance at Dean, chewing on your lower lip.

“I got the biggest knot you’ll ever see,” nodding you smile up at your alpha. “I’m gonna fill you with my pups and show everyone I stole my arch-nemesis daughter’s heart.”

“Slow, sweetheart,” Dean holds your hand, carefully helps you move down the stairs. “We don’t want you to stumble and fall again. My little skunk is a clumsy omega.”

“I’m not clumsy,” you protest. “I was in a hurry, scared and heartbroken.” You sniffle, looking around the throne room. “Is she really gone? I don’t want to see her again.”

“No one is going to hurt you,” he whispers in your ear. “Everyone knows you are my chosen omega. You believe me, right.”

“You didn’t threaten to put me in the dungeon lately,” Dean smirks when you squeeze his hand a little tighter. “And you didn’t yell at me.”

“I tried to tame my temper for you, sweetheart. I can’t promise to always be patient, but I’ll try my best. Promised.”

“Will you,” leaning closer to Dean to whisper the words you press his hand to your heart, “do this thing with your tongue again too? I like it a lot, my prince.”

“Son, we need to talk about a few things before the wedding,” John whispers, jabbing his thumb over his left shoulder. “Your grandmother is about to change everything again. Please, help your king out.”

“I can’t leave my omega all alone,” Dean wraps his arm tightly around your shoulders. “She could get hurt again! I need to stay by her side all the time.”

“Dean, you didn’t leave your bride’s side for over a month. She can barely breathe without you worrying,” laughing at your pained expression John looks you all over. “She looks healthy and happy. Let your grandmother tell her about the new musicians and food. We can talk about the hunt to honor your wedding.”

“I can’t—” Dean snarls at his father, immediately shoving you behind his back. “No one is getting close to my omega. Stay away from Y/N.”

“Something wrong?” Sam cocks his head to glance at you behind his brother’s back. “Why are you hiding Y/N behind your back? Is she sick or scared?”

“Hands off my omega, Sammy,” Dean threatens, finger poking his brother’s chest. “You looked at her too often for my liking. She’s my omega, my chosen bride.”

“Dean, I was just worried about her. Did you forget you threatened to put her in the dungeon?” furrowing his brows Sam looks at his brother. “What? Got nothing to say?”

“Back then she was just the enemy’s daughter,” Dean growls when Sam dares to get closer to you. “Now she’s my bride and omega. Don’t get any closer.”

“Sam,” John holds his youngest son back. “Dean’s scent just got stronger. I think he’s close to his rut and it’s not a good idea to get too close to his omega right now. Give him a bit of time.”

“She’s mine,” before you can protest Dean scoops you into his arms to run away with you. “I dare you to even look at her!”

Three days before the wedding,…

“Son, this is not—” watching Dean cover your body with his larger frame John sighs deeply. Your alpha placed almost all of his clothes on the bed, wrapped you into a warm blanket before he caged you with his body. “Don’t suffocate your omega.”

“I need to keep her save,” Dean grumbles. He looks you all over again, checks every part of you before he lies on the bed, waiting for you to curl in his side. “I don’t want you to get closer. This is my omega and our nest.”

“He’s so protective,” you purr, nuzzling your alpha’s neck, rubbing his scent onto your skin. “My king, you should leave us alone. I’ll try to calm him down, but I’m afraid it’s no use.”

“I got a sword and a dagger,” threatening his father Dean whips his head toward John. “She’s mine and I must keep close to me.”

“Dean, you got it bad for her,” laughing John slowly steps backward. “I just wanted to tell you everything is prepared for your wedding. You only need to attend the wedding.”

“We will,” one strong arm slings around your waistline and you squeak when Dean burrows his face in your neck to positively lick your mating gland.

“Dean, my prince,” you push against how shoulder feeling his erection press against your thigh. “ALPHA!”

“Soon you are mine,” he hums to himself, licking your untouched mating gland. “I won’t let anyone get close to you ever again. My omega, my princess.”

“Maybe I should hide in the dungeon for the time being,” sighing deeply you rest your head against Dean’s shoulder. “I will sleep now, alpha. I promise to not run away.”

“If you hide in the dungeon, I’ll follow you,” Dean states, kissing your neck. “Sleep, I’ll watch over you and make sure no one touches what’s mine.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” pressing your lips to his chin you smile. “I feel safe with you, alpha. But you need sleep to my prince. Promise to sleep a bit.”

“Promised,” Dean lies but you are too tired to argue tonight. “Maybe in the morning after you woke.”

Wedding Day, ...

Dean circles his father and brother like prey snarls now and then before he starts to pace around the altar. “What if anything happens to her while I’m not with her? I will kill anyone touching her!”

“Son, that is enough!” John’s voice echoes through the church. “Your chosen bride is safe with the maids. Three knights guard the room and will accompany her to the church. Nothing is going to happen to her.”

“Brother, look—” Dean stops in his tracks when the doors to the church opens and everyone gets up from their seats to watch you walk down the aisle.

Grandmother Millie, John’s mother, leads you down the aisle, smiling wildly when Dean purrs low in his throat the moment you take his offered hand.

“You look beautiful, my little skunk,” you giggle when Dean whispers the words in your ear before he pecks your cheek.

“It’s your grandmother’s dress,” smiling at your groom you let him hold your hand tightly. Dean breaks all rules. He doesn’t follow the protocol for a royal wedding. He simply holds your hand, not wanting to let go of you.

“Only your beauty makes it look like a dream,” Dean roams your body with his eyes, smiling at you. You are wearing Millie’s wedding gown. It’s a ruby, long, form-fitting gown with a wide neckline, long sleeves, and gold embroidery.

You wish you could listen to the priest’s words, but all you can do is to look into Dean’s eyes. There is adoration and love in those mysterious orbs, and you wonder if he looked a girl like that before.

While your heart beats faster the longer you look at Dean, you forget about the wedding and that people are watching you and the prince.

“My prince, you must take your vows now,” the priest tuts, and Grandmother Millie chuckles. “We are all waiting for you.”

Listening to Dean’s vows you whimper silently. Instead of facing the priest, he looks at you all the time.

“—for better or worse, in sickness and in health, to death us depart,” he ends, looking at you, expectantly. “Your turn,” Dean whispers and you try to remember the words. “I’m here with you my love.”

Dean couldn’t leave the feast fast enough. He almost ran toward the chamber the maids prepared for your wedding night.

“Dean, slow down!”

“I finally got permission to touch you,” he purrs, smirking when you start to squirm in his hold. “Lemme bring you to our chamber and make you my omega. That’s all I want, my little skunk.”

“No more dungeon?”

“No more dungeon, sweetheart. Only our chamber and later, a warm and safe nest,” he kisses you softly, moaning when you wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, my barbarian. Now make me yours...”

“How does it feel?” Dean licks over the mark he left on your neck. “Does it hurt? Do you need anything?”

“It feels odd,” you feel the heat creep into your cheeks again when Dean shifts his hips and his knot twitches deep inside of you. “I read the books but didn’t think it will stay inside almost all night.”

“Did I hurt you? You felt pleasure…right?” worriedly kissing your hair Dean sighs when you do not answer his questions.

“Twice—” whispering the words you look over your shoulder to face your alpha. “At least I think it was twice. It could’ve been more.”

“That’s good,” puffing his chest Dean gives you a dirty grin. “My knot will fade soon, and we can sleep a bit. I don’t want you to be tired in the morning.”

“I liked it, my prince. Can we do this more often?” a deep growl leaves Dean’s throat and you squeak when he buries his face in your neck to bite you playfully. “Your knot, it’s big.”

“We will do it every night if you want us to,” he smirks when you squirm in his hold. “Or more often.”

“Every night,” Dean wraps his arms tightly around your body to keep you warm.

The winter is close and he feels it in his bones, it will be a dark and cold time. But with you by his side, he’ll never be cold again.

“Everyone waits for us to confirm we are expecting my heir, Y/N. I must knot and make love to you every night.”

“You are a liar,” you tut. “I know you only want to lie with me again. I see the hunger in your eyes, alpha.”

“Well, my love,” he nips at your neck, “I’m a barbarian after all. And now that you are in my arms and wear my mark. You are a barbarian too…”

“I love being yours, Dean. I love you, my barbarian…”

“I love you too, my little skunk.”

THE END...

Tags in reblog.

#Two Barbarians #spnabobingo #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean x omegareader #Alpha!Dean x PrincessReader #prince dean #royal au #a/b/o

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booasaur · 3 years

Note

I know there’s bigger fish to fry but am I the only one annoyed by how seohyun treated the housekeepers & ms joo? Like it really reminded me that the show is Rich Asshole World lol. Like she made the housekeepers get rid of the poison gas & threatened them even tho they had nothing to do w the situation, & she tossed ms joo out for saving hisoo?? Was she just supposed to let jiyong murder her ? I was disappointed by those events.

Omg, you're definitely not. I actually had a discussion about that with my friend, who I've been recommending the show to but did want to warn about this aspect, which I didn't like.

As you mentioned, it wasn't just today's ep with Ms. Joo but yesterday as well, threatening them about the poison bottles, and several times before too, it's been treated as just part of the whole game or even "funny", where all these people are really treated as pawns and if they're on Ji-Yong's side then they're seen as disposable. The caretaker that Ji-Yong hired that Seo-Hyun then fired and shouted at, for example, as if she was literally his ally or something, or that other male house staffer she straight up admitted she understood had no choice but to listen to Ji-Yong but then fired anyway.

Like, she is mostly better to them than he was but that's not saying much and considering so much of her character has been about her nobility and compassion and ability to see how powerless the servants are, her inherent snobbery and it not really being called out by the narrative left a sour taste. Especially in today's ep, Ms. Joo's part really bothered me and it felt kind of unnecessary for the whole show? If she knows too much about the family, wouldn't you keep her closer?? And exactly, like you said, she did it purely to save Hi-Soo?? It felt like they wanted to throw in a bit of pathos at the end and went with her. Which, credit where it's due, the actress sold SO well, I genuinely teared up when she was saying goodbye to Hi-Soo. But for real, how is this action the one that's beyond the pale, unlike people stealing and spying and whatnot. She should be rewarded!

And in comparison, I don't love that Jin-Ho is basically redeemed, despite slapping Ms. Joo and having been pretty gross before, remember when he slapped Soo-Hyuk and it was implied how badly he treated his mother (and the other many women who Seo-Hyun has to deal with)? It's just very different standards, like you said. He's the one who straight up put out an assassination contract? Just because he's an idiot and lonely doesn't mean it's all good. And oh, Yu-Yeon at the end, that poor maid getting fired again and it's just treated as comedy.

My friend brought up the point that you kind of have to accept this, because the show doesn't work otherwise, and that does make sense. Because if you actually realize how unfair the system itself is, and not just individual people within it, there's no way that there can be a happy ending until the whole thing is upended. It's not just that Ji-Yong shouldn't be leading it, it's that nobody should, wealth disparity of this kind should be dismantled. Lmao, I remember thinking in the middle of this ep specifically of that line from Hacks when Ava first sees Deborah's house and is like, "...we need a wealth tax."

But yeah, it especially sucks to see it from Seo-Hyun. I kind of wish they'd just not included some of this at all, rather than acknowledging it and then being not great about it. :x The servants were often framed extremely sympathetically and there's no doubt that Ms. Joo in the finale definitely was, but I literally said this about Seo-Hyun's potential ending the other day, right, that tragedy inspires sympathy but happy endings normalize. We could have seen her happy in the epilogue, right. The servants will always take a backseat to the main characters.

On the LGBT and feminism fronts, the show did so well, but a bit of flailing on the classism part does make me a bit sad, because, you know, compassion is compassion, and the lack of it for certain people does affect my reading of the whole show. But this wasn't a dealbreaker and as long as you stay in the rich people drama part, it's fine, and that's what I'm mostly going to try to do, given the other great things the show definitely has done.

#replies #femslash related stuff #sent on 20210627 #Anoymous #5 #tvn mine #mine spoilers #mine 1x16 #mine 1x15 #and others #not this being what I had the most thoughts about after the finale >_>#but it really did sit on my mind #I liked the happy endings the main three got of course #I think I just needed to get it out #it just stood out all the more for how much I liked everything else I guess #the one big blemish

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linkspooky · 4 years

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Frankenstein and the Monster

So there is loads of speculation on a connection between Dabi and Frankenstein’s monster. There are several people who have already commented on it, here, here, and even here. (These are all the ones I could dig up recently). Frankenstein is a novel that can be read in many ways, but I believe the themes of the novel parallels and helps illustrate the relationship between Ujiko, Endeavor and Dabi.

1. Endeavor and Victor Frankenstein

To very briefly touch upon the novel for those who haven’t read it, there are several differences between Boris Karloff’s movie depiction and the original novel. In the novel the creature is intelligent, well spoken, and a reflection of the Doctor Frankenstein himself. To summarize quickly, Frankenstein a very dramatic undergrad student discovers the secret to reviving the dead, uses that to create a monster, then upon seeing how ugly it is flees. The monster grows up in isolation, is spurned by every human he comes across, and then returns to his master and says he will kill everyone the Doctor Loves unless he creates him a mate. Frankenstein destroys the mate, and then the monster destroys his wife to be on the night of their wedding then they chase each other around in the arctic until both of them die. If that wasn’t a sufficient enough summary, this crash course video is a good writeup of the book and it’s themes.

Frankenstein has a lot to say about science and treading in god’s domain, but it’s also written by a woman who was a teenager at the time (Mary Shelley) who existed in a soical circle of adult men who were much older than her. Just as much as it’s a novel about mad science gone wrong, there are strong themes of feminism, parenthood, and abuse intertwined in the novel.

Another popular reading is to interpret “Frankenstein” autobigraophically, a reading that was encouraged via 1970s feminist criticism of the novel. Earlier readings along those lines centered Frankenstein as a tale of monstrous birth and look to Mary Shelley’s own experiences with birth, which were pretty terrible.

Mary Shelley’s mother died when giving birth to her, and Mary and Shelley’s own first child, a daughter, died when she was just a few weeks old. And in her journal Mary recounted an incredibly sad dream about this daughter. “Dream that my little baby came to life again; that it had only been cold and that we rubbed it before the fire and lived.” [Crash Course: Frankenstein]

This is just some background information to add context to your reading. Percey Shelley first met Mary when she was 14, and eloped with her when she was 16 and already pregnant with his child (he was around 24 at the time). Not only that but Percey was married at the time when he eloped with Mary, and his wirst wife did not take it well.

Harriet (Westbrook) Shelley was Percy Shelley's first wife. While he was still married to her, he ran off with Mary Shelley, leaving Harriet pregnant and alone with their first child. She committed suicide on November 9, 1816 by drowning herself in Serpentine. [x]

As I said these details are all to add context to Mary Shelley’s life while she was writing Frankenstein. A book in which most of the female characters are severely mistreated and harmed.

There are some pretty feminist critiques to Frankenstein. For instance, the novel clearly shows what harm comes to women (and family and relationships) when men pursue single-minded goals. In fact thanks to Victor’s lack of work life balance pretty much all of the women in this novel die. Victor’s creation of the monster leads to the hanging of the servant Justine the murder of Victor’s bride Elizabeth on their wedding night. [Crash Course: Frankenstein]

To put it as frankly as possible (Haha, get it because frankenstein) there are several points in the novel in which both Victor and Frankenstein act like fuckboys.

You could easily read the story as one of male entitlement. Victor in the first place, deliberately refers to his bride to be Elizabeth as a possession and says it as a term of affection.

And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine—mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed on her I received as made to a possession of my own. We called each other familiarly by the name of cousin. No word, no expression could body forth the kind of relation in which she stood to me—my more than sister, since till death she was to be mine only.

His actions towards Elizabeth in the novel are also, extremely neglectful. Elizabeth spends the novel passively waiting for him to return and marry her, but Victor has a habit of disappearing from her life for long periods at a time with no contact at all in pursuit of his endeavors. (Get it because I’m comparing Victor to Endeavor).

Elizabeth is someone he feels entitled to own, and entitled to her love (he literally thinks his parents gave him to her) and yet Victor never takes responsibility for Elizabeth and her feelings too wrapped up in his own. When Elizabeth is grieving for the losses of her family, Victor has a tendency to leave her alone to go off to sulk on his own. Elizabeth even pleads multiple times for Victor to come home, to offer some support for the rest of the family with his mere presence and Victor delays these returns home as long as possible.

“Get well—and return to us. You will find a happy, cheerful home and friends who love you dearly. Your father’s health is vigorous, and he asks but to see you, but to be assured that you are well; and not a care will ever cloud his benevolent countenance.

This treatment also extends to the rest of Victor’s family, who are people he seriously neglects throughout the novel, and also people who are the direct sufferers of the consequences of his actions. His youngest brother is killed, the maid is framed for the murder, Elizabeth dies on the wedding night, Clerval his closest friend is killed, and his father dies soon afterwards of old age / implied grief.

The monster who Victor creates is also a reflection of him. After knowing the suffering it is to be created as a creature with no family, and no place of belonging he then instructs Victor to make him a woman. A woman that will have no choice but to love him because they will be the only two alone in the world. The monster, also feels entitled to feminine love because he is lonely, with no thought to whether or not the second monster might have feelings, opinions or her own, or might not even like him.

“You must create a female for me, with whom I can live in the interchange of those sympathies necessary for my being. This you alone can do; and I demand it of you as a right which you must not refuse.”

The recurring theme is this: a sense of male entitlement, without a sense of responsibility. What do I mean by Male Entitlement?

Male entitlement is a product of traditional societal norms. It is cultivated in men as they join a society which usually favors them over the other genders in their careers, relationships, character-standing, and more. There’s more on it here, and the role of male entitlement in abuse.

Male entitlement is an attitude where men believe they are entitled to power over others, and/ or ownership of the women and children in their lives. Victor calls Elizabeth a possession given to him, and neglects her throughout most of the book. The monster believes he deserves to have a woman to love him. It’s not masculinity. Masculinity is just masculinity. It’s the belief that they are entitled to power or ownership over others simply because they are men born in a society that favors men. Male entitlement can show up in say, a father who believes he is entitled to the love of his children despite never doing any of the actual work of childrearing and pushing it all on the mother. Believing they deserved to be loved simply for being a father, while being absolutely absent for their lives. GUESS WHAT HAPPENS IN FRANKENSTEIN.

So, a lot of people interpret Frankenstein as a story of ambition gone wrong, but that interpretation feels like it’s missing something if you don’t include the feminist angle. Frankenstein when doing his mad scientist undergrad bit speculates how he would be a father of a new species. It is specifically, fatherhood accomplished without a mother. That this new species would owe him love.

A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me.

An undeniable part of Victor’s motivation is that as the sole creator the child would owe him all of their love. I mean to once again connect this to abuse narratives how many real life parents believe their children have to love them no matter how poorly they treat them?

No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs.

Victor in the novel wants not only fatherhood, but also motherhood. He wants to create life which in victorian society at the time is the role of the woman. And yet at the same time, he doesn’t want to do any of the actual work of motherhood and the roles typically described to women.

We can read the novel as an exploration of what happens when men fear, distrust, or devalue women so much that they attempt to reeproduce without them. In some ways Victor is trying to bypass the feminine altogether. He’s creating life without recourse to egg or womb. [Crash Course: Frankenstein]

Victor creates, and then proceeds to take no responsibility for his creation. He abandons the child for the most shallow of reasons (because it was ugly and looked scary), then leaves a sentient, thinking creature with no idea who it was, or why it was alive in the middle of the mountains hoping it starves to death on his own so he doesn’t have to deal with it.

but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, I rushed out of the room and continued a long time traversing my bed-chamber.

Victor is the creatures parent, but takes no responsibility as a parent for raising the creature. In fact the child is punished when they are still an innocent, just for not turning out the way their creator intended.

Frankenstein is a novel which portrays consistently men who aspire to greatness as described in their society (scientific invention, and in the framing device arctic exploration) but who consistently fail everyone in their lives at the most basic levels. In other words as Lizzo said, “Why men great, till they gotta be great.”

This is where the fire comes in. The original post talks about dichotomy of fire as something that both helps and harms. Fire is a symbol in this book that can be read two different ways, and I think special context should be given to the subtitle of the story. “The Modern Prometheus”, a story which in classical times is a story of hubris where Prometheus steals fire from the heavens and is punished for it. Hubris in the classical greek sense means that a human acting like they know better than the gods. However, the story has a different interpretation in the Romantic / Enlightenment era where Prometheus is seen as a heroic figure stealing fire away from the gods to give knowledge to mankind.

Fire in the book represents both. Victor is someone who has hubris, he assumes he’s a father who deserves the love of a child and sole responsbility for the creation of another being (effectively making him god), but abandons the creature literally five minutes after finishing him and makes no real attempt to take any effort in raising what is effectively his child. It’s also a story about Victor having ambitions to be great, and to do what no man has done before him. I don’t think the story emphasizes that ambitions are bad, but rather the dual nature of ambition as something like fire, something that can either warm or harm.

He came upon a fire “which had been left” by humans (Vol. II, Ch. III), so a human tool left in nature. He was “overcome with delight” and joy, but touching it brought him pain. “How strange, [he thinks], that the same cause could produce such opposite effects!” He has learned the dichotomy of flame – to save and to hurt. [x]

Okay, now that we’re done witht hat extremely long essay on an english novel let’s actually talk about the manga where a goth stuck in his rebellious teenage phase tries to light his dad on fire.

I’m going to be comparing the novel to Dabi and Endeavor in two aspects.

Male entitlement, believing you deserve the love of a child without acting responsibly as a father.

Fire, ambition as something that both helps and burns.

Victor and Endeavor both are characters that decide to create children for very self serving reasons, and treat their families for the majority of their lives as tools to their own ambition. Endeavor wants a child that will carry out his ambitions for him, that he can live vicariously through. It’s not even an interpretation it’s directly stated text.

Endeavor’s mad science also literally has him treat the woman in his life as tools to use for his own amibition. He fores a marriage on a woman to use her as an unwilling accessory to his eugenics project.

It is not specifically a story of ambition got wrong, it’s also a story of neglect and abuse of all the women in his life. Endeavor’s ambitions all center around personal greatness for him. Shoto will prove his worth as a hero, as a mentor to him, as a great father. The fact that his motives are entirely selfish, (Endeavor is not focused on being the best hero he can be, but rather his own desire to be the strongest) is something that has an affect on his family and children.

Fuyumi, Touya, and Natsuo are literally afterthoughts to Endeavor despite being just as much his children as Shoto. He literally only thinks of Rei in the context of “I needed her to give me a family.” Not only that but he’s also an extremely bad father to the one child that he does take an active role in trying to parent, acting extremely controlling towards Shoto and getting extremely angry whenever Shoto did anything that was outside of Endeavor’s wishes for Shoto to fulfill his ambitions.

Endeavor just like Victor, inspires to greatness as a man and wants the signifiers of that as held up by society, accomplishment (Endeavor wants to be the number one rank even though he technically has far more resolved cases than All Might and the rank is literally just a number), family, and recognition despite having done none of the work. Once again why men great till they gotta be great. At the start of his arc, Endeavor feels entitled to Shoto’s love and obedience, and a role in his life, despite the fact that he’s hideously abused him for most of his life.

Endeavor like Victor, also abandons several children for failing to meet his expectations.

Part of Natsuo’s problem with Endeavor has exactly to do this sense of entitlement, Endeavor practically abandons his kids until they’re in their early twenties to the point where he wasn’t involved in their lives at all (and also separated them from their mother). Remember another point of the book is that Victor wants sole parenthood, to create life without involvement of a woman.

Endeavor does the exact same thing. He separates the children from their mother. Then while he is the only parent left in the household and effectively responsible for all of his children, he neglects most of them and completely fails to raise them.

It’s implied besides trying to teach Shoto to use his quirk, he’s literally pushed all of the housework, and actual parenting you know, labor that is involved in raising a child onto Fuyumi. Fuyumi has cooked most of Shoto’s meals, it’s Fuyumi who attends his school conference in the novels. Endeavor has effectively committed the same crime as Victor, creating life and then running away from it by failing to act in any way as the father to his own children. His sense of entitlement shows in his actions and the way he treats the people around him in his life, he uses them for his own ambitions and they get burned.

Endeavor is someone who has used all of the women in his life for his ambitions. Think Fuyumi, she grew up desperately wanting a family while having effectively no father and all contact cut off from her mother, and also had to take care of household chores and responsibility for both of her younger brothers. Think Rei, who has literally been institutionalized for ten years, and trauma from her experiences that haunts her to this day. Natsuo is someone who has no father, almost no relationship with his younger brother, and is still mourning his other dead brother. Shoto evens tates directly, he views Endeavor as someone to learn how to use his quirk from but hasn’t viewed him once as a father. Endeavor’s never been present as a father in Shoto’s life, despite controlling most of it and giving him all of the attention. He had ambition to pass his quirk from father to son, but never actually acted as a father.

Endeavor’s treatment of his family, and his reflection for his past actions is also shown using this metaphor for fire. All Might’s ambition to become the strongest hero for the sake of a more peaceful society, is also represented by fire. Especially a flame that he passes from one person to the next, that Nana passed to him, and he passed to Deku.

Endeavor is almost always associated with the more violent aspect of fire, when he thinks of the harm he’s done to his family it’s always juxtaposed to the fire on his face.

(The right side fire, the left side Rei’s suffering face.)

Whereas the more gentle associations with fire are almost made with Shoto. Once again the novel of Frankenstein doesn’t decry ambition, it merely explores the consequences of ambitions that were extremely self-interested from the start. Endeavor only wanted to be strong for his own sake. Shoto who wanted to become a hero like All Might who would never make his mother cry, and All Might who wanted to create a safer society are people with strong ambitions that are associated with gentler flames.

2. Dabi and Frankenstein’s Monster

Sins of the Father or Sins of the Fathers derives from biblical references primarily in the books Exodus, Deuteronomy, and Numbers to the sins or iniquities of one generation passing to another. Basically what it means is its a narrative trope where children are punished or suffer consequences for the action of their fathers. It can also mean that children inevitably reflect what their fathers have done to them, and even resemble their fathers.

Everything the monster does is a reflection of Frankentstein’s actions. Everything Dabi does is both a consequence and a reflection of Endeavor’s actions. They are both written as sons to be narrative foils to their creator. If anything Dabi is even more of a frankenstein’s monster than Shoto, because a key element to the narrative is that Frankenstein was abandoned for not being perfect according to his creator’s wishes, he was punished for a defect.

Touya just like frankenstein is a defective creation. One who suffers all of the consequences for what are his father’s sins. Endeavor deliberately took risks with his eugenics experiment that the child might have a quirk not compatible with their body, but it’s the child and not the parent who suffers all of the consequences. Toya literally died - whether he faked his death or not has yet to be revealed but he lost his home and family at a young age, spent most of his life homeless, and has to continually make use of a quirk that burns his entire body. Whether he wants them or not, his father’s sins are pushed onto Dabi.

The flame that Endeavor is so keen on passing to his children, has literally permanently disabled Dabi, and will negatively effect him for the rest of his life. Consequences that Endeavor ought to suffer are passed onto Dabi instead. Dabi is burned by Endeavor’s actions towards him.

This is once again something deliberately brought up by the book Frankenstein. The doctor creates life, takes absolutely no responsibility and leaves his creature to starve to death in the wilderness, and then the first time they meet again calls upon his creation to die.

“I expected this reception,” said the dæmon. “All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us. You purpose to kill me. How dare you sport thus with life?

The decision to create life irresponsibly was Victor’s, but the person who suffers the brunt end of the consequences is not Victor, but rather the creature itself who just like Dabi has no home, and is constistently hurt by the environment around him.

Dabi is also a symbol of the worst possible aspects of Endeavor’s ambitions.

To compare Victor and the monster briefly. Victor

Has family / friends

Home / Money / Wealth

Arrogant / Well Educated

Self-Destructive

A tool

The Monster

Abandoned

Ignorant (at first)

Homeless

A tool, but a more sympathetic one.

As you can see they are societally complete opposites. This can be said for Endeavor as well, he still gets to keep his family, his place in society despite what he’s done, he’s wealthy, succesful and well-liked in his community. Dabi is permanently disabled because of something his father did, is legally dead, homeless, separated from his family, and is a villain.

While they are completely opposite in status, the monster and Victor are eerily similiar. They are both highly intelligent people who carry a strong ambition within them. The Monster basically learns speech, and reading all on his own, and as soon as he can be becomes as well-read as possible.

Fortunately the books were written in the language, the elements of which I had acquired at the cottage; they consisted of Paradise Lost, a volume of Plutarch’s Lives, and the Sorrows of Werter. The possession of these treasures gave me extreme delight; I now continually studied and exercised my mind upon these histories, whilst my friends were employed in their ordinary occupations.

The monster also shares several of his father’s sin. He repeats the sins that have been done on to him, in the name of vengeance. Frankenstein’s claim is that he was hurt when he was still an innocent, punished before he had done anything wrong, but he also does the exact same thing to VIctor’s youngest brother killing him when he was just a child.

Victor’s worst sin by far is selfish entitlement, forgetting to consider the feelings of his creation. Yet, the monster knowing how much he suffered by just being created in a world where there’s no one else like him also demands Victor create another creature. This is out of his own personal sense of entitlement, he believes he’s entitled to have someone love him, and if he had this he would be a good person again.

He believes quite literally he deserves an Eve to share his loneliness in. His own personal feelings of grief and hurt matter more than those of: one the people he kills, and two a potential woman who would be created only to love him.

But it was all a dream; no Eve soothed my sorrows nor shared my thoughts; I was alone. I remembered Adam’s supplication to his Creator. But where was mine? He had abandoned me, and in the bitterness of my heart I cursed him.

The monster also feels entitled to punish Frankenstein, but in this reccuring sins of the fathers he punishes people who are completely innocent of the crime that Frankenstein did to him and have nothing to do with his creation, just to get back at Frankenstein. Including, an innocent boy, a maid who he framed for murder, Frankenstein’s friend, and also Elizabeth.

Dabi inevitably reflects his father and the environment he was raised in, and resembles him. Dabi who was raised by a quirk supremacist and thrown out because his quirk wasn’t good enough, kills people he doesn’t find worthy. Dabi’s methods are almost entirely based around his his individual strength because he was raised to believe that was the only good part of him. The same way Dabi was thrown out like burnable trash for failing to live up to his standards, Dabi will enact harsh vigilante justice and kill minor crimminals and heroes who fail to live up to his justice.

Just like for the monster’s actions in punishing Victor, Dabi is called to consider the feelings of family’s of the people he kills. He is also punishing people completely unrelated to what happened to him, in his efforts to hold his father accountable.

Dabi reflects his father, and quirk society the same things that burned him. He continually believes he has to be the strongest individually, accomplish everything on his own, and spurn others around him. Even those who try to make genuine connections with him like the league of villains. Dabi believes that the world has to be changed with the strength of ambitions of a single person, and his ambitions are far more important than the sense of family within the league.

Dabi effectively distances himself from two families, the found family of the league, and also his original biological family. Think about how much it might save Natsuo to lean that his brother is still alive. Shoto at least, doesn’t want to see his father roasted alive on live television.

Dabi’s ambitions are as self destructive as his fathers, as he only knows how to fight by completely burning his body up. He harms himself over and over again by using his quirk to try to change things.

3. Endeavor and Ujiko

The book ultimately poses the question who is responsible for the actions of the monster, Frankenstein or the Monster itself. However, I think an element missed in a lot of analysis is that the mosnter accepts that most of what he has done is wrong, he just wants people to be held equally accountable for their actions.

“You, who call Frankenstein your friend, seem to have a knowledge of my crimes and his misfortunes. But in the detail which he gave you of them he could not sum up the hours and months of misery which I endured wasting in impotent passions. For while I destroyed his hopes, I did not satisfy my own desires. They were for ever ardent and craving; still I desired love and fellowship, and I was still spurned. Was there no injustice in this? Am I to be thought the only criminal, when all humankind sinned against me? Why do you not hate Felix, who drove his friend from his door with contumely? Why do you not execrate the rustic who sought to destroy the saviour of his child?

The monster’s problem is not that he shouldn’t be held accountable for his actions, but rather that he’s the only one whose ever held accountable for his actions. The Monster also spends most of the narrative being treated as a monster, whereas Frankenstein faces no real consequences for what he’s done from the people around him, never loses his standing in society, never is cast out for his wrongs. Frankenstein continually avoids any and all responsibility towards the monster up until his death, and only takes responsibility in violently trying to kill his creation.

There are also oppurtunities for Frankenstein to take responsibility, which he chooses not to do anything. An innocent maid is about to be executed for a crime that Frankenstein knows she did not commit, and instead of trying to help her by explaining to everyone his creation of the creature, and also that the creature is likely responsible for the murder he says nothing. While not responsible for the women’s death, he is culpable in that he could have taken action to save her but didn’t.

Franketnstein’s actions are again and again always to run away from the monster and avoid responsibility. From the beginning he runs away from the monster due to it simply being ugly. Both the monster (and also Toya) were punished when they were innocent children who had not committed any kind of crime, by the person who was responsible for raising them, educating them, and giving them everything they needed to become happy adults.

“Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.”

While Frankenstein and the Monster both entitled, their reasons for entitlement come from entirely different places. Frankenstein’s comes from his own arrogance, believing that he’s destined to do great things, and be a man of status and accomplishment. Why men great till they gotta be great.

The monster believes he’s entitled to a family, because his father abandoned him, and he’s been homeless most of his life. The monster is violent, but only after he’s endured violence from people several times over. The monster is ultimately a victim of circumstance, and Frankenstein is the one who created that circumstance.

Considering Frankenstein and the monster are foils, there’s a reason that Frankenstein fears and abhors the monster before it’s even awake. It’s because the monster reflects the ugliness of his own actions. The ugliness in himself that he is completely unable to face. He is a negative character foil in a character sense, and a shadow created by Frankenstein’s actions.

The monster shows Victor what he is, selfish, entitled, and violent. Victor can’t ever confront the monster, because he can never confront those flaws within himself.

Dabi is a reflection of Endeavor’s violent, abusive nature. He is also the direct consequence of all of Endeavor’s actions. So the question is, has Endeavor confronted the monstrous side of his actions? The answer is most likely no, because despite doing things as bad as any villain in the story he still views himself as the hero.

Shoto even tells us directly. Endeavor the hero and Endeavor the father are so different they’re almost like two different people. Endeavor continuing to be a hero on the television and coming home to his family is not taking repsonsibility for his actions, not truly, because he still hasn’t accepted the worst of what he’s done.

In the narrative Endeavor currently feels guilt, and also a desire to atone but we’re also told again and again that atoning means taking responsibility and carrying everything. No building a house where his family doesn’t have to be around him and taking steps to distance himself isn’t taking full resposnibility because Dabi is still running around. Dabi is the embodiment of the absolute worst of Endeavor’s actions, the toxic environment that literally killed Toya, burned Shoto, and hospitalized Rei. I would say Endeavor still hans’t seen the worst of his actions because he still views himself as the hero, just the hero who has made mistakes. We’re shown this in foiling, the same way Fankenstein rejects the monster, Endeavor doesn’t recognize Dabi even though he is literally his own son.

The strongest evidence of this is Endeavor and Ujiko’s foiling. They are two characters who have a lot in common, they both used children as experiments in their attempts to create stronger quirks including their own family members (Ujiko experimented on his own nephew).

They’re both men of incredible wealth and status in society, who have deliberately used their status to cover up their cimes. Endeavor used his status to hospitalize his wife for years, he used his status to marry her in the first place, Ujiko uses all of his money and resources to find people to experiment on, and deliberately takes advantage of people in need by using his orphanage and hospitals to farm for materials to make his Nomus with.

They’re both motivated by their own personal ambitions. They also feel entitled, Ujiko’s specific issue is that the scientific community failed to give him the respect and funding for his research that he thought he was owed.

The source of Endeavor’s pain is that no matter how hard he works he’ll never become the strongest. The source of Ujiko’s pain is that nobody recognizes his work and achievements in his scientific community. They both want their hard work to turn into achievement, for their efforts to pay off, which again is not a bad thing until they get angry when they’re not given what they think they’re owed.

Ujiko and Endeavor both become so desperate to accomplish their ambitions that they manipulate people to become tools to fulfill their ambitions for them. Shoto has to carry on his legacy, and learn to use his flame side like Endeavor always wanted. They both create children that they are technically the parent of, but don’t act as fathers. Endeavor is responsible for Fuyumi, Natsuo, Touya, and Todoroki but fails to live up to that responsibility. Ujiko creates the Nomu, which just like the monster in Frankenstein are new life created from the corpses of other people, and then just uses them and disposes them as tools.

Ujiko even utters a line that is incredibly similiar to Endeavor in the regards to the way they treat Shigaraki and Shoto.

However how does Endeavor react to Ujiko? Does he understand the harm that he’s done in a new light? No, he falls back on his hero narrative. I am the hero, and Ujiko is the utlimate evil.

Endeavor so far, like Frankenstein, fails to truly confront the monster. Even when he finally realizes the destructive nature of his desire to be stronger than anyone else when he fights the Nomu, his response is to burn it alive. What is Endeavor’s response? To play hero, and defeat a villain.

The thing about jungian shadow arcs is that you don’t destroy your shadow, you reintegrated it. Endeavor can’t symbolically murder his past self because that won’t make his past actions go away, he can only accept them. The question now is: will he do the same thing to Dabi?

When confronted with who Dabi is and his role in creating Dabi, what will Endeavor’s choice be? Is he going to play the hero, and destroy the villain he sees in front of him. The same way he did with the Nomu, the same way he did with Ujiko, the same way he’s trying to do with Shigaraki (who is, you know a heavy parallel to his own son Toya, and another abused child).

Will Endeavor act as a hero, or the remorseful father he also is? That choice is utlimately what Endeavor’s entire character is written around, does he want to finally be a father or does he want to keep being endeavor the hero? What is more important to him his own ambitions as a hero, or the people he’s harmed?

Just like Victor, Endeavor’s entire arc revolves around Dabi. He is a hero directly responsible for the creation of a villain. Dabi would not exist if it were not for Endeavor’s direct actions. Not only that but his future will be determined by how he chooses to interact with Dabi once he knows the truth. Endeavor cannot truly take responsibility until he takes responsibility for Dabi.

#mha meta #mha dabi #dabi is touya #dabi #enji todoroki #endeavor #frankenstein #mary shelley's frankenstein #Sometimes you gotta wake up in the morning and decide to spend your entire day writing an incredibly long essay about classic literature

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