#just. everything. the way he gets himself into the palace and finds the Crown Prince. the way he is begging again but this is the one

[theinfinitedivides]

every time Ryang Eum kneels in front of someone in power and begs them to save Jang Hyun's life i lose six years off of mine bc i start crying on command. that's maliciousness and bad mindedness you can't do that to me

[discordiansamba]

something something AU in which Zuko is Ikem's son, but everyone in the royal family (including Zuko) knows about it and the ripple effects that has on the story.

in which Ikem gets married to Ursa, but this does not matter to Azulon at all. He is determined to introduce Roku's bloodline into the royal family, so he simply absolves their marriage and has Ursa marry his second son instead. She has no say in the matter. The only wrinkle is that she is already pregnant. Ursa carries Zuko to term anyways.

he has no royal lineage, but he is still of Avatar Roku's bloodline- and Azulon decides that could still be useful to him. Zuko's fate hinges on whether or not he is a firebender- if he isn't, then Azulon will allow the boy to return to his blood father. if he is... then he will remain at the palace and will be raised as a member of the royal family.

unfortunately for Zuko, he is.

Zuko grows up keenly aware he's the odd one out in the royal family. He's not of Sozin's bloodline- it's just an accident that he ended up as part of the royal family. It's clear his step-father resents his existence, especially once he and his mother have a child of their own. he grows up resenting Azula in turn, because she serves as constant reminder of everything Zuko's not.

(Azula resents him because it could not be more obvious why mother likes her half-brother better.)

everyone knows that Zuko's title of 'prince' is a farce. he has no royal blood. he is simply Fire Lady Ursa's child from her previous marriage. he is expected to learn how to carry himself as one, but he has no duties at the palace. the only thing he is truly expected to do is to be a good firebender, and Zuko's not even really that.

(Azulon is indifferent. As long as the boy can marry well, his children may one day be of service to the royal family.)

he's an outsider in his own home. his step-father barely acknowledges his existence. fire lord azulon does, occasionally, but it's rare. his mother loves him, and so does his cousin Lu Ten- who doesn't seem to care that they don't share any blood. But then Lu Ten goes off to war- and dies. Then Azulon dies, and his mother disappears.

Zuko is suddenly very, very alone.

he manages to avoid the fallout for three years. he had just started lessons with master piandao, who manages to convince the new fire lord to allow zuko to come and live with him for awhile in order to truly study the way of the sword. those are probably some of the best years of Zuko's life- he thrives there.

(he also learns things there that his tutors at the Caldera would never tell him.)

but he can't avoid the inevitable. he has to return home at some point. ozai never quite strips him of his title of prince- but he's not his heir. azula is the crown princess. zuko is just an extra. he might be a useful pawn for marriage, like his step-grandfather always said. at the same time, it's obvious that ozai is looking for an excuse to get rid of him.

zuko keeps his head down. tries to not give him one.

ozai finds it anyways. zuko is burned and banished- sent to look for the avatar. he knows the task is impossible. lu ten's father- his step-uncle- is there to keep an eye on him. he wonders if maybe there's a fraction of a chance that his step-father might actually see him as worth something if he manages to do the impossible.

then he does. and the avatar is a twelve year old child.

he can't do it. he knows what his step-father and half-sister are like. when the avatar escapes, he doesn't even try that hard to stop him. he lets zhao temporarily detain him. then in the middle of the night, he packs his bags and leaves.

the avatar needs someone to teach him firebending. maybe it should be him.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's royal scandal

Written for @astrangersummer, week 15

Words: 1,633 (also on AO3)

Prompt: Royal and/or Modern AU

Relationship: Steve/Eddie

Rated: T

Tags: Modern AU; Royal AU; Rock star Eddie; Royal Steve; Secret relationship; Fluff and angst

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

The fucking photo is everywhere. 

Eddie knows he should stop checking, should probably delete all his social media accounts and drop his phone in the ocean, maybe throw himself right after. Maybe he would, if that would change anything. He groans, slamming the phone down on the table and burying his face in his hands. 

They've been so careful, and for what? 

One second of weakness, one stolen moment by the backstage entrance of Eddie’s last gig, and everything is falling to pieces. He should’ve known better. You're never really alone, no matter how safe you deem yourself. Steve even less than Eddie. 

“I mean, not to be a smartass,” Chrissy’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. She's seated on the opposite side of his kitchen table, laptop in front of her. “But you do realize you could've just waited until you got to your hotel room?” 

Eddie stops pulling at his own hair to give her a tired look. 

“I missed him, okay? Between my Europe tour and his stupid state visit to Asia, it was the first time in months that we saw each other. It was literally just one kiss.” 

Chrissy gives him a look.

“Eddie, I love you,” she says flatly. “But it looks like you're trying to suck out his tonsils with your tongue.” 

Eddie’s forehead joins the phone on the table. 

“I know,” he groans. “Fuck. What do we do now, Chris?” 

She doesn’t answer right away, and that scares him more than anything. Chrissy always knows what to do.

“Maybe it won't be as bad,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “I mean the picture is quite grainy. You're pretty recognizable with your stage outfit and the tattoos, but Steve? He could be just some guy, really.”

“Yeah, no,” Eddie huffs, picking up his phone again. His private messages are blowing up, but he doesn’t find it in himself to open them. “Have you met those royal fangirls? Batshit crazy, man. They have the shape of his moles memorized and all.” 

“You have the shape of his moles memorized,” Chrissy provides. 

Eddie glowers at her, and her face goes soft.

“Hey,” she says, shutting her laptop and taking his hand. “We'll figure it out, I promise. I know it looks bad now, but-” 

She's interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. 

“That'll be the pizza,” she smiles. “I'll get it, you stay seated. Let's talk about this after dinner, I'm sure things will look a lot less dire on a full stomach.”

Eddie has half a mind to ask her how pizza is supposed to fix a single one of their problems. But he knows she's only trying to help, so he doesn’t say anything and shoots her a tight smile as she flounces out. 

The door opens.

“Oh, hi,” Chrissy says, and Eddie knows from the way her voice goes strained that it's not the pizza. “Eddie didn't mention you were- hey, wait, you can't just-” 

Eddie is already out of his chair and halfway around the table when Hopper comes stomping into the kitchen. He looks intimidating as ever in his shades and dark suit with the royal sigil pinned to the lapel. Today, he's also looking particularly pissed. 

“You!” he barks as soon as he spots Eddie. “You're coming with me. Move.” 

Behind him, Chrissy hovers in the doorway, wide-eyed and pale. 

“I can't,” Eddie says lamely. “I have pizza on the way.” 

Hopper looks at him like he's silently regretting all career choices that have led him to this moment.

“What you have,” he says,” is an appointment at the palace. Now c’mon, or you're paying for my parking ticket.” 

*

Eddie hasn't been to the palace more than a few times, and as on all of his previous visits, the paintings and the chandeliers and the gold and brocade of it all make him feel uncomfortable and on edge. So what if he's been secretly dating the crown prince right under the nose of the public for months? He's still allowed to think that the exaggerated splendor surrounding everything royal is a remnant of a long dead feudal system and a waste of tax money with no place in the modern world. It's called nuance, thank you very much.

Hopper nudges him into a lavish salon or drawing room or whatever the fuck they're called - one with a crackling fire and plush armchairs and a small fortune in antiques lining the walls - and wordlessly pulls the door shut behind him. In one of the chairs, gazing at his phone, side profile lit by the golden firelight, is Steve. 

“Remember all those times Munson said fuck the monarchy?” he says without looking up. It takes Eddie a very confused second to realize he's reading from the comments under the damned photo. “Never realized he meant that literally. Charming. They even got creative with the emoji, look.” 

He flips the phone around. Eddie sinks into the armchair across from him and winces. “I know, I know. So, on a scale from one to ten, how bad is it?” 

“Hm?” Steve says. He's in jeans and a cable-knit sweater, thin wire frame glasses perched on his nose. He looks utterly biteable. Except that's what got them into this mess in the first place. “Oh, very bad. Apparently, you've brainwashed me with some sort of satanic magic to overthrow the monarchy. Either that, or this is a slandering campaign against you, involving a carefully picked doppelganger and-” 

“Steve,” Eddie groans. 

Steve finally lowers the phone, putting it down on the small side table sitting between them and folding his hands in his lap. 

“Eddie,” he says. 

Eddie winces. He knows this tone, this aloof, barely interested drawl. Knows the way Steve holds himself - spine straight, shoulders slightly pulled back, chin up. Eyes so much dimmer than what he's used to. Distant and detached.

This isn't Steve. It's Prince Steven. 

Eddie hoped he'd never have to see the fucker again. 

There's a pile of documents lying on the stupid, fancy side table, right next to the phone. Eddie squints at them, catching the royal sigil at the top, the words non-disclosure agreement below, and his stomach fills with lead. When he manages to speak, his voice sounds hollow in his ears.

“So this is it, huh?” 

Steve sighs. “Father would've loved to speak to you personally.”

The heavy, molten thing in Eddie’s guts twists. 

“Would he now?” he grits out, trying to match Steve’s bored tone and knowing he's failing. Unlike some people, he hasn't been drilled into burying his feelings under a layer of ice all his life. 

Steve nods.

“He had more important things to attend to, though” he says. “Instead, he told me to have you sign this.” 

“Did he now?” Eddie says. It comes out hollow, words snagging in a too-dry throat. 

Steve picks up the documents, leafing through the smooth, white pages. Even the fucking paper is fancy in this place.

“He's instructed our PR team to get me a watertight alibi for the night of the concert. Said we'd deny any acquaintance with you. Forbid you from ever so much as speaking my name in public. I told him to go fuck himself.” 

“Did you no- … Wait, what?” 

Eddie snaps his head up just in time to see how Steve tosses the papers into the fire. The rage on that pretty face is pure, unbridled and undisguised, and Eddie’s heart tugs painfully in his chest. 

“I'm not gonna put a muzzle on you. You can damn well say whatever you want about me. I trust you, and that won't change. Not even if you don't want to continue this-” 

“Woah, woah, wait,” Eddie blurts. “Hold on a sec. You think I'm breaking up with you?” 

Steve blinks at him. “Um, yes? Are you not?”

Eddie can't stop the laugh that bubbles out of him. The weight that has been tearing at his insides ever since the damn photo dropped is gone. He feels like he needs to tether himself to something or he'll float off towards the ugly painted ceiling with the chubby, winged babies. 

“No, you stupid dickhead,” he says, and finally, finally takes Steve's hand in his. “I thought you were breaking up with me.” 

Steve gapes at him. “Why would I- … I'd never do that!” 

“Well, good,” Eddie says. “Cause neither would I.” 

Steve chews on his bottom lip, hope and doubt warring in those lovely eyes of his. 

“I don't think you understand what's at stake here,” he mutters. “If we make this public, it'll be the greatest scandal this country has seen in decades. The press will be all over us, your fans will hate you, my family will tell you to give up your career, they'll-” 

“Honey,” Eddie interrupts him, not bothering to hide the grin that's threatening to split his face in half. “If there's two things you should know about me by now, it's these. One, I'm terrible at taking instructions. And two, I don't give a rat's ass about what anyone thinks about me.” 

Steve's eyes are large and round behind his glasses, but Eddie imagines the hope is winning over the doubt. 

“I wanna be with you,” he says, squeezing Steve’s fingers a little tighter. “And to be frank, I think the system could do with a good shaking-up. Don't you agree?” 

Steve snorts a reluctant laugh, and his entire face lights up with it. “You can say that again.” 

Eddie thinks he's never seen anything as beautiful as Steve’s smile as he slowly lifts their entwined hands to his lips. 

“If it's a scandal they want,” he murmurs, holding Steve's gaze and pressing a long, lingering kiss to his knuckles, “I say let's give them a scandal to remember.” 

[derww]

DEVOTIONS WEEK DAY 3: ROYALTY/AHARCHY

CW: Corpses

When Zam finally finds him, everything is already over – the Prince stands, clenching and unclenching his fists over and over again, illuminated only by a narrow moonbeam coming through the stained glass window. Around him lie people – torn, maimed, crumbled. Every one of them is dead. The Prince is covered in blood. A sword rests in his hand.

– I'm sorry, – Zam says, because he must always be there for him, and he had no right to lose him, – I-

– Imagine, – the Prince says nonchalantly, wiping his sword, – they found me before I found them. They wanted to end me as they ended my father and mother. Fucking idiots, aren't they?

– Absolutely, Your Highness, – he agrees. There had never been any doubt in him about the Prince's ability to stand up for himself, but it was his responsibility to ensure safety, – they were very naive to think they could just kill you.

There is something nauseating about the number of corpses. He knew there might be double agents in the palace, but something about it left him with the impression that everyone who came to hand had been killed, guilty and innocent. Only now does he notice the horns that are peeking out from under the Prince's crown.

The demonic principle. Zam is embarrassed by the fact that he is not even a bit surprised. After all, he had been at the Prince's right hand since he was quite young.

– They know what you look like now, – he says...

– It's not that important, Zam, – the Prince waves almost lazily. He steps over the corpses, stepping on someone's limbs a couple of times, and turns out to be In front of Zam, – what a hassle, – he grumbles, finding that the blood is tightly embedded in his clothes now, – your cloak? – Zam carefully drapes it over the Prince's shoulders, at least partially covering the ugliness.

– But what now? – Zam bows his head, – the coronation awaits you, – he recollects, – since both the emperor and the empress are dead...

The Prince shakes his head. Those who had lost their rulers needed a friendly, confident and listening king. Not a half-demon who just caused a massacre. He easily came to terms with it, but he was raised as a prince, and he was always thinking about people.

– Zam, – the Prince says at last.

– Yes, Your Highness? – Zam responds. He checks all the passages over and over again to be ready if someone turns up on the approaches, but when the Prince calls out to him, he instantly switches over, staring at him.

– Zam, the people don't know what the heir looks like.

– It's true, – Zam shrugs, – but it won't last long now since the privacy perimeter has been violated. It'll make sense to get ahead of them and make a public statement-

– Zam. – The Prince interrupts him, and he breaks off, for some reason looking at him in confusion. There is always something special in his view of him - attention, dedication, devotion.

He waits for him to continue, but instead, the Prince takes off his crown. Without it, his protruding red-maroon horns are even more noticeable, making it unable to confuse them with anything.

– Zam, – he repeats, holding the crown in his hands, – the empire needs a symbol of hope, and it's not me. Demon-maniac is an image for a pocket killer, not for the ruler of them all. Will you become the new emperor?

Zam looks very similar to the deceased emperor and empress – blond and tan, with elegant features that do not correspond to his training in any way. He was not a simple man and was barely a year older than the Prince, but he had a kind face. They looked like two opposites – light and shadow, sun and moon.

And... He starts talking, but stutters and stops. Thousands of thoughts and questions swarm in his head, but as soon as he stops himself, he understands everything. This is a sophisticated puzzle that comes together in a single movement. He falls to one knee.

– Yes, Your Highness. – he answers, bowing his head, and still warm metal touches the top of his head. He looks up and notices that Mapicc is smiling.

– Welcome, my prince.

[irisintheafterglow]

HAND SEVEN - FULL HOUSE

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, the royal family is met and tensions rise.

wc: 4.1k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader (she/her used), explicit language, todoroki enji (derogatory), mentions of food, dinner, and eating, todoroki siblings cameo

note: i can't thank you all enough for your patience with the new parts of this series coming out. this one's a long one but it's the last chapter before shit hits the fan, so enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“Dining with the royal family, hmm? Isn’t that exciting!” Your maid catches your eye in the reflection of your bedroom mirror and you give her a wary smile. “If I may, I do think you and His Highness make a wonderful match. You compliment each other nicely.” 

“Well, this is everything I’ve wanted, right?” You can’t tell if the way your voice shakes is from nerves or the tightening strings of your corset, but you suddenly find it a struggle to have a complete intake of breath. “Goodness, I haven’t been this unsettled since he won the duel in the garden,” you laugh to disguise your panic, your poor oblivious maid humming to herself while she helps you into the next layer of your evening clothes. “Do you think the rest of the family is nice? I know he has a few brothers and a sister.” 

“Oh, I think you’ll do just fine, dear, no matter who you meet,” she reassures you, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress with her hands. “You truly look radiant; if the prince doesn’t think so, I believe he must get his eyes examined.” Your face warms, memories of you examining his eyes in an incredibly unprofessional setting a few nights prior. Whatever you said had him turning to putty in your hands outside your window, hidden by the shadow of the large tree he’d climbed to retrieve you. Nothing physically intimate occurred beyond kissing, yet the thrill of it felt like you’d committed high treason. “Come along,” she says, pulling you from your daydream. “You mustn't miss your carriage. It should be prepared soon, I’m sure–” Her unapologetic gushing is interrupted by your footman positioning himself at the door, looking slightly uneasy. 

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No, miss,” he says, shaking his head. He stutters as if fishing around in his brain to find the correct words. “There is, well…there is a–”

“It’s alright,” you gently commanded him. “Come now, spit it out.” 

“Oh my days! Miss, there’s a royal carriage outside!” Your maid exclaims, her palms pressed to the glass. “With all due respect, I was under the impression that you were taking an estate carriage to the castle.” 

“As was I,” you mutter, arriving at the windowsill to see a very smug looking Touya already peering up at you. He sends you a wink that has your maid clutching the window frame for support before disappearing into your house. You huff, catching a peek of yourself in a nearby mirror and yelping at your appearance, frantically remembering what you were doing before your suitor appeared. “Quickly, now! Let’s finish seasoning and basting so I look presentable when I face my doom at the palace.” 

Your heart rate is extremely elevated by the time you’re finished with your dress, but you can’t tell if it’s from the excitement or the mere idea of seeing him again. A loud thump thump thump runs from one ear to the other through the back of your skull, your vision becoming slightly hazy with each step closer to the parlor. Your servants bow politely as you pass and dismiss themselves when you finally approach Touya, whom you find standing at the window overlooking the garden. 

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you say softly, surveying the last beams of sunlight illuminating your flowers. “Enjoying the scenery?”

“Passing the time,” he supposes, turning to face you with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You look lovely in that shade.” 

“His Highness, Prince Keigo, did say you had an affinity for blue.” Though your attention remains on the backyard, you can hear his eye roll from miles away.

“Please refrain from discussing Prince Bird-Brain; if it is alright with you, I’d like to have an enjoyable night,” he declares with diplomatic sincerity that makes you stifle a snort into your gloves. 

“My apologies. How may I ever regain your favor?”  

“I can think of several ways.” His eyes flick around the room like a prisoner counting guards, patiently waiting until you two are truly alone. That time would come five minutes later, when the carriage doors shut you inside and he’s on you before you can even blink.

“Missed me, I see,” you breathe against his lips as his fingers roam over the expensive fabric of your dress. Touya’s mouth is hot and urgent, consuming you entirely even though you’d been apart for less than three days. Your hands brush down the front panel of his coat and eventually wrap around his neck to pull him closer. “Is something ailing you? You’re feeling a little feverish.” He scoffs at your teasing, nipping your earlobe with a sharp canine. 

“You are impossible,” he mutters with hungry eyes that rake over your exposed collarbone. His mouth starts to wander down the column of your neck with the obvious intention of leaving a mark (or seven). You’re one flirty comment away from tearing off your dress entirely when the carriage hits a bump, knocking you both upward and effectively ruining the atmosphere. You burst out laughing unexpectedly, even more when you see Touya’s displeased frown. “I’m going to execute whoever drove us over that.”

“Perhaps it’s a sign that we should recompose ourselves,” you say, tucking an unruly piece of white hair away from his face and pecking his cheek. The carriage slows its pace, and you peek out of the curtain to see the familiar happenings of the front gate. “I believe the turbulence was due to us crossing onto palace grounds, after all.” 

“We weren’t done,” he grumbles like a child being denied candy at the market. Touya’s body is still pressed flush to yours, one arm braced against the carriage door while his forearm secures you against his chest. “I should tell them to take us around the back way.”

“As enticing of an offer that would be, we would also be late for our meal.” 

“I’m offended you think I remotely care about the whole event.” The carriage comes to a complete halt and he pulls away, allowing you to smooth the wrinkles in your dress and re-tidy your jewelry. 

“I’m going to need you to care, at least a teaspoon’s amount, or I’m sure I’ll burst into flames before dinner is served.” Reluctantly, the prince schools his face into practiced nonchalance, but the way his eyes burn like embers in a fireplace give away his continued desperation. You fight the urge to smirk when he can’t seem to stop sneaking glances at you, like it pained him to look away.  “Don’t fret,” you murmur, pressing one more chaste kiss to his cheek while he glares at the approaching commotion outside. “We’ll pick up where we left off…when we are not needed elsewhere.” 

“I intend to hold you to that promise.”

—

After hurriedly fixing the bunching of your clothes and stepping out of the carriage with the help of Touya’s hand, you’re guided up the sweeping front steps of the palace and toward what you assume is the dining room. Your hand remains fixed in the prince’s arm, the crushed velvet of his blue coat soft beneath your fingers. When he ducks close to whisper in your ear, you’re sure you can hear him smirk at the goosebumps the proximity gives you.

“Nervous?” 

“I’d be untruthful if I denied it,” you answer carefully, eyeing nearby servants undoubtedly spreading news of your arrival. His breath is warm next to your ear and you’re unsure if the heat in your cheeks is from your suitor or the dozens of prying eyes. “Are we nearing the dining hall?”

“Actually, we’re just passing it. My siblings would like to meet you first,” he explains with only the slightest bit of reluctance, nearly imperceptible if you didn’t know how to read the subtle changes in his expressions. “Would you like to see it?” He knows your reply and pulls you to a towering pair of double doors just to your right, adjacent to glass windows overlooking the garden where he’d dueled for your hand all those weeks ago. As he swings open one door just enough for you to peek inside, you can’t help but gasp.

Prior to that night, you’d never seen a room sparkle before. Sure, the bathroom tiles would have a certain shine to them right after they’ve been cleaned or your stepmother’s jewelry would catch the light in a starlike way, but you’d never seen a room where absolutely everything was glittering. Gold trimmed the walls, the extensive table, the backs of chairs, and the circumference of the dinner plates. As you took barely a step into the room, your shoe sinks into plush red carpet, perfectly stainless and the only texture in the room without glimmer. Everything seemed to be encrusted in diamonds, yet smooth and almost glowing from the soft candlelight and the fading evening sun. 

“This is beyond beautiful,” you breathe and you turn, once again, to find Touya watching you rather than the room he’d dined in thousands of times. “I can’t help but feel the room is better dressed than me,” you joke and he shakes his head in firm disagreement. 

“It’s a very good thing I’m courting you and not the room, then,” he quips before taking your hand back into the crook of his arm. “You must wait until I take you into the ballroom. I believe we’ll need a doctor standing by in case you faint from its beauty.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the tug at the corner of your mouth. “Now that I think of it, are you marrying me for my looks or my furniture?”

“I’m not marrying you at all, remember?” The answer leaves your mouth before you can stop it and an odd look blinks onto Touya’s face, something you only saw when he folds in poker hands he surely would have won if he only waited for the last community cards. You’re on the verge of thinking you imagined the look when his arm tightens under your hand, like he was making sure you weren’t pulling away. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he says quickly with a rare smile that’s almost good enough to fool you. “Nothing at all.” Before you can answer, your guide swings open another set of smaller double doors at the end of a hallway which leads into what you assume is a parlor. The windows of the parlor faced the back of the castle, lush with grass and shimmering blue fountains between the bushes. Your admiration of the back lawn, however, is cut short by hushed bickering to your left. When you finally look over from where you stand in the entryway with Touya, three people snap into a perfectly-postured line. Your suitor sighs audibly through his nose, running a hand down his face with his free hand. “I would like you to meet my three younger siblings: Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shoto.” 

“Your Highnesses,” you greet politely. 

“You arrived late. Was there a delay with the carriage?” Another figure stands from a side table, shorter than the siblings but carrying more maturity than the whole room combined. 

“Our older brother is sick easily in carriages, don’t you remember, mother?” The middle brother, Natsuo, says earnestly but the jab at his older brother is not lost on you. He grunts in protest when his eldest sister, Fuyumi, strikes his side with her elbow. Touya clicks his tongue decisively and the siblings fall back in line, and you catch Shoto’s eyes scanning you like a curious cat. He’s quiet, you think to yourself, like if Touya’s calculating nature was encompassed in a teenage boy. 

“And my mother, Queen Rei,” Touya eventually continued, his voice softer than when he addressed his siblings. You muster your best curtsy as she approaches, surprised when her cold hand tilts your chin upward, seemingly to inspect you. “Mother…” he begins with a tone of warning, but she shushes him insistently. You can practically hear the muscle in Touya’s jaw clench and resist the urge to burst out laughing; no one, not even you, had the authority to shush him. No one, that is, except the one who birthed him.

“Your Majesty,” you murmur to break the tense silence as her unwavering gaze examines your face. “It is an honor. There is a gift for you, and–”

“The honor is all mine,” she breaks in before you can continue. Her voice is softer than powdered snow, in stark contrast to Touya’s dark rasp. “My son refuses to tell us anything about you, so finally making your acquaintance is a gift in itself.” 

“His Highness informed me of your shared affinity for blue, so I hope you will enjoy the few delphinium stems I’ve brought from my family’s garden.”

“I was just about to thank you for the flowers,” she smiles, lightly cupping the side of your face. Her palm is freezing, nothing like Touya’s naturally warm-running body, yet you can see where he receives his gentler side. “You are a fine counterpart for my hotheaded firstborn.” You finally break a small laugh when you hear Touya’s indignant squawk behind you, and the queen uses this chance to pull you away from him. “My second-eldest and only daughter, Fuyumi,” she introduces as she brings you to the princess. 

“Your Highness,” you curtsy and risk a glance over your shoulder to find Touya standing with his hands on his hips and impatiently tapping his foot. 

“You’ve brought a softer side out of our big brother,” Fuyumi informs you with a knowing smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Rei gestures to her next child. 

“My second son, Natsuo. He takes care of me when we are away in the countryside.” His mother pats the side of her son’s cheek and moves on before he can comment, much to his surprise and Touya’s unseen amusement. “And my youngest, Shoto. He is next in line to be king after Touya.” 

“Not His Highness?”

“Natsuo abdicated the throne when I became…” She pauses and her children stiffen. Touya clears his throat from behind you. When you turn to meet his eyes, he’s watching the polished wooden floorboards. “When I became ill. I had to stay in the countryside for a time. Only recently have I been well enough to return to the palace.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Your Majesty.” You’d have to wait until later to interrogate Touya about his family drama, but you couldn’t imagine such a fragile and gentle looking woman like the queen becoming so sick she had to leave the city. “How does your health fare now?”

“Better than the past. I’m thankful every day I get to see Touya join society as an eligible suitor.”

“As piss-poor as he is at it,” Natsuo mumbles and both Shoto and Fuyumi strike his ribs with their elbows. It’s no use, as Touya decides from behind you that he’s finally had enough and crosses the parlor in four long strides, his boots thudding heavily against the floor. Natsuo yelps and hurries away, Shoto quietly trailing behind to witness the carnage while his two older brothers disappear yelling down a back hallway. 

“Forgive them, please,” the queen implores you with a tired smile. “It’s been a long time since we hosted such a large dinner, especially as a family, and they don’t know how to act.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I am accustomed to Touya–I mean His Highness’ antics.” You hope your correction isn’t as bumbling as it sounds in your head, but your worries are eased by the appreciative expressions from the queen and princess. 

“As my oldest brother is predisposed, shall mother and I show you the rest of the palace?” In a distant room, there is a crash and the telltale sign of a teenage prince screaming in fear. The women with you are unfazed and merely shake their heads.

“I would love nothing more.”

—

“How nice of you to finally join us,” you murmur when Touya finally slides into the seat beside you at the dining table. “Finished tormenting your little brother?”

“I would not label it torment,” he argues, picking up a nearby carafe of water and pouring your glass, then his. “I am merely reciprocating the affection that he gives me.”

“And by definition, that is torment,” you counter and he chuckles. As the king was still absent from the head of the table, food was not to be served, yet the hunger in your gut could not fight the fluttering that occurred whenever Touya was with you. 

“How was viewing the remainder of the palace?”

“Unexpectedly overwhelming,” you admit. Truthfully, you could not name half of the rooms you visited if there was a saber to your jugular. There were countless bedrooms for the royal family and servants alike, sitting areas, libraries, practice rooms for the pianoforte, and an infinite number of toilet rooms; all the rooms were dressed to the level of the dining room that you were in now, shimmering in gold and expensively dyed drapes. “Up until this point, I’ve only known the outside gardens. Even then, Her Majesty informed me that she has a private greenhouse at the back of the property for her most special flowers.”

“I can take you there after dinner, if you’d like. Mother will insist upon chaperoning us, however, if that’s alright with you.” 

“We’ve had good fortune with not needing a chaperone when we are together,” you comment and he nods in agreement. 

“I’m the eldest as well as the problem child; it’s no wonder no one wants to babysit me.” You open your mouth to make a retort but are interrupted by the staccato notes of a horn announcing the king’s impending arrival. 

Rise for His Majesty, King Todoroki Enji, and Her Majesty, Queen Todoroki Rei.

Whether you grab Touya’s hand or he grabs yours first, you can’t remember, but your fingers are tightly laced in his by the time all the guests in the room stand to receive the king. Though you can’t tell how hard you’re squeezing him, you feel him gripping you like a ship’s rope in a storm. And how could he not? Everyone in the room felt a suffocating sense of unease from the moment the king stepped through the doors and until the Queen was at his side. King Enji seemed even more intimidating than the last time you’d seen him, when you looked him in the face and told him that Her Majesty was a queen, not simply a wife of a king. He was built like the barrels Rei and Fuyumi had shown you in the cellar that held gallons upon gallons of alcohol, and his whole atmosphere burned constantly in a way comparable to Touya’s most intense moods. You felt as if you could spontaneously combust if you made contact with the king too long.

You glance at Touya from the corner of your eye, suddenly self-conscious that he’s sitting with you and not at his father’s side, where he should be. Despite his death grip on your hand, the rest of his demeanor is otherwise cooler than you’d ever seen him, especially for a royal event. It was like having you by his side was making him more…confident? 

“You’re doing wonderfully,” the prince murmurs in your ear once the king is seated and the meal commenced. “Just stay by my side and we’ll be escaping before you know it.” 

“He scares me,” you blurt before shoving a forkful of food into your mouth to keep yourself from saying anything else stupid. Touya huffs a quiet laugh, leaning close in a way that has Rei winking at Fuyumi from across the table.

“That makes two of us. Although, I’m considerably less fearful when you’re with me.” 

“I’m glad to hear it. Shall we eat and ‘escape,’ as you say, faster?” 

“I’ll tell the servants we’ll take dessert in the garden.”

—

You should have learned by now that outings with Touya, whether it was of royal nature or merely two people courting, are never as smooth as you hope for them to be. The realization hits you when your suitor momentarily disappears to find his mother and invite her for tea, and the king approaches you within seconds to fill the space. Even if you were a different height, the king would still tower over you like a mountain blocking out the sun, casting you in darkness that made you want to hide in a cave. Maybe this is how rabbits feel when they’re being stalked by a mountain lion. 

“Walk with me.” It’s not a request. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you reply with as little emotion as possible. You hope Touya could see you leaving with his father, or perhaps one of his siblings is around to update him so you can get out of this trap. The king doesn’t force you to go far, only out to a secluded balcony that overlooks the back gardens. The night air is crisp and smells of many flowers, the soft sound of water rushing from the fountains blending with the melodic calls of songbirds. He stands with his hands clasped behind his back, as still as a model for a portrait painting.

“Touya is in line to be king.” He says this as a fact, an obvious statement that you are both well aware of. Your mind is racing and simultaneously not functioning at all, looking for an escape route and rooted in place. While Touya’s voice is raspy like charred firewood and his mother’s like light snowfall, the king’s voice is grating and hard, like grinding two stones together. It makes your stomach turn over in a messy somersault. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You don’t know what else to say.

“He does not want to be king.”

“Yes, Your Majes–How do you know?” His eye darts to look at you and you force your attention anywhere but him, on the grass or the flowers or the birds that were starting to sound like a hundred boiling kettles. 

“You do not know the truth of why he disappeared.” 

“I have not earned the right to ask,” you counter, a sudden indignance rising to your head as you feel the need to defend the nature of your relationship to Touya. 

“He defies me. Since he was a child, he has defied me and my efforts to train him to become a just king.” Not sure waging a not-so-secret war on the Kingdom of Might counts as being a just king, asshole. “His actions defy my wishes. His choice in acquaintances,” he pauses again and looks at you briefly as an example, “Defy my wishes. His travels defy my wishes.” Maybe his actions aren’t yours to control, then. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“He has traveled every path to rebel against me and this family. Soon, I could imagine him coming for my life to guarantee his freedom.” A hot lick of anger flares inside your chest and you silently seethe next to the king, your limbs aching from how tense your body has become. You have no right to decide what your son thinks. 

“Is that a possible situation, Your Majesty?”

“You question my judgment?” You wouldn’t be surprised if your mouth tastes like blood from how hard you’re biting your tongue.

“I meant no disrespect, Your Majesty.”

“I will make one thing clear, as he is bound to come for you soon: You are another avenue for him to defy me, and nothing more. Whatever he has told you, shown you, revealed to you is all a means to an end in order to cause me suffering.” Despite all your attempts to quiet the doubt in your mind, the king’s words make your stiffness turn brittle; you may fall over and shatter like a concrete statue if pushed over at the right angle. “Ask yourself how much Touya has really told you about himself, and if you are satisfied to be complicit in his actions to undermine me.” Complicit. To be involved in a crime or wrongdoing. To love Touya Todoroki is to be a criminal. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Touya doesn’t ask why your mouth has clamped shut in the time it took for him to find his mother and return, nor does he pry when your smiles seem more strained than before. It was inevitable, he told himself. He was sure you could feel the same dread that he did, the looming danger that you were desperately pretending wasn’t there. As you approached the final ball of the season, both your stacks were becoming higher and higher until one of you would be forced to present an ultimatum: all or nothing. 

Who will give their all, and who will lose everything?

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[mins-fins]

AUDERE EST FACERE. — [Z.CL]

❝to dare is to do..❞

SYNOPSIS: where crown prince zhong chenle, forced into a marriage with a woman he doesn't like and riddled with complicated feelings, finds solace in the palace's very own medic, you.

PAIRING: zhong chenle x male!reader

GENRE: royalty au, not really modern but not really medieval time period either, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, kinda humorous, prince!chenle x medic!reader, kinda forbidden relationship, ambiguous/open ending

WARNINGS: might not be accurate to medieval times, death, blood & gore, forced marriage, mentions of disease, unhealthy ways of grieving, a lot of mentions of violence

WORD COUNT: 22.7k

NOTES: woah woah woah!!! this whole fic broke a whole bunch of isa records…….. hiiii jj 😊 hi chenle stans 😊 hello nct male reader community 😊😊😊 i hope im serving the isanator nation well (consists of 2 ppl) ANYWAY this is one of the works i am genuinely most proud of because for one, it's my longest ever work, and for two, i'm just so happy with how it turned out!! this was originally meant to be like 16k words but then i got carried away and now this is here 🙁 i truly apologize for how long this is but PLEASEEE dont get bored i swear it gets good 😞😞 and i did write ambiguous ending but it does seem pretty straightforward so um… im sorry for that, this fic would've been MUCH MUCH LONGER than 22k words but i already beat my former wc record so i just cut a bunch of other unnecessary scenes 😶 alright thats enough of my yapping!! ily jj my bsf ever ty for listening to me ramble abt this endlessly in ur inbox 😊😊💗

CHENLE REMEMBERS IT LIKE IT WAS YESTERDAY. his little feet sneakily took him away from the huge meeting room full of intimidating adults talking about gibberish, and slowly, they lead him to a much more enjoyable place. at the time, seven year old chenle couldn't figure out why his parents needed such a big meeting room, or why all of these important people came to the castle every few months, to him, those strangers were nothing but tryhards, greedy men and women who were never pleased no matter how much they were offered.

seven year old chenle could never truly figure out why his parents insisted on having him sit around with these other important adults, listening to them talk about the economy, kingdom relations, marriage, all this stuff that isn't interesting to seven year old boys.

the young prince found his feet leading him to a place of familiar comfort, the palace's own rose garden. he could never truly explain why the air surrounding the abundance of roses ever became of comfort to him, because roses are anything but comfortable to hold, but whenever he felt like father and mothers fights were getting too aggressive, he could just come here and everything would be okay.

the gardener, a woman by the name of mrs. qian, was always sweet to chenle, much sweeter than his father usually was. her son, qian kun, is basically chenle's older brother, the older boy often comes around whenever his mothers in work, and he tells chenle stories of what goes on at the village schools, the newest gossip and adventures he's gone on with his friends.

chenle often finds himself interested in the life of a commoner, they're all just so intriguing.. he can't believe the stories most of the time, but he is homeschooled, and has been holed up in this castle for as long as he can remember, so how he can prove or debunk any of these things? he just thinks that non-royals are some of the most entertaining people he knows, they're all so hilarious.

as soon as the seven year old chenle stepped into the rose garden, a feeling of relief seeps into his body. he takes in a deep breath, and finally allowed for his shoulders to slump, much too tired of having to keep his back straight all this time.

he lets himself relax into the atmosphere, finally away from the suffocated room full of adults seemingly speaking a language he could not understand. if that's what kings and queens have to do, chenle thinks he'd rather not take the throne.

the seven year old prince allowed for his eyes to scan the garden, it's empty. well that makes sense, mrs. qian isn't in today and neither is her son, they went on a holiday. he sighs to himself, he misses kun's company, but alas, no one is around.

chenle makes his way around to a specific rose bush, it has the most roses out of the bunch. seven year old chenle used to think the rose bushes were magic, the roses always grew so quickly, one day there'd be none and the next there'd be hundreds, it was purely shocking to the young prince.

chenle, as always, began tracing the shape of the roses with his finger. he finds them pretty, as he does all flowers. it might sound like he's being basic, but roses are probably his favorite of the bunch. they're just so beautiful, and most importantly— they're sharp.

but the seven year old chenle is startled out of his rose admiring due to a shout.

"hey! don't touch those!"

the young prince furrowed his eyebrows at the words, what's wrong with touching the roses? it's not like there are garden rules or anything. when chenle turned to the source of the shout, that's when he sees the person.

you, it was you. adorable seven year old you who ran up to him as quickly as you could, you stopped as soon as you made it his way, panting like you had just run a marathon. "don't touch the roses".

the young chenle blinked, puzzled. "why can't i touch them? i'm the prince you can't tell me what to do—"

"they're sharp! you're gonna hurt yourself see?" you pointed at chenle's hand, and he looked down, eyes widening as he came across the sight. his finger was bleeding, oh that's bad. "roses have thorns, you have to be careful".

chenle had no idea who you were then, but all he knew was that you were worried. your eyes were watering, as if you were going to burst into tears at any moment, and you took a deep breath as you slowly began freaking out over the small cut on the prince's index finger. "oh uh— i didn't even notice".

"it's okay really, god i have a bandaid don't i? hold on.." you mumbled, worried as ever as you began rummaging through your pockets, trying to find a bandaid to patch up the prince with.

"it's fine it's just a small cut i.." chenle paused in between his words, clearing his throat. "who are you?"

right, you were still a stranger, chenle had no idea who you were then, for all he could know, you had broken into the palace or something. you finally stopped looking through your pocket, your face went a bright red as you faced the prince again. "um my name is y/n, i'm the—"

"y/n honey? where did you run off to?"

now chenle recognized that voice, that was the voice of the palace's sweet medic. mrs. l/n had a voice that was like honey, she was easily one of chenle's favorite staff members, not only because she would always be there to wipe his tears when he scraped his knee, but she always offered him delicious candy. "oh! there you are!"

"good afternoon mrs. l/n" chenle politely greeted, and you let out a small sigh of relief at the sight of your mother, though that look of worry was still prominent in your eyes.

"chenle, how are you doing?" she reached over to ruffle the young prince's hair, which he accepted happily, giggling at the gesture. "i'm doing good, ma'am".

"he has a cut on his finger" you muttered to her, and a small 'ah' leaves her lips as she finally realized what was going on. "i wanted to help him but i didn't have any bandaids" you seemed disappointed in yourself, as your gaze immediately lowered to the floor.

"oh sweetie, it's okay" your mother shook your shoulder, reassuring you. "just remember to call me before running off".

"i'll remember, sorry".

the young prince blinked at the sight before him, though he continued to smile at the sight of your mother. "sorry for yelling at you, your highness" you muttered in your low voice, and all chenle did was shake his head, waving you off.

"it's alright you were just trying to help" chenle replied, he finds seven year old you to be the epitome of adorable, just the cutest person in the world.

"let's get you that bandaid yeah?"

chenle nodded, you nodded, and the two of you proceeded to follow your mother out of the garden and to her office.

when chenle thinks back to this moment, the moment he first met you, he likes to compare it to an explosive, just waiting to be lit, just waiting to be set off and destroy everything. when he thinks back to the first moment he met you, chenle can't help but reminisce about it.

after your mother helped him with his cut, the two of you.. talked. you talked about things all seven year old boys talk about, and it was one of the highlights of chenle's day, though he kept trying to make you drop the formalities and call him by his first name, you vehemently disagreed.

the two of you became friends (and just chenle calling the two of you "friends" was enough to almost send seven year old you into cardiac arrest), a royal and a commoner, but chenle never saw it that way, chenle has never seen it that way. a friend is a friend, regardless of status or their economic situation. yes chenle is at a great advantage, being the prince of the kingdom you lived in, but he never held it over you, he isn't like that.

you were— are a special friend to chenle. sometimes, it feels like the two of you have known each other your whole lives. you mean much more to him than he actually lets slip, but he'll never let that be known, even under kun's watchful eye and jisung's insistence on knowing if you two really are just "friends".

chenle spends a lot of time thinking about the day you two first met, it's like a looping episode of a show in his head.

"chenle? did you even hear me?"

no response.

a grunt of frustration is sounded in the room, but the prince doesn't react, much too busy zoned out as a specific memory replays in his head for the seventh time that hour.

"chenle! pay attention!"

the slam of a hand against the table, paired with the loud shout is enough to snap the now twenty one year old crown prince out of his little dazed memory recalling session. chenle startles, but he quickly lets his face relax, sighing as he rejoins the conversation he'd previously zoned out on. "what?"

chenle's mother pinches the bridge of her nose, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "marriage, chenle, that's what were talking about".

oh god, chenle resists the urge to groan. he isn't exactly on board with this whole marriage thing, but then again, he has no other choice, his father is gone and he's next in line for the throne, this is how it goes for each royal family, he should just suck it up and deal with it head on. "yeah yeah, sorry, i didn't sleep much last night".

it's not exactly a lie, these days usually have chenle plagued with some sort of sleeplessness, but that isn't the main reason he was zoned out, obviously. "alright.. anyway, i talked with the zhu's, we agreed that you and their daughter, yinuo, are to marry".

chenle recognizes the family name, unfortunately, he doesn't exactly recognize their daughter. "you're marrying me off to a stranger? what about the girls i actually know, suyin? jia? mingxia? they're actually my friends, i'd be much more comfortable with them than a princess i've never met".

"marriage doesn't work like that, chenle" the words are enough to make chenle grit his teeth, he bites his tongue, though. "all you have to do is merely get along with her enough that it looks like you're in love at the wedding, rule the kingdom, and have children".

chenle raises an eyebrow, rocking back and forth in his chair. "that sounds a tad bit dystopian, mother".

the older woman does nothing but narrow her eyes at chenle, a look he's become used to receiving from her at this point. "it's just how everything goes, le, i don't know what to tell you".

chenle bites his inner cheek, looking everywhere else in the room. he always knew marriage was a custom, if not out of true love, it would be out of convenience. chenle had been given so much time to go find a woman to fall in love with, but he didn't find it that easy, maybe he just has too many requirements when it comes to love. he doesn't exactly support the whole thing about creating new heirs, but he was born into this family for this reason, what is the point of being a king if not sacrificing his freedom for the happiness of others?

chenle has always known that he wouldn't exactly enjoy this part of his life, and his father just had to go early, he is very much upset, but he doesn't disclose those feelings to anyone. after his long minutes of silence, chenle stands up from the table, again facing his mother. "yes yes i get it, mother" he mutters, making his way over to his mother and pressing a kiss to her cheek, realizing that she was trembling in anxiousness. "don't worry about me, i'll be fine".

but would he really? chenle can't exactly determine that.

"HOW DID YOUR LITTLE MARRIAGE CONVERSATION GO?" QIAN KUN cannot contain his interest, immediately finding chenle and inquiring about his upcoming marriage. chenle can always go to kun to talk about things troubling his mind, the older is a person of solace for him, a comfort in this big castle that seems to be swallowing him whole. chenle is glad he has kun, even with how much he does tease him, he's truly grateful for the older. "whose the lucky lady?" the words are enough to get a groan out of chenle, who shoved his nose into his book.

"zhu yinuo".

kun's eyes widen, clearly he recognizes that name. "of azerene?"

chenle clicks his tongue, not sparing the older a glance. "yes, that one".

the older male hums, merely glancing at the crown prince. "why do you sound so uninterested? marriage should be a fun topic for you".

his teasing tone doesn't breeze past chenle, but the younger doesn't comment on it, focusing on the topic of the novel in his hands. "not when it's with a women i don't know, i'm just being placed into a union with a stranger, a stranger who i'm then going to have make babies with so that the treasurable zhong family lives on for generations and generations".

"well isn't that the whole point of royal families, though?" kun asks absentmindedly, it seems he meant to say that in his head, seeing as how he slaps a hand over his mouth immediately after the question escapes his lips, but chenle doesn't mind, getting offended over such a question is the last of his worries. "..sorry".

"it's alright" chenle responds, his voice a low echo in the expanse of a room. "it's how most things go anyway, i should know better than to question it".

"i just don't think it's fair" chenle only gives a mere hum, though he notices kun's tone of concern. "yeah you're supposed to create heirs at the end of the day, but not even with someone you love?"

"you ask too many questions".

kun scoffs, turning to chenle with a look of betrayal in his eyes. "i'm just saying what your thinking, chenle, i worry about you".

chenle, who sighs silently, finally closes his book and gives the older an indistinguishable look. "you don't have to worry about me, i'll be fine, i always am".

a lie, one as clear as day too. chenle doesn't exactly know how to explain what he feels, sometimes it feels like everything is bubbling up slowly, closing in on him and suffocating him to death. he assumes it's normal to feel like this, especially with people who don't talk about how they feel, but chenle doesn't know how to bring it up to people without making everything weird.

it's all just complicated.

chenle finally stands up, running a hand through his hair and folding the page of his book as to not lose his page. he makes his way over to kun, whose mindlessly folding his own clothes as he admires the butterfly tank before him.

the butterflies were an installment chenle begged for his father to get for him after he read a book on metamorphosis once, it was a gift for his twelfth birthday, though he wanted a room to be a whole conservatory for him, his father said that would be "unnecessary" (and as an adult, chenle is inclined to agree with that statement). he finds the winged beings to be beautiful, a kind of striking that only specific animals can replicate.

yes, chenle is a huge fan of butterflies, his love for them runs deep. he lightly taps the glass encasing the creatures with his nail, gaze laser focused on the flying insects and their bright colored wings.

"you say that all the time, but i can never truly tell if you are" kun finally responds after letting his answer wither in the silence of the room, his eyes wander over to chenle, who does nothing but admire the trapped butterflies before him.

the words get a small smile out of chenle, but he's not sure why, though they do make him smile. "i am fine, there's no need to look in further".

"you know me, i'm always going to look further".

chenle allows for himself to chuckle at the response. he's right about that.

he stares at the butterflies encased in the glass box, practically trapped against their own will. his mind wanders, the butterflies remind him of something very familiar.

but he pretends to have no idea what it is.

CHENLE OFTEN FINDS HIMSELF SLEEPLESS THESE DAYS. after the first two hours of insomnia took over, the crown prince decided to entertain himself by reading that book he's left off at earlier that day, but by the time he looked at the clock again, two more hours had passed, and he had finished the book which he once thought would enthrall him until his body gave into it's exhaustion. he lets his arm fall, placing the copy of strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde onto his desk. he's still not tired, for some unknown reason. 

maybe another book will do the trick, chenle's mind tells him, and he agrees with that statement enough that he swings out of his bed and his feet grace the cold floor. it's cold, it's always cold at night, but chenle thinks it's always extra cold at night on purpose.

the crown prince tries his best to shake off the freezing temperature of the room, slipping on a fuzzy sweater and grabbing the lamp from his desk. if sleep isn't going to come him, he could at least spend some of the night in the library, it'll be a good way to pass time.

the library is a nice place of comfort, chenle has always been able to relax his mind the most when he's reading. reading is one of the easiest hobbies to have, because you're not tiring yourself out, but your also doing something fun (but chenle has learned that some people don't really describe reading as their idea of 'fun').

when chenle was younger, reading was really all he did. he was homeschooled, so the most lessons he got were three a day, mother and father never cared about what he had to tell them, dismissing his words as just idiotic child talk. no one ever gave him the time of day if they weren't forced to, so chenle quickly found comfort in the many books which littered the library.

by the time chenle was fourteen, he had already read most of the books in the library, and that includes the unnecessarily huge dictionary. he could almost always be found in the library if not in his room or the rose garden, immersing himself in another world of fiction or nonfiction.

the library is basically his second home, he's there all the time, engrossed in the literature which is all he can see.

the constant creaking of the old structure is all chenle can hear as he makes his way over to the library. at one in the morning, the palace is truly creepy, like one of those haunted buildings full of spirits that suddenly scare you in the night.

now, chenle isn't one to believe in the supernatural, but some of these nightly events in the castle truly can't be explained away. sometimes, he almost gives in to believing all of stories about paranormal activity happening in the castle, something about an old king going haywire and murdering his whole entire family.

father and mother would tell him the stories to scare him out of staying up late, saying that old king chen was gonna come out of the walls late at night and scare him if he ever tried to roam the palace halls past his bedtimes.

but chenle's an adult now, much too grown to be believing in some make believe ghost stories.

back to his mission of getting to the library with nothing but his tiny lamp, chenle sighs in the darkness of the empty halls, his sigh seemingly echoing in the silence and bouncing off the walls. he pauses to observe his barely lit surroundings, and he feels his stomach drop when he hears the sound of faint footsteps across the hall.

who else could be awake at this time?

"hello?"

chenle pauses again as he listens to the greeting. he recognizes that voice, it's you, chenle thinks he could recognize your voice from miles away. "y/n?" he calls out, he doesn't mean to do that, he just really wanted to say your name, is that such a crime? he doesn't think it is.

when you finally come into his like of vision, chenle lets out a sigh of relief, the pit in his stomach will hopefully go away now. for some reason, he feels much more safe with you here. "oh god you scared me ch— your highness".

ah, it's still the same, despite your long friendship, you still don't usually address chenle by his name. you always say it's because you have to "respect his title", but chenle doesn't really like it. he likes it more when you call him by his first name, even if it is disrespectful for a commoner to do such a thing.

chenle never cares when it's with you.

"you scared me" chenle emphasizes, taking in a deep breath. "my apologies".

"it's fine, uh.. why are you awake exactly?" you ask, though chenle wanted to ask you that, it seems you beat him to it. how funny. "if you don't mind me asking of course".

of course, all you ever really do is look after people, you take after your mother, it's evident to chenle that being a medic was your calling. "oh i can't sleep, i'm heading to the library to get a book that'll hopefully tire me".

you chuckle at the words, your laughter is pretty, chenle notes. "of course, you're always in that library, seems you spend most of your time reading" chenle laughs at your tone of voice, your teasing him, you talk like how your mother used to talk about him when you were children.

"reading is..fun".

those words seem to confuse you, and you blink, lightly tilting your head to the side. "i have never heard someone describe reading as fun, but i guess it makes sense for you".

chenle wants to ask about the meaning of those words, because they seem to have so many layers, but you begin again before he can even try to ask. "i heard about your new marriage" there's a certain distaste in your voice chenle can't exactly pinpoint. "congratulations".

chenle allows for himself to frown, his stomach curling in an uncomfortable way at just the thought of his new marriage. he doesn't want to talk about it, because it's just going to make him upset. "oh yeah it's quiet.. exciting news".

you pick up on his tone of disgust, his gritted teeth, and the way his eyes quickly cast around the room, but you stay silent. "anyway, i should be heading to the library, find a nice book, have any recommendations?"

you blink at the sudden question, scouring your mind for books you think the crown prince might be charmed by. "frenchman's creek by daphne du maurier".

chenle raises an eyebrow. "that's in the library?"

"yeah i uh— i read it a couple weeks ago, it was amazing" you mutter, trying to keep eye contact with the prince who was clearly trying to not look you in the eye. "i think you'll like it, i mean— i hope you do".

chenle hums, noting down your recommendation in his mind. "i'll make sure to read it then, thank you y/n, good night".

your eyes widen as you realize that it is indeed the middle of the night, and your conversation has to end eventually. "right right, it's no problem, good night your highness".

chenle frowns again at the sound of his title escaping your lips, but he doesn't say anything, just gives you a small smile and walks past you and towards the library.

he doesn't see you watch him walk away, he's much too busy thinking about how much he wants you to say his name.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT? YOU LOOK TIRED" THE WORRYING tone in his fiancée's voice doesn't breeze past chenle, but he pays it no mind, ignoring the question. yinuo blinks, clearly expecting the silence, chenle's mother did say he's prone to giving people the "cold shoulder". she sighs, reaching out to touch his shoulder but immediately pulling back, he probably wouldn't like that. "chenle.."

"i'm fine" chenle replies faster than he intends, he brushes off any dust that might be on his shoulder and rubs his right eye. "i just lost a few hours of sleep that's all" he states rather unconvincingly, but yinuo doesn't comment more, just sighs again.

chenle holds out his arm, which the princess quickly links with hers, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. "let's just get this over with.." he shakes his head, feeling a hand of support from his future wife run up and down his back. "the faster we get through with this the faster we both get out of here".

yinuo is happy to know chenle doesn't despise her, he's just not comfortable with her, and chenle, he really is trying his best, he might be coming off as rude, but he just isn't on board with this whole thing. "they're all so extra, making us do this.."

"right, the least they could do is make us enter at different times but no, we have to do this walk in together like were walking down the aisle".

chenle glances down at their linked arms, letting a sigh escape his lips as the two of them finally exit the room they had been put into together. starting their way off to the meeting room down the hall, chenle allows for his mind to wander, he can't be focused on his fiancée or upcoming marriage, he's much too focused on other things.

you, namely.

the crown prince can't focus on what's going on when the only thing prominent in his mind is you. yeah your exchange last night was a short one, but it was also a memorable one. after weeks of going back and forth with things that just didn't make sense, and a mind that was in a frenzy, just talking to you in the middle of the night was enough to relax chenle.

you two haven't been able to talk in the past few weeks.. evidently, chenle is a prince to be king who has to focus on ruling a kingdom and your a medic who has to focus on taking care of others. you two have no time to be friends now that you're adults, it doesn't help that chenle now has all this added pressure on him, and you clearly feel like he's become a stranger.

chenle guesses the.. power imbalance is what's driving this. he's apart of the royal family, a crown prince, set to take the crown and become king, your a commoner, someone who lives just above the poverty line, the only reason you're able to stay afloat is because you took up your mothers position as the palace's medic, but even then, you can almost barely take care of her.

chenle hates thinking about it, because the two of you used to be so close, an unbreakable pair, two boys who couldn't be separated even with the differences between you two. your ranks in society never bothered you, never disturbed your friendship, never disturbed you as a pair, it never mattered. he often finds himself reminiscing on those times, the times where he could see you without his mind listing everything he had to do after that.

"chenle? are you listening?"

chenle blinks out of his daze, arm still linked with yinuo's as he gazes at his future father in law. he pretends to not see the look of worry the woman on his arm sends him, clearing his throat. "yeah, my apologies".

"uh huh, my regards to you, i know the sudden.. passing of the king was hard on you, and we hope your grieving well".

so your throwing your daughter at me, how great. chenle laughs in his mind, tongue poking through his inner cheek, he already knew he wasn't going to like where this was going. "now, about the marriage—"

chenle tunes him out easily, letting out a silent sigh which his mother hears, sending him a glare from across the room as the breath escapes his lips. he doesn't pay any mind to the look from his mother, though he knows she's quickly getting annoyed with how he isn't paying attention.

the discussion is exactly how chenle thought it'd be, the parents discuss everything and just assume their children agree from the get go, they don't even bother asking them their thoughts, or even how they felt, they just threw them into this like they were some baby making machines.

chenle guesses it's just how the cycle goes, his parents had to go through this, and so did their parents before them, and their parents before them, and so on. this is how things work, chenle can't run away from his fate, even with how much he opposes this arrangement.

"and for children.." just the mention of children is enough to make both chenle and yinuo tense, but they both play it off as the cold of the room making them flinch. "you can decide how many you want, but more than one would be nice, and especially a son would be nice".

of course, chenle sings in his head. he wonders how much they'll have to drill that into their heads, some stupid importance men have or something. he glances at his fiancée, whose trembling in her place beside him. he places a gentle hand on her back. "it's alright, calm down" he whispers enough so that she can hear it over the chatter of her father and mother.

"this is not fun".

"yeah, tell me about it" the crown prince grits his teeth, his comment eliciting a small laugh out of the woman beside him. he has to admit, he does enjoy her company.

"ah, i see you two are getting along!"

upon hearing the remark, the two pause, an awkward silence spreading between them. they exchange a small glance before chenle clears his throat, speaking up. "yeah um.. this was a nice meeting, we can continue chatting about the marriage another time, we thank you for coming, the guards will escort you out".

though chenle smiles at his future in laws, he feels nothing but nauseous the whole time.

"WHERE ARE YOU HEADING, YOUR HIGHNESS?" THE QUESTION from kun isn't enough to make chenle stop in his tracks, and he continues his way down the hall. kun blinks as the younger ignores him, furrowing his eyebrows. he then lets out a sigh, letting his hands drop as his eyes stay pointed at the crown prince. "chenle? where are you going?" chenle still doesn't stop, but he seems to acknowledge the older this time.

"to the rose garden" he responds quickly, only getting another eyebrow furrow from the older. he finally stops, turning towards the other with a look that kun cannot exactly pinpoint at the current moment. "if you need me, i'll be there".

"is something wrong?"

chenle takes in a breath, gritting his teeth. curse qian kun for being so caring, curse him for always knowing when something's up. he's quick to shake his head, mustering the fakest of fake smiles. "nothing's wrong! i just need fresh air!"

kun blinks, totally not buying that horrible lie, but he doesn't say anything about it, just mutters a small "okay" and lets chenle be on his way. chenle didn't mean to lie to kun, he just doesn't know how to explain his feelings at the current moment.

so, he gives the older a small smile, turning on his heel and making a beeline towards the titular rose garden, the one that's given him so much comfort over these past few years. he doesn't know why just the presence of everyone in that room was enough to make him want to throw up, but his anxieties wouldn't settle, he can't bear to stay inside this castle much longer.

chenle has no idea why the feeling of suffocation is constantly overtaking him these days, but the walls are slowly pushing in on him, leaving him breathless and nothing more than a weak human vessel.

when chenle does finally step outside, met by a plethora of roses and the smell of pollen in the air, the pit in his stomach doesn't settle. instead of letting out a sigh of relief, he pauses in his tracks, allowing for his eyes to roam the area he'd grown to love as a child.

chenle sighs, not of relief, but sighs with another indescribable feeling he can't explain, walking up to a display of white roses. he knows they're sharp, your old warnings flash in his head as he stares at the pretty flowers before him, tracing them with his fingers as he's always done when in the rose garden.

"don't hurt yourself again, your highness".

it's when chenle hears you that he immediately jumps, but then he relaxes, slowly. what were the odds of this happening again? you seem to read his mind, because you chuckle at the expression which graces his features. chenle raises an eyebrow, a humored smile coming to his face. "you sure you actually have bandaids this time?"

the reference makes you snicker, looking down at the floor as you turn away from your childhood friend. you rummage through your pocket, finally pulling out a bandaid, one which wasn't present when you were seven and yelling for chenle to not touch the roses. "there you go, now you won't cut your finger".

for once today, chenle suddenly feels relaxed, it's always with you, isn't it? his mind notes that down, he'll remember it for later. he takes the bandaid from you, a smile coming to his face as the nostalgia settles on him. "thank you, you're always looking after everyone, you sure know how to do your job".

the words make you pause, but you don't look at chenle as you think of a response, instead turning to the white roses displayed in front of you. you lightly poke them, letting out a small hum of affirmation. "well, what kind of medic would i be if i didn't look out for others? i'd be an idiot to ever let our highness get hurt".

chenle's lips turn up, and he laughs in just the slightest, but he isn't sure why he laughs. there's just something about you that makes chenle feel at ease, you calm his worries without even having to do anything, it's not like he's even telling you about these worries either, but the anxiety he once felt seems to be nothing now.

spending time with you calms chenle, he wants to preserve as much of this time as possible.

"i started reading your recommendation" chenle suddenly blurts out, wanting to continue a conversation with you. he doesn't know how limited your time will be. "frenchman's creek.. i like it so far, it's an interesting choice, though".

you raise an eyebrow. "why's that?"

"i didn't peg you for an enjoyer of pirate romances" chenle shrugs, and he quickly looks away, not wanting to stare at you for too long, because he doesn't think he'd be able to look away.

"well i don't like limiting my interests to one genre, you'd know about that".

chenle blinks, the words striking him in a way only the words you say can. how do you always manage to do that? it's not really the words, it's just how you say them, even if you don't make your intentions clear, chenle always knows what you mean. "it always manages to surprise me, i'm not sure what's gonna happen next".

you click your tongue, a small smile coming to your face. "just so you know, it doesn't have a happy ending".

chenle gasps, overdramatizing the volume of his voice. "you're giving me spoilers? in the rose garden?" his words make you snicker, and you pick a white rose from the bush, unfazed by the thorns which slowly sink into your fingers.

"i didn't spoil anything specific" you finally turn back to chenle, twirling the rose between your fingers. "just told how it was gonna end up.." you mutter, stepping closer to chenle unconsciously. you look at up, suddenly anxious as ever. "may i?" you ask, motioning towards the rose with your eyes.

chenle blinks, his mind going blank for a few seconds. what do you want to do exactly? he gazes at your hands fidgeting on the stem of the flower, and the pieces slowly put themselves together in his brain. are you going to..? "i— yes, sure.."

you raise an eyebrow, not really trusting the seemingly hesitant consent chenle had given, but he clears his throat, reiterating it for you; "yes, you can".

upon hearing the answer, you step closer once again, placing the rose into his hair, your careful to not hurt chenle, and especially careful because you don't want the stem to get tangled in chenle's hair. "i.. i thought it'd look nice on you, and it does, you look— you look great".

chenle blinks, a sudden red hue coloring his cheeks. it's such a basic compliment, one he's been given many times by other people, but it feels different coming from you.

it's always different when it's with you.

chenle clears his throat, unable to prevent a smile from crossing his face. you don't look at him anymore, looking away to prevent yourself from burning up, but you allow for a smile to come to your face as you think about the action you just performed.

you have no idea why you're so giddy about this.

"oh um.." chenle pauses, laughing awkwardly. "thank you, that's very sweet".

"oh it's no problem i just— i uh, it compliments your hair".

chenle hums, looking down at the floor. he hopes you don't see his face burning, and you hope he doesn't see your face burning, it's such a hilarious thing, but you both are much too flustered to find your current circumstances amusing. "you have an eye for those things too?"

"well i have an eye for many things".

i can see that, chenle doesn't say that, though, just smiles at you. you only give him a mere glance, and a small smile yourself. "it was nice seeing you, ch— your highness" you notice how your correction makes chenle frown, but you continue. "i'll be off now, have a good day".

chenle only frowns again when he realizes your time together is over, he wants to continue the conversation, wants to try to use an excuse, wants to use his power to order you to stay, but he doesn't give into the desires he wants so badly, just nods. "oh uh, don't let me keep you here".

you chuckle. "i wouldn't really mind if you did".

the words have an unspoken affect on chenle, an affect that he can't exactly explain, but he can feel. he can feel it in the way his ears heat up and his stomach flips. "alright then, bye y/n".

"bye".

and as chenle watches you leave, the feeling of anxiety he'd entered the garden with seemed to wither away, dissolving away like it was nothing.

he thinks about your 'bye' for hours, unable to get the sound of your voice out of his bed.

"HOW HAVE YOU BEEN THESE DAYS?" CHENLE doesn't answer immediately, as always these days. he skims the row of books before him, fidgeting with the one in his hands. he's not ignoring his friend, he's just focused on other things. "fine" he responds, grunting as he lightly struggles to pull the book from the shelf, but he doesn't ask for help. he doesn't need help. "what's with that look?"

park jisung blinks at his longtime friend, raising a suspicious eyebrow at him. "you don't look fine".

chenle scoffs, suddenly feeling super defensive. he doesn't look at jisung anymore, the other is going to begin to annoy him if he keeps staring at him. "what do you know about looking fine?"

he hears jisung's sigh of defeat. "well i'm just concerned for you, we haven't talked in a while, you've been so busy preparing for your coronation and.. marriage".

chenle resists the urge to roll his eyes. "my coronation isn't for another three months, preparations have all been lackluster".

"and the marriage?"

chenle snaps his head towards jisung, giving him an indescribable look. jisung is quick to shut his mouth, not wanting to face chenle's terrifying wrath. the older prince glares dangerously at the younger, who chuckles awkwardly and scratches his hand. he doesn't have to say anything, but jisung knows he should probably change the subject.

"uh.. um, are you still friends with that medic kid?"

now that is a question chenle wasn't expecting. a question about you? when he snaps his head over at jisung for the second time, the younger almost freezes, noticing the pointed look in his eyes. "what?"

"y/n, the medic kid!" jisung reiterates, clearly thinking the issue is that chenle didn't hear him the first time. "his mom used to work here, right? is he still around?"

chenle narrows his eyes, puzzled at where jisung is trying to go with this.. question. he'd been dealt with a fair amount of teasing from his friend because of how much closer the two of you seemed, jisung often questioned how much of a "friend" you really were to chenle, but the older would always combat it with a glare and snappy insult as a response.

"yes he's still around.. he took over mrs. l/n's position".

jisung blinks dumbly. "oh? what happened to her?"

just the question is enough to put a sour taste in chenle's mouth. "she just couldn't go on any longer one day, she retired a few years ago and he took over her position".

"you don't know what happened to her?"

"y/n didn't tell me anything specific" chenle is beginning to get annoyed. he knows it's in jisung's nature to be curious like this but god, if he wanted to know these things so bad he could've just asked you. "just go ask him if you're so curious".

he hears a small "hmph" sound from jisung before the younger prince sounds again. "i will then! y/n! hey!"

chenle didn't actually think you'd be passing by the library at that exact moment, but you were. you pause, backtracking as you look into the library, blinking at the jumping prince before you. "uh— hi, your highness, what do you need me for?"

jisung is quick to chuckle, waving off your use of formalities. "please, there's no need to be so formal, were friends after all!"

you only respond with a small smile, giving chenle a mere glance. "i'm just doing what i'm supposed to, i can't call you by your name.."

"well right now, you're going to call me by my name" jisung demands, which makes you snicker. he really hasn't changed. you look down at the floor, hands picking at your nails. "your allowed to, right chenle?"

chenle was not expecting to be included in this conversation. is jisung reading his mind or something? how could he seem to tell exactly what chenle wanted to say? he feels his face heat up, but he isn't exactly sure why it does that. "i mean— yeah, yes, were friends".

jisung then turns back to you, a clear 'see?' expression on his face as he smiles in victory at chenle proving him right. you chuckle at chenle's response, smiling again, but it's much more directed at chenle this time. "fine then, jisung, what do you need me for?"

jisung then walks towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder (a hand chenle is suddenly laser focused on) almost as if to reassure you. "how have you been?"

your eyebrows furrow. it's not a weird question to ask, you just weren't expecting for him to ask a question. you share another confused glance with chenle, then snickering lightly. "fine.. i uh— i've just been trying my best, as always".

jisung hums, his finger going up to caress your cheek lightly, a finger which chenle again laser focuses on, he can't help but narrow his eyes at jisung, wondering what the hell is he doing?

"uh huh, and how's your mother?"

at the mere mention of your mother, you seem to go still, pausing as you let jisung's question simmer into the air. you try your best to collect your words, opening your mouth to speak, but then you close it, as if wanting to keep your thoughts to yourself.

chenle picks up on your sudden silence, as if he could feel your heightened anxieties, he speaks up; "are you alright, y/n?" he asks, concern lacing his tone as he sees the worry in your eyes as you think about your mother.

you snap out of your little daze, clearing your throat as you nod. "yeah yeah, i uh— i'm fine, mom is.. she's doing okay".

"okay?"

"she's sick" you blurt quickly, fingers fidgeting at shirt collar. "but she's doing much better now, i'm taking care of her and everything.." you look away from the two royals, scratching your cheek out of habit.

"oh, oh my god i didn't know she was sick" jisung realizes how awkward he made the situation. "um, i wish her the best".

chenle doesn't say anything, he sees the way you glance around the room, desperately trying to think about everything else. "yeah, tell her i said hi" he states immediately, and you finally stop looking around the room to look at chenle, he notices that look in your eyes, the one where it seems like your about to cry, but you're holding in your tears.

even with all that, you smile at chenle, as if his words had healed you in some way. "i'll make sure to do that, i uh.. i have to go now, i don't want for anyone to die while i stand here".

jisung's eyes widen, and he gasps. "right! go go, you have a job to do, sorry for holding you up" you dismiss his words with a wave, jisung is still so cute, as cute as he was when you were children.

"it's fine really, you actually kind of made my day".

"well i'm happy that i could!"

you smile again at jisung, then smile lightly at chenle, who almost wants to jump towards you and trap you in a tight hug. "thank you, your hi— jisung" you quickly correct yourself, clearing your throat. "i'll see you some other time, and you chenle, i'll see you later".

chenle allows for himself to go red at the words, what do you mean by later? he tries his best to register the words, and the fact that you just called him by his name after what seems like forever, but he doesn't say anything, even though he feels jisung's gaze burning holes into his head. "later? yeah, later".

chenle has no idea why he agreed.

it's you, that's why he agreed.

WHEN CHENLE FINDS HIMSELF SLEEPLESS AGAIN that very night, he doesn't even think before raising out of his bed and deciding he was going to go to the library. he stares at the copy of frenchman's creek on his desk, mind immediately flashing with thoughts of you. he feels the structure of the book cover with his finger, blinking as he weighs his options for a moment. he could go back to sleep, but he could also go to the library and entertain himself with more literature.

"i already got up anyway.." chenle mutters to himself, grabbing the book on his desk and the situated lamp on his desk. he doesn't mind the chills which course through his body, though it's cold, the cold is no longer a bother to him, he's much too busy thinking about books (and you) anyway..

when chenle leaves his room, he notices the halls aren't as dark as they were the other time he walked them when he went to the library the other night. he blinks into the halls, the air practically pushing against him the moment he leaves his room. chenle allows for himself to let out a weary breath, no one is around to watch him be vulnerable anyway.

as he steps out of his room, the floor of the old structure creaking under his feet, he feels a breeze of cold air rush past him, but for some unknown reason, he doesn't shiver.

chenle doesn't allow for himself to stand by and simply breath any longer, so, he takes himself down the hallway, his feet leading him to his familiar place of solace (well second most at least). he notices how the hallway seems to be more lit, he could see torches as he passed through the long corridors, eyes trained on the paintings which situated themselves on the walls.

there have always been paintings decorating the walls, paintings which dictate the many generations of the zhong family. chenle watched as a kid as an artist was appointed to paint him, father, and mother, a new painting to place on the timeline of the zhong dynasty which would extend across the entire palace.

as chenle spends more time thinking about it, it dawns on him, he's going to be displayed on the wall in a painting one day as the king. one day he's going to have to sit down with yinuo and their inevitable child as an artist uses several colors on a canvas to create a painting of the next zhong generation, and his eventual child is going to have to walk past it every time they make it through this expanse of a hallway.

chenle used to enjoy staring at the paintings, used to love watching the process of paintings being created, but now, with father gone, chenle can't bring himself to glance at the painting situated on the wall without feeling nauseous. every time he tries to look at it, a silent breath has to escape his lips, or else he feels like he's going to collapse onto the floor.

he developed a habit of speed walking past the final portrait in the hallway after fathers passing, he could never look at his face again after having to watch the life slowly fade away from his eyes. he can't even look at a photograph of his father anymore without wanting to throw up everywhere.

when chenle makes it to the library, having walked very fast past the last painting in the hallway, he pushes open the doors immediately, wanting so badly to escape the suffocating hallway.

when chenle does make it into the room, he's quick to close the door behind him, but he startles when he notices that someone else is in the room. he blinks and narrows his eyes at the figure in the room, then, he relaxes as he quickly realizes who it is.

it's you.

chenle feels himself calm in just the slightest upon knowing it's you in the room and not some other staff member. it's not that chenle has anything against the other staff, it's just.. it's different with you.

how many times does his mind have to conjure that up as an excuse?

chenle ignores the reprimanding voice, it's one he vaguely recognizes, it's not his voice, it's a distant voice that he thinks he could recognize if he focused hard enough.

but he can't, because you notice him, seemingly reading his thoughts as you turn back to make eye contact with the crown prince. "hi".

"hi" chenle replies easily, it's awkward, of course it's awkward, it's the middle of the night. his eyes dart away from yours, immediately scouring the library. you allow for yourself to snicker at his lack of attention on you, and he notices, now staring dead at you. "what?"

"nothing nothing" you mutter, dismissing it with a wave of your hand. chenle wants to ask about it, but he doesn't, just looks down at the floor. "how was it?"

"huh?"

"the book" you clarify, glancing down at the copy of frenchman's creek chenle has in his hands. chenle quickly feels his face heat up, of course you were referring to the book, what else would you be talking about? the air in the room? his walk down the halls? how he's doing? you patiently wait for his answer, flipping through a book in your hands as you let out a sigh.

"oh uh— it's a surprise, that's for sure, i didn't expect to enjoy it as much as i did, i didn't enjoy the ending, though".

you raise an eyebrow, but a smile comes to your face. "why not?"

chenle finally unfreezes and steps closer to you, the book tucked in his arms as he stands beside you, your shoulders lightly brushing against each other. your eyes finally gaze over at his, and when the two of you make eye contact, it's brief. chenle blinks, and he allows for his lips to turn up, he thinks you look very pretty in this moment, the lighting of the library emphasizing your features.

beautiful, he's beautiful, chenle, a voice sings in his head, a voice which is, again, familiar, but he can't exactly determine who it is.

"i wanted dona and jean to get their happy ending, i was rooting for them".

you hum, seemingly expecting that answer, your eyes shift towards the shelf before you, focused on the books which litter it. "well, i like to think it's realistic, it's not often that people get their happy endings, even if they do deserve it".

chenle takes in your words, it seems like such a you thing to say. "i would've preferred if they did have a happy ending, though, it's why i read fiction in the first place".

"you read fiction because..?"

"it's like an escape from reality".

the words make you pause, and for a second, chenle thinks he must've said something wrong, he can't read the look on your face. he blinks up at you, your silence taking him off guard. "i mean, i guess that makes sense".

you seem to want to say something else, you seem to have a lot of thoughts on your mind, but you don't disclose any of them, just smile. "so, did you like the book?..your highness".

you hesitated before saying it, and chenle knows you wanted to say his name, but you stopped yourself, as always. he feels his gut curl in an uncomfortable way, and he clears his throat.

"y/n?"

"yes?"

chenle takes a deep breath. "were friends" he states immediately, and he notices the way you begin to avoid his eyes, looking everywhere but at him. "were friends, we've known each other since we were seven, you can call me by my name".

the truthful statement makes you pause, and you begin to scour your mind for excuses. "i can't call you by your name, your a noble and i'm a—"

"that's an order".

your mouth closes immediately, you can't argue with that, you can't really argue with anything chenle says. chenle seems pleased by his victory, a small smile showing on his face. you quickly scoff, turning your head away from your childhood friend. "of course you can just do that".

"i just.. it doesn't matter if you work here, your my friend, you can call me by my name".

"alright then, your— chenle, did you like the book?"

chenle chuckles lightly, oh he loves the way you say his name. he remembers when you were younger, you'd always pronounce his name wrong, it frustrated you so much that you would just call him 'le' instead of his full name.

"i did, it was an enjoyable book, the plot made me crave more, i just.. i can't believe it ended like that".

"your still mad about it?"

"yes i'm mad about it! i need my happy ending for my pirate love story!"

you giggle at his words, you giggle, chenle can't believe it. he just made you giggle, in the dead of night, in the palace library, he made you giggle. you take the book away from his hands, placing it back between the other books in the romance section. "sadly, most love stories don't end that way".

chenle sighs, clicking his tongue. "i hate when that happens, i'd like to have just a little hope that true love actually works in the end.."

you chuckle again, shaking your head. "i never thought you'd be a fan of happy endings and stuff like that".

chenle raises an eyebrow, puzzled by the words. "why's that?" he asks, sounding just the slightest bit offended at the statement. you blink, and he guesses that you notice his tone of offense. you find it humorous, and chenle furrows his eyebrows this time.

"i don't know, i guess you struck me as the kind of person who'd enjoy bittersweet endings, you know, you seem to enjoy tragic love stories".

"i do enjoy tragic love stories" chenle makes sure to emphasize his point, and he quickly looks away from you. "but i also like when they have good endings, sometimes, love stories need their happy endings".

"that's cute" you comment, and chenle allows for a smile to come to his face. you didn't call him cute, per se, but it's still enough to make his cheeks go red. he should not be flustered, that's ridiculous, that's— he can't be flustered.

you don't mind his silence, instead walking over to another shelf to see what other books are there. chenle pokes his tongue against his inner cheek, watching you intently. the red dusting his cheeks doesn't go away, it just seems to amplify as you have your back towards him. "it's cute?"

"yeah, i can see where you're coming from, not all love stories need to be.. realistic, if it makes you feel better when the lovers have a happy ending, than who am i to judge?"

chenle rocks back and forth on his heels, letting out a small hum at your words. "so you're the kind of guy who enjoys tragic love stories with horrible endings?"

"on most occasions, yes".

you seem to finally find a book that you'll enjoy, because you pick one from the shelf and turn back to chenle. "so how are you feeling?"

"what?"

you merely glance at chenle, than glance back down at the book in your hands and read the synopsis on the back of it. "how are you feeling these days? you have a lot of new things being stacked on you now, you must be stressed out".

chenle allows for his jaw to drop in just the slightest, it's not like people don't ask him about how he feels, it's that he can't believe you noticed the mini battle he was having with himself. he can't believe you would even be concerned about how he was feeling, he felt like most people wouldn't care about what he was going through anyway.

"oh it's.." chenle pauses, truly not being able to actual formulate coherent words. "well it's a lot, but nothing i haven't been taught how to handle by father".

your face forms into an unreadable expression, one chenle hates because he doesn't exactly know what kind of expression it is. "they prepare you for things like this?"

"well.. mostly, but even with all the excessive lessons, it all kinds of goes to my head and makes my head spin, sometimes it feels like the palace is suffocating me, taking the air out of my lungs and leaving me helpless, sometimes— i don't know, i feel like i'm being swallowed by some horrible force which just wants to make me suffer, i'm not sure why i feel like this really but—"

chenle stops, clearing his throat as he quickly averts his gaze from yours. he has no idea where that vomit of words came from, but he feels if he continues talking, he's going to say something that he'll regret. you don't answer immediately, so chenle decides to speak up once again. "i'm sorry, i have no idea where that came from it's just.. i don't know, pretend i didn't say anything".

"don't apologize, it's good to talk about things like that once in a while, bottling everything up will just overwhelm you even more".

"it's just, i don't talk to people about things like this".

"why not?"

chenle shrugs, not really sure how to answer that question. "i feel they're sort of..unnecessary, i know i can't control how i feel but my feelings have never really felt important in most situations".

"they're important to me".

the words make chenle pause, his ears reddening and a sputter in his voice as he tries his best to respond to that statement. the words are so simple, but they have such a lasting effect on the crown prince that he can't really respond to them. you care, you care, he cares! that one inner voice screams in his head. he feels his heart begin beating sporadically, it's.. god he's so grateful for you. "oh.. uh, really?"

you smile, chuckling softly. "yeah they are, you shouldn't ever feel like they aren't".

chenle feels his stomach flip, you're so sweet. "i.. thank you, y/n".

chenle hopes you don't notice his red face as you spend the rest of the night conversing about several kinds of literature.

"ARE YOU NERVOUS?" CHENLE MAKES THE MISTAKE OF taking a weary breath when that question is asked. he hears the chuckle of amusement sound from his fiancée's lips, and he allows for a small smile to show on his face. "no" he responds, clearly lying, but yinuo doesn't seem to catch it, as he begins to pick at the fabric of her dress. he turns to her, noticing the clear anxiety she displays.

"i am" she responds, putting on her gloves and rubbing a scar on her knuckles. "i've never really been a big fan of.. crowds" she states, her tone exhibiting disgust as she says the word 'crowds'. chenle has been able to pick up on her habits pretty easily, he has spent much more time with her these days after all.

chenle hums at the response, he gets it, even as he grew up having to get used to these kinds of events, it never got easier. the pit in his stomach would often never cease, that nauseating feeling only heightened, and he could just barely mask the anxious expression on his face. "i get that, they're all too loud".

"i mean, do they really care about us that much? they can't just wait until the wedding.."

the sentence makes chenle snicker as he notices the mere irritation in her tone. "they all just want something to do, i guess" he mutters, pulling his sleeve over his wrist and repeating a reassuring mantra in his head.

it's nothing you haven't done before, chenle, just get it over with, and you'll be fine. chenle thinks if he focuses enough, he can hear his father's voice repeating the mantra to him in his head.

he caresses his wrist lightly, settling in the air of the room. he can hear the faint sound of people cheering outside, and just the sound is enough to make his stomach begin flipping, the anxiety is already heightening. "all that just to see us?"

"they want to see how in love we can look".

"seems unnecessary".

"it is unnecessary".

chenle laughs again, finally walking over to his fiancée and linking their arms together. he sighs, looking down at the floor. "you sure you're not nervous?" she asks once again, raising a curious eyebrow as she notices chenle's change in behavior.

"okay maybe i am a little nervous but that's besides the point".

yinuo laughs, humored by chenle's blatant honesty. he simply gives a small smile, turning to the door of the room and letting out another small breath. they have to face a crowd, a crowd of people who are here to see them and celebrate their totally real love, a crowd who are there to watch as they are confirmed future husband and wife, they're going to get married and have children that go on to take the throne, they have to look in love, they have to.. act in love.

chenle doesn't know how in love he can look, he might get too overwhelmed and throw up right then and there. just the idea of having to do all of this is enough to make him want to cry, and he never thought he'd ever think that, because he doesn't cry, he shouldn't cry, father taught him that enough through ear shattering yells and broken glass.

he hates feeling vulnerable, but in a moment like this, having to mask his feelings in front of a crowd of people who don't know any better, who probably don't care, vulnerability is his one true feeling.

he closes his eyes, taking another deep breath as he tries his best to ignore the anxiety settling upon him.

"chenle!"

chenle snaps out his anxious daze at the shout of his name, recognizing the voice as kun, who he remembers he forgot to greet this morning, as he was in a rush.

but it's not just kun, it's also you, and chenle almost falls to the floor and dies right then and there. kun has his fingers wrapped around your wrist, there's a smile on his face (and yours, chenle thinks your smile is so so pretty). "oh, hi kun, y/n".

look at both of them, chenle, not just y/n.

but for once, chenle doesn't listen to the reprimanding voice in his head.

he doesn't even check how in love with you he must look, just a few seconds ago he was freaking out over how he was supposed to look in love with the woman beside him, but he has no problem looking in love with you.

but he doesn't exactly realize that, too busy admiring you clear as day.

"i— we just wanted to wish you good luck" kun nudges you lightly, and you let out a small laugh as you look away nervously, a red hue tinting your cheeks as you avoid chenle's eyes. "both of you, your highness" he adds, bowing lightly at yinuo and nudging you so you can do the same.

yinuo just smiles, lightly laughing, but chenle is stuck in place, mesmerized by you and.. just you. "thank you, i have to say, everyone here is insanely sweet, i feel welcome".

"well that's my job, i can't have any future queens feeling uncomfortable".

the statement from kun makes you snort, and you shove him in the shoulder. you look away from him to glance at chenle, who is still lost in his mind, you furrow your eyebrows as you watch the cogs in his brains turn, what is he thinking so hard about?

"chenle" you call out.

seemingly snapping out of the trip inside of his mind, chenle looks up at you, hoping it isn't obvious that he's affected by your soft calling of his name. "good luck" you reiterate, a small whisper seemingly shared between only the two of you.

chenle feels his face heat up immediately, eyes widening at the sight of your pretty smile. "thank you, both of you, thank you".

chenle doesn't look over at yinuo when she gives him a weird look.

"right! again, good luck! y/n and i have to go do something right y/n?"

you seem to be puzzled by that comment, chenle determines that by the way your eyebrows furrow. "what? but i thought we were supposed to—"

"alright! good luck you two come on y/n let's go!" kun gives a quick smile and grabs your wrist again to drag you away from the newly engaged couple, who watch as you two make your way down the hall towards another part of the palace.

"weird.." chenle mutters.

"so what was that?" yinuo is quick to ask, making chenle snap his head towards her, clearly not expecting for her to ask him a question.

"what was what?"

"that, chenle" she reiterates, alluding to the little (not so little) lovesick gaze chenle had trained on you for that whole interaction. it's clear that, even with how chenle didn't check the adoration he was staring at you with, she definitely did. "you looked so smitten".

chenle allows for his expression to form into one of shock, what does she mean by that? what the fuck does she mean by that? that makes no sense, it's not like he's in love with you or anything, that would be absurd! that would be—

that wouldn't be entirely out of the picture, think about yourself chenle, the most shocking thing here would be you having no romantic feelings for him.

chenle is about to punch himself in the face for having such thoughts.

"i have no idea what your talking about".

"chenle, i know i don't know you personally like that, but i have never seen you look at someone like you look at him! what is his name? y/n? he has to have you under a spell or something, you were mesmerized".

chenle wants to say that those words are stupid, he wants to spit out some quick rebuttal and have them be on their way, but he can't muster up a coherent excuse for what she just described. how is he supposed to argue with that?

"well, y/n does know how to keep people on the hook".

"seems you enjoy being kept on the hook".

the statement makes chenle pause, and he feels his face burn once again, not at the words, but just at the thought of you, god he misses your presence already, is that weird to say? he's glad he doesn't say it out loud.

"it doesn't matter anyway, what am i supposed to do? tell him about it? not with how everything is turning out.. were getting married in a few months".

"but you're not in love with me" yinuo replies, she's sure of her words, she just knows, chenle almost feels like she's reading his mind. "you want him".

"i can't have him" chenle states as if it's a matter of fact, and it's true, he can't have you. it makes his heart hurt, the idea that even with how much he feels for you, how different it is with you, and how he's had these indescribable feelings for you since he was like eleven, he can't have you.

chenle can't run from his fate, the last thing he wants to do is break the rules, challenge a system that's been in place for pretty much decades at this point.

"you're not going to break the rules for true love?"

chenle just lets a disappointed sigh escape his lips, his stomach flips uncomfortably and he feels his head begin spinning, this topic makes him want to die in the worst way possible. "true love doesn't exist" he states rather harshly. god, he sounds like father, if seven year old chenle heard himself now, he'd grimace at the words and scowl at his new nature.

his heart aches as he utters those words, he can't help but think about you as he says those words.

good god, he feels so helpless.

"MOTHER, CAN I ASK YOU A QUESTION?" NINE YEAR OLD CHENLE liked to ask questions. chenle has always liked to ask questions, being curious is in his nature, it's just that unlike jisung, he's less annoying about it. when this question popped into his nine year old brain, he knew there was no way he could ever ask father about it, he'd never be able to come back from it. mother has always been much more understanding, even with the stubborn statements she often spouted.

"yes you can, chenle".

"are.. well, can a noble and a commoner ever end up together?"

the question received silence from his mother, who, though she had previously been humming to a pleasant tune, seemed to freeze at even the idea of that question. the nine year old prince watched as his mother's face did at least seven expression changes in a matter of seconds. "could you elaborate on that question, dear?"

"can royalty marry non-royalty? could i ever be with someone who isn't royal like me?"

the reason nine year old chenle was so interested in asking this question was because of something kun had mentioned to him, about one of his cousins marrying into a royal family far far away. it got his mind turning in ways only a child's mind can, he never knew that could happen, he had grown to think that he would just end up with any other princess but could he really have a different fate? could he really change his future?

seeing as how things have gone now.. no, he couldn't.

"it depends on how it goes down, chenle".

"has it ever happened before?"

"of course it has happened" his mother finally answered, and the curious young prince allowed for his eyes to widen comically. oh he was so interested now. "in most scenarios when it does happen the commoner becomes a royal".

"i thought that was outlawed".

that statement got a laugh out of his mother, which made the nine year old blink dumbly. "it can't be outlawed, chenle, that would be ridiculous".

"so could i be with someone of a different class?"

"well, it depends on how it all works out".

chenle blinked again, the wording of the sentence confusing the young prince even more. "would father ever approve of something like that?"

she then went silent again, turning away from chenle to gaze at the bright blue sky. "i'm.. not sure, you know how unpredictable he is".

"well that's why i didn't ask him this".

another chuckle sounded from his mother, and at nine years old, chenle didn't know what was more shocking, knowing that he could possibly not have to be forced into a marriage with a princess from a faraway kingdom, or knowing that his mother didn't really have an issue with that.

too bad he didn't try to use any of that childlike courage to get his point about this marriage across.

when the little parade celebrating his marriage is over, chenle finds himself immediately on his way somewhere. he doesn't know exactly where he was going, his feet seem to have control over themselves, and he can't exactly stop himself from walking.

oh, he knows where he's going.

his feet lead him to a familiar place, your office. throughout that whole.. gathering thing or whatever, he couldn't stop thinking about you. he usually can't stop thinking about you these days, just talking to you is enough to entertain his mind for weeks, surely that can't be normal, right?

"y/n?"

chenle's sudden call startles you, seeing as how you jump from your previous position at the sound of it. he just sort of stands there awkwardly, allowing for you to compose yourself as you smile at him. oh you're smile is so pretty, chenle could stare at it for hours. "oh lord, you scared me! your highness".

chenle doesn't even register the title, just gives a small smile. "sorry i'm just.." he pauses, trying to collect his words. "i don't know, actually, i just kind of came here on a whim" he shrugs, looking down at the floor and not straight at you.

you simply let out a silent chuckle, turning back to your desk and going back to packing. chenle blinks, biting down on his bottom lip as he clears his throat. "oh really? is something bothering you?"

chenle allows for himself to look up again, your back is turned now anyway, so you can't see his rapidly reddening face. "a lot is bothering me, really, it feels like i can't do anything these days without feeling like the world is slowly tearing me apart limb by limb".

"well that's certainly a way to explain your feelings" chenle can't tell how you feel about the whole thing from the tone of your voice, it's something that makes him worry, because he's anxious your making fun of him and he won't be able to tell.

much to his own surprise, you turn around and step towards him. "are you feeling alright? like— physically at least?" you ask, tilting your head to the side to get a better look at him. just your eyes on him is enough to have chenle's stomach doing cartwheels, he hopes you don't notice how flustered he is, that would be extremely embarrassing.

"yeah i'm not dying or anything i'm just.. i'm overwhelmed".

well you'd expect that from someone like chenle, someone in such a position of power. chenle is a crown prince set to be king, he's getting married in a few months (that fact makes your heart hurt for a reason you can't explain), he's the next ruler of the zhong dynasty, of course he is feeling overwhelmed.

"ah well that's expected" you laugh lightly. "you have no symptoms though?"

is my clearly reddening face a symptom? my fluttering stomach? my seemingly labored breathing? why can't you tell i'm madly in love with you yet!?

the screaming voice in his head is just as annoyed as chenle is at his current circumstances. you narrow your eyes as you stare at him, and for a moment, chenle thinks you might be reading his mind, but he quickly dismisses such thoughts because that's ridiculous.

"no, no symptoms, i'm alright".

you seem to want to ask for more reassurance, but you don't, instead shutting your mouth and smiling at chenle. "good, i can't have you dying".

"you'd never let me die".

"you're right about that".

chenle looks down at the floor, determined to not make eye contact with you. "where are you heading?"

chenle only realizes then that you're packing your stuff, he didn't even note it down when he stepped into the room and saw that you were doing it, he was much more focused on just beginning a conversation with you, he was much more focused on talking than observing.

you hum, giving him a mere glance then looking back down to the small set of items you were packing. "i'm going to visit my mother".

chenle blinks, the words coming as a small surprise to him. "why? is she alright?"

you quickly glance back up to give him a reassuring smile. "just doing a routine check up, and it's nice to visit your mother once in a while, i need to make sure she's doing well".

chenle responds with a small 'ah', watching as you continue to pack, he feels his stomach churn uncomfortably once again, if he stays in this castle any longer, he might die from the walls which seem to slowly be pushing the air out of his lungs.

"can i come?"

chenle has no idea where that came from, it's like he had no control over his own thoughts or words, he blurted that out in a moment of vulnerability, a moment of.. wanting. he can't stay here any longer, he might die. you now fully look at him and furrow your eyebrows, clearly as puzzled as chenle is by the words. "what?" you chuckle lightly, and chenle feels his face burn immediately.

"i'm sorry, i don't even know where that came from i'll g—"

"no no you can.." you pause for a moment, collecting your words. "you can tag along if you want to i just— i don't know, you can leave the castle?"

"well yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to take me with you i don't even know why i asked that in the first place".

"chenle" you say softly, and just you saying his name like that has chenle's knees feeling weak. how did he deny his feelings for you for so long when you have him feeling like this? he's almost positive you can notice how flustered he is now. "if you want to come visit her with me, you can".

chenle stares at you for what seems like years (in his eyes), contemplating whether he should take your offer. your basically holding your hand out to him, begging for him to take it, for him to intertwine his fingers with yours. how could he ever turn down such a proposition?

"i— okay".

"okay? so you'll accompany me?"

"yeah, yes yes! i will" he replies much too enthusiastically for his own liking, you seem to catch on, as you laugh at his sudden shout. if your laugh wasn't so pretty chenle would've immediately turned away and replied with some snappy rebuttal.

"nice" you whisper, finally finishing your packing. chenle watches you intently, he can't exactly speak at the moment. luckily, you speak up once again. "we have to do something, though".

"what?"

you catch chenle's puzzled expression, and you laugh once again. "a disguise, just so you don't cause an uproar while we go visit my mother".

for the first time this whole entire day, chenle lets out a small laugh, amused by the words which escape your lips. "were gonna sneak around?"

you snicker, looking down at the floor. oh you're adorable, chenle shouts it out in his head, he can't tell you face to face so he'll shout it there.

"yeah, guess you could say that".

though he's just the slightest bit skeptical, chenle trusts you, and a smile crosses his face.

CHENLE DIDN'T REALLY THINK HE'D HAVE as much fun as he does sneaking into the village with you. well it's not really sneaking, you live here, you've grown up here, you just had to put him in some totally not suspicious cloak so that he doesn't draw attention when you make it outside of the castle. he almost fell on his face when you dragged him out of the palace gates, because of the way you dragged him, and because you started holding his hand.

chenle feels like a girl obsessing over a boy crush, just you holding his hand is enough to make him begin overthinking the whole thing in his head. according to you, you had to hold his hand to make things seem more natural, but he suspects that you're lying because of how red your face is as you try to avoid eye contact with him.

chenle has only really been to the village a few times in his whole life, though he's had his fair share of experiences here as a child, he never got to stop and observe his surroundings, much too busy trying to settle his anxiety while watching all of the people in the crowd burn holes into his head with their stares.

chenle has always been fascinated by the lives of others, whether it be the stories kun told of the urban legends village kids would spread, or the many times he begged the staff to take him on carriage rides throughout the kingdom as a child. he likes seeing situations through other people's eyes, the life of citizens who don't live as royalty seems like nothing far from the fictional stories he reads in the books in the library.

"you almost pulled off my arm, that was totally suspicious!" chenle whisper-yells, but it's not a shout of seriousness, it's playful, the beginning of a banter.

"oh i'm sorry your highness! do you need medical attention?"

chenle feigns an offensive gasp at the sarcastic comment from you, which results in nothing but a snicker from you as you nudge him with your shoulder. he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb unconsciously, ignoring his clearly heating cheeks as he performs the action.

"do you still live in the same place you grew up?"

"hm? oh yeah, we could never really afford to get another place, it's become a super comforting place for me.."

"ah, i see".

chenle admires your face for much longer than he was supposed to, and if you notice, you don't seem to care enough to comment on it.

chenle allows for his eyes to roam freely around the expanse of a town. it's a pretty place, even with how tiny it seems, he feels much more relaxed here than in the large palace he grew to know as a home, the palace was really in the middle of nowhere, no fellow citizens around for him to make connections with or whatever. this town is the clear definition of community, the kind of place where everyone knows everyone.

"oh y/n! y/n!"

chenle startles from his thoughts when a shout rings in his ears, you snap your head towards the figure, a figure chenle can tell you recognize because you give them a smile, he opts to stay silent in this interaction. "hi tao, how is ying doing?"

the man smiles brightly at you, pulling you into an abrupt hug, making your fingers slip from chenle's. you squeak as he squeezes you in his arm, but you manage a smile, resisting the urge to glare at chenle as he silently snickers at your suffering. "she's recovering well! thank you so much, i don't know how i could ever repay you!"

"there's no need to" you smile softly again, finally able to remove yourself from his crushing grip, you rub your aching arm and awkwardly chuckle. "i just enjoy helping others, i'm glad she's feeling better, tell her i said hi".

"will do! thank you so much!"

the guy gives one last smack on your shoulder before walking off, and chenle has to resist the urge to laugh loudly as you wince from the strong grip who had been squeezing you to death with that hug.

"are you enjoying my misery, your highness?"

chenle can barely contain his laugh as he looks over at you, being met with your deadpanned gaze. he looks down at the floor to stop his giggling, making you frown. "no, it was just too hilarious not to laugh at".

"uh huh, you're sooo funny".

though you were clearly irritated by chenle's laughing fit, you only softly smiled at him trying to hide his laughter. you reach over to take his hand once again, just playfully glaring at him. "yeah continue laughing at my suffering, we still have to make it to my mother's house".

chenle, again, gets jolted forward by a strong tug on his hand, but he doesn't say anything more, just snickers as he sees the pure dedication in your eyes. he smiles as he sees the look in your eye, you're just so adorable.

when you abruptly stop, chenle bumps into you, and your fingers slip from his, an action which makes him frown in just the slightest. he likes holding your hand, he has no idea why, but he does.

you begin digging through your bag for your house key, and chenle simply watches, listening to you hum the tune of a song, one you always hum the tune to whenever you find yourself bored. "here" you whisper, victorious in your search for your keys. you quickly unlock the door and gesture for chenle to follow you in with nothing but the tilt of your head, he silently steps into your childhood home, a comforting feeling in the air as he closes the door behind him.

while you drop your bag onto a nearby table and begin looking through it again, chenle slowly removes the cloak he had been wearing as he observes his surroundings.

the place is nice, small, but nice. it has a comfortable sort of air that makes chenle want to immediately relax, it's not the fanciest place, or the biggest place, but it's a home, a comfortable, quiet home. chenle would love to live here, maybe in another life, a life where he doesn't end up born into a highly respected royal family, he just gets to live like this, it's a place that seems to bring a feeling of solace.

chenle glances over at you, your eyebrows furrowed as you continue going through your bag. you seem to sense his eyes, because you glance up at him and you meet his eyes. you blink, then glance over at a door across the room. "you can go see her if you want".

chenle awkwardly chuckles as he glances at the door your eyes were on, he then glances back at you. "i— can you come with me?"

chenle just wants to stay around you.

you stare puzzled for a moment, but you don't question it, you leave your bag alone and gesture for chenle to follow you to your mother's room. chenle stays silent the whole way there, noticing the way your mood changes as you step closer to the door.

you knock on the door. "mom?"

when you open the door, you peak your head through, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you hear her say something. "yes yes i know, i'll remember to tell her, i brought a guest".

chenle slowly peaks from behind you, giving your mother a small smile. "hello" he greets softly.

your mother gasps, sitting up in her bed. "zhong chenle?"

chenle lightly chuckles, looking down at the floor, you nudge him with your shoulder. "oh my goodness, you've grown so much! come here give me a hug!"

chenle is almost surprised, he was afraid she was going to have a bad reaction to his presence, but she was much more excited to see him than he thought she would be. you push chenle into her room, motioning for him to fulfill your mothers wish.

she quickly wrapped her arms around him when he got close enough to her. her hugs are still as warm as he remembers, he almost wants to hug her forever and never let go. "how are things going these days? i wanted to go to that little parade of yours but y/n forbid me from doing so!"

"because you were vomiting all morning, i wasn't going to risk it".

she pulls away from the hug to grab both of chenle's hand, smiling softly at him. the smile reminiscent of the smiles she would share with him in the hallways of the palace when she used to work there. "you always worry so much" she raises an eyebrow at you before turning back to chenle. "how have you been these days?"

chenle smiles at her, noticing you leave the room, but too focused on answering the question from your mother to follow you. "i've been good, just a little stressed from everything happening lately".

her eyes widen again, and she nods excessively. "right! your getting married soon! how are you feeling about the whole thing?"

chenle's face falls just a little bit, but he quickly reverts back to a smile, not wanting to worry her with a random frown crossing his face. "it's all.. new, it'll take some time to get used to but i know i can get through it".

the older woman smiles at him, seemingly liking those words. "that's good, i'm glad you're still friends with y/n, he missed you".

chenle blinks, the words surprising him. "he missed me?"

your mother chuckles at the question. "yes he did, i remember watching the two of you run around the castle together as children, i was afraid the friendship wouldn't last, when i first resigned, y/n said he feared you two would drift apart".

chenle almost gasps at the information he receives. were you really worried about that? for the longest time he felt like such a bad friend because he began having no time for you as the two of you grew up, yeah that's what happens as people get older but he'd always see the flash of disappointment in your eyes when he had to be dragged away for another stupid royal meeting.

"i didn't know he felt that way, it's getting much more difficult to get him alone with everything going on".

"i heard you two are beginning to talk more, he always comes to me so giddy about it these days".

chenle is again surprised by the information he hears, a small laugh of disbelief escapes his lips at the words. "really?"

"yeah, he came freaking out over you two talking about books, books! you make him so happy, chenle".

the words strike chenle like a slap in the face, it's just so shocking to him he stands with his mouth agape for much longer than he'd like to admit. his face burns at the fact, at the idea that pops into his brain.

the idea that you might feel the same.. that you might reciprocate his feelings.

he swears smoke is going to begin pouring out of his ears from how heated his face has become.

"i'm glad i could do that, y/n is truly a blessing, i don't know what i'd do without him".

chenle thinks those must've been his truest words today, a look into what's really going on in his head, a look into how he really feels.

god it's always with you isn't it?

"it was nice seeing you again, mrs. l/n, i'm glad your recovering well".

at the word 'recovering', the older woman suddenly tenses, an anxious look in her eye as she looks away from the crown prince. "right, yes, thank you for visiting, chenle, it was nice seeing you too".

chenle smiles at your mother, nodding. "i'll leave you be now".

chenle slips his hands from hers, smiling one more time before leaving her room, gently closing the door behind him. he turns around and looks over at you, your still rummaging through your back, but chenle can tell you aren't looking for something, you seem to be trying to distract yourself.

"y/n?" chenle calls out, seemingly against his own will, because he's surprised by the sound of his own voice. you simply hum in response, not wanting to look him in the eye for some unknown reason. he quickly makes his way over to you, standing beside you and accidentally bumping your shoulders.

"is she really sick? i mean she looks fine! much finer than any sick people i've seen—"

"it's her kidneys".

you cut into chenle's sentence with a shaky tone of voice, you look over at chenle, sighing as you see the confusion cross his face. "her kidneys are failing, chenle".

chenle feels his heart drop upon hearing that, and you look away as you see his reaction to the news. "what? but how did that even happen—"

you let out a distressed sigh, gritting your teeth and closing your eyes. "she contracted lupus, right before she took that break back a few years ago, she recovered and we thought everything was fine but then she started vomiting every other day and i couldn't figure out what was wrong so we went to a doctor outside of the kingdom and.."

you look like you're about to cry, and you take in a deep breath to blink away the oncoming tears, but you persist, not wanting to break down in front of the crown prince. "she got diagnosed with chronic kidney disease, by that point she had been suffering from it for a whole five months! and what can i do? it's.."

incurable.

the word simmers into the air, it's unsaid, but both of you know what's truly going on. your both silent, none of you saying a word as silence quickly takes over the room. chenle finally takes the initiative and glances over at you, the tears brimming in your eyes threatening to fall at any moment.

still, you don't allow for yourself to become vulnerable in front of chenle, wiping the tears that haven't fallen from your eyes. "it's a lot to try and digest at once i'm just.. i'm not ready to see her go".

chenle gets it, anyone would get it, he stays silent, afraid of not being able to do the comforting as well as you do. "i'm sorry".

"there's no need to apologize, i mean— this is just how life works!"

"i hate that it works that way" chenle responds, fathers dying eyes flash in his mind, and he bites into his bottom lip so hard that it begins bleeding. god, he hates that memory, father only passed away no less than a year ago, and the image of his lifeless face still haunts chenle in his nightmares.

"yeah, but what can i do?" your clearly trying to be positive, but it's difficult for you to. "i'm just worried that one day i'll come home and she'll be gone.. i already had to go through it with dad and now— i don't know how i'll deal with it".

chenle stares at you, a small smile comes to your face as you glance back at him. chenle wants to cry just seeing you try to hold back your own tears, so he looks away from you quickly.

he then looks back at you, moving closer to you and taking your hand. "if you ever need someone to talk to, to vent to, to— yell and cry at.. i'm here".

you chuckle at the words, tears again welling up in your eyes. chenle feels you squeeze his hand, and he smiles softly at the sight of you. "really? you'll listen to my stupid ramblings?"

"yeah" chenle responds, nodding a little bit too enthusiastically, but he doesn't care. "i will, your feelings are just as important as mine, and you're my friend, it's what friends do".

you squeeze his hand, laughing softly again as you let a small tear slip down your face. "thank you, chenle".

"it's no problem, y/n".

CHENLE IS GENUINELY GOING INSANE, AND ITS ALL because of you. he can't focus on anything but you, and it's literally driving him crazy. he has never, never in his 21 years of living on this earth ever felt so much for just one person, what is it with you? he can't even think about you without his face turning a bright shade of red, his palms easily get sweaty and his words become nothing but a jumbled mess.

chenle finds it hilarious, how he was raised to be poised and proper, never swear, never talk when you don't have to, never interrupt others, sit like this sit like that, speak like this, speak like that, but right now, he's acting like a psycho more than anything.

he's pacing around his room like he just lost his mind or something, completely distracted from everything else as his mind is focused on you and you only.

he must look crazy, hair messy, clothes in disarray, pacing back and forth as he tries to figure out if feeling like this is normal, or even allowed here.

"chenle? could you explain to me why your mother wants— oh dear".

kun walks in midway through chenle's strange breakdown thingy, and the younger isn't even paying attention to him because he's screaming into the pillow on his king sized bed. the older watches in concern, and the breath chenle lets out is a mix of weary and frustrated. "chenle? what's wrong?"

kun drops the clipboard he'd previously been holding to rush over to the younger's side, if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can see tears welling up in chenle's eyes. "chenle.."

chenle sniffles, looking down at the pillow in his lap. "i'm in love with him, kun".

kun blinks, dumbfounded. "with who?"

"with y/n! i can't— oh my god i'm so stupid!" the crown prince grabs his pillow again and lets out a well needed scream of agony, a scream that makes kun sigh as he stares at the sight before him. "i don't get it! why does he make me feel like this!? everything is so complicated and i can't even do anything about it because i get married in two months—!"

"okay okay, calm down" kun is quick to cut in, pressing a quick thumb to his cheek to wipe away the tears. "take a deep breath, talk coherently".

chenle sniffles again, taking in another breath and then exhaling, collecting himself as he tries his best to think coherently. "i don't know, kun, it's all getting to my head, i want him so bad yet i can't have him".

and just the fact makes chenle stomach drop, he wants to start sobbing once again, but he contains his tears. "it's stupid i know—"

"it's not stupid, chenle, it's totally fine to have complicated feelings about things, and people, but you'll never have closure if you don't tell him how you feel".

"but what's the point, kun?" chenle doesn't see why it would matter anyway, what would you even do when he told you how he felt? would you grimace and push him away? would you accept his confession? what would you do? it's all he can think about. "what difference does it make?"

"it gets the pressure off your back.. and, if it's any consolation for you, both you and y/n can finally come to terms with your feelings".

chenle's eyes widen at the words, they settle a new emotion on him he can't exactly explain. "what the hell do you mean by that?"

"language, your highness" kun jokingly reprimands, his tone reminiscent of his mothers scoldings whenever chenle would mess up the garden of roses on occasions. "y/n might've.. told me some things, but you'll have to ask him about that".

"that isn't fair!"

"it is! you have to ask him yourself, it's the only way to get yourself in order!"

chenle deadpans at his older friend, but kun just snickers at his expression, lightly shoving his shoulder. "don't look at me like that, you know i'm right".

chenle would roll his eyes, but kun does have a point. "maybe i'll listen to you.."

"you should".

chenle has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at that response too.

CHENLE THINKS YOU LOOK EXCEPTIONALLY PRETTY when you read. it's not that you're not usually exceptionally pretty, it's just that he enjoys admiring your profile as you read, eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, lips occasionally parting in shock, he could stare for hours. he might look creepy on a few certain occasions, but you rarely ever notice.

chenle doesn't know how many times the two of you have been up together late in the night, just sitting in the library talking about literature. he doesn't even remember what your talking about most of the time, but he loves talking to you about bullshit pertaining to the books your both into.

for the both of you, books are sort of an escape in a way. chenle enjoys indulging himself in worlds of fiction to distract himself from his mess of a life, and you enjoy indulging yourself in messy love stories with terrible endings to distract yourself from your own issues in life.

it's all truly a coping mechanism for you two.

you both are a coping mechanism for each other, chenle finds it all simpler around you, and you feel as if you don't have to be so professional around him anymore.

chenle doesn't sleep much these days, but that's because he's spending most of his nights in the library with you. he likes listening to you talk, the way you simply piece together your words is amazing.

"and it was so sad! i cried my eyes out for weeks after reading that!"

chenle snickers at your whining, and you caress the material of the book in your hands. "i mean.. the book is literally called, they both die in the end".

"i know! i know! but that doesn't mean it's still not sad" you frown, recalling the ending of the book you were rambling about.

you quickly stop your pouting and make your way over to another part of the library, the section including romance books. chenle doesn't follow you, but his eyes surely do, he makes sure to keep them trained on you, as if you'd disappear if he even looked away from you for just a moment.

"do you want any more recommendations? or..?"

"oh, no no no" chenle shakes his head. "i just—" he pauses, having no idea how to say the words without sounding like some weirdo who totally has a crush on you.

well he is a weirdo who totally has a crush on you, how hypocritical.

"i like listening to you talk".

you blink at his words, noticeably flustered at the way they came out. chenle takes your silence as you judging him, so he's quick to chuckle awkwardly and begin waving dismissing hands. "i didn't mean to say that i know it was weird and stuff—!"

"no no! it wasn't weird i'm just.. i'm not used to being told things like that, you're so unique with your words and i never know how to respond to them".

"oh.."

"yeah".

you click your tongue, and chenle simply stares. oh you affect him so much without doing anything, what is up with you? his ears are burning, he might collapse at the very moment.

what was that kun said again? you'll never get any closure if you don't just tell him how you feel. yeah, he isn't sure if he'll be able to do it.

"can i show you something?"

chenle's breath hitches against his will, he has no idea why he's nervous, why the hell is he nervous? it's just you, it's you, his friend since he was a child, his oldest friend, you probably know him better than he thinks you do.

you wouldn't do anything bad.

"is it terrible?" he raises an eyebrow, and you laugh. your laughter is pretty, so pretty. "well? is it?"

"no, just come here" you beckon chenle over to you with your hand, a hand he almost shies away from, but he can't shy away from you, so he steps closer, following you. he feels like a mind controlled puppet, your a magnet attracting him closer and closer until he presses into you.

you smile as you see chenle in your peripheral vision, your fiddling with something in your fingers. chenle furrows his eyebrows, having no idea what it is, he tries to look over your shoulder, but you quickly block his eyesight, much to his own dismay. "why are you hiding?"

"i'm not hiding! be patient, your highness".

your teasing tone of voice doesn't make it past chenle, but he doesn't stay anything, just keeps his mouth shut. you hum as you turn back to chenle, still fiddling with your fingers as you smile at the crown prince, who is puzzled by what you're doing exactly.

you then open your palm, extending it forward towards chenle, and his eyes widen at what he sees.

"what is..?"

"we— um.. remember that friendship bracelet i made for you when we were ten? the one you broke?"

chenle laughs lightly, his face burning. "yes i remember.."

"well, i kept mine, and because were.. you know, friends again, i remade it for you, if you want it of course!"

chenle stares at you, then he stares at the bracelet in your hand, and he can't resist the urge to smile. you're absolutely adorable, sweet, chenle really really really likes you. his silence makes you anxious, and you want to begin picking your fingers until they bleed.

chenle must realize it, because he immediately laughs, a hearty laugh, a lovely laugh. "y/n, i love it, it's so.. cute i can't— how long did it take you to make this?"

"well i was thinking about it for a while and i just barely finished this last night i just.. i don't know, i missed you, a lot" you say, your words a vomit of adoration, oh you're so adorable. "it was a brash decision really".

"you're so—"—cute—"sweet, really".

you again step closer to chenle, silently asking to have his wrist with the extension of your hand. he doesn't even think before placing his hand into yours, allowing for you to slip the bracelet onto his wrist. it fits perfectly. of course it does, chenle can barely stifle his giggle.

he feels so giddy.

you don't let go of his hand, and chenle doesn't move his hand either. he stares at the indirect act of affection, his hand gently placed upon your palm, a palm that you aren't moving. what are you two doing? what the hell is going on?

"y/n" chenle calls out, his voice barely elevated as he avoids eye contact with you. "what is.. what are we doing?"

"i don't know" you mutter, blinking. you don't even think before taking your free hand and intertwining it with chenle's other free hand, now your holding both of his hands, an action that has chenle's face reddening to amazing heights. "your hands are warm".

chenle simply looks away, basking in the feeling of your fingers laced with his. he likes holding your hand, it just feels right, your fingers intertwined with his, your hands placed on his.

"yours are cold".

the words are nothing but your observations of each other whispered into the air. it's a strangely intimate moment, you two are just staring at each other in the library, your short breaths can be heard in the silence of the huge room around you.

you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, then stare at chenle's. chenle blinks, he sees you, he sees what you're doing, but it doesn't seem like you're trying to be slick, you don't care, you are unashamed in your decision.

he isn't really sure how to feel about that.

you lean closer, much closer than chenle thinks he could ever handle. you give a small smile, and chenle wants to faint. he's holding your hands, your leaning close to him, and you look you want to kiss him.

and he wants to kiss you.

oh he wants to do it so bad.

"may i?" you ask, but you aren't looking chenle in the eyes, your staring directly at his lips. chenle almost chokes on his spit, are you really asking him if you can kiss him? do you really like him as much as he likes you? is he dreaming?

he stares like an idiot for so long that he almost looks frozen.

chenle nods wordlessly, but that's not good enough of an answer for you.

"verbal consent, chenle".

chenle wants to pull you into a kiss by force right now.

"yes! yes, you may".

you note his enthusiasm, enthusiasm that makes his face redden, he looks away from you, clearly embarrassed.

you chuckle silently, letting go of his left hand to take his jaw and turn him back towards you. then, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.

it's short, sweet, and ends in pretty much two seconds.

your cheeks are dusted red, and you immediately look away from chenle upon finishing your action. "that was stupid, right? i'm sorry! i don't know why i did that i jus—"

chenle doesn't let you finish, he grabs the back of your neck and smashes your lips together. you let out a small squeak of surprise, clearly not expecting the action, but you quickly relax into the kiss, sighing softly as you let an arm wrap around his waist, pulling him closer with your hand on his back.

it's.. nice, it feels right, chenle is relaxed. his heart isn't pounding uncomfortably, he doesn't feel that anxious pit in his stomach, his chest isn't tight, he feels like he can breath (ironic, really), and he doesn't want to burst into tears at his circumstances.

he feels good, he feels content.

god, it's always with you isn't it?

"wait wait, hold on" you pull away for air, pressing your forehead against chenle's as you gather your words. you chuckle awkwardly, looking down at the floor instead of at the crown prince in front of you. "sorry, i don't know how to feel about this".

chenle blinks up at you, and all you can see are his pretty eyes staring at you. you fumble through your speech, trying your best to be coherent even with the way he was staring. "i'm just.. i don't know, i have to check up on my heart levels and shit—"

chenle gasps loudly. "language, y/nie".

"you can't just say that after you literally took away my breath you.." you stop in your speech, snickering at the way you're acting, the red on your cheeks doesn't disappear, but chenle thinks he likes it that way.

"y/n" you look up as chenle calls your name again, now completely focused on him. "i.. i don't really know how to say this but i— i like you, okay? like a lot, not even just that i'm in love with you! it's.. complicated".

wow, so much for a smooth confession, chenle.

chenle narrows his eyes at the voice in his mind, it sounds like.. you?

you freeze at the confession, your whole body paralyzed as you try your best to process the words in your head.

"oh".

chenle can't tell how you feel by your tone of voice, but to him, it doesn't sound good.

CHENLE USED TO BE AFRAID OF ASKING HIS FATHER certain questions. he was unpredictable in the sense that chenle never knew how he'd react if he asked him a question as simple as what 1+1 was. when father was alive, chenle feared him, not because he was physically violent or anything, but because he was intimidating. the air temperature would lower whenever he stepped into the room, and the way his voice boomed when he talked was enough to have chenle shivering for weeks.

"father, may i ask you a question?"

"is it a stupid question?"

at thirteen years old, chenle was still as fearful of his father as he was back when he was seven, and he almost wanted to cry the moment his father responded to his question with another question. he swallowed his own spit, a feeling of anxiety immediately settling onto him. "well— i'm not sure.."

his fathers shoulders relaxed, and he hummed. "what is it, chenle?"

"why do i have to get married?"

the question was much more abrupt than chenle wanted it to be, and he clamped his mouth shut as soon as the words escaped his lips. his father stayed silent at the question, which didn't lessen his worries, it worried him much more than it should've.

his father then chuckled, he chuckled, and chenle almost let out a gasp upon seeing the sight. when was the last time he'd seen that happen? the sight was truly one to behold, he was amused, amused!!

"why are you so curious about that? you're way too young to be interested in stuff like marriage".

"i'm not that interested i just— i heard mother say something about it and i.. i don't know! i just want an answer".

his father turned back to him, an unintelligible expression on his face that chenle still doesn't understand even to this day. "let me ask you a question, chenle, do you want to get married?"

the question struck chenle as odd, but judging by his father's smile in the moment, the question was very much needed. the thirteen year old prince blinked, puzzled, but he didn't let the question linger in the air for too long, afraid of upsetting his father with his silence.

"maybe, in the future, when the time is right, with someone who i like, and know is a good.. person to me".

"person?"

chenle nodded, wordless as he tried his best not to shrink under his father's gaze.

"ah, i see".

chenle had no idea where he was trying to go with that question and statement.

"what kind of person?"

chenle was once again speechless at the question, he allowed for his eyes to roam around the room as he scoured his brain for an answer to his father's question. then, he spotted his answer, it was you, giggling with kun about a dumb joke as your mother rummaged through her work bag for something.

you caught his eye in the moment, smiling the sight of him as you waved, mouthing a small hi from where you were across the room.

chenle giggled at the sight, waving as well as he returned your greeting.

unfortunately for him, father noticed everything.

"oh? someone like y/n?"

chenle immediately snapped his head towards his father, beginning to sputter at the assertion from him. "y/n? what do you mean by that?"

his father merely glanced over at you, his lips unconsciously quirking up into a smile. "you seem to like y/n, the two of you are friends right?"

"yes, yeah we are".

"huh" his father clicked his tongue. "if you ever do get to decide who you want to marry in the future, let it be someone like him".

chenle choked on his spit, he had no idea how to respond to that. the words have stuck with him forever, even after father's death, even after his marriage to yinuo was confirmed, the words ring in his head whenever chenle does as much as look at you anymore.

it's been a week, a week, a whole entire seven days, and you have been avoiding chenle like the plague. literally. you see him in the halls and make a break for the nearest door, you catch his eyes randomly and you immediately look away. you don't smile, you don't stop to make small talk, you just turn your back and run away.

did he do something wrong? did you really not return his feelings? (no! that can't be true! why would you kiss him back if you didn't feel at least something for him?). chenle has no idea why you're suddenly avoiding him, but you are, and he has to figure out why.

so, when chenle finishes having a totally fun conversation with his mother, he makes a beeline towards your office, he knows your there, because you aren't anywhere else during the day usually. you don't visit your mother on tuesdays, chenle knows that very well.

he stops in front of the door of your office, a sudden anxious feeling taking over him. he raises his fist to knock, but then lets it fall, he instead turns the knob and opens the door to your office.

you don't perk up immediately at the sound of the door opening, mainly because your back is turned and your focused on cleaning up a rubbing alcohol spill. chenle doesn't say anything, the silence in the room practically swallowing him whole.

you still don't look back, simply humming. "did you leave something here, kun? are you going to nag me about cuts again?"

chenle keeps silent.

when you finally do turn back to look at chenle, expecting kun, you pause, an unreadable expression crossing your face. you clear your throat, smiling awkwardly as you tucked your hair behind your ear. "hi, your highness".

chenle's jaw clenches, what's with the sudden switch up? why aren't you calling him by his name anymore?

"hi, y/n".

another uncomfortable silence takes over the room, and chenle wants to die in that very moment. there's no playful banter, there's no snickering, you two aren't talking, this is one of the strangest things to ever happen to the both of you in your whole entire friendship.

you two always talk, even if it's just small talk, this random silence makes chenle anxious.

"did i do something wrong?"

judging by your reaction, that wasn't the question to ask. you simply chuckle, going back over to the spilled rubbing alcohol and finishing up with your business. "no".

"so what happened?"

"nothing happened".

"it doesn't seem that way, you've been avoiding me ever since.." chenle looks down at the floor, picking at his nails as he tries not to stare at you. "you know".

you hum, finally turning back to chenle again with the intention of making eye contact. chenle looks over at you, but not directly in your eyes, just at your face. "we can't, chenle".

"what?"

"we can't be.. we just can't, chenle".

chenle's eyebrows furrow. "you could at least elaborate on that".

"you know what i'm talking about, chenle" you grit your teeth, but you aren't frustrated by chenle, no, you seem frustrated by yourself. "you're getting married soon and i'm.. i'm nothing like you, this isn't right—"

"what makes you think that?" chenle cuts in, what is wrong with you? what the hell is wrong with you? is that really what you think? he's about to kill you. "are you embarrassed?"

"embarrassed? what? no! no! i'm literally the one who offered to kiss you i just.." you cover your face with your hand, letting a distressed groan escape your lips. "i don't want to be the reason everything goes wrong for you".

"is that really how you feel? is that really how you think i feel..?"

"chenle" you begin softly, your tone of voice making chenle's stomach flip. you close your eyes and clasping your own hands together. "i do like you too, i— love you, even, but we just can't be together".

oh. that's what it's about.

chenle sucks in a breath, he wants to shout at you, not because your making him mad, but because your right, and he knows it. he wants— no, he needs to break something, throw something against the wall in frustration, break a glass window. just anything to keep himself from having a full on mental breakdown from your very words.

"of course you would say that".

you scoff at his petty tone, but you sound more disappointed than frustrated. "your acting like i'm doing this on purpose, if things were different then maybe—"

"why can't we make it work now? huh? why does it have to be if things were different?"

"because you're getting married chenle! you— you're going to become king and i don't want to hold this over your head".

"you're so.. stupid! how is that all you've gotten from this situation?" now chenle is getting desperate, he wants you to change your mind, even if he knows it's unlikely that will actually ever happen. "you're not holding anything over my head and you're not going to make anything go wrong, i don't get it!"

"i'm being realistic.."

"how is that realistic?"

"because it's better than potentially losing my job! chenle! i have to take care of my mother, i can't afford to risk my position because someone thinks you're cheating on your fiancée with me".

your words sting, but they don't sting chenle, they sting you. your chest hurts, so you simply shake your head, sighing in defeat. your arms drop to your side and you turn away from chenle, gritting your teeth.

all chenle can do is give you a look of sympathy. "y/n—"

"chenle, leave it alone" you snap, yet you don't come off as annoyed, more upset. "i'd prefer if you'd leave".

you really just need to think, you just need to peacefully gather your thoughts without chenle in the room.

chenle wants to argue with you, to walk forward and take you by your arm, to grab you by your face and kiss you senselessly whilst telling you that he doesn't care about what anyone thinks.

but chenle obeys your wish, turning around and leaving the room.

KUN KNOWS CHENLE ALL TOO WELL AT THIS point that the younger is convinced that he's a mind reader. from his narrowed eyes to his silent snickers, he can always tell what chenle's feeling before chenle himself even does. back when they were younger, chenle assumed kun had to be some sort of supernatural being, possessing some kind of telepathic power or something, but as he's grown up, he realizes the older is just that observent.

case in point: chenle's current attitude.

"why do you keep sulking? they teach you not to do that at like.. age ten?"

kun's comment doesn't receive it's usual rebuttal from chenle, it simply gets silence, silence that kun hums at. he resists the urge to roll his eyes, standing beside the stubborn crown prince. "okay, tell me what happened".

"what?"

"there's no use in pretending that you don't know what i'm talking about, chenle, what happened?"

kun has always been assertive in this sense, chenle finds his power to be absolutely shocking. maybe, in another universe, their roles are reversed, kun would make a better ruler than chenle ever could anyway.

"i'm an idiot, kun".

the statement results in kun letting out a strange sound, a sound of complete confusion. he then raises an eyebrow, one that makes chenle want to dig a hole and die in it forever. "what is that supposed to mean?"

chenle scowls, covering his face with his hands as he resists the urge to claw his own eyes out. he lets out a groan as your face flashes in his mind, oh he is so stupid, why couldn't he just be fearless? why does he have to be such a coward?

why couldn't he be brave for you?

"i— god, i confessed to y/n but i even managed to mess that up and now we're on bad terms.."

kun goes through seven expression changes as he processes the information. "what? what are you saying?"

"he just told me the situation like how it is" he grits his teeth, looking away from the older. "we can't be together no matter how much we want to, i'm getting married and he can't risk losing his job and.. i have to go through with the marriage".

"who says that?"

"my mother, kun" chenle sighs, feeling as if he just got punched in the gut. "i don't want to put too much on her shoulders, a marriage like this has been planned for me for who knows how long and she's clearly not her best considering father didn't pass that long ago and.." a groan leaves his lips, a sour taste in his mouth. "this will make her happy, i just want her to be happy".

kun stares in silence, clicking his tongue. "have you ever tried to prioritize your happiness?"

chenle sighs. "we're not starting this again kun—"

"no, we are going to start this again, you have to think about if you're happy before ever going through with a marriage, marriage is a legally binding thing! you're gonna be in a union with this woman until you die! are you really happy with that?"

chenle opens his mouth to speak again, but it falls shut. he can't really respond to that. 

all of his life he grew to believe that he'd eventually get used to arranged marriages and the idea of having to warm up to his partner. all royalty have to do it, it's just apart of the process. heck, chenle is the result of an arranged marriage himself, why would he ever challenge it when it was always the most likely outcome?

it's different because it's you. chenle can't possibly think about going through this marriage at all now that he's realized how he truly feels for you, it's not right, he shouldn't, he can't.

you're a terrible liar, chenle. at the end of the day, you will go through with this marriage, it's all too risky to not.

"i.. no, i'm not" chenle finally responds, his voice a mix of disgusted and frustrated. "i just— i always thought it was supposed to be this way, i don't want to just.. do it differently".

"well why not?"

"because this is for the good of my future, for yinuo, for my mother, to test if i can live up to the ruler my father was".

chenle bites his inner cheek, suddenly feeling nauseous. he closes his eyes, not wanting to face kun's gaze.

the older simply sighs. "i can't make you do anything you don't want to, chenle, but don't make a decision you know is going to leave you unhappy, i'd hate for you to be stuck in an uncomfortable position for the rest of your life".

and with that, kun turns and walks out of the room. chenle doesn't open his eyes until he knows kun has left the room.

the words ring in his head all day.

WHEN CHENLE WAS ELEVEN, YOU TAUGHT HIM about the several constellations that appear in the night sky. you taught him their names, how they form, what they represented, and your thoughts on them. you always had a thing for those luminous balls of gas in the sky, something about them always left you so intrigued, waiting for the next time they would show up so you could drag chenle out in the middle of the night to see them with you.

tonight, andromeda is in the sky.

it's never been a favorite of yours, more one of chenle's favorites, but he knows you'll be outside, staring at the aligned stars in the sky. he takes kun's words into account, and wishes his mother a good night before turning on his heel to make his way towards a familiar place of comfort.

the rose garden, of course.

the best thing about the rose garden is that it has the cool glass roof you can see the sky through. it was an addition that was only made a few years ago, one last hurrah for mrs. qian before her eventual retirement.

chenle spent a lot of time reading about constellations, all the information he learned he would relay to you. he loved seeing how interested you were in the information you already didn't know, your eyes would widen comically and then they would light up.

constellations have always been special to me, you told chenle once. they remind me of dad, he's the one who taught me about them, i like to think that he's now become apart of cygnus.

chenle was surprised by your way of grieving, but he couldn't exactly blame you. you liked to think your father became one with the stars, and you'd always be especially excited when cygnus appeared in the sky.

when chenle steps into the rose garden, he isn't surprised to see you already there, lips parted in surprise as you stare up at the sky through the glass rooftop. you don't notice him immediately, but when you do, you smile. "hi".

chenle bites down on his bottom lip, but he steps forward anyway. "hi".

you put your head down, then turn to chenle with an unreadable expression on your face. "i missed you".

chenle allows for himself to lightly chuckle at the fact. "you're the one whose been ignoring me all this time".

your shoulder slump, a small sigh leaving your lips as you rock back and forth on your heels. "i do realize that was pretty.. rude of me, i just needed time to think, i was probably going to have a breakdown if i didn't collect my thoughts".

chenle nods, pressing his lips together in a thin line. an uncomfortable silence passes through the air in the room, and you glance up again to examine andromeda once again.

"i'm sorry".

you snap your head over at chenle. "for what?"

"for yelling, and for calling you stupid" chenle looks away from you, ashamed of himself. "you were just being realistic and i was.. i wasn't thinking clearly, like an idiot".

"don't say that" your voice is so soft, it probably feels like clouds. "i get where you're coming from, just saying those words made me sick.." you pinch the bridge of her nose, and chenle can't stop his head from turning so that he can stare at you. oh your side profile is so pretty, chenle could admire it for hours. "i'm sorry, chenle, you probably felt like your feelings didn't matter in the moment and that was so terrible of me to do, romantic feelings or not, you're my friend, and i care about how you feel, i shouldn't have dismissed you like that".

chenle can't resist the urge to smile, his lips turn up much too quickly, but of course they do, because it's you, it's always with you. chenle has never felt such a way for another human being in his life, but he guesses your whole relationship must've been planned by the universe or something.

"you're so.. stupid" chenle reiterates, but it's said much more affectionately than the last time. "you have always considered my feelings, you are literally one of the sweetest people i know, don't apologize for thinking about yourself for once, your job is much more important than our.. relationship thing".

you pause at the words, shaking your head as a small snicker falls from your lips. "i love you, chenle".

oh.

if chenle didn't have any self control, he would've done a trust fall right then and there. he wants to faint onto the floor and never get up. hearing the words from you makes him exceptionally giddy, you make him happy, you make him so happy, oh chenle is so glad to have you in his life.

happy ending or not, at least he finally knows what you feel for him.

"i love you too" he whispers, his voice getting stuck in his throat, the shock doesn't wear off that quickly, unfortunately. you reach over for his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. it feels so right, chenle could just be like this forever, and everything would be fine.

as long as he's with you, everything will be fine.

you hum at the response, a red color dusting your cheeks. you could just barely stifle your giggle, and it's simply amazing to chenle. you're just as giddy about him as he is about you.

oh chenle loves you so much.

you look up at the sky once again, eyes lighting up at the sight of the aligned stars. "andromeda has always been your favorite, right?"

chenle wants to faint, you remembered. "yeah".

you smile, your smile is beautiful.

you're a desperate man, zhong chenle.

he can't exactly disagree with that.

"you have good taste".

"you flatter me too much".

you finally looks back down, snickering as you squeeze chenle's hands. you lean forward and press a kiss to chenle's lips, it's simply a peck, but chenle loves it. "you deserve it".

chenle wants to squeal like a teenage girl with a crush, you're so cute, you're so adorable, he loves you, he loves you so much.

maybe you can't make it work now, not in this universe at least, but there could be another universe, another timeline where it does work, where it doesn't have to end like this.

chenle is upset it can't be this universe, but this is just how life works. knowing that he can't change his fate, knowing that he will go through with this marriage, knowing that he probably has no true shot with you is all upsetting, but he'll learn how to deal with it, at least you're still by his side.

at least your still in his life, he's grateful for that.

and when he sees you giggle once again, his heart warms. as long as you're happy, that's all that matters.

[triz-costa]

Young Royals Fic Recs

YOUNG ROYALS (AO3)

5 times the students of Hillerska didn’t realize Wille and Simon were together + 1 time they definitely did by Piebingo/@piebingo

"5 times the students of Hillerska didn't realize Wille and Simon were together + 1 time they definitely did"

It’s not punishment (but why does it feel like it is) by starvalisedham (Chapters 5/6)

"three times crown prince Wilhelm did his duty, two times he refused, and one time where duty gave way for privilege. a.k.a. five times Wilhelm struggled to balance his duty as future monarch with his personal life, and the one time he learned to accept his lot in life (it helps that Simon has been there the entire time, helping him along) or: that ridiculously ham-handed fic where Hillerska students are constantly baffled by the dynamic between our two lovebirds"

Two Princes for the Price of One by Safr2n (Erik lives)

"Wilhelm spending time with Simon in Bjärstad leads to Erik discovering who his "crush" is. Turns out it comes in handy when he outs himself in front of the boys of Forest Bridge to defend Simon."

We’re In This Together by CaithyCat (Erik lives)

"Wilhelm and Simon try to cope with the aftermath of the video. Erik does everything he can to help."

Brothers, Brownies, and Brevity by NerdGirl07 (Erik lives)

"Written for the young royals secret santa exchange 2021 for the prompt: Erik lives! I'd love to see how the relationship between Erik and Simon could have been, if Erik had been alive. Erik being a great big brother, supporting Wilhelm and guiding him. Get ready for Erik being the greatest big brother ever, a dessert tower, a demonstration from the Hilerska rowing team, and an act of bravery."

You’re Simply the Best by cloudymilk (Chapters 27/27) (Erik lives)

“Hey Little brother,” Erik greeted. “Excited for your romantic rendezvous?” “Shut up,” Wille groaned, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Just making sure you didn’t chicken out,” Erik laughed. “Since August seems to be under the impression that you are coming home this weekend.” “Fucking August,” Wille muttered. “He’s staying back and I just- didn’t want to deal with him.” “So if you’re not staying there, and you’re not coming here…” Erik began, pausing for Willie to answer and giving another laugh when Wille didn’t fill in the blanks. “Pray tell Wilhelm, where exactly is my little brother spending the weekend? I thought your crush went to Hillerska?” or Erik lives"

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings by cloudymilk

"He’d always known Simon was beautiful, to him, it was a universal constant. But now, getting to see him in person, looking up at Wille so openly - eagerly - he was radiant. Following Wille's speech, he and Simon finally get some time alone together. Post S2 E6"

If hurting wounds would mend (never left that place inside my head) by Lire_Casander (Chapters 36/36)

"when a car accident when coming back to the palace after the last day of the term ends up with wilhelm in a coma, there’s a fracture in time. wilhelm’s subconscious provides him with a whole, happy life where he gets to be with simon and erik never died. meanwhile, in the real world, queen kristina is faced with an impossible decision about family, duty and love. what will happen when both worlds - wilhelm’s dream world and the real world - clash together?"

Get it off your chest, get it off my desk by cloudymilk

"Vincent hasn’t called him to stand since the time with Felice, although there have been multiple nights where Simon has slept over. He supposes that while one can assume, it’s not actually evident that he and Simon had sex during those times (even though they definitely have). There was no mistaking the way they’d left early the night before, however. No mistaking the darkened bruise on Wille’s neck. They’ve already received some smirks from the boys around them, cheekily asking them if they’d had a goodnight."

Ace of Hearts by Whiterabbit11 (Chapters 6/6)

"Eventually, Kristina realises that Wille is a mama's boy. An outsider POV of Wille and Simon through their years at Hillerska."

Yes, Your Highness by Osseus (Part 1)

"Simon is still as sure as he ever was that there is no need to have a Queen, or a King, or anything of the sort, but there is the slight problem—that the crown prince is fucking hot and there is a part of Simon that truly does want to worship the boy, get on his knees and let him use that power that was so unceremoniously given to him on Simon, for Simon. So yeah, maybe he has taken his ‘fuck the monarchy’ stance a bit too seriously. Simon maybe gets off on using Willes title and Wille gets off on Simon using it, that's it, that's the fic."

Kneel by Osseus (Part 2)

"Getting hit with the full force of the prince’s attention is addicting and Simon absolutely loves that he is the only person who gets that Wille, everyone gets the Crown Prince, but he is the only one who gets to have the prince, to be wrapped in that intensity and to be had by him. And this is a problem for Simon—because every time he sees his boyfriend walking around in all of his commanding, silently demanding, princely glory, he can’t get his mind out of the gutter. — Or, Simon is loosing his mind over how hot he finds Wille’s newfound confidence."

Undo me, unravel me by Osseus (Part 3)

"Simon can barely keep his eyes off his boyfriend, standing tall and proud under the attentive gaze of those in the room. Wille commands the space with nothing more than a cough and a gaze and it is fucking addicting watching him do it. Simon already knows that he is going to be a mess by the end of the night. — Or, Simon is obsessed with how good Wille looks when he is all dressed up and the Crown Prince knows it."

Nothing to Fear by HeartStaaahp (Chapters 35/?)

“But it was me.” A collection of different POVs taking place after season 2 of Young Royals. Basically random headcanons from what I think/hope could happen in season 3 and beyond, way into the future. Nothing but happy endings for my royal babies."

Screwed by fandom_commitment_issues (Chapters 26/26)

"Erik lived, but things are still Royally screwed up."

Love Bites by fandom_commitment_issues

"Wilhelm came out on live television a week ago. Spectacularly, and unexpectedly, and – in classic Wille fashion – stupidly. Simon gets a little handsy. The students of Hillerska are curious by nature. Or The Hickey Crack Fic no one asked for."

[the-string-of-curses]

So this is just an idea I need to get out of my brain.

The small but rich kingdom called Pur Blindé built its wall with dark magic. This was known to the world, but when the 2nd prince started the rebellion against the crown prince, it struck fear in the small kingdom.

Cale so happens to be in this kingdom and is about to be killed by the prince Claude himself. He knew that his shield would block the attack, but it did not help him in what could be seen as normal or completely new to this world.

It was new. It was new but it saved his life but that came with a price. He now has to be the new symbol of light and bring hope to Claudes people. This lead to the victory of Claude and him ascending to be the Emperor of Obelia.

This is also how Cale becomes the empress of Obelia. But this was all due to a contract to ensure his safety. The only way this contract could be broken is if Claude falls in love with someone and realizes it.

This goes on, and the empire prosper under their ruling. Cale makes sure that nothing goes on in his empire, and if you are caught, you will be severely punished. This caused the empire to be peaceful and the safest it ever been.

Cale was hailed to be the blessing from heaven above. He was given a title known to only the common people to be the only empress Obelia has had. He was the only one who took being the "mother" of the Empire seriously.

This goes on while Cale is trying to find this worlds world tree. He has got everything work out, but the only thing stopping him is the contract. That is until Claude meets Diana and falls in love with her.

But before Cale left he made sure everything was in order and gave Claude a warning.

"If you try to have a child with her, make certain that her body can handle it. Don't do something you will regret."

The next day, Cale was gone, and the contract was on top of his desk in his office. The empire was crazy for a long time. Rumors of the contract spread and hatred towards Diana was quickly rising. Then, the news of her expecting a child spread. The people protest that Diana is not fit to be nothing more than a concubine. These protests were quickly taken care of, and none dared to speak up again.

Claude made sure that Diana did not hear anything that happened outside of the palace. Then things goes as the novel but the only difference is that Claude has to choose. He can choose to forget Cale or Diana.

I really needed to get this out of my head. Again, it is not perfect or good writing. This is just me getting this idea out of my head before it drives me crazy. Not beta read, so mistakes are bound to be there.

[dangermousie]

When an episode opens this way, you know things are either go really glorious or really dark. And this drama does both. But before we plunge into horror, it gives the characters this moment of grace. I especially love when you see her hand on his back, next to the wound he got saving her.

And the voiceover, which combines the scene where they are closest with their talking about their most painful, separated time..

The way her eyes shine watching him sleep.

All that tenderness...

And that moment of grace is over as quickly as it came. JH finding out the Crown Prince is refusing to bring back captives - despite his cynicism and his experience, there is something incorrigibly naive about goodness and hope in JH. But also he got to know CP and he thought he could trust him a little. He does not know that CP cannot bring them back because the mad king views those miserable women, farmers and children as some sort of potential rebel army.

And things get worse - when JH gets them back regardless, they are ambushed and most of them are killed or wounded. People who survived captivity in enemy country, killed by their own, on orders of a paranoid madman. (I don't think anyone realized how far the King is gone - CP didn't want them back to save himself; not even he thought the King would order them massacred, and those who did not either die or make it back to China taken for torture and execution.)

The scenes of JH in the torture chambers - that vivid intelligence and strong will at the end of its rope - ouch!

The bit when he's barely conscious but still grabs her ring, my heart!!!

And I love that her ring is what saves him because she sees his slack hand drop it, when he's being taken out as one of the pile of corpses. Their love is their salvation, again.

The way she finds him (the fact she's in the palace in the first place is to look for him), the way she hides among the corpses, smearing herself with his blood, the way she brains the guard. THIS WOMAN IS EVERYTHING!!! (And I love that this time she rescues him.)

But also what a contrast that embrace at the end of the episode - on a pile of bodies, with him brutalized and dying - to the way the episode opened.

That line from Song of Solomon comes to mind: Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.

Switching gears entirely, I want to talk about the prince and king. I honestly love how upright both the prince and his wife are. She begs him to save himself and not plead for the captives (once he found out they crossed and were killed or taken to be tortured) but while he knows danger, he goes anyway.

And she goes with him. She may not care about his cause, or at least not as much as she cares about him, but she will follow him. (Seems pretty historically accurate for So Hyeon's Crown Princess and ultimately her doom.)

In an episode full of amazing scenes, my favorite is actually none of the rest of them but the scene between Crown Prince and his mad father. The way CP begs and the King cannot understand but suspects him more not just because he's paranoid but because he fundamentally cannot imagine someone caring for peasants (or for anyone not their dear self), not really. He cannot understand his son because they do not inhabit the same moral universe.

The way SH tries, tries SO HARD even as you see him realize his father is unreachable, even as he knows that jeopardizes his own life.

There is no hope there. (And the tragic thing is the King, paranoid and selfish and monstrous as he is, loves his son. He views not executing him as a kind act of love. My God!)

[yoonia]

the bedroom hymns ● chapter vii

⟶ Chapter summary | Just when you are starting to question the secret hidden behind the doors that you keep finding within the castle, your father suddenly reveals to you yet another one of his secrets. One that may change the entire course of your life should you ever try to unravel it. 

⟶Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au ⟶ Word count | 6,7k words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; mentions of war and act of assassination, usage of magic, manipulation (implied) ⟶ Story Masterlist | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

chapter vii. the secret doors

Stargrave castle. 

The castle with 1000 doors which was built right on the top of the Earthpeak cliff, the ocean edge of Nythelean Empire’s territory which is hidden beyond the Elcester Forest. You have learned a little about this castle on the morning you first arrived, under the guidance of Lord Gordan, the royal advisor working for your father, King Aneas. 

You have only been here for less than a week, and you know for sure that you still have much to learn about this castle. The place that is to become your new home. It still feels foreign to roam through the hallways, and you constantly find yourself being amazed at how expansive this place is compared to the palace you have been residing in since your childhood, even more to your old home, the summer palace which was built with the green meadows of Smotia as its heavenly sanctuary. 

No, this castle was said to be your real home. 

Your father himself had said so. This is the place where you were born. The place where you had once lived peacefully and happily with your father and mother together, before you were taken away while you were still a young, helpless child by the Queen who tragically passed not long after. This is the place that holds the old scars and the wounds that your father must have carried with him for many years until he lost the source of his happiness and why you could only rarely see him wearing his warm smile when he was at The Citadel. 

Had this been the reason why he kept you away from this place for so long?

The darkness terrifies you when you try to step out of your bedchamber in the nightfall. The long corridors feel like a maze, with numerous doors and several open galleries welcoming you whenever you get lost in your way. Oftentimes, you would only feel safe when you are in your private chamber, or when you are having your high tea with Nanny Abigail in the small garden of her new royal apartment, where you would find yourself wasting time until the sun sets each day. 

Ever since you moved into this castle, it seems that you have only grown closer with your governess and she had since become more than your confidant, and more like—a friend. Although, things didn’t start without you questioning the trust that you had given her.  

“You lied to me,” you confronted her when you finally saw her at dinner on that very first night you came to the castle, long after parting ways with her at the front of the castle. 

“I beg your pardon?” Nanny Abigail had questioned you then, acting as if she felt violated by your words, while at the same time, it didn’t seem like she was surprised that you would immediately voice your doubt the moment you found the chance to. 

“You said you’ve never been here, and yet, ever since the moment we arrived, even back when we had just come out of the forest, you didn’t seem surprised at all about this place and everything that we encountered. When we finally got to the castle, it almost seemed like you had fit in right away.” 

Nanny Abigail’s expression calmed right then and she responded merely with a shrug. “I never lied to you, Your Highness. I only said that I’ve never traveled that far from the capital, not through those woods, but I have been in this palace before.” 

Her answer only made you feel drained, as you had been getting nothing but half-truths and it seemed like nobody was truly answering your questions no matter how much you had been trying to find answers. “Don’t speak to me in riddles, I beg you. Dealing with this new place and my father’s change of behaviour is already odd enough.” 

Nanny Abigail looked at you with a remorseful smile. “I’m not trying to test you, Your Highness. I promise. You’ll understand what I’m trying to tell you pretty soon, I’m sure.” 

You had no choice but to give in, but there was something else that got you curious after knowing that she had been a part of this castle in the past. “Have you been with my mother when she left? Was that how you got to Smotia?” 

She shook her head, and for a moment, she seemed to grieve your mother. “No, I remained in this place after she took you away because I still had my family here. I only followed the King’s steps when my family joined his army, and His Majesty took me to serve the Queen at The Citadel, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to trust anyone else and her own people chose to stay away from the capital. After Her Majesty was gone, my duty was then altered to be your guardian.” She suddenly stopped right then, as talking about the Queen and the former palace staff that had once worked together with her made Nanny Abigail quite melodramatic. 

“Your mother’s personal staff had all chosen to stay and take care of the summer palace to keep her legacy, refusing to come with the King as they longed more to return to their families and homes,” —she looked up at your face, looking as if she had always known what your heart desired the most when she added, “—and I know for sure that you are not the only one longing to have your presence at the summer palace once again, as everyone staying there has continued waiting for your return.” 

Ever since that talk, hearing her speak about the summer palace and the people that had been surrounding you when you were a little child still draws your heartstrings. Even if you have yet to return to the summer palace for a long time, you have been keeping in touch with the staff there. For many years, you have been corresponding with Dutches Rue, the Queen’s lady-in-waiting who is now in charge of running the summer manor. She has been sending you letters every year on your birthdays and during the empire’s holiday, The Fest of Spirits, to send you news and pictures of the palace while asking about your life. 

That was the reason why the summer palace has remained in your heart and mind to this day. Ever since you got here, there has never been a day passed when you don’t miss your old home, the Seacrest Manor, the more you keep seeing parts of the castle that seem to resemble the summer palace that your mother built for you. But it surprises you how much you are missing your previous residence as well. Sometimes, you would often find yourself wondering about the Belcourt Pavilion and how empty the place would be without your presence. 

As days continued to progress, each time you hear the King talking about how much you would need to learn about this place, you soon realised that this palace might end up to be where you are to spend the rest of your life, and that you must soon make it your mission to make this place home. 

Surely, it wouldn’t be such a hard task to do, would it? 

Not with Lord Gordan and Nanny Abigail by your side to guide you through it. And now that the two of you are finally back at the home castle, you might also have more time to spend together with your father compared to how it used to be before at The Citadel, where he spent his waking hours dealing with the empire’s matters. That would certainly help you learn more about this place, about the home territory that you were never allowed to see, and maybe help fix the fragile bond you have had between you and your father. 

Or so you thought.

“I have to be away for at least six weeks. There are matters needed to be dealt with and it would be too taxing of a journey if you should join me,” your father suddenly announces at the end of the week of you being here. You had come to his study room after receiving his summons past breakfast, and you had come hoping that you would finally be able to have the long-needed chat about the land Far Far Away. You didn’t expect that this would be the reason why he inquired to see you. “Make this castle as your home the best you possibly can while I am away and enjoy your time here. You might need help to go around the castle in my absence, so here—”

You barely find the words to respond to him with when he suddenly grabs your hand and places a heavy set of keys right at the center of your palm.

“Here are the keys to various rooms within the castle. As you may have noticed, we have many doors right here at the home castle that have been kept locked because I am always away and you haven’t been back home, and I have been the only person within this palace who have the access to each one of them. Now, you will have the ability to open them all by using these keys without me having to be here.” 

You keep your eyes on the keys in your hand, studying them closely with pure interest as His Majesty explains this. Varied in colours, sizes, and materials, they look nothing at all like any set of keys that you would normally see for regular houses or manors. Maybe not even your old home—as you still have in your possession the keys to the gates and private doors of the Seacrest Manor which you have been holding on tightly with the hopes of returning to the summer palace—nor the main palace at the capital where the doors are always open. Your father falls silent for a moment before he continues to explain what the keys are for. His small smile is hidden under his beard while you are not paying attention to his face, but simply to his voice, as you are completely drawn to the keys in your hand.

“These are the keys to the store rooms; where I keep my best furniture and gifts from the many Kingdoms I have visited,” he says as he picks the ones made of brass from the bunch. “Make use of them as much as you need. You can also bring some of them to fancy your bedchamber should you need any changes that need to be done and make your stay more comfortable.”

Hearing this only excites you. For days, you have been thinking of how estranged you were feeling being in your new bedchamber. Despite is lavishness and the way it feels more roomy than your old bedroom back at Belcourt Pavilion, you still have yet to find comfort inside it. Surrounded by all the fancy furniture and drapes that are not yours, it has been hard to get used to the room, especially when you are left alone. You have even been wishing that you were able to take some of your old belongings to fill your room with, just for the sake of having some sense of familiarity around you. 

Perhaps by looking through the things in this store room, you would be able to find something that is more to your liking. Maybe you can find there some new things to add more colours and a homy feeling to your cold room so you can enjoy the place more and treat it as your own. 

Seeing your reaction as a genuine mix of curiosity and excitement, the King seems pleased. He has been worried about you feeling desolated and out of place when you were meant to see this place as your home. He takes it as a hopeful progress as he continues explaining to you about the keys. This time, he points out the slightly smaller looking keys which seem to be made of bronze. The material that appears similar to the one you have seen embellishing the doors lining up the hallways heading to his royal bedchamber. 

“These are the keys to the treasure rooms; where you can find all the silver and gold plates that I have gathered through my journeys, the caskets filled with jewels which are part of our family treasure, and the safe where I keep all the money which belongs to the family,” he explains, while you are left speechless at how easy he is to hand over such a huge responsibility onto you, of giving you access to his treasures. As if sensing your doubt, your father raises your chin so he can look at you straight in the eyes and say, “You are free to use them all to fill your needs, as long as you use them wisely while I am gone.” 

You swallow hard and nod. There is something in his stern voice that demands your attention, letting you know that there is an underlying threat hidden in his warning, that you have no other choice but to pledge, “I will be responsible for them, Father. I promise.” 

“Good. I have faith in you, Princess,” he says, sounding relieved but still cautious, and then he looks down at the keys to point at the pair that looks slightly bigger than the rest. “Now, this is the master key to all the private chambers, including yours and mine. You can use my room or my study should you need them. And this one will take you to the main library. I know that you love your books, and you shall find everything you may ever need to learn more about this land. Your new tutor will start with her lessons once I’m gone, so holding this key will allow you to use the library for your tutoring lessons and find all the books you need to study.” 

Hearing about the library, all of the disappointment you felt about your father being gone begins to shift, and you start feeling a semblance of hope. If you cannot earn the information that you needed from your own father, from the King himself, perhaps you would be able to find your answers among the books in the library, or the tutor who may know everything about this new world you are to learn about. You feel excited to be able to learn more about this realm, and to truly understand how your father’s empire can somehow exist between the two realms—the human realm, and the magical realm within the land Far Far Away—something that he has yet to explain despite knowing that you have been curious. 

Still with your eyes on the keys, your attention is drawn towards a pair of keys that seem to sparkle brighter from the others, calling for your attention. You look at them both with awe, amused to how magic seems to appear even in the smallest things you can find in this realm. Just like the keys you are holding in your hand. 

You study those keys closely without saying a word, marvelling on each detail. One key is made of silver, while the other from gold. Both of them are glowing brightly and are nearly humming with an enticing aura as if they are made with a special enchantment. It makes it hard for you to look away, as if you are completely drawn to them, unable to ignore their presence and their calling. 

“What about these keys, Father?” you question your father when your curiosity wins you over. 

King Aneas leans closer just to have a better look, even if it is quite obvious that he could already tell which keys you were referring to. With gentle fingers, he pulls the silver one from its bunch, which immediately gleams intensely under the lights. “This silver key will take you through the doors with the silver frames and embellishments shown on them. Those doors you may enter, but only under a few specific rules.” 

For some reason, his voice sounds ominous as he explains this. So you look at him curiously, wondering why this key demands certain rules to be followed, unlike the others. Looking at your father’s face helps only a little to reassure you, as you see a stern expression written on his face when he begins to explain,

“Within each one of the silver doors, there is a strong kind of magic. One that has been so demanding of our family’s powers, exists under my control, and it is also the type of magic that should be kept secret, no matter what. Once you go through them, you will understand why it is important for me to defend this castle and our home territory.”

As you listen to his explanation about the silver doors and the magic behind them, your curiosity grows stronger. Living in the capital of Smotia has kept you from learning anything about magic, and now that you are suddenly being thrust deeply into the place where magic seems to thrive, you feel eager to learn and experience this magical realm for yourself to understand everything better. And that curiosity strengthens even more once your father continues to give you the rules that you must follow, 

“Since you are not yet in control of your mana, then you will need to be careful and make sure that you will not lay victim to the powerful magic beyond these doors, nor the threats that may lie around you in Far Far Away. You are free to visit each of these silver door only for one visit each day, at least until you have learned and practiced about your magic. You must also make sure that you will never remain on the other side of the door of your choosing for more than six hours and you must always, always, only return home by going through that very same door you came from. Can you remember this?” 

The more you listen to his warnings, the more mysterious these doors seem to you, and the more curious you are becoming to see what is truly behind them. Suppressing your eagerness as to not make him worry, you simply nod and promise him, “Yes, I will remember,” while making sure to remember every detail, every warning, so you wouldn’t make any mistake to disappoint him in the future. 

Just as your hope of learning new magic arises, the golden key begins to vibrate in your hand, calling for your attention. Noticing where your eyes are drawn towards, the King’s expression turns grim. 

“This golden key—” he says, gently lifting the key from the bundle as he begins to speak about it, “—will allow you to open the twin doors at the end of the great gallery on the top floor of the South tower.” 

Your eyes grow wide with interest, recalling the day you first arrived at the castle and how the same golden doors in the South tower seemed to be calling your name. You have never once told anyone about what you had encountered that day, nor the fact that you have found your way to that private gallery that your father would resign into after his long trips. And now that he mentioned it, you feel the curiosity about them building stronger, your eagerness to venture to the hidden parts of the castle rising, only to deflate when your father says,

“This one, I must forbid you to use.”

You stifle a gasp and question him. “But why, Father?” 

King Aneas’ expression grows even darker once he takes notice of your interest of the golden doors. He gently places both of his hands on your shoulders before you can question him more. “Never open the golden doors. Never walk past it, and never look what is inside,” he demands with a voice that comes out as a warning, before he softens and begs you, “Princess, I need you to promise me. One day, I will explain everything. But you are not ready. Not yet. So please promise me that you will listen and wait until it’s time.” 

Once again, you are left speechless. You are completely baffled at his demands, yet his voice leaves you no chance to argue that you can only give in and say, “Yes, I promise.”

The King remains silent for a brief moment, as if he is trying to read your thoughts, wondering if you are hiding any intentions of defying him. But then the King exhales a deep, resigning sigh, and lets you go with a reassuring nod.  

“Good. Make sure to never forget this. Oh, and there is one more thing that you must always remember,” he quickly adds before you can say anything. “You are free to roam about through these doors — of course, except for the golden doors — but you are not to leave this castle by stepping out through the great door at the front gate. Not when I am not around, and never without a guard. Until this situation is cleared and everything settles down, you need to remain within this castle, and only use the doors I mentioned to keep yourself busy until I return.” 

You find this instruction quite odd. Just as odd as his rules and warnings regarding the magic doors, but you dare not to question him, understanding how little your knowledge of magic is to begin with to help you argue against his demands. So you put all of your curiosity aside, choosing to gain his trust and confidence as you promise him, 

“I’ll remember.”

The King nods his approval. “Then I shall take my leave. I trust that you will find a way to enjoy your stay and make this place your home, just how it is supposed to be.” 

King Aneas simply gives you a smile after his parting words, leaving you behind with your thoughts running wild and the keys growing heavier against your grip. You watch your father as he departs, joined by his royal guards who had been waiting right outside of the room while he was speaking to you. And once you are left alone, your thoughts become the loudest and you start hearing voices coming from the back of your mind. Voices that you have been trying to ignore since the day you learned about this castle and its odd-looking doors. 

Voices reminding you about the dark tale. 

“He was a man with many riches and many estates which he owns in various places to see. In his estate, there were hundreds of doors, many of them that were locked, many that held his deep and darkest secrets, and doors that would be forbidden for you to enter.” 

There is an uneasy feeling in your chest whenever you are holding the bundle of keys that your father left you with in your hands. 

As much as you try to deny it, there is no stopping all the intrusive thoughts and the malicious voices reminding you of all the stories you have heard almost your entire life of living in Smotia. You just have to keep reminding yourself that this is nothing but a coincidence. That the keys, the doors, this ominous looking castle have nothing to do with all those tales you heard before. 

Those aren’t real, you kept telling yourself when you first held the glimmering keys in your hand in your father’s absence. Bluebeard is just a myth, an urban legend, and he is definitely not my father. 

But each time you managed to convince yourself that your father and his magic keys had nothing to do with the urban legend that you kept thinking about, the voice in your head would return only to remind you of your past experience which you encountered quite a long time ago—

Then what about the peculiar being that I saw back then in The Elcester Forest?

Once you heard the news about His Majesty’s departure from the castle, you spent no more time wallowing inside your bedchamber and to keep questioning everything. You have instead been using the time to find some answers. And, of course, you just had to use the chance to try out the keys one by one until you are used to them.

On the first and second day of your father’s absence, you spent most of your waking hours diving into the old books you found in the library. You would enter the library the moment the sun was up and only left when the sky outside was growing darker, only taking short breaks when the maids would come to bring you lunch and the afternoon tea, or whenever Nanny Abigail would come to visit you there. 

Even when she came to accompany you with her short presence, you would spend it with her talking about everything that you had found, to have her helping you understanding with more depth everything that you have learned so far.

From the books, you have learned more about Far Far Away, the new side of the world that you have never once been exposed of. It has been helping you to learn quite a bit more about magic, mana, and aura, everything that has only existed in this side of the realm. From the scriptures, you have also learned about the many magical beings that His Majesty has mentioned—other than humans and mages, those who have acquired powerful magic and ancient spells—that you may come across if you should travel across the land. That within this realm, all the magical beings that you have only read in the fiction books you grew up with truly exist, residing in different parts of the land where they would find peace and safety.

From the new tutor, Lady Laurel, who finally arrived to teach you about everything that you needed to know, you have been learning about how to recognise mana and aura within a person. Starting from your own, which had been—and still is—lying dormant inside you due to the long period of time you spent living away from this magical realm. 

Despite the short period of tutoring time you spent with her, you found hope to finally be able to have someone you can depend on when it comes to revealing the secrets about this castle and, most importantly, about your father, and it was quite obvious to you that Lady Laurel would be so open to answer any of your questions that everyone else seems to have been evading. 

On the third day, you spent your time roaming through the hallways after tutoring time ended, trying on the keys to see what was beyond the wooden and bronze coloured doors. 

You were careful as you entered the treasure rooms, knowing full well how important all the valuables that you would find behind those doors. While all the flashy jewelleries and rubies did catch your interest, you found no desire of taking them as your own and had only chosen to leave them all be. 

It was instead the store rooms which had you completely fascinated. All the vintage and ornate furnitures, draperies, beddings, and other accessories that were beyond anything you could ever imagine filled these rooms. It took you a long time to pick something that you could bring back to your bedchamber, adding your personal touch to the private space that you have been residing in to look more colourful yet feel comfortable for you to finally settle in. You had so much fun decorating your space and choosing between the magnificent furnishings that you almost lost track of time. It wasn’t until dusk when Nanny Abigail and the lady maids rushed to find you when you finally stopped and left to have your supper.

The fourth day finally arrives with your father’s absence from the home castle, and you finally have the courage and enough curiosity to begin revealing the true magic behind the silver doors. 

You roam through the hallways after tutoring hours ended, trying to decide which door you should try to open for your initial trial of encountering your father’s magic for the first time. After an entire week of roaming through the castle in your free time, you have come to learn that it would be easier for you to find your destination by following your intuition. 

And that is exactly what you choose to do when you still cannot decide where to go. 

Holding the silver key in your hand, you let your own two feet lead the way, taking you—quite oddly—back towards the King’s study room. Right before you reach it, you feel an invisible pull guiding you to turn towards an open hall nearby where a silver door with floral embellishment covering its surface appears before you. A familiar feeling starts vibrating around you, a sensation that reminds you quite a lot to the feeling that came through you when you first encountered the forbidden twin doors on the South Tower. 

A hum is heard from the door as you slowly approach it, which immediately stops once you put the key in to unlock it, and you finally experience the first direct encounter of the castle’s magic once you step foot into it.

The first silver door which you open brings you to a familiar-looking room that certainly does not look like a part of the castle. Not this castle. To your surprise, you suddenly find yourself standing in the corner of your father’s study room. The same study where he would spend many hours working either on his own or accompanied by his aides and advisors. The same study where you last confronted Advisor Kim about the threats that the King was dealing with back at the palace. 

Your knees grow weak when you quickly realise where you are. Somehow, the silver door had not led you to a new, uncharted room somewhere inside of the Stargrave Castle, but had instead taken you back home to The Citadel, where you had been only a week ago. 

For a moment, you start wondering to yourself that perhaps you are currently dreaming, or that you are somehow imagining yourself being back home after thinking about this place for a period of time, until you begin to hear the familiar sound of footsteps walking towards the closed door of the study room. 

At first, in your confusion, you are unable to move. Your eyes are simply locked on the door to the study room while your feet are rooted on the spot. The footsteps come to halt right outside of the door, and voices—familiar voices—begin to converse out there, and you are suddenly overcome with a strong urge to run and hide. As you turn, you finally notice for the first time the door where you had actually come from. 

Right behind where you had been standing frozen, appears to you a standing mirror that looks like the perfect twin to the mirror you saw in your father’s study in Stargrave Castle which you had been so drawn to. Unlike the other, this mirror doesn’t stand out as much as it is positioned between the massive bookshelf behind your father’s working desk and the large window facing the courtyard which now has the curtains drawn closed. The other difference is the surface, as the dark glass mirror you see is glowing, with iridescent blue lights glimmering and whirling while you can almost see the shadow of the long hallway you left behind as you entered the magic door flickering from beneath the display of blue swirling lights. 

The clicking sound from the door—the actual door—snaps you out of your wonderment and you rush towards the drawn curtains, hoping that its thickness and length would be enough to hide you from whoever it is entering the room.  

The surprises continue as you take a peek from behind the curtains to watch Advisor Kim entering the room, followed close behind by the Commander of the Royal Guard, and they both make their way to your father’s working desk while conversing deeply, oblivious to your presence and the inauspicious blue lights coming from the mirror which you can still clearly see from this angle.   

“You must understand, we cannot act haste under the circumstances. Not without the King’s presence and without his formal orders,” you hear Advisor Kim’s stern voice echoing through the room as he rushes behind the desk. Even from this distance, you can see the deep furrow forming on his face, the stress clearly written in his expression as he speaks with the Commander who is responding to him calmly,

“But it was His Majesty’s order for the army to prepare and arm themselves, to be ready if war should come to us.” 

Advisor Kim looks sternly at the Commander and inquires, “Have we heard any news from our men in the Kosha Empire’s territory?” 

The Commander wears a grim look on his face as he answers, “No, Sir. Unfortunately, except for the rumours and the words spread from mouth to mouth within the people of Kosha’s Empire about the emperor’s plan to launch an attack towards us, there are no more news yet. But we have been investigating closely about the previous attempt against His Majesty,” —the Commander lowers his voice as he begins to speak about the recent assassination attempt, and you do your best to listen in, curious to see if you can find out more about it. 

After the past conversation you had with Advisor Kim, you shouldn’t be too surprised when the Commander adds, “—and we have found more evidence which could prove that the royal family of the Kosha Empire were the ones who placed the orders. They are the ones behind the threat against our empire, and you are now telling me that we shouldn’t do something about it?”

Advisor Kim looks away and deeply sighs. “We have yet to receive any war declaration from Kosha Empire, it would be an atrocity if we make a move against them first only based on rumours and hearsay.” The advisor lifts his chin and faces the Commander before the other can say anything. His voice becomes accusatory when he speaks again. “Even if we obtained enough evidence to demand Kosha Empire’s responsibility and incriminate them for the assassination plan against His Majesty, how are we to provide the evidence to the public? Did you forget,” —pressing his palms on the desk before him, Advisor Kim leans forward, placing his face as close as possible to the Commander as he nearly growls to say, “That dead men can’t speak?” 

You cover your mouth with your hands, stopping yourself from making a surprised sound. There is something menacing in the way Advisor Kim talks about the possibility that there had been a way for the royal guards to find a witness or remaining evidence, when it had been said that your father had slaughtered every single men who came into his chamber that night to take his life. Then you look at the Commander, who is obviously looking displeased for having the advisor mentioning this. 

“And what if the enemy comes to us while we are being too complacent?” the Commander challenges the advisor, while Advisor Kim merely closes his eyes and pulls away.

Instead of answering the Commander’s threat with another argument, he simply responds firmly by saying, “We must wait for the King’s orders.” 

You watch as the Commander shakes his head with pure disappointment, but it doesn’t seem like he is about to challenge the advisor further as he exhales a long, deep breath and asks, “Where is His Majesty now?” 

Advisor Kim turns to the pages he finds on the desk—the ones you recognised before as war plans and maps of the territories of Nythelean Empire and its surrounding terrain—and starts flipping them around. As if he is trying to avoid giving answers. “He hasn’t been back to the capital yet. I would like to believe that His Majesty is now focusing on securing the Crown Princess’ protection while also making his own preparations regarding to this—” he exhales sharply with displeasure, “—war, you keep bringing up about.” 

“I trust that Her Highness’ whereabouts is still being kept secret among the royals and the King’s men,” the Commander inquires, much to your relief and delight. For a moment there, you were beginning to question his loyalty to the King and empire, as he seems to be pushing the plan of declaring a war with the rivalling empire judging by the way he was speaking to the advisor. 

“Not even I know where Her Highness is currently taking shelter in,” Advisor Kim answers sharply as he faces the Commander again. His answer surprises you, as you had initially thought that he would be the one among the royal advisors that your father would have entrusted the information around your protection with, but you soon understand when you hear him explaining, “And it would be better to keep it this way. Both His Majesty and I have been suspecting that there is a spy among the royal aides who was placed by the Kosha Empire. After Her Highness’ absence and the King’s departure, I have been receiving reports from Marc, the King’s personal aide, that there had been sightings of one of the senior royal advisors who kept questioning around, inquiring to know where Her Highness has gone to.” 

Once again, the Commander shows displeasure at this information he is given. “Then you best place your focus on keeping an eye on your men, Sir. While I prepare the army so that we shall be ready once the King gives us his official orders.”

Just when you expect to hear the advisor arguing against this demand, Advisor Kim—for the first time—agrees. Then their conversation continues briefly, as they talk about war plans, the King’s protection, and how to handle the rumours of rebellion rising in the small districts around the capital. You try to listen and gather as much information as possible, though your mind continues to recall over and over again about the part where they mentioned the rivalling empire, the ones who are insisting to bring down your father’s rein for reasons you know nothing about. 

You are busy thinking deeply about these threats and the possibility that your father’s empire is truly going to be involved in a war against another empire when the men ends their conversation. The tension that you felt earlier from their exchange quickly dwindles as you watch them making their way out of your father’s study room, leaving you behind with nothing more but the silence.

Once you are sure that they have indeed left and you are cleared to step out of your hiding place, you immediately rush to make your exit. Though in your haste, you almost make a mistake by going towards the study room’s door to leave, until your father’s voice suddenly comes through your head, reminding you of one of the warnings he had given you,

“You can only return home by going through that very same door you came from.”

You quickly stop and turn back around, finding the mirror that you saw earlier, with its blue lights still swirling on the black glass, calling for you the same way the silver door you entered through had been. With cautious steps, you walk towards it, reaching out to the glass as you come close, realising quickly that the magical-looking mirror truly is the door that you came in from when your hand pierces through, a cold breeze brushing against your skin as you watch it sinking into the glass. 

So you carefully step inside, and just as expected, you magically emerge on the other side, finding yourself stepping into the same hallway from the Stargrave Castle that you initially came from. The silver door closes shut behind you as you step away, hiding the secret beyond the door once again with its magic spell.

— © 2023 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[moonymiel]

daydreaming about crown prince sirius and his brother prince regulus who are assigned personal guardsmen when regulus comes of age because the king and queen are concerned about their children being target of assassination attempts now that they can both claim the throne.

enter knights ser remus and ser james who are assigned to each brother, who are stationed at their doors every night and share the same chambers during their travels, to ensure no one could sneak through a window or a hidden door and hurt the princes.

the brothers are curious about their guardsmen; sirius a bit reluctant to lose his freedom (he doesn’t know what by the time he and remus are close enough he won’t feel the urge to make his way to a dodgy tavern outside of town to find someone who will make him feel because remus will be right there, and he is the best thing sirius could have ever imagined) and regulus is more visibly upset because james is a manifestation of the danger his brother is constantly in as crown prince (he doesn’t know that james would die for sirius just as much as he would for regulus, and he would stay by his side no matter how much regulus would try to push him away). all in all the brothers are distrusting and not immediately polite, hardened marble faces that betray no emotion, even when james makes regulus laugh once and warms his entire body like he has never felt before. even when remus doesn’t stop sirius from sneaking out of the castle, but goes with him to look at the stars and listens to his impromptu lecture on constellations.

it’s after a particularly aggressive ambush in a part of the woods they had not expected to be unsafe that everything tips. james and regulus had been separated early into the fight, but remus was already there, grabbing sirius by the sleeve to drag him close to his brother, handing them both knives and throwing himself into battle like a wild animal. sirius and regulus were frozen. they had trained in the art of battle for years, but being thrown out of their carriages in the middle of the night by ruthless vandals wasn’t covered in the fight procedures they had studied. a stray fighter got past remus, and sirius had already raised his arm, ready to do whatever he had to to keep regulus safe, when james was suddenly there.

he got rid of the man before either brother could blink, and then he was fighting along remus, quickly finishing off anyone that would dare come even slightly close to the princes. by the time they were safe, warm and dry in sirius’ rooms at the palace, the brothers realised there was not a single scratch on them. not only had ser remus and ser james reacted so quickly to the ambush, they hadn’t let anyone get a scratch on them, while both knights were currently sporting black eyes, burst lips and even one bloody eyebrow on james that made regulus feel a particular kind of way.

and it was the realisation that he and sirius were safe that did it. before regulus was thinking, he was heading down to his own chambers where he knew ser james was positioned, not without sending ser remus into sirius’ room, knowing his brother better than he even knew himself in that moment.

marble exteriors came crashing down in kisses and careful embraces, cleaning up wounds and promising reciprocal devotion. because what were princes without loyalty, and what were sirius and regulus without desiring love from the people they know will keep them safe.

remus and james knew they would gladly spend their lives making the princes not only safe, but immensely, undeniably, maddeningly happy.

aaaand they lived happily ever after.

(this might become a full fledged au for me at some point, please don’t take this!)

[blues824]

May I request the cast of The Remarried Empress reacting to a Male!Yuki Sohma!Reader who is adopted by Empress Navier who one day found him lost and confused on palace grounds. Thinking he is a mere lost teen not from the Eastern Empire who accidentally stumbled upon Her Majesty (she assumes he's a noble's child running from traffickers for his princely appearance), she quickly takes him in, ensures he's bathed, and clothed in soft fabrics befitting someone of a high status.

She makes sure to be firm on her decision to adopt the polite boy after no one comes forth to claim him no matter how hard Sovieshu fights her not to. She can't, in good conscience, leave the boy to defend himself (she grew attached).

While he may not be able to take on the title of Prince (if I remember correctly), he's still her child in the eyes of the law.

(She finds out about his curse one day after he is badly struck by his asthma and barely manages to keep human form long enough until it's just the two of them when he transforms. He tells her everything; the world he comes from, the life he had to live, the sorrow he feels for being unable to tell her the truth in fear she'd look at him differently, and how he wishes to stay here and live a happy life as her son but fears he may not have a choice in whether he goes back or not. Only she, and eventually Heinrey, knows his true secret)

Not gonna lie, I want Navier as a mom.

Sovieshu

His wife had a soft spot for children, but he was surprised when he found out that she wished to adopt a child that she had found with no parents around. He met you, and you were a very polite child, but that wasn’t the problem. What the problem was was that you wouldn’t be inheriting the throne since you would be adopted rather than blood-related.

However, you could be adopted into the Trovi family, and that would make you Navier’s child rather than the child of both the Emperor and Empress. Over that, he had no jurisdiction so he let it go, albeit annoyed. Now, instead of ignoring her, she ignored him so that she could tend to you, and it made Sovieshu so angry.

Rashta

You caused her to have PTSD, and she flew into a fit of hysteria upon finding out that the Empress wanted to adopt you and bring you into the palace. She begged Sovieshu not to let it happen, but he told her that he had no control over it since you would be given the name of Trovi rather than Vict.

She showed obvious contempt towards you, and often tried to avoid you as best she could. The only thing that brought her comfort was the fact that you couldn't inherit the throne smoothly and would likely have to through war, which gave her a chance to go through the plan of having Sovieshu divorce Navier so that her child would be the rightful heir.

Navier

She fought tooth and nail so that she could adopt you. She even had you officialized by the High Priest, and that solidified your place as her child. However, she was deeply saddened that no matter what you couldn’t be named Sovieshu’s heir. No matter, since she made sure that you were given a tutor and you were clothed properly and doted upon. 

But one day you had an asthma attack and were immediately put to bed. The servants informed her, and she quickly made her way to your bedside. She had no record of your medical history, so she asked you about your life up to this point, and was shocked to find out about your curse. She helped you sit up and she gave you a hug, reassuring that she thought of you no differently than her son and wiped your tears away as she helped you get back to your normal self.

Heinrey

It was through his correspondence with Her Imperial Majesty that he found out about you. The press knew very little about you due to the preference of Navier, so he knew nothing about you. His heart grew warm when she told him that she had found you wandering around unsupervised and without parents, and she adopted you. Mans was already making preparations to have you be the Crowned Prince of the Western Kingdom when he inherits the throne.

He was walking with Navier in the garden when some servants reported that you had a coughing fit that left you barely able to breathe, and he followed her to your bedchambers. Upon her asking you about your life to gain some sort of understanding about what happened, the two found out about your curse. After a bit, Navier left and left you both in the room. There, he whispered that he had a power similar to yours, where he can turn into a bird. It gave you some comfort to know that your soon-to-be stepdad knew what you were going through.

[scalamore]

Rupelali's budding romance (Lari version)

What I always find endearing (?), is how Rupelali are just so ignorant of their own feelings for each other. It's not a simple misunderstanding type of situation, but rather "two people who have never experienced romantic love can't tell they love each other". Love, after all, is an abstract concept, especially for the both of them. Lari, as fond as she is of romantic novels, has never felt romantic love of her own, and fails to recognize the "heartaches" she feels when she looks at Rupert is romance (heavily hinted), and instead mistakes it as anxiety/nervousness/guilt, which is an emotion she's very much used to from her trauma of TL1.

What amuses me, is that SO MANY people knew Rupert and Lari had a thing for each other, YEARS before the two actually realized it themselves. In manhwa chapter 60, Tori first hinted at Rupert's feelings for her. Around that time, Louis had complained that he was already giving special treatment towards Lari. As crown prince, the maids and servants noticed when Rupert protected Lari from the arrogant knight, and how he defended her when she was framed. This gossip spread to the south, where Nelly and the Nanny had asked her about that palace romance - which of course Lari denied. Because, as far as she was aware, she was bound to Rupert though that promise in Chapter 32 - She was his maid, she belonged to him, and that's it. She earned enough of his trust so he'd protect her, and that's it. He may own her, but her feelings are her own

Besides, It's not like Rupert ever showed any romantic feelings for her. He's the usual Rupert - minds his own business, is rude, and condescending to her. He still insults her sometimes... where is the romance in that? Again, she's just his trusted attendant. Of course, others will see "romance" between them, but they don't know of their promise. But Lari's not dumb, when she realized Rupert yeeted to the South, even harming himself with Alchemy when he heard she was injured.... she admits, yes, she's become someone so important to him... those feelings *could* be of love... but... So she chooses to IGNORE her suspicion that he loves her. That's not something she wants to find out the answer to. After all, "he" killed her in TL1. He's treated her the same as always. She doesn't want to get ahead of herself and embarrass herself by jumping to conclusions either. So she chooses to run away, and not talk to him about it. Even when he proposes marriage - even though he was serious - the fact he was so nonchalant about it made Lari think he wasn't serious at all, and decline it.

Lari's characterization is consistent: She's been alone this whole time, she doesn't have anyone she can trust and talk to about things like this. She bottles up her emotions, trying to deal with everything herself. She convinces herself that Rupert doesn't like her, doesn't feel anything special for her, because he has Tori. She shouldn't get in their way, because she's an outsider. She doesn't want to talk to Rupert about it, because it's none of her business. Lari keeps on running away from her own feelings, and from Rupert as well.

After Rupert acknowledges that he really, really cares about Lari, really treasures and cherishes her, and vows to give her anything she wants in Ch 98 (but doesn't quite understand he loves her yet), Lari feels burdened by his feelings. It's getting harder for her to deny his feelings, and she feels so guilty and awkward, she starts hiding from him, but of course as tenacious as he is, Rupert always goes to look for her. He actually finds it a bit fun to find her during this game of "hide and seek" (he also gets Elaine and Louis to help lol). It gets to the point that Lari is aware, but full on denial of his feelings by the night of his coronation to Emperor. As much as she trusts him, her self-doubt blinds her:

Through Lehan's gaslighting, Lari was convinced: As much as Rupert loves and cherishes her, it won't be enough. He will choose the throne over her.

That is literally Lari's fatal mistake: she's so caught up in her despair, she makes assumptions out of fear. She's completely blindsighted to even the idea that Rupert truly loves her, and will choose HER over the throne. She understands how much she hurt Rupert, poor Rupert who was happy at how well they were getting along, living a comfortable live at the palace... all he wanted was the be coronated Emperor and have Lari be happy and congratulate him... but all he got was Lari, who had disappeared, and he found her unconscious in a sea of flames.

When she woke up, Lari finally apprehended him: He loves her, doesn't he? Although Rupert couldn't clearly articulate "yes", Lari knew it all along: he did. He does. But in her condition, she was unable to accept. So she chooses to break everything off. Otherwise she'd feel overwhelmed by the burden of everything in both timelines, and want to die. So Rupert allowed her to leave, because by being free, she would be "alive". While in the village, Lari again, knows full well how much Rupert love her, and how much she hurt him by feigning ignorance to his feelings. She just hoped he would have moved on by now... but she can't help but miss him, and all the time they spent together. While she hated House Belois, especially Lehan and Trash dad, she could never hate Rupert. She kept Lehan around to get updates on how Rupert was doing, after all. She really misses him, and the time they spent together at the palace. And when they reunited - she felt so relieved and excited to see him again, a feeling that she had almost forgotten after a year ... So by the time chapter 124ish comes around, that time apart had strengthened Lari's resolve: She has finally healed enough to accept Rupert's feelings, as well as her own. Her choice was clear: She will stay beside Rupert, and ensure he's happy and will protect him, because if not her, who else? She will protect him, herself. If he still loves her this much, then why should she continue to deny bother her feelings, and his? There's no point in her pointless shame and apologies, if he's really accepted them both as well. So the answer is clear: she chooses to, and will stay beside him from now on as "Lariette". :)

and I think all this is beautiful ;__;

[elettralightwood]

Moments from the email disaster that broke me in a million pieces ♡

“how could you possibly be stupid enough to get photographed? I swear to God—” Alex doesn’t even hear the last part of what she says, because his stomach has just dropped all the way down through the floor and into the fucking basements two floors below. “Fuck.”

Tinted windows, but he forgot about the fucking windshield.

Him whispering something in Henry’s ear while Henry smiles a soft, private smile.

Fucking shitting hell. He is so fucked. Henry is so fucked. And, Jesus Christ, his mother’s campaign is fucked, and his political career is fucked, and his ears are ringing, and he’s going to throw up.

God, Henry. All he can think about is Henry’s big blue eyes looking terrified, Henry’s breathing coming shallow and quick, locked in his bedroom in Kensington Palace and desperately alone, and his jaw locks up, something burning in the back of his throat.

On the second page, he sees them: printed and annotated excerpts of their emails. It begins with a line he’s read about a thousand times by now. Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams ... “Fuck!” he says a third time, spiking the newspaper at the floor. That one was his. It feels obscene to see it there.

When he reaches for an emotion to name, he finds he can’t pin one down, and something shudders inside him and shuts down completely.

“I am your mother. I was your mother before I was ever the president, and I’ll be your mother long after, to the day they put me in the ground and beyond this earth. You are my child. So, if you’re serious about this, I’ll back your play.”

“So,” she says. “Do you feel forever about him?” And there’s no room left to agonize over it, nothing left to do but say the thing he’s known all along. “Yeah,” he says, “I do.”

They all turn to look at him, and Alex feels a wave of something so much bigger than himself sweep over him. A sound escapes his throat uninvited, something that he barely even recognizes, and June has him first, then the rest of them, arms and arms and hands and hands, pulling him close and touching his face and moving him until he’s on the floor, thinking distantly that he’s having a panic attack, and that’s why he can’t breathe, but he’s just staring at the rug and he’s having a panic attack and knowing why his lungs won’t work doesn’t make them work again.

He sleeps in fits and starts, wakes up sweating, wakes up shivering. He dreams in short, fractured scenes that swell and fade erratically. He dreams of himself at war, in a muddy trench, love letter soaking red in his chest pocket. He dreams of a house in Travis County, doors locked, unwilling to let him in again. He dreams of a crown.

A tweet: lmaoooo wait look at page 22 of the emails alex is such a hoe. A tweet: OMFG DID YOU SEE somebody who went to uni with Henry posted some photos of him at a party and he is just like Profoundly Gay in them i’m screaming.

His mom has signed off on them going public with the truth, which is incredible, but there’s no reason to expect that from the crown. He could get marching orders to deny everything. He thinks he might grab Henry and run if it comes down to that.

Still, the cocky shithead part of him is slightly pleased to finally have a claim on Henry. Yep, the prince? Most eligible bachelor in the world? British accent, face like a Greek god, legs for days? Mine.

There are the flaws everyone’s allowed to see—his big mouth, his mercurial temper, his searing impulses —and then there’s this. It’s like how he only wears his glasses when nobody’s around: Nobody’s supposed to see how much he needs. He doesn’t care that people write about his sex life, real or imagined. He cares that they know, in his own private words, what’s pumping out of his heart.

And Henry. God, Henry. Those emails—those letters—were the one place Henry could say what he was really thinking. There’s nothing that wasn’t laid out in there: Henry being gay, Bea going to rehab, the queen tacitly keeping Henry in the closet. Alex hasn’t been a good Catholic in a long time, but he knows confession is a sacrament. They were supposed to stay safe.

“Hello?” It’s Henry’s voice, sweet and posh and shaky and confused, and relief knocks the wind out of him “Sweetheart.” He hears Henry’s exhale over the line. “Hi, love.”

“Philip broke a vase that belonged to Anne Boleyn, Gran ordered a communications lockdown, and Mum hasn’t spoken to anyone.”

“I won’t lie. Not about this. Not about you.” Alex’s eyelashes are wet. “I fucking love you.” “I love you too.”

“I’m coming. I’ll be there soon.” Henry exhales a wet, broken laugh. “Please, do hurry.”

[chyirly]

TMNT, except it's one of those cliche ‘I Was Transmigrated As the Villainous Lazy Prince!’ with the main character being Mikey.

Orenji, Mikeys real world name, is reading one of the most cliche ‘Normal girl is summoned to a fantasy world as the Saint that will fight against an evil darkness. Gaining her own harem of powerful figures along the way.’ novels.

The villain is Prince Michelangelo who made a deal with a demon in order to gain more power before being taken over by the demon.

Orenji then goes to sleep after reaching the end of the novel and then wakes up in the world of the ‘insert cliche name’ in the body of Prince Michelangelo.

He's surrounded by maids telling him he was in a coma after falling from his balcony. None of his family come in, which fits with the plot of the novel. He decides to fake amnesia.

Before he realizes that the beginning of the story already began. This is bad because by then Prince Michelangelo had already begun antagonizing the Saint for getting close to his brothers.

Blah blah blah, the usual plot, NOW HERES THE INTERESTING STUFF! (under cut)

- Leo is the Crown prince that is never around, but still knows everything going on, he's calculating in nature and is the first to notice that Michelangelo's amnesia is fake/not an actual thing

- Raph is a war general that is known for his brutality is busy fighting on the outskirts to care about drama in the palace

- Donnie is the royal scientist that has greatly improved the scientific field, with microscopic help from the Saint, using her for experiments, he is too trapped in his world to care about what’s going on outside

- Casey is Raphs second in command, following him to war, and in his spare time is a part of the palaces guard, he's obsessed

- April is Donnie's assistant and is also apart of the secret guard

- Splinter is the heartbroken King that tries to be there for his children but sometimes pushes them away

- The brothers do care for each other, especially Michelangelo because he is the youngest, they spoiled him rotten and distanced themselves after realizing that they were the reason the Michelangelo had changed so much

- This broke Michelangelo's heart, who saw his brothers as the lights of his life and saw their separation as them abandoning him

- After waking up, Mikey sought to give himself a better life then both of the ones before by getting close to background influential charcaters, beginning with Donnie

- Donnie tried to figure out why Mikey had amnesia, pushing himself to find a ‘cure’, even through darker means

- Raph was in a war when he got the news of Mikey's amnesia, so he got a bit more bloody just so that he could return earlier then the plot

- Leo might have put a few secret guards around Mikey, but nobody has any proof of that

- Michelangelo and Mikey have very different interests and dislikes, some are flipped for the person, which is what puts suspicion on Mikey not being Michelangelo

- The brothers might have visions of the past timeline

Orenji’s life

- Hes a single child

- He's friends with a pair of twins and a member of the wrestling club, as well as a member of the newspaper club, a member of the hockey club and their cousin

- He was part of the art club, which is why he read the novel, was tasked to draw his favorite scene from an assigned book

- He was popular with other students and staff, being the person that they could go to when they wanted to express their feelings

- He has a part-time job at the local restaurant/bakery, with the shop being a regular participant in the local cook-off competition

- Draxum is his dad, but due to being a well-known scientist he's out of town most of the time, so to not feel lonely Orenji would crash at his friend's house

- Michelangelo might be living his life now

[wiredaughter]

@augustwritingchallenge: princes and princesses @aug-kissed: first kiss

♥︎♥︎♥︎

full blown love

explicit ♡ oh sangwoo×yoon bum ♡ korean empire ♡ rough sex ♡ obsession ♡ unhealthy relationships ♡ happy ending ♡ porn with plot ♡ 3,299 words ♡ ao3

The crowned Emperor is looking for a wife. That’s what Emperors do, Yoon Bum reasons, and still he can’t help but feel crestfallen. It’s not like he, raised as a ward of his minor lord of an uncle, ever came close to having a chance. Still, a wife would make it more difficult to sneak into the palace’s gardens to steal even a glance of Sangwoo’s perfect face.

When Sangwoo starts granting audiences to noble women, Yoon Bum knows it’s not long until he chooses one. Still, weeks go by and news of an engagement are yet to break. Must be a matter of time. It’s the knowledge that his nighttime expeditions are bound to end soon that emboldens Bum now, not happy with remaining in the outside, instead managing to climb a tree and slink from there through a window into a great hall that blinds him momentarily with its opulence.

He was raised in a palace himself, but the faded, worn halls of his uncle’s residence have nohting on this. He holds his breath at the beauty of the statues flanking the elaborate columns, and the vivid paintings that cover the walls. He walks until he passes an oval mirror, and stops to look into his own awed expression, measuring himself unconsciously against everything that surrounds him, and finding himself lacking. He’s small, way too pale for a healthy man, and his straight bangs hang over his forehead in a way that seems to accentuate the bags under his eyes.

All in all, the figure he cuts against the rich brocade hanging behind him is paltry at best. He hardens his face before moving on. This is not about him, this is about Sangwoo. Sangwoo, how he’s loved him since he, before ascending to the throne, had stopped some lordlings from pushing him into the river in a hunting expedition. Thinking about the cool authority with which he’d saved him, Bum feels like he’s floating more than walking, and he finds his way to the Imperial Chamber before he notices.

He hesitates at the door. The idea of being this close to where Sangwoo sleeps makes the erection he’s had since he entered the palace harden to the point it’s hard to ignore it to walk. He stumbles through the threshold, feet guiding him to the bed. With a choked exclamation he falls to his knees next to it, burying his face into the covers. He crawls up, imagining how Sangwoo would take him here, and his blood freezes in his veins when his hand reaches out and instead of more blankets he meets skin. Cold and dry, human. He sits up in an instant, pulling his hand back to tug at the covers and discover among a cocoon of them a woman, delicate features covered with the unmistakable pallor of death.

He moves to get away with such force he’s falling out of bed and into a nightstand that topples with his weight, sending its contents to the floor. Things happen too fast then, he’s moving to crawl into a corner and there’s guards rushing in and he doesn’t stand a chance against them but he thrashes in their hold anyway until he’s hit over the head and loses consciousness.

He comes to with his hands secured to a post in front of him, undressed to his sokgot for reasons that become obvious when something hard and thin connects with his back, leaving a fiery line of pain that has him gasping for air even as it falls down on him again, and again. When Bum manages to focus his vision through the pain of the whipping, he finds he’s in a private chamber, kneeling at the post a short distance before Sangwoo.

‘Sangwoo-’ he gasps, forgetting protocol and propriety in the spark of desire that breaks through the pain. ‘S-Sangwoo, I didn’t mean… I just-’

His voice breaks with an agonised cry, but it gets Sangwoo’s contemptuous expression to budge minutely. He stands up, raises a hand to stop the onslaught and circles him, not unlike a vulture surveying for carrion. He stops in front of Bum, tilting his chin up with his shoe.

‘You what?’

Bum’s breath hitches in his chest. When he exhales, he can’t help the truth coming out with it. ‘I love you. I love you Sangwoo.’ He presses his cheek against the Emperor’s calf before he’s taking a disgusted step back, and the rejection makes Bum tug against the rope on his wrists. ‘I do love you! And you… those women… she was- I love you.’

Sangwoo looks at him the way he would examine a particularly peculiar insect that’s flown into his jjigae. He shrugs, and orders the guards to cut Bum loose and leave. They obey without a word, and he sags to the floor without the support of his bindings, staying there until Sangwoo picks him up like his uncle’s been underfeeding him even more than he thought. He’s suspended between fear and desire in his strong arms, and his brain scrambles to catch up as he’s thrown in the same bed that’d been his downfall earlier.

He lands hard on his back, and he’s turning to his side to alleviate the soreness blooming at the contact. Sangwoo stares, expressionless, before he’s leaning in to pull his sokgot away, and Bum is too shocked to move, to even think to stop him. He shakes, bare against the covers, under Sangwoo’s dead, scrutinising gaze.

‘I’m not marrying those women. They’re all the same.’ His speech is monotone, head tilted to the side. ‘I bring them here, they all say they love me, and then fight to get away when they see.’

Bum holds his breath. As horrified as he’d been at the corpse in this very bed, as horrified as he still might be, he can’t make a move to get away. He closes his knees tight, trying to will his prick to remain flaccid. ‘But I- I love you.’

Sangwoo pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘You are a man.’ He seems to think it over, eyes still raking over Bum’s body, before he makes up his mind. ‘Show me.’

‘W-what?’

‘I know you’re different.’ He pulls on Bum’s wrists to make him sit up. ‘Now show me you can be like them.’

Does that mean…? Bum doesn’t dare think about it, sitting on his heels in front of Sangwoo. He reaches a trembling hand for Sangwoo’s goreum, pulling his clothes loose with fearful longing. Sangwoo is still as a statue, and his acceptance gets Bum to lean in closer to his body as he strips him.

This is paradise, something he was never meant to have and has still achieved. Every inch of toned, tan muscle he uncovers, the heat of his strong body radiating into his, those beautiful dark eyes looking at Bum and nothing else. He slides his arms around Sangwoo’s neck to pull him close, needing a kiss that is not to come, as Sangwoo jerks back with an expression of barely veiled disgust.

‘I don’t want to kiss you. You’re weird.’ Bum shrinks at the words, knowing them to be true. Still, Sangwoo sits next to him in bed, ruffles his hair with a hand like one would a pet. ‘ Do something more useful.’

The pain of rejection mixes with Bum’s undeniable arousal and, of course, the implicit threat of being on the bed so many women have died in. He slides to the floor, moving to rest his cheek on Sangwoo’s thigh, eyes glued to his half hard dick. He can only imagine how big it’ll be once it’s fully erect, and with this in mind he reaches a hand to stroke it for a moment before he’s guiding it into his mouth.

It’s big, and Bum’s features are small like a woman’s, so he finds his lips straining before his throat has a chance. He bobs his head a couple of times, shifting on his knees as his own dick twitches when Sangwoo’s hits the back of his throat. He swallows around it, trying to take more of it inside and failing. He screws his eyes as tears begin to flow, and breathes through his nose to make himself swallow as he pushes on down, forcing his own throat to open and accept Sangwoo’s girth.

This seems to amuse him, and he traces his lips with the nail of his thumb, teasing at the corners as if to make them take even more. Bum is getting dizzy, and reflexively pulls up to cough and gasp for breath for a moment before he remembers what's exactly going on and wraps his lips back around it, teasing with his tongue to give his throat a short reprieve. This time, he manages to get him down all the way until his lips are flush with Sangwoo’s skin and it’s so erotic he rubs his thighs together, wondering how Sangwoo would react if he came for a moment, before directing his attention back to his task.

He gets into a rhythm where he can breathe enough to keep his vision from darkening entirely and he’s driving his mouth up to the head of Sangwoo’s dick just to sink all the way in with such force he knows he’ll have trouble speaking after this. Lucky Sangwoo doesn’t seem interested in what he’s got to say, satisfied with the wet noises coming from him now. His neck is getting tired from the motion but he’s enjoying this too much. The slide and the comforting weight and the high of a limited oxygen supply.

‘Don’t even have to fuck your skull, do I? You’re happy to do it yourself. Happy to fuck my prick right through your face.’

His tone is disparaging, but there’s undeniable pleasure in his face and Bum babbles tentative agreements as best he can without halting his motions, swirls his tongue around Sangwoo’s shaft when it becomes evident he can’t verbally agree.

‘Hm. I think I will anyway.’

He holds Bum’s hair in a fist behind his head without further warning, and chuckles coldly when Bum pulls on it, trying to keep deepthroating him. Denied this, he whines around his cock, sending shivers all the way to his spine. He takes a moment to examine Bum’s face, his lips stretched obscenely around him, before he’s fucking into it so hard he can feel his nose digging into his pelvis every time he pushes in with no resistance.

Bum moans and cries, only increasing his pleasure, and this annoys him enough to hold him flush with him, relishing the tears that now flow continously down his sharp features. He moves his hand down to his neck, full of him, feeling the tense muscles under his palm. He squeezes, and counts to five as Bum stays stock still like he’s ready to die where he kneels choking on cock, before releasing. Bum shakes almost violently, but other than that, doesn’t move a muscle, so he repeats this a couple of times.

Bum’s throat closes around him, mouth making small sucking movements almost reflexively, and his eyes are still burning on his, as they’d been when he declared his love. As he holds his neck this time, his free hand comes to pinch his nose closed. This gets a reaction, in the way of Bum twisting and screaming something that’s silenced by the cock down his throat. He waits until his movements become languid before he’s pulling him off with a slurping sound, shoving him back on the floor to watch him curl his legs towards himself, rising on his arms to take as much air as possible. He pants hoarsely and now, with his puffy lips and messy hair, and his cheeks shining with tears and spit trailing down his chin, he could even be pretty.

Bum wipes his mottling face with the backs of his hands, making him consider he might be pretty even without the mess. He arches a brow, disliking this realisation. ‘Is that all?’

That’s all the permission Bum needs, and he’s closing the distance in twitchy movements, coming to kneel next to him on the bed. Slowly, like giving him time to pull away, he opens his legs to straddle him. He’s holding onto his shoulders and looking still so adoring he fears he’ll try to kiss him again. He doesn’t, opting to reach behind him to guide Sangwoo’s dick into him.

Sangwoo wouldn’t go as far as worrying about him, but he’s impressed. He knows it can’t be easy, even with the way Bum slobbered over his length, but if anything he seems to like that. His small erection, that had flagged somewhat when he’d thrown him on the floor, is standing again in full by the time he manages to get the head in, rim pulsing hot around him, and circles his hips tetstingly. He’s biting on his lower lip, breathing shallowly and continuing to lower his hips. He stops when there’s just over two inches to go, shoulders shaking to hold a sob in, to take deeper, more calculated breaths. When he gives a small smile, Sangwoo doesn’t know if he wants to kill him or throw him out and forget everything about this.

‘Nghh- you’re so big, Sangwoo…’ His voice is so wrecked he’d have trouble hearing him if they weren’t this close, fading entirely by moments. ‘It feels… it… so big…’

He scoffs, speaks with mocking concern. ‘Too much?’

Bum exhales, shakes his head. ‘I don’t mind when it hurts.'

He makes a valiant attempt to push his hips lower, thighs shaking as Sangwoo’s fingers dig in hard enough to bruise and then some. He’s so thin, so breakable in his hands. The thought amuses him, and he’s pulling him down on one thrust. Bum’s broken scream rings through the room as he curls on himself, hiding his face on Sangwoo’s chest, sobbing in full force now. And he must have meant it, about not minding pain, for his erection presses stubbornly at Sangwoo’s abdomen even now.

He makes Bum look at him with a firm hand on his jaw so he can lick the new tears off his skin. ‘Ride me.’

This is perfect, this is overwhelmingly perfect, surrounded by the man he loves and allowed to take his fill. Bum nods as he moves to comply with more enthusiasm than Sangwoo would probably expect, sinewy thighs tensing to rise just to drop him back down on Sangwoo’s lap, He hides his face on the crook of his neck to cry out his pleasure in breathy, rough moans. Sangwoo feels even bigger this way, the drive to get him out is just surpassed by his need for more. Bum thought he understood what stomach butterflies meant before, but that’s nothing to this. It’s like spasms are breaking all over his body and he doesn’t know if he wants to climax or throw up or drop dead.

He goes willingly when Sangwoo grabs his neck to shove him back into bed, welcoming the pain from his lashing and the new depths Sangwoo reaches from this angle. He’s all over him, holding him down with his weight and driving into him so hard he thinks he could die from it if he weren’t so in love. Sangwoo leans in, driving his legs up so his knees slot around his own head, and holds them there as he moves to pull at the corners of Bum’s lips. Unsure what that’s for, Bum lets his jaw hang open, and Sangwoo gives him a pleased look before he spits into his mouth. Bum wraps his arms around his neck, knowing he can’t kiss him but needing him close for this. Sangwoo’s pace stutters and then he’s actually kissing him.

Bum was so wrong. Nothing before this moment has mattered. This is paradise, this is all he’s ever wanted, this is the reason he didn’t end it all no matter how bad things got since his mother died. Sangwoo’s mouth is rough on his, biting until he can shove his tongue in, filling him with the same brutality as his cock does, hard and demanding and definitive. When he pulls away, Bum tries to follow but is held back by a familiar hand on his neck.

‘I love you, Sangwoo.’ He says between thrusts, measuring his voice so he can hear him. ‘You’re so good, you’re-’

He breaks off when Sangwoo pulls out, flipping him onto his stomach effortlessly to pull his hips up and continue to fuck the breath out of him. Mindlessly, he reaches a hand to touch himself, but Sangwoo snatches it back, plants him in his arse where he leaves it, and Bum takes the cue to hold himself open. If he had the voice, he’d ask whether he can’t touch himself or can’t come at all, or he’d warn that he won’t be able to hold it back if Sangwoo keeps this pace; deeper than anything he's felt and so fast it almost feels like aggression; but he can’t take a full breath in this position and his throat is raw and he’s choking on his tears, and he’s coming hard when Sangwoo’s open hand lands on him in a sharp spank.

The high whine that escapes him at the force of it leaves his throat throbbing, and his vision blurs and all he can hear is his own bloodstream and he’s seeing spots and Sangwoo just keeps going. He's fucking him open and landing more blows that light his skin aflame. And he’s done ejaculating but it keeps pulsing through him in shivers and his muscles keep tensing and releasing on their own accord and Sangwoo is holding his hips so tightly and he's so deep inside him, moving with such violence as his hand comes to hold him down by the nape of his neck. He manages to keep his head until he feels Sangwoo spilling inside him then he’s fading.

♡

Bum is used to waking up in pain. He’s not used to the giddy feeling that invades him when he remembers why he’s in pain. He opens his eyes to see Sangwoo, already awake, staring at him with the same curious look he’d given him last night. He wants to say something, but his voice seems nonexistent today. He blushes, remembering the feeling of Sangwoo fucking it out of him. Sangwoo frowns, puts his pointer to his sore lips as if to demand silence.

‘You’re a man.’ Bum’s mood falls with that assertion, but he only nods. ‘You cannot be an empress, but I’ll make you my consort.’

Bum’s heart does happy flips at that, unable to believe his luck. He went from not having a chance to being lashed like a criminal, to this. Foregoing words of thanks, he nuzzles into Sangwoo’s neck instead of kissing him like he wants to, unclear on the rules in that respect. That thought makes him pull away, stare into Sangwoo’s eyes. He tries to speak a couple of times before he gets the hang of it enough to make a sound, raspy and low but understandable enough. ‘I… I don’t want you to sleep with anyone else.’

He fears he pressed too hard when Sangwoo fixes him on a cold stare, but he ends up shrugging with an eyeroll. ‘My father warned me against fanciful consorts. Whatever, I won’t take other consorts or an Empress, does that make you happy?’

Bum nods emphatically, cups Sangwoo’s face with his hands and stops only a breath away from pressing their lips together. Sangwoo gives him an unimpressed look before he’s closing the distance, kissing him like Bum is annoying and mystifying and everything in his orbit.