#like how royalty may have painting of them in their main room or something

[octoooo]

Giyuu takes his gaming seriously

No he’s not kidding

I was a lil upset about my loss lmao

[ottspot]

EXCLUSIVE: Lillybug and Abyuse Interview - The Brains Behind Echo's Music

Music makes the world go 'round, as the saying goes. It's all around us whether we like it or not! And one itty bitty little part of the internet that music affects are visual novels. Furry visual novels, to be more specific.

Echo is one such visual novel, originally starting development in 2015 and wrapping up in April of 2021. Many people have read this novel as it was getting made, or once it was complete, and lots have praised the usage of music. Some of the tracks are royalty free, but a lot of it is original. Two of the people behind these original songs are Lillybug and Abyuse. The two of them were able to spend a little bit of their time with me to discuss the behind-the-scenes of their work.

Please note that the following interview contains spoilers for Echo.

The original text of these interviews was slightly edited to fix grammatical mistakes, as well as expanding some abbreviations. These interviews were also conducted at separate times.

Could you please introduce yourself to everyone? Name (real or online, whatever you prefer), pronouns, role on the Echo Project, current and/or past occupation, etc.

L: Hi there! My name is Lilly, my pronouns are she/they as well! I'm a musician for the Echo Project and I work full time as a barista outside of the online world.

A: Hello! I am Abyuse/Salem/Cervines. My pronouns are he/him. I worked on the soundtrack for Echo, made a few songs for A Role To Play, and beyond that I don’t do a whole lot.

How did you come to learn about the Echo visual novel?

L: One of my friends had recommended Adastra to me at first, so I played it and then checked out Echo and like, instantly fell in love with it.

A: Back in high school I happened upon Blackgate by chance. I followed it for a bit and was enamored with the idea of a visual novel (which was new to me). Echo was one of the side projects advertised on the Blackgate Patreon, so after a while, I checked it out and the rest is history.

Did the team give you any specific keywords or directions while making the tracks? You can be as specific as you would like.

L: Not exactly, because I had made both of my songs for Echo before I was even a part of the team haha. When I posted my WIP song called echo (Carl's route's ending) McSkinny then reached out to me asking to use it in game, to which I completely obliged!

A: When I was first approached with the idea of working on some music for Echo, the main descriptor that was given to me was something like “Southwestern gothic”. I know the use of guitars was emphasized as being quintessential, so I made sure to incorporate that. My first attempt at making something in that vein is the last bonus track on the Echo soundtrack. It was sort of a feeler for that kind of sound, because it wasn’t something I had done before.

For Backstage I and II, the image painted to me was essentially that of The Smoke Room before I knew what The Smoke Room was, that being a sleazy club with a perpetual haze of dust in the air, slightly sultry but muffled music playing the background, an old CRT up in the corner of the room. Also something about wood walls, I think? Maybe not. I may have added that myself.

And then for the main theme remix, it was like “hey the main theme, but make it evil.” Which was actually a bit harder than I thought it would be, it took about three full iterations before I found one I liked.

Honestly though, stuff like when your arms were around me v2, Theme for a Lonely Wolf, Shiver, and Good Morning were all things I made not because of a request, but because of personal interest. A lot of my music tends to be darker in nature, so as I grew as an artist, I ended up making things that fit Echo pretty well.

With the team's directions (if any), how were you able to get that perfect 'feel' for the music? Did you have your own inspirations and other resources to draw from?

L: I didn't exactly get any input from the team when making my tracks, but I tried to capture the atmosphere of the game the best that I could. My song blurry was pretty much written from Leo's point of view and that was the idea I had going into the track, so I guess it just worked out decently.

A: I was such a big fan of Echo that I felt that I knew, more or less, what would and would not fit the VN in terms of sound. That’s not to say I didn’t have inspiration, because my entire catalogue is heavily inspired. When it comes to sounds that fit the Echo aesthetic, I listened to a lot of music that I thought would fit. I’ll list a few but I couldn’t recount everything that inspired me if I tried.

Something I always tried to keep in mind when I made music for it was that it was not meant to be the main attraction, but serve as an effective backdrop for the writing and help to immerse the reader more into what was going on in the VN.

Could you go more in-depth to how your songs were made? This could be anything from the writing/making-of process, software and equipment used, whatever you interpret the question as.

L: So for blurry it was the first time I was using my new microphone I had just gotten, so the vocals on the song weren't exactly the most well made, but in a sense I feel like that worked even better for the song. It makes the song feel sort of jumbled, like it's a window into an afterthought into Leo's head, of him just wishing for something that could never really come in the end. echo was honestly more of an experiment than anything because it was my first time trying to figure out the DAW Ableton. I've been using FL Studio my whole career, but I liked the end result, so on a whim I just sort of posted the track in the Echo fan art channel (in the Discord).

A: It is no secret that I use FL Studio for everything, but something that is a definite secret (until now) is that I know next to nothing about the intricacies of music theory or instrumental work. I took piano lessons for the duration of my junior high and high school years, but none of that stuck with me. I have a 49 key MIDI keyboard, but it is collecting dust across the room for me. 

Pretty much every single melody I make is drag and drop, which means it probably takes longer for me to write music than others, but it has never bothered me to the point of wanting to learn (that and I'm extremely stubborn). 

As for my writing process, it’s different for everything. I make a bunch of different stuff so with different styles of music, comes different processes for creation. For the Echo type stuff (when your arms were around me and Leo’s theme in particular), I focus in on one aspect or sound I really like, and then build outwards from that. A lot of times I start in the main section, but that turns into the intro and I rewrite the main section. I usually make a skeleton of a melody or whatever, then do all the drum and percussion work, then go back to the melodies, then tune the drums again. Mixing and mastering is a scam (read: I'm lazy) so I avoid doing that as much as I can. Then I listen to the song about 50 times and I either revise or export it and listen to it another 50 times. 

If you are able to, do you have any rejected/unpublished drafts or demos of the songs that you would like to share? 

L: Yeah sure! I can try to dig up some old drafts of blurry and such, I provided an instrumental version of it to someone who wished to cover it, so that version is probably floating around out there somewhere.

A: There are a few! I have an alternate version of Good Morning, a track for ambience that was cave-like (made with the mine in mind), Salem’s theme (which ended up not being used), and a sort of chase theme (not Chase the character but chase as a verb). HOWEVER. These are pretty much all slated to come out on my next project already (more on that later).

https://soundcloud.com/abyuse/mysterious_1-salems-theme/s-cQir4lugvFO - This is what Salem's theme was going to be. Now, I may have the timeline for this messed up, but I believe a theme for him was requested before his final placement in the story was decided, so when the decision was made to kill my precious little innocent boar, this song no longer had a place. 

This article will be updated as these are received.

Update (9/8/2024) - Unfortunately, Salem's theme has been removed from SoundCloud.

A bit more of a specific question here. There's a song that you have released officially [echo for lillybug | Main Theme (Dark) for abyuse] that uses the royalty-free music from the novel [Look Forwards for lillybug | Pepper's Theme for abyuse]. How does that work? Do you have to go through any legal things in order to publish the music with the royalty-free sections? Go through the company to make sure it's good to be put online?

L: Honestly, I didn't really go through anything or ask the company/producer, which is a pretty big oversight now that I think about it. I mean the song isn't really big enough where I feel it will cause problems? But if some do arise from it I'll surely deal with it. My best guess is that it shouldn't be a huge deal because the song was royalty free, and I believe it falls under fair use because I changed it and put a different spin on it.

A: My lawyer has advised me to refrain from answering this question.

Have you read the visual novel yet? If so, when was the last time you did so? It could be while it was still in development, or after it was completed last year.

L: I definitely have! I've gone through it many times with friends, and more recently with my girlfriend Chaia! Not exactly sure when I played it last, I believe it was after the game was completed.

A: Yes… kind of. I followed the visual novel from update to update up until the end of Leo’s route. Then, school got in the way of things and now reading anything absolutely beats my ass and I can’t focus enough to consume literature in any form. I think, in total, I have read around half of Flynn’s route, none of Jenna’s, and then all of Leo’s, Carl’s, and TJ’s (which was the most recent, for me). 

If you have read it, do you have a favorite character? Favorite moment from any route? Favorite ending?

L: It's sad to admit, but I definitely have a soft spot for Leo. I like how complex of a character he is. I think one of my favorite moments in the game was at the end of TJ's route when they're hugging by the lake and pretty much it all gets revealed, that moment packed a punch and a half.

A: Cop out answer time, I like all characters in the VN that I have encountered (except Leo) for different reasons, but I think they’re all well written. If a gun were pointed to my head, though… I think that Kudzu, Brian, and Jenna are my favorites, in descending order.

I think my favorite moment in the VN was, and it’s been a while so you’ll have to forgive my inaccuracies, was the later part in Carl’s route where it took place on a spooky college campus. I just remember liking the vibe of that section a whole lot.

My favorite ending of those that I have read is definitely TJ’s. 

If you have read it, when you got to a part where your music was used, what was your first reaction like?

L: It was so crazy! When I first played the game through I sort of imagined having a track or something in the game, so seeing it come to fruition was definitely surreal.

A: It was surreal. There’s no other way to describe it. There are still moments where it doesn’t feel like it actually happened, it's hard to believe that so many people have heard my music, whether they know it or not. 

I had always dreamt of making music for something or someone other than myself, and Echo was the first time that really happened. It felt like I was driven by something other than personal enjoyment for once, and it made making music feel a lot more rewarding, and a lot less masturbatory.

Do you have any favorite memory with a fan of Echo talking to you about your music that you would like to share?

L: Not a specific one, but it always really warms my heart to see people talking about it fondly. Sometimes I'll get a ping from the Echo Project Discord about someone asking who made blurry, and it's just really sweet to see that people enjoy the song and others I've made as well. always brings a smile to my face.

A: I try to avoid extended conversations when possible so I don’t think I've really allowed myself to talk to pretty much anyone about my music. I did talk to shyno about my production but my answers were so immediately off the rails that I think that only reaffirmed that I don’t like talking. I like it when people enjoy my music though, it makes me smile.

Do you have any favorite memory while making your tracks? Discussions with the rest of the team, some 'lightbulb moment', anything that comes to mind.

L: I'd definitely have to say getting a message from McSkinny about putting echo, and blurry later on, in the game. It was such a sort of surreal moment to me, because I had sort of imagined it happening before, and then it really did happen!

A: Leo’s theme. It’s a bit of an interesting story. when your arms were around me is a pain point for me, I hate that song and I hate hearing it (it's not to say I wish it didn’t exist or whatever, I'm glad people like it. My producer ears just cannot stand it anymore). So, Theme for a Lonely Wolf was made because I was so frustrated with that song existing that I wanted to make something in the same vein, but better. I was not prompted to make this by McSkinny, nor was it made with any intention to be Leo’s theme. I just made it out of spite, and the end product ended up being one of the songs I am most proud of, out of everything I made for Echo. I sent it to McSkinny, he said he wanted to use it, I made a reprise because I wanted to try that out, and then next thing I know, it’s Leo’s theme. I don’t think I could have picked a better choice in terms of usage. As much as I personally dislike Leo, he’s one of the most prominent and polarizing characters of the visual novel, and since I was so proud of that song, I am happy it was given to such a figurehead.

Another one is a track that wasn’t actually in the VN (I think), Circles. That song is not only an emotional response to the entire TJ ending, but a personal illustration of how the ending sounded. It still isn’t finished in the state it’s in, but I put so much time into it that I feel like it wasn’t fair to leave it rotting away on my hard drive.

Is there anything else related to the project that you would like to share?

L: blurry wasn't originally going to be added to the game, McSkinny talked to me about adding echo first, and then listened to blurry and wanted that in the game on a whim too.

A: I don’t think there’s much else that I know or want to share that hasn’t been shared already.

A question for Lillybug - Your track blurry is a part of your EP i'm dreaming, and not a standalone track like echo is. Was blurry originally made for Echo? Or was it a track that was already made and just picked up for the novel?

L: Sort of both? It was written about Echo from Leo's perspective (and Chase's in the outro) but it wasn't made to go in the game, McSkinny just wanted to pick it up for the game. And since the source material was written about the game, I decided to say it was written for the game, rather than sourced outwards.

A question for Abyuse - You revealed on the Bandcamp page for your Echo tracks that you had originally lost the project files to the music. Is there more insight you would like to give with that situation? Any warning to musicians to prevent it from happening to others?

A: A few years ago I wanted to upgrade my PC because it was started to get dated. I bought a really nice prebuilt that I still use to this day, but I made the fatal error of not moving any of my music making files over because I was both at a point where I wasn’t making music (Destiny 2 had me by the neck) and I thought I could just get it later. Eventually, I decided I wanted those files back, but when I dug the computer out and plugged it in, the SSD the operating system was on was nuked, somehow. I gave up for about a year, thinking that I had just lost everything. I eventually decided to try and just install Windows from a USB onto a new SSD, and that ended up working. I still lost a lot of personal stuff but I got all my music files back. All that to say, don’t be an idiot like I was and back your work up onto an external hard drive.

Final question: is there anything you'd like to say in general? To any fans of the music, or anything you want to promote, the floor is all yours.

L: I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for your kind words! It all means so much to me. I've also got an album coming out soon, so stay tuned!

A: I don’t say this enough, but a massive thank you to not only everyone who has listened to my music, but supported me through Bandcamp. It is absolutely not necessary to do so, but I appreciate it immensely. Making music has always been nothing more than a passionate hobby of mine, and I honestly don’t want it to be anything more than that for the moment. Although I have slowed down quite a bit, I promise I am still making music. My latest album is all heavily inspired by games and media that have shaped me, and it currently sits at 29 tracks, with more that I'm working on right now. 

Thank you again to McSkinny and Howly for everything, working on Echo has been not only an extremely valuable experience artistically, but has helped me build confidence in my music tenfold. Appreciate that forever.

Thank you as well for this opportunity! It is a bit stressful to answer all this stuff accurately but I feel like after re-writing every answer five times I got what I wanted to say across.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Thanks so much to Lillybug and Abyuse once again for participating, and thank you for reading. It was so fun to learn something new about Echo, and I hope you enjoyed it too!

You can find Lillybug on Spotify and Soundcloud.

You can find Abyuse on Bandcamp and Soundcloud. You can also download his tracks for Echo here!

Next up: Here's How I Got 8 Copies of Bayonetta 1 (And Why I Wanted Them)

[windose20s]

HEY hi hello hey!!! here is a swap!celeste 4 u today!!!

pop sensation!celestia, 1/2 main best friends to my beloved detective!chihiro !! (her image is also updated because i forgot some formatting stuff on theirs)

backstory + misc design blurbs utc!

she paints chi’s nails sometimes :)

ok i’d like to preface this with the fact that i..didnt even skim her wiki page for this. to be fair why would i theres like! barely anything on there thats true anyways

so if i mischaracterize her sorry!!!! its probably a combo of me trying to make her a bit less like how she is in Canon (a little bit more likable on the surface. think how kyoko is generally reserved but isnt directly mean/rude! kinda like that) and how i understand her character solely through fanfic lol

anyways here it is ,, :

celestia has always owned a natural talent towards singing. she’d put on concerts in the living room during her younger years and even being placed in choir in the later years of elementary.

celestia grows to not quite like her parents, however, they were loud and rude to her about her (admittedly, outlandish) dreams of living comfortably as a rich woman with her cat.

they accepted her eccentricities when she was young, but as she grew older, they pressured her more and more to conform to what’s normal.

however, 15yo celeste, ripe in her gender transition and subsequent rebellion from what’s expected of her, does NOT care! she’s gonna do whatever the hell she wants, thanks!

she’s been saving her allowance to eventually get herself something big, something other than random junk she gets bored with in a week. she spends it all on cosmetics - she buys a long black wig with clip-on pigtails (certainly not to the size of her canon ones, more like cosplay wigs) and bleaches and dyes red streaks into it herself.

she buys a shitload of make-up with what’s left of the remaining money, following every tutorial she thinks she may needs in order to successfully give off the aura she desires. it’s good enough.

she’s never had a problem stealing her mom’s clothes - even if it means slaughtering and reincarnating them into a fashionable outfit with her average sewing skills.

she begins sneaking out at night - as much as she’d love to wave her rebellion in her parents’ faces, the last thing she needs is her belongings burned in an incinerator in an effort to make her stop.

she sings for crowds, whatever trashy pop song that’s latest hit the charts that they request she sing along to a youtube karaoke of. of course, she’s made a decent enough effort to keep up with what’s popular so she knows the tune of the songs she sings and how to sing them correctly.

eventually her talent is spotted and she’s scooped up by an agency, who agrees that her group should retain her aesthetics - she performs her best when she’s looking her best.

when chosing a stage name, she recalls the european royalty she shares her dreams of living in castles with, and how their lavish and respected lifestyle represents what she wishes she could have.

for some solace, she chooses the first distinctly european name that comes to mind (as she’s scrolled through wikipedia and behindthename in fits of boredom during school many a time) - celestia ludenberg. a fittingly extravagant name for someone like her, she thinks. she likes it.

over time she grows far too attached to it and it’s no longer just a stage name, it’s her name. at first she was fine with settling for the feminine version of her original name but it’s not quite for her. she makes a conscious effort to pressure any needed documentation on her to be changed respectfully.

the rest is old news, she blows up and gets famous, gets scouted (as she’s the group leader) yada yada

[speechlessxx]

my house of stone, your ivy grows & now i’m covered in you.

{King!Steve Rogers x noblewoman!Reader}

with a side of Prince/King!Peter Parker x Reader

ROYALTY/MEDIEVAL AU

summary -> engaged to the Prince of Arachnia, the young maiden finds her heart calling out the name of another. 

warnings-> infidelity. age gap! (reader’s age isn’t explicitly said but she’s younger than Steve). poorly & awkwardly written SMUT.  (includes: unprotected sex, brief fingering, slight breeding kink). rambles. angst. fluff. lots of tension. bittersweet ending :)  

A/N -> for smut part, please scroll if you are not 18+. MINORS DNI

word count -> 12k+ !!! this one’s a lengthy one & i had no intentions of turning it into a series. it just got long. 

Buy Me A Kofi

At the ripe age of five-years-old, you were plucked from your childhood, abandoning all the childish whims and adventures to be groomed to be the perfect wife. No more rolling in the dirt with your older brothers or mucking about the stables with the horses or fencing with sticks that substituted the steel bladed swords.

It all quickly became sewing needles and recipes, cleaning and books balanced on your crown.

You were taught it all.

How to behave. How to stand or sit. How to greet and host. How to exist in silence because “a lady is to be seen and never heard,” as your teacher, Madam Morris, would say. The many lessons were engraved into your mind while the meaningless tasks and skills became muscle memory.

Be pious. Be kind. Smile. Be what your husband wants. Laugh. (no, not like that). Do as your husband says. Be interesting but not too much. Never overshadow your husband. Don’t disappoint or you will bring shame upon your family.

What a burden to place on the shoulders of a young teen though it was expected of you. Coming from an aristocratic family, it was all you ever knew: “get a husband and make us proud”.

As the years droned on and you approached adulthood, the pressure to marry became more and more prominent. And when you shed past your teen years as an unmarried young adult, the disappointment and shame began to show. Your family throwing distaste your way with snide remarks and mocking smirks.

The embarrassment felt as if it had been painted across your cheeks and you grew restless, convincing yourself to accept any opportunities of marriage just to be rid of their cruelty.

So, when the Prince of Arachnia arrived at your father’s estate and asked for permission to court you, you had no choice but to accept.

Prince Peter Benjamin Parker was nothing short of the perfect gentleman. As you walked, he’d ensure that you were safely tucked into his side opposite of the streets. He’d hold your hand steady as you exited carriages. He’d leave chaste kisses on your forehead or knuckles – almost always on your left ring finger – even though your chaperone would throw a disapproving glance his way.

You thought of him as charming with his tousled, dark brown curls with matching eyes that squinted as he smiled or laughed harder than he intended.

“He would make a great king someday,” your father would sing his praises. “And you, my dove, will be his fine queen.”

You were never fond of these comments, never finding any appreciation or gratitude when they were uttered to you. Though the thought of being queen would make any young girl giddy with excitement, you found an odd sensation of dread within you.

You weren’t sure where the feelings had originated from. Were you nervous about being a queen? About the responsibility of running not only an estate but an entire country as well? Or was it the fact you would forever be labeled as his queen rather than the queen? Did you detest the idea of belonging to another person for the rest of your life?

“Are you alright?” His voice brought you back into the present. You swallowed as you turned away from the window facing the garden of roses that your mother was so proud of to face the prince. You curtseyed although he’s told you many times it was unnecessary.

“I’m grand,” you lied with a weary smile though he bought it all the same.

Peter grinned a toothy smile as he took your hand in his. It was then you felt the weight of the engagement ring on your finger. The sapphire blue was an oval shape, large enough to cover the skin of your knuckle. The center jewel adorned a halo of smaller diamonds. All this sitting on the delicate white gold band that wrapped around your finger like a shackle.

He brought your hand to his lips, placing a kiss upon the sapphire. “I shall be counting down the days,” he whispered in the quiet room. You forced another smile and nodded.

“As will I.”

»————-　⚜　————-«

Arachnia wasn’t a large country nor was it tiny either. It had eight main roads that extended into the towns with the capital and its palace in the center. It had been said that the main roads were all equal in length so that everyone was at an equal distance from the palace though you weren’t so sure that there was truth to this. Your father’s estate sat near the south of Arachnia, in one of the nicer towns. The ride to Peter’s real home felt like an eternity.

It had been his idea, of course, that you be brought to the palace months ahead of the wedding. “Life in the castle is different to life in the towns,” he told you before, weeks into your courtship, “Everyone’s always watching.” He reasoned that the prying eyes needed to get used to the presence of his future queen, but you understood it all the same – that although it was crucial that you adjust to court, it was equally, if not more so, important that the court adjust to you.

“I will give you the grand tour,” he said as you put your head on his shoulder. The journey, although short, had picked at your energy. All you wanted was to close your eyes and sleep, but his excited chatter kept pulling you back into consciousness. As much as you wanted to tell him to pipe down, you knew you couldn’t. Not only was he your husband to be, but he was also your soon to be king. “There’s fountains and gardens – I had them plant roses like the ones in your mother’s – “

The words became muddled nonsense as you slowly dozed off. The journey and your sleepless night, picking at the skin on your fingers, had finally caught up to you, making your eyelids heavy with sleep.

You jolted awake as the carriage hit a bump. You and Peter’s head slammed into each other, waking you both. You groaned, rubbing the spot as he mirrored you.

“You alright?” Peter asked you. You nodded, still rubbing the spot. Peter leaned over and kissed it and you gave him a tight-lipped smile. “You’ve been rather quiet. Is there something on your mind?”

You shook your head. “No, your highness,” you said. “I am just a bit nervous, is all.”

“Don’t be.” Peter chuckled. “The kingdom will fall in love with you just as I have.”

“And if they do not? Shall you find another bride?”

Peter’s smile faltered before shaking his head. “Those who do not immediately fall for my queen are mad and I shall find them the greatest court physician to treat their delusions.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You placed your head against his and took in a shaky breath.

There it was again. My queen. Another reminder that you no longer belonged to yourself. That as soon as vows are exchanged and he places another band on top of the enormous ring you already wore, you were completely his to own.

And suddenly that sweet moment, wrapped in your fiancé’s arms, was cut short as that familiar feeling of dread washed over you.

»————-　⚜　————-«

After weeks following your arrival in the center of Arachnia, it still didn’t feel like your home, rather it was Peter’s. The maids didn’t follow your orders nor did the kitchen staff. Heavens knows that the knights and the other noblemen wouldn’t acknowledge you. It felt as if no one knew your name, save for Prince Peter and his aunt, Lady May Parker.

You were merely a stranger in their court, the soon to be king’s guest.

Although the preparations for Peter’s coronation should’ve been your duty, Lady Parker seized the job, citing that you weren’t the queen just yet. “Let me alleviate you of this, Lady (Y/N).” She told you with a smile. “After your marriage, I shall step aside and allow you all the duties as the lady of the castle.” And in many ways, you were grateful that this was not your responsibility for the coronation of Prince Peter Parker had been long awaited for.

After Peter’s uncle, King Benjamin, passed and with Peter’s father long gone before then, the young prince was suddenly eyed to be the king. However, the councilmen thought that the boy was too young – too green to be king. They waited years until Peter came of age and once he finally did, they refused a peaceful transition of power. Instead, there were harsh rumors that the kingdom would be handed to Brooklyn’s King.

This debacle led to rumors of unrest and threats of civil war. It felt as if the entire continent held its breath as it stared at Arachnia, waiting for the violence to begin.

If King Anthony of Starken and Lady Parker did not intervene, then there would’ve been lives lost and a country torn. An agreement was made between House Parker and their council: that before Peter may take the throne, he must either be married or engaged, so that the line of succession may be secured.

And with your presence and Peter’s sapphire ring, the crown became his in an instant.

Nearly three weeks before his coronation, lords and ladies along with royals from other countries flocked to Arachnia to celebrate its king.

Lady Parker and Prince Peter introduced you to so many people in the coming days that none of their names truly stuck. All except one.

King Steven Rogers of Brooklyn.

The tall, broad man strode through the castle halls. His royal blue clothes made his eyes pop in the daylight. You thought he was beautiful. His presence demanded attention and he walked with a knowing smirk. Cocky. Arrogant. You profiled as he stood in front of Peter, towering over him.

Peter, still a prince, bowed to him as you did. “You’re younger than I expected.” The King’s voice was contradicting to his loud presence. His tone was even and steady like soft currents of a river or the expert strokes of a painter upon a canvas. You didn’t realize he was speaking to you until Peter called your name.

“King Steven, allow me to introduce my bride to be, Lady (Y/N).” Peter’s brow glistened with sweat though he stood tall. He was nervous. You could tell by the way his pitch was higher than it usually was. Under the king’s eye, he felt inferior. Insecure, even. Because although Peter was charming and slender, King Steven was intimidatingly handsome and built. Peter looked like a prince whereas Steven exuded the confidence of the king and looked like it, too.

You knew of the history between Brooklyn and Arachnia. There had been rumors that if Prince Peter could not get the crown, that the entire country would become part of Brooklyn’s, part of this other king’s domain.

“It’s a pleasure, my lady,” the king smiled at you and your eyes rounded as butterflies erupted from your stomach. He took your hand in his and you felt goosebumps rise all over your skin. A nervous, ragged breath escaped you as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss upon your knuckles like Peter’s done a million times.

But your reaction was different. Your face went hot, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You could feel it between your legs, a feeling you had never felt before. Pulsing. Throbbing.

King Steven’s hand lingered over yours for a few seconds more, thumb grazing your skin and over the sapphire. You suddenly felt embarrassed – as beautiful as the ring was, it was so large that it looked odd on your dainty hand.

“Beautiful ring,” he complimented with a nod to Peter. “Excellent taste.” It wasn’t clear if the king was complimenting the ring or the young woman who wore it and no one dared question such a distinguished man.

You pulled your hand away from his with a bow of your head. You couldn’t look him in the eye for a second more. “Thank you for joining us, your majesty.”

The king smiled at your fiancé before nodding. “I look forward to your coronation, Peter. I’m sure it’ll be a pleasant event.”

You forced a smile as you and your fiancé greeted the next guest. The pleasantries and introductions fell upon deaf ears because as you looked up, searching through the crowd, your eyes immediately found his already staring back at you.

»————-　⚜　————-«

It felt as if there was a party every single day. A festival in the courtyard. A feast every night. You began to wonder where was all this money coming from – were the people being taxed heavily for the enjoyment of the upper class? Lady Parker assured you that Arachnia was well funded and that where the expenses exceeded their budget, they were handled by King Anthony, who considered it an early marriage present.

You sat like a decorated ornament next to Peter, surrounded by the other royals at a round table. You felt out of place in a gown made from your town’s finest tailor whereas the queens and princesses around you wore one-of-a-kind pieces. You were reminded, again, that you were just an aristocrat’s daughter, the fiancé of a king sitting among the men and women that bards wrote songs about.

You felt as if you were set to be the butt of the joke in another round of ridicule as King Anthony drew his attention from teasing Peter to you.

“You,” he began, words a bit slurred due to the ale in his overflowing cup, “are very gorgeous. My love,” he directed to his wife, Queen Virginia, “don’t you agree?”

“Yes, you are a delight, Lady (Y/N).” The strawberry blonde smiled at you. You returned the smile, timidly.

“Likewise, your majesty,” you returned before nodding your head to the rest of the table. “All of you are wonderful.” Truthfully, many of their names went over your head and to save yourself the embarrassment, you refrained from calling any of them by name, only saying simple titles like your majesty and my lord or lady.

“Lady (Y/N),” the princess from the foreign land, Sokovia you think, called your attention. You believe her name was Wanda, or at least that was what the King of Hawksview called her. “Are you excited for whatever adventures marriage will bring you?” Her tone was drunk and teasing. It was clear what she was alluding to though you weren’t quite sure if you caught on.

“Oh, dear,” Peter chuckled, awkwardly, obviously understanding. His face a beet red as he patted your hand that sat on your lap. “Dove, you do not need to answer.”

“Dove?” King Steven, the one man you knew by name, questioned from across the round table. He sat directly in front of you and you swore he sat there deliberately.

“It’s what my father calls me,” you explained though your voice was a bit scratchy, your throat dry. You coughed before taking a sip from your barely touched ale, finding the taste quite revolting. You shifted uncomfortably in the seat as you felt the prying eyes of the Brooklyn King stare through you as if you were glass.

“Dove.” He repeated, trying the petname out. “Sweet. Innocent.”

“Oh, you stop teasing, Steve,” the woman with dark red hair rolled her eyes. You remembered her being called Nat though you did remember her from your history lessons. Queen Natalia Romanova of Widow’s Peak, the queen who paved the way for women on the battlefield. She was revered and you were in awe when you met her.

“If we’re teasing, shall we jest about how Steven has yet to marry?” The prince from Asgard laughed. He pushed his long black hair over his shoulder as his older brother, the blonde – the King – swatted at his forearm with the back of his hand as if to say be quiet.

Steven smirked, eyes shifting to his lap, before chuckling. “Laugh and tease all you want,” he said, grabbing his cup and bringing it to his lips.

“Why is it you haven’t married?” Queen Natasha’s husband, Bruce – you think – asked.

Attention shifted back to Brooklyn’s king as he shrugged, taking another swig from his cup. His eyes darted around the table as if gaging – studying – the group.

You found it odd. Many of the royals around you considered the others their closest friends, yet here he was, a mystery to them still. It was as if he was content with going unseen and unheard. You could understand.

“C’mon, Stevie,” King Anthony taunted with a pet name. The blonde’s jaw tensed for a moment but quickly released. You frowned at that – was there tension between the two kings? “Handsome, wealthy king with vast holdings and a powerful kingdom, yet no marriage? It’s like you’re not trying, Steven.”

The Brooklyn king chuckled again, brows lifting with an amused look. His eyes met yours and you felt your face go hot again. Your gown shifted underneath the table as your knee bumped Peter’s when you crossed your legs. He looked away.

“I would not get married simply because I need a crown,” his eyes shifted to Peter before shifting back to his cup, “or I need an alliance, or my country requires finances or resources. Brooklyn’s striving under my rule.” He said it so calmly and smugly as if he weren’t throwing condescending comments about his friends’ marriages right in front of them.

“If I were to get married,” Steven’s ocean eyes met yours again like the waves crashing into a shore, “it would be because I’m in love.”

You shifted in your seat, that pulsing, throbbing ache returning as you held his stare. You bit your lip before nervously breaking the eye contact to pick at the bread roll on your plate.

You suddenly jumped when Peter draped his arm around your shoulder, completely unaware that he was about to do so, too preoccupied to appear occupied. He shot you a worried glance, but you gave him a tight smile and a nod.

“Well, I, for one,” he smiled, “am marrying for love.” Peter pressed a kiss to your temple, and you felt your smile drop for a second. Just a mere second – maybe even less.

No one noticed, you assured yourself with a relieved exhale. You scanned the round table to find that everyone smiled at you and your fiancé with dopey grins, staring at the two children in love. However, Steven’s was different.

No… The king had a knowing smirk on his face as if to say, I saw.

»————-　⚜　————-«

With the coronation in a fortnight, you and Peter found yourselves on edge. Your shoulders always felt tense which left an ache in your neck, leaving you to rub out the knots but to no avail.

Peter’s nerves made him jittery. During meals, his leg bounced up and down with nerves. The sudden movement often shaking the table, leaving you in an annoyed silence. To cope with his pending coronation nerves, the young prince whisked himself into meaningless tasks and hobbies in hopes to distract himself.

Unfortunately, this meant that he often left you to yourself, leaving you to dwell in your unease on your own.

You confided in Lady Parker about your nerves though she returned your concern with a small frown. “You aren’t getting coronated, why are you nervous?” She chuckled dismissively. You nearly snapped then but was able to stop yourself before saying anything offensive to Lady Parker.

Deciding that your thoughts were better left unsaid, you isolated yourself in the stairwell on the south wing of the castle. In your time here at Arachnia, this quickly became your favorite spot. The south wing was nowhere near the bustling crowds of guests and their parties, making it the quietest place in the castle at times. There was a wide window that stood above the stairs; it brought in gorgeous sunlight and you often found yourself basking in its warmth.

However, with your troubled thoughts, the south wing stairwell’s window brought you no comfort at all as you gnawed on the bump on the inside of your cheek. It was a habit you picked up when you were being taught to be a lady – a lady is to be seen and never heard – so you opted to biting back your opinions and retorts, whether it be physical or metaphorical.

Though Lady Parker was right, the coronation was Peter’s worry alone, it would not only be Peter that would be judged and watched by the entire continent the moment that crown is on his head. Even now as a mere lady, the fiancé of their soon to be king, you were burdened with such scrutiny and you were sure that this would only increase three-fold once Peter was crowned king.

The pressures would only worsen once you were dubbed Peter’s queen.

So, you sat pensively in your thoughts near the top of the stairs as you enjoyed the last few months of peace you had left.

“For an engaged woman, I do find you alone too many times,” a voice took you from your thoughts as it carried through the empty stairwell. You looked up and met the amused smirk of King Steven Rogers.

You stood up from your spot and found your footing at the top of the staircase before you curtseyed. “Your majesty,” you greeted.

“Most brides tend to cling to their fiancé, fighting to be by their side every waking moment,” the king mused, quirking an eyebrow up, “but not you.”

“I suppose.”

“May I?” He gestured to the unoccupied seat next to you. You bit your lip before nodding, sitting down again, but this time with the king’s warmth next to you. “Is something on your mind, Lady (Y/N)?”

“No, your majesty,” you said a bit too quickly and he saw through you.

He tutted, knowingly. “I know a troubled lady when I see one,” he pressed. “Please, my lady, speak freely as if I am just a friend.”

“I hadn’t realized I was friends with a king,” you muttered. You felt his eyes on you as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and stared at your lap.

The conversation stilled as the silence built, but you found comfort in the king’s presence. Although his eyes made you uneasy and nervous, he brought you a strange sense of peace.

His soft chuckle pulled you from your thoughts again. “Lady (Y/N).” He said your name and you glanced over at him with a brow cocked up. “I noticed that you don’t speak, not often, at least.”

“I was taught to never speak unless spoken to.”

He scoffed. “That’s a habit that you’ll grow out of.” He saw confusion flash through your expression and smiled, gently. “A strong, respected queen demands attention as she enters a room. Every step she takes must be a stride of confidence so that no one ever questions her status.”

“A status that my husband, the king, gives me. I cannot over-step. I would undermine him.”

“Peter’s a king,” Steven corrected. “I never said you would over-step, but a true king would ensure that he and his queen are in equal footing.” He cocked his head to the side as he noticed your grimace. “You don’t like that.”

“I beg your pardon?” You asked before quickly added, “your majesty.”

“Being called his queen,” he clarified with a smile.

Panicked, you began, “I am humbled to wear his ring on my finger – that he considered me for marriage and that – “

“You are not on trial,” he interrupted, quickly with a laugh. “It’s merely an observation.” You nodded, awkwardly. “In my opinion, I feel as if a marriage – any marriage, whether royal or otherwise – is a partnership, but unfortunately, many see it as an ownership.”

“That’s just not how our society sees it.” You muttered with a shake of your head.

“Where is your fiancé? It’s too often that I find you alone. I shall share a word with him about his manners.” He joked and you laughed lightly at his attempt to lighten the mood.

You sighed, fidgeting with the sapphire on your finger. “He’s … preoccupied.”

Steve frowned at that but abruptly stood, stretching his hand out to you. “Then, come, my lady, I shall escort you to the festival to enjoy this beautiful day.”

Your hands flew to your face as you shook your head, defiantly. “Oh, god no!” You groaned. He amusedly raised his eyebrows at you. “I hate leaving the castle to join the others… Everyone just stares at me. It’s unsettling!”

Steve laughed and leaned down to pull you to your feet. Although you stood at the top of the staircase and he a few steps beneath you, he was still taller than you.

“They’re admiring their future queen,” he tried. He took your hands in his and you felt a shiver run down your spine as the goosebumps rose. “And from where I stand, I must say, she is truly a vision… Even if she’s moping.”

The butterflies didn’t cease to exist as they fluttered excitedly under his stare. You bit your lip and avoided eye contact, staring at your hands clasped in his. His words lifted your confidence, but his presence made you nervous and you didn’t quite understand why.

He whispered your name; fingers reaching out beneath your chin and lifted your chin. Blue eyes staring deep into your wide ones and for a split second he glanced down at your lips.

“You can tell me to stop.”

He was so close to you. Your noses were nearly touching.

“What if I don’t want you to?” You whispered. You held your breath, but he gladly stole it as he pressed his soft, plump lips onto yours.

You swore it was almost instinct… It had to be. You moved in sync. With your lips pressed against his, you felt this feeling of belonging – something you hadn’t felt in all your time in the palace of Arachnia, in all your life. In all your time spent with Peter, it never felt like this.

Your hands fisted his dirty blonde hair as his hands cupped your face, holding you there… keeping you in the moment and you swore time stopped.

You were breathless when you finally pulled away. Eyes wide in realization.

You had just given your first kiss away to a man that wasn’t your fiancé and there was no ounce of regret in either of you.

»————-　⚜　————-«

Time passed so slowly when all you’d wish for was that it’d up – skipping to a time where you and Peter were already married and the royals have all vacated Arachnia and back to their own lands, where the king that occupied your mind was long gone.

In the days that followed, you avoided each like the plague. You’d turn the corner and see Peter then immediately turn the other way or you’d bow your head down so low so that you could avoid Steven’s fixated stare as you passed him in the corridors.

The only time you couldn’t escape the two was during meals. Although during breakfast and lunch you usually spent alone, it was during the feasts of dinner that you could not escape the lingering stare of King Steven nor the possessive arm of Prince Peter.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Peter whispered in your ear. You were guilt-ridden as you stared at the concern that filled his deep brown eyes. You muttered that you were alright just a bit tired although under the king’s eyes you have never felt more alive. But he accepted your answer nonetheless.

“Are we interrupting,” teased King Anthony with a playful grin. “Shall we order the absence of everyone in the room so that you two may have all the privacy in the world?” His wife slapped his shoulder with a chuckle as you and Peter bashfully apologized – Peter because he was truly embarrassed for being caught whispering in your ear and you because you felt Steven’s eyes staring through your soul. “Tell us, Lady (Y/N), how did such a lovely lady such as yourself end up with a brute of a prince like Peter?”

You swallowed as all their attention turned to you. You stared across the table at King Steven who eyed you with a smirk. His elbows rested on the table with his hands clasped together, head resting on top of his knuckles, as if taunting you, egging you on. You tore your eyes away as you focused on your lap.

“Well… uh – “

“We met at her brother’s party,” Peter announced, proudly. You took your cue and nodded with a small grin and kept silent. “My father and hers were friends before he passed, and so they invited my aunt and I. We had no choice but to accept, and thankfully, we did. She was truly a sight, this one.” You forced a laugh as the other chuckled. “I knew then she had to be mine, this little dove.”

You grimaced but quickly covered it up by grabbing your cup of untouched ale. Your eyes flicked over to Steven who was already staring at you. He cocked an eyebrow up at you as your eyes met. You brought the ale to your lips and he stared as your lips pressed against the rip of the chalice but never drank anything.

The conversation drifted to another topic, but you excused yourself, telling Peter you were exhausted. He nodded with a smile and leaned in to kiss you and your eyes widened, turning your head – had he wanted your first kiss to be in front of all these people? Marking you as his? His lips pressed against your cheek and you muttered goodbye to him and bid a goodnight to the others.

You wondered aimlessly throughout the corridors, lost in your thoughts. With everyone in the grand hall for dinner, the castle was felt empty, and your shoes clicked against the tiles and echoed through the halls. After minutes of silent walking, you felt the hairs at the back of your neck prick up and goosebumps run down your arms.

You turned to find the dark hallway staring back at you. You frowned before you turned and ran into a sturdy build of a man.

“I thought you retired for the night?” and you recognized the voice immediately.

“Your majesty,” you whispered, bowing awkwardly to King Steven.

He chuckled as you apologized frantically. He shushed you, seizing your hands but you snatched them away. Steven frowned. “You’re avoiding me.”

“What happened shouldn’t have happened,” you hissed.

A playful smirk replaced his scowl as he tilted his head, tauntingly. “But you could’ve stopped me. You could’ve said no.”

“Of course,” you chuckled dryly. “It’s always the woman’s fault. Men can never take responsibility for their misdoings and kings,” you spat out as if it were poison on your tongue. “are no better.”

“Was it your first kiss?”

Your tongue darted out and wet your bottom lip and you didn’t miss the way his eyes glanced down. Embarrassment washed over you like a wave as your shoulders slumped. Were you that bad?

“It was, wasn’t it?” He smiled. “I wouldn’t have known… but you were a natural – “

“Don’t flatter me.” You snapped and he laughed.

“So, I had the honor of being your first kiss…” He muttered. Steven’s hand grabbed your bicep, which was significantly smaller than his, and pulled you closer to him.

“Your majesty – “He shushed you as he kissed you again in that corridor, but you pulled away abruptly, not allowing yourself to melt into him. “We can’t. I am engaged to the prince.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “But you don’t want to be. Others may dismiss it as nerves, cold feet, even, but,” he tsked, “I know better.”

“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me.”

“I know enough.” He whispered. “Enough to know that I want you.”

“I have to be married to the prince. I wear his ring. I live in his castle.”

“And enjoy a loveless marriage? He can dote on you and you can learn to love him, yes… I’ve seen it in my parents’ union and in my friends’, but you’ll never truly be happy, no…” He told you, brows furrowed and shook his head.

“And I’d be happy as your mistress?” You scoffed, shaking your head, but you made no motions to step away. “A noblewoman reduced to nothing but a king’s play-thing? The dishonor, the shame – “

“I never said you’d be my mistress.” Steven shook his head as he cupped your jaw.

“And you intend to marry me?” You laughed as if he had said the funniest joke you’ve ever heard. And it was. It was hilarious to think that he was being anything but truthful. You were sure he was jesting with you. Empty words. Empty promises. But his stare was serious.

“I want you.”

“You want the idea of me,” you corrected. “The idea that you can take another king’s wife. Kings throughout history are all the same. Covet another man’s wife, his property, or his land. Just to prove you are better.” You shook your head. “It’s a pissing contest for you. It’s treason for me.”

“I am a king.” He told you and you rolled your eyes.

“Not mine.” You whispered. “Your teasing, your jokes. Your eyes… they linger in a way only Peter’s should, and it has to stop.”

“I want you.” He repeated. “And I know you want me, too.”

“I don’t – “

“Or else you would’ve walked away. You could’ve pulled your arm from me – I’m not holding onto you tightly. You could’ve run off to your little prince, but you’re avoiding him, too. Is it guilt, my lady?” He asked you, leaning down and whispering into your ear. Your breath hitched as his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, kissing the skin beneath it. “Because you know you don’t want the boy… but you’re too kind to hurt him.”

“You’re trying to get me killed.” You stifled a moan as his lips left a trail of wet kisses down your neck. “Shunned and humiliated – “

“I want to be yours,” he confessed.

A sudden burst of laughter had you jump from each other. Your back pressed against the wall as he took a step back with a smirk. In the distance, you could hear drunken men and their courtesans stumble about the castle, doors slamming shut. The feast must’ve been over, and the halls were soon to be crowded again.

You two held each other’s stares as you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The moonlight that slipped through the curtains of the windows had his deep blue eyes gleaming and he was marvelous view.

»————-　⚜　————-«

The room was stuffy and the jewelry that adorned your neck and wrists were heavy. They weighed you down as if to remind you of the pressures that your new life held – what lay ahead of you. The dress you wore was a combination of white and gold. You looked regal like the betrothed of a king should look like. You stood in the crowd next to King Anthony and his wife, behind you was King Steven and his piercing stare.

The feelings that you held for Steven were wrong and you knew that. You often wished that Peter had been flawed – an unfaithful man or a cruel one but he was the opposite. He was kind and gentle albeit a bit dismissive or not present at times. The guilt gnawed at you each time you and the Brooklyn king met behind closed doors, or in the secluded library, or in the depths of the rose garden, planted especially for you by Peter’s order, but you didn’t care.

It was innocent, really – at least that’s what you told yourself. The meetings always started the same. Bickering and joking. He had even taken an interest in tutoring you about chess – “a game for kings,” he would say. Although he had beat you every game, you never minded because all the meetings ended the same – with your lips pressed against his and you melting into his touch.

The crowds all stood as Peter entered the throne room. He was dressed as a king in his house colors – red, blue, gold. He was sweaty and his hands were clasped together nervously. He shot a glance your way as he walked by and you gave him a soft, encouraging nod. He returned it with a smile as he kneeled before the throne.

The priest slipped a ring on his finger and he was later handed the scepter and the orb. You caught the way the scepter slipped due to his clammy hands – not too much but just enough to have him fumble. Behind you, you heard Steven chuckle and you shot him a look as if to tell him to behave and he shook his head at you with a grin.

The crown was placed onto Peter’s head and he hesitantly stood. He was unbalanced, weighed down, but he took each step towards the throne with stride and a proud smile.

“Long live the king!” You and the entire crowd chanted in unison though you were almost certain that Steven didn’t say a word.

The party held afterwards was filled with dancing and music, but you were tied to Peter’s side the entire evening as he thanked his guests and accepted their congratulations, all eager to get in favor with their new king.

Instead of the usual round table, Peter and his family – Lady Parker and you – were seated in a long table at the front of the grand hall. The rest of the royals scattered in other tables near yours. You picked at your food, boredom sinking in as another nobleman approached.

You glanced up and met Steven’s eyes. He brought his chalice up as if to salute you and you softly laughed before turning your attention to the duke. The conversation was dull with fake pleasantries and complaints of lost land – Peter promised the duke that he would look into it. You remembered Steven tell you that kings should make no promises that he could not uphold. and you wondered if Peter had any intentions of honoring it.

“Do you want to dance?” Peter asked you after the man left, offering you his hand. You smiled and nodded, taking it.

He pulled you onto the dancefloor, joining the other couples. Peter’s hold on you was tight as if you would run away or disappear. The crown on his head was just a little big and would slip over his forehead. You’d giggle and push it back up.

He pulled you close to him and swayed to the music. “This is grand,” he told you. “The crown, a beautiful bride.” You hummed in agreement though you didn’t entirely adore the idea – not as much as you used to. You hated being compared to that awful crown as if you were just an accessory to him. “And … In a few days’ time, my dove, we are to be wed.”

“What?” You shook your head with a dry laugh, taking it as a joke. “Your high – majesty,” you corrected, and he beamed at the title, “we are set to be married in the late spring. Not in a few days.”

Peter frowned. “Had no told you?” You shook your head, no. He sighed. “I suppose I should’ve… The council believes that it’s best we get married immediately. Now, that I’ve got the crown, they say I need heirs,” you blanched at the idea, “and besides, the other royal families of Marvel are already here.” Your breath hitched as the realization set it. “Well, aside from King Steven, he’s one to never attend weddings.”

“Peter – “you shook your head. The panic beginning to rise. Despite being trained for this very day since you were young, you were convinced you weren’t ready. You told yourself the anxiety was from the idea of being queen, but the truth was – the anxiety was from the idea of being wed… to Peter.

“May I cut in?” You didn’t hear Peter’s response just that a pair of familiar hands seized yours and your waist, pulling you flush against his body. “Are you okay?”

You stared up at Steven’s worried eyes, brows lifted and lines of concern all over his forehead. You shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes. You hated the idea that you would be Peter’s completely, and that Steven would never be yours.

“Peter said we are to be wed in a few days,” you uttered. The words didn’t feel right. Your voice was shaking as you held back your tears. Steven’s jaw dropped before he nodded. “Steve,” his eyes stared into yours, “I don’t want this.”

“And what is it do you want?” Steven asked you. He was hopeful although naively so. And in many ways, you were as well to believe that your affections for Steven could extend to something more. But reality set in, you were engaged to a king – just not the king you wanted.

“I want to marry you,” you confessed though voice hushed, afraid that any ears would hear your treasonous words. You let out a shaky breath as you stared at him before shaking your head. The idea that you fell in love with a man after knowing him for only three weeks was preposterous. “Or at least… that I want to be with you.”

Steven smiled softly at your confession – words he had been hoping to hear ever since he cornered you in the empty hallway. He leaned in and your eyes widened, but he brought his lips to your ear and whispered, “keep your chamber doors unlocked tonight.”

»————-　⚜　————-«

One of the peculiar things about your move to Arachnia’s palace was your bedroom. It was rather enormous for the fiancé of the now king. When you first arrived, you expected a room modest in size though not as big as this – especially since you’d move into Peter’s chambers once you were married. The mattress was pressed against the back wall between two large windows that never opened. Bookshelves filled with novels though no work area – no desk or study. Instead, you were given a vanity. Besides those pieces, the room was pure empty space.

You used to joke to yourself that you were just a prisoner who adorned the prince’s, now king’s, jewels and a fine title.

You stood by the window, watching the fireworks that celebrated the coronation. You swore you could see the towns in the distance, all lit up with anticipation. Peter would soon be making his rounds throughout the country as its official king. Would it happen before you were married or after? Would you be asked to join him as his queen?

You stared down at your ring finger. The sapphire staring tauntingly back at you. It shackled you to a man you didn’t want. It reminded you of your family’s side eyes and low whispers when you didn’t immediately get married once you were of age, or the hushed voices and stares of the other nobles as they judged your every move calling you unworthy to marry a prince, let alone a king.

And all you could think was – to hell with it all.

A soft knock was heard from the wooden door of the chamber and you walked towards it. The stone tiles were cold against your bare feet and the doorknob even colder against your already freezing hand. With a twist of the doorknob, a smile formed on your lips as Steven came to view.

You hurriedly pulled him inside, eyes scanning the now empty hallway, before closing it.

He eyed you up and down and smiled, admiring you – hair undone and natural, face free of any makeup or colors staining your cheeks or lips, no gown with a corset that clung onto your body that left you with no room to breathe.

You were beautiful and oh, how he’d kill to see you like this every day.

“Did anyone see you?” You asked him, softly, though within the thick walls of the castles and in the privacy of your chambers no one would hear you.

Steven shook his head, one hand finding your waist and the other cupping the side of your face. “They never do, do they?” He whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

You pulled away, leaning into his chest, settling into his warmth. You loved being in his embrace – it was safe and warm like a small cottage in the countryside with no judgmental stares or rumors whispered about.

You realize you could live like this until your last day – and with your intentions, that final day might be quickly approaching. “Why is it you asked to meet me here?”

Steven’s jaw ticked. Truthfully, he had no real answer. He could’ve asked to meet anywhere, and the risks were just the same. The mere act of meeting you in private was damning, no matter what he intended.

He thought that admiring you from across a crowded room, under the cover of hundreds all staring at you, too, would be enough. He thought his eyes would go unnoticed. He told himself that his attraction would be fleeting, but it wasn’t – and it became clear the moment he pressed his lips against yours at the top of the south stairwell.

“Steve?”

He sighed. “I… I’m not quite sure if I’m honest with you, Lady (Y/N).”

You smiled to yourself. In the time you’ve known King Steven, he had always been so smug, so confident. Every step had a direction and every word so sure, but you’ve reduced him to a man begging for the affection of a woman.

You pulled yourself from his chest and stared up at him before you stood on the tips of your toes to press a kiss onto his lips.

It was as if you two were molded together or made from the same cloth. Lips pressed together as if they had always belonged there.

His large hands found the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up, wrapping your legs around his tapered waist. You felt the heat rise to your face when that familiar throbbing feeling between your legs came back – and with your cunt pressed against the middle of his body, you were sure he could feel it, too.

Your back pressed against the soft, silk sheets of your bed. Steven draped over you like ivy covering the castle’s stone walls.

The framework creaked beneath your combined weight as he began to grind aimlessly against your center, eliciting a gasp from you as it helped the ache from deep within you.

He smirked into the kiss, but you caught him off guard yet again when you whispered, “I – I want you.” He pulled away, taken back. “I want all of you, Steve, please – “

“(Y/N) – “

He began to climb off you, but you sat up, hands cupping his face and staring deep into his eyes. You shook your head as you gave him a quick kiss.

Foreheads touching, you told him, “if I am to go marry and live in this hell, I might as well be granted a taste of heaven.”

“You will be ruined – “he whispered though the idea made his cock twitch in his trousers. You jumped as you felt it too.

You shook your head again, “how can you ruin anything, Steve?”

Steve licked his lips as he tried to fight off his morals. The devil and the angel on his shoulders disappeared and became one – the beautiful maiden beneath him, begging for him to take her.

“If we do this,” he whispered as he nudged your cheek, lips kissing your jaw, “there will be no going back, (Y/N).”

“I want to be yours, Steve,” you told him, honestly. “I – I love you.”

And that’s all it took to have his lips ravish yours, hands roaming, desperately grabbing on to what he could. He pulled away and grabbed your hand. He slid the ring off your finger, tossing it onto the table next to your bed before he pressed his lips to yours once again.

You heard a rip and you gasped as the cold air hit your bare skin. Steven’s hands pushed the torn fabric off away from your body, throwing the ruined white silk behind his shoulder.

He pulled away from you, admiring the view beneath him – the woman spread out before him like an offering, nipples perked in the cold winter air, mouth ajar as she panted, and the perfect, untouched pussy.

“I love you, too.”

He began to undress, and you couldn’t take your eyes off this Herculean being in front of you. He was thick and broad, the muscles that were arranged all over his body were hypnotizing as were the scars undoubtfully from all his training and his time spent in wars.

He was a god in the body of the king, and you wondered how you got so lucky.

Steven began to undo the strings that held his pants up and you watched with you lip between your teeth. The anticipation, alone, killed you. He pushed down his pants and your eyes widened at his massive cock – tanner than the rest of his skin, with a red angry tip, thick veins, and clear liquid coming from it.

He saw your uncertain expression and he raised his brows at you. “I – I –“you began to stammer.

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out now, little one,” Steven whispered. His hands reached out and cupped your cheek, hungry eyes scanned your body and your mouth went dry. The throbbing within you was relentless and made you clench your thighs together. “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes looked away, bashfully, as his hands explored you – cupping your breasts and tracing the curves of your body. All Steven wanted was for all of you to be his.

“Look at me,” he whispered, and you hesitantly looked back at him. He had a soft smile and adoring eyes as his fingers slipped through your folds. You let out a soft gasp and your eyes fluttered closed as the ache was relieved by his touch. “Look at me,” Steven repeated, and you forced your eyes open to stare at him. Your lover smirked as he found your small bundle of nerves and rubbed tight circles around it.

It felt as if something within you had blossomed and you couldn’t help but grind into his touch, but he tutted at you, using his free hand to hold your hips down. “You’re soaked, my love,” Steven whispered, leaning down, and nipping at the base of your neck. Hard enough for you to gasp but not enough to leave marks. “Already so wet and I’ve yet to do anything.”

“It’s just my reaction to you,” you confessed, heat rising to your face.

You tried to avert your eyes away from his piercing stare, but he tsked and pinched your inner thigh. You hissed in return and brought your stare back to him. “Don’t make me tell you again, (Y/N),” Steven warned.

You nodded, speechless as his fingers wandered further down, ghosting over your untouched opening. You let out a shaky breath.

“Steven – “you moaned as he sunk one long, thick, skilled finger inside of you.

“You’re so tight,” the king noted with a smirk. He relished in the idea that he would be the first to have you and he wished that he’d be the only one to have you forever.

“Steven, I want you… Please – “

He tsked at you with a quick shake of his head. His lips pressed against yours again, silencing your soft whines and protests. “I need to open you up, my love,” he told you, lips still against yours, “or else you might get hurt.” He pressed another finger into you, and you pulled away from his lips.

The back of your head pressed against the mattress as another moan escaped you. The king began to scissor your opening. The stretch was tolerable though still uncomfortable and had your breath shuddering.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised you, nose tracing your jaw. His lips kissed the column of your throat.

You groaned when his fingers began to thrust, opening you up to him. You heard the faint sound of your arousal on his fingers, the wetness spilling onto your thighs, too. Your hands tangled up into the king’s long, dark blonde hair, pulling him into you as he added a third finger, effectively stretching you out.

“Are you alright?” He asked you, fingers thrusting into you in a rhythm of their own. You nodded, eyes staring at the top of the canopy over your bed and hands pushing the king flush against you’re the joint between your neck and shoulder. He kissed the skin there, trying not to suck on it to leave you with his marks – marks that young Peter would undoubtfully see on your wedding night.

You gasped as you felt this tightening knot in the depths of your stomach. “You almost there, my love?” Steven asked and you nodded though you weren’t sure where there was. Your thighs tightened around him. You whined when his fingers left your heated core right on the precipice of pleasure, leaving you with an emptiness. Steven chuckled.

“I was – “

“First time you get to cum will be around my cock,” he told you brazenly and it felt as if your entire body flushed at his words. He brought his fingers to his lips and your eyes widened when he began to suck on them, and he groaned. “You taste so sweet, my lady.” The king quirked up an eyebrow at your curious expression as he swiped his fingers against your lips. “Have a taste, my love.”

Your tongue reluctantly darted out over your lips, gathering the sweet yet musky taste of your essence. Your hand reached out, wrapping around his wrist and bringing his fingers to your mouth. Your lips wrapped around his index and middle finger and sucked carefully as he did, and you felt his cock twitch against your thigh at the sight.

He watched you intently as you cleaned off his fingers, his free hand stroking his throbbing dick. He swiped the tip against your slit, causing your body to shudder when he bumped your clit.

He took his fingers from your mouth and both hands held your waist. Instinctively, your pushed your knees further apart, opening up to him. Steven’s blue eyes flicked up to you as he pressed his tip against your heat.

“Are you sure?” He asked you.

You nodded. “I’ve never been more sure.”

You threw your head back as he began to press into you, the pressure unbearable and made your entire body tense. The king began to hush you, holding still. One of his hands caressed the side of your face, combing through your hair. “You need to relax, my love,” he cooed.

You muttered an incoherent agreement as you tried to will your muscles to loosen. You heard the squelching sound of your cunt engulfing the man, slowly. Your hand flew to his wrist and grabbed onto it, unsure of what to do.

He praised you as the tip slipped in along with an inch or two, but he was nowhere close to bottoming out. The king began to pull back, only leaving the tip in before pushing in more of him. You hissed again as he pressed past the thin veil of your innocence, being the first and only man to tear through it.

His cock was no match for his fingers, being much thicker and so much longer. You tried to even your breathing and he chuckled. “You’re doing so well, my love,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your lips. “Taking me so well… Look…”

His nose nudged the side of your cheek and you slowly craned your neck to look down as he bottomed out completely – his public bone flush against your clit. Your mouth watered at the sight as he slowly pulled out an inch or two. You took a sharp breath when you saw the faint strips of red on his length.

The king began to rock into you slowly and you couldn’t take your eyes away from where you were connected. The pain, although still there from the burning stretch, was incomparable to the pleasure when his tip brushed against a certain part of your canal.

You moaned, loudly, head thrown back, exposing your throat to him. Steven kissed the hollowness before capturing your lips in his. “I love you,” he murmured into the kiss as his hips began to speed up. Your own matching his thrusts.

The sound of skin clapping against each other echoed throughout the enormous room and you felt yourself clench against him.

He groaned in return. In one quick motion, the king hoisted your knees over his shoulder, giving him a much deeper angle to take you from. He thrusted so hard and so deeply that you swore you felt him in your chest.

You moaned his name as your hands grabbed your breasts. He watched with a smirk as you fondled yourself and one of his hands began to rub tight circles around your swollen clit again. Your back arched at the sensation.

“I’m gonna fill you up, my love,” he told you. “Have you fall pregnant with my child. Watch you swell…” It was a fantasy, on Steven’s behalf. He’d always wanted a wife and children but never found the right partner until you. “Do you want that, little one? Do you want my children?”

“I want you, Steven,” you moaned. No coherent thoughts were forming as the familiar tight knot in your stomach suddenly snapped. Your hips ground up against his as your walls tightened around the king, milking him, and pushing him over the edge.

Steven thrusts faltered, leaving his rhythm, and pushed deeply into you one last time. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you felt each spurt, covering your walls in his white.

You two laid on top each other, legs entangled, and bodies intertwined like lovers. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you said, “I love you, Steven.”

And in that moment, all was right.

»————-　⚜　————-«

“What?”

The disbelief in each of their tones hung in the air. The councilmen shook their heads in shock as Peter stared at you from the throne with his brows furrowed, deep in thought.

“I beg your pardon, Lady (Y/N).” One of the men said.

“My lords, my king,” you addressed with a bow of your head. “I asked for this meeting to tell you that I am incredibly humbled to have been homed here in the palace of Arachnia and to be the betrothed of the prince – king – to have witnessed you be crowned, your majesty… But I,” you swallowed and took a deep breath. “I do not want to marry you.”

“What brought this on?” Peter asked you as he leaned into his throne. He eyed you, suspiciously, eyes glancing over your figure. Although the new king had been wrapped up in several meetings ever since his coronation, he noticed the change in you – the way your body filled out, hips wider and the glow in your complexion. You looked more radiant than you usually were and much happier. Though he wasn’t sure what was the cause, he was certain it had not been him but he refused to believe it was another.

“I cannot believe this!”

“We’ve wasted all this time preparing a marriage!”

“How dare she – “

“He needs a bride to keep his crown.”

“Silence,” Peter ordered the men and their murmurs quickly disappeared. Words and unfinished sentences hung in the air. “What brought this on, my lady?”

You cleared your throat as you took a step forward. “Your majesty, I … I am not meant to be your queen.”

Peter nodded in contemplation and you were hopeful. He had always been understanding. He would’ve surely granted you a swift exit from this engagement without another – “No.” And just like that your hopes were dashed. “You are to remain my betrothed as you have been for months.”

“But Pete – “

“Our wedding is in days!” Peter snapped and your eyes flicked to the floor. “And you want to end our engagement now? You had months to concede – “

“I was afraid!” You objected. The lords stared on as your voice rose higher than the king’s. The tone, the higher octave, may have been from a moment of frustration, but the men in the throne room saw it as one thing only: a lady undermining her king.  

“Afraid?” He scoffed. “Of what? Of me? My lady, I am not a cruel man – “

“Then grant me my wish. Release me from this engagement.” You begged.

“No.” Peter shook his head. “We are to be married in a few days’ time.” You saw how his kind eyes darkened as he frowned at you. “You do your best to rid of your cold feet now, my lady.”

Defeated, you rushed out of the throne room. Several servants and other nobles stared with confused expressions as you ran past with tears in your eyes – running to the only man that understood you, the only man that could help.

You banged against his chamber doors, desperate for him to whisk you away.

“Steven!” You called when the door suddenly opened to reveal a maid. Her arms were full of linens and you stared at her in confusion.

She quickly curtseyed to you and cocked her head to the side. “My lady, have you been crying?”

“No,” you shook your head, jaw clenched, though your sniffle gave you away. “Where’s King Steven?”

“He left this afternoon, my lady.” She told you.

“What?” You felt the color drain from your face. You shook your head at her as if she were wrong. He wouldn’t have left you – not like this. “No… There must be a mistake. Steven – King Steven – “

She frowned before shaking her head. “No, my lady… The Brooklyn King left hours ago. If you had wanted to know, I would’ve told you. I had no idea you two were so close.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes. Though the maid had been kind in her intention, you heard the accusation loud and clear.

A shaky breath left you as you forced a smile. “No,” you said shaking your head again, “no… The king, our king, Peter and I were hoping he’d attend our… our marriage.” The word felt heavy on your tongue as the world around you began to crash down. “I suppose, we were too naïve to believe he’d stay.”

»————-　⚜　————-«

The barren winter trees passed by in blurs as Steven stared out the carriage window. The bickering of his two friends and advisors, Lord Samuel Wilson and James Barnes, became background noise to his pensive thoughts.

He wondered how you were – were you as devasted as he was? Would you understand if he told you the truth – that he, though desperately and completely in love with you, could not have you? That his overstep, his coveting of Peter Parker’s fiancé, may reignite a feud long buried between Arachnia and Brooklyn.

That as a king, it was his duty to put a stop to a potential war.

Though as a man, he knew his duty was to you and may always be.

“The girl,” Barnes’s mention of your name had him turning from the window and towards the two men, “she seems well. A great match for the young king.”

Steve scoffed. Although he knew his opinion was heavily biased, he knew that you were most certainly not a good match for the Parker boy. Peter would have you as a decorated figurehead – a pretty woman on his arm for the world to see – while Steven wanted so much more in your forbidden union.

“I see you disagree,” Samuel nodded to his king. Steven sat in silence and the two lords shot a knowing glance at the other. “They are to be wed in a few days.” Steven hummed though the two didn’t miss the way his hand formed a fist over his knee.

“The sooner the better, I suppose,” James nodded, eyeing Steven wearily. “Peter, being so young and the last of his line, he needs an heir quickly.” The king shifted in the carriage and they felt the entire cart jolt with his fury. “Steven, I address this as your friend, nothing more, but what is your issue?”

“Nothing.” Steven said quickly and he scolded himself. He felt like a young boy throwing a tantrum with his mother.

James raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his king and childhood friend. “The girl has piqued your interest, hasn’t she?” His friend’s silence was all the confirmation he needed. “Steve – “

“I know,” Steven snapped. “I know it is wrong to want another man – “he scoffed, “child’s bride…”

“And yet you still do?” Samuel asked. “Steve, the consequences of your feelings,” he shook his head, “it will incite an unnecessary war… and over what? A girl?”

“If she’s a war, then I will fight.”

“A love blind man’s word… Not a king’s.” Samuel rebutted.

“Why did you leave her, then? You could’ve stowed her away in this carriage with us. You could’ve stolen her from under Peter’s nose. Why didn’t you?” James quizzed.

With a defeated sigh, Steven said, “it’s for her own good. My affections for her, whatever my heart says or hers, it will get her killed. Arachnia will not take lightly to her betrayal of their king.”

James nodded in agreement. “You’re saving her. This is for the best, my friend. For if you listened to your heart instead of your head, she will be a casualty in a pointless war.”

“It’s difficult,” Steven confessed, “to have let her go. And it’s something I will regret for the rest of my life.”

»————-　⚜　————-«

ONE YEAR LATER…

Your entire family cooed at the fussing three-month-old in the king’s arms. The child continue to wail and thrash, finding discomfort in your husband. “Argh!” He glanced over to you as if asking for your help. You stifled a laugh as you walked over, seizing your baby from him. “She prefers her mother over me.” He joked as the babe almost instantly calmed in your arms.

“Have you chosen a godparent, yet, your majesty?” Your father asked you, subtly pushing your older brother forward as a silent suggestion. You rolled your eyes.

The king ran a hand over his brown curls and shook his head at your father. “No, my lord, we have yet to choose.” Peter nodded in your direction. “I thought since most of baby Fallon’s life will be decided by me, his mother should have a say in that.”

Your father chuckled with a shake of his head. He clasped a hand on your shoulder, and you fought the urge to shrug it off. “Indecisive, this one, isn’t she?”

Peter glanced your way, “you have no idea.” The two men laughed, and you gnawed at the knob in the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood. Fallon yawned and you gave Peter a look. “I suppose, we should all greet our guests.”

“Oh, yes,” you nodded, “the christening. You go ahead, Peter. Someone should stay with Fallon.”

“Oh, nonsense, girl,” your father told you. “The nanny will – “

“She is my child and I will care for her. I do not need a nanny.” You snapped, your bottled up frustrations slowly bursting.

Peter laughed awkwardly, hands finding your waist though you pulled away from him. He coughed. “It’s the separation anxiety,” he joked with your father.

“Well, I never had that,” your mother piped up.

Of course, you didn’t. You sent me away as soon as Peter asked. You bit back the response.

Your family began to vacate the nursery and you felt a bit of relief. You felt Peter’s hands on your hips. You tensed when you felt his lips ghost over your ear. “Why don’t you join me in greeting our guests?” He asked you.

You shrugged him off. “I want to be alone.”

The young king sighed before releasing his hold on you. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned to you again. “You do realize your duty is not only to Fallon? It is to me and my kingdom as well.”

“I understand that my duty was to give you an heir,” you deadpanned. “I have done just that.”

“You have given me a daughter. Not an heir.” You glared at him and he immediately silenced.

“A daughter is an heir. Do not dare discredit her birthright because of her sex!” The babe began to stir in your arms and let out a small cry. You immediately shushed her, coddling her in your arms and she began to quiet.

You heard him sigh, defeatedly, before the door slammed shut again.

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you as you stared at the child in your arms. Many times, you found peace in Fallon’s presence, but as time went on and as the child began to resemble her father, you began to worry. Though Fallon had adorable dark curls, she had striking blue eyes – ones that undoubtfully belonged to her father.

On the day you were to wed Peter, he had gotten caught up in the affairs of the state. The wedding was quickly rescheduled for two weeks after despite the protests of the nobles and royals who had all stayed extra days to witness your union. As you were doing the final adjustments to your gown, you realized you were due for a bleed that had yet to come and a sickening feeling of realization ran erupted through you. You did not consummate that night – your nerves and guilt making you sick to your stomach.

But you decided that you would survive – if not for yourself, then the life within you, the life in your arms now.

Moments later, the door creaked open and you let out a frustrated sigh. “Peter, I said I wanted to be alone – “in the silence, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand and a shiver run down your spine. A familiar feeling you wanted to forget. You turned around and your eyes widened. All the fury you felt, the regrets, the pain – all of it – melted in an instant.

“Steve.”

He stared at you with adoring eyes. You had grown more beautiful if that were even possible. Your glowed, motherhood becoming you. “(Y/N).”

“You shouldn’t be here.” You shook your head.

“You weren’t with Peter,” the Brooklyn king told you. “I thought you may have been with your child…” He chuckled. “Near the south wing, next to the staircase.”

“I love the sunlight it brings in.” You muttered. “Peter never lets Fallon out of the castle, so I suppose, it’s a substitute.” Steven nodded.

After beats of silence and longing stares, Steve finally said, “I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” You nodded. “At first I was angry. I cursed your name in the dead of night. I wished you were dead and I often pretended so.”

“I deserve worse.”

You laughed. “You do.”

“I did it because I was afraid if I took you from him, in a furious rage, he’d strike you down. You are not of Brooklyn. I could not protect you against your own king.” Steven explained.

You nodded. “I told you. I would marry into hell.”

“Has he been cruel?” Steven frowned, his fury slowly rising and hands forming fists.

You shook your head. “No, far from it, actually.” You chuckled humorlessly. “In fact, perhaps, I’ve been the cruel one. I push him away because I don’t want Falon to believe that he is her father – “

“What?”

You glanced down at the child in your arms and beckoned Steven with a cock of your head. The king slowly walked over to you and the babe. Steven’s eyes watered slightly as he stared at the small creation. “She’s … she’s mine?”

You nodded. “They pushed the wedding back two weeks and I didn’t… uh… I didn’t bleed… and I knew then. We didn’t consummate,” you saw how he frowned at that, “until a week or so after. I was with child not long after.”

“How do you know?” He asked you. “Not to be accusatory, but – “

“She has your eyes.” You smiled. “Every time she stares at me, it’s as if you are.”

“She looks like me,” Steven smiled, a gentle finger caressing the child’s plump cheeks. You nodded in agreement.

“Would you like to hold her?” You asked and he eagerly nodded. He took the child from you and you felt your heart swell when Fallon didn’t immediately begin to fuss like she would with Peter. “She likes you.”

“I hope so. I’m her father, after all.”

You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder, both admiring the life that you both created. You imagined that this was your life… just for a moment. That you weren’t in Arachnia but in Brooklyn, bearing Steven’s name rather than Peter’s… Married to the one who truly held your heart.

You sighed, finding the calm in your daughter and your lover.

And in that moment… all was right.

let me know what y’all think

[d-criss-news]

Actor And Producer Darren Criss Reveals His Creative Process

The producer, singer and actor talks his approach to songwriting, discovering his sound and how he’s ready for the next chapter.

We don’t know about you, but we’re currently experiencing the Bank Holiday blues. With the realisation that our days of summer maybe coming to an end were in need of uplifting sounds and singer-songwriter Darren Criss is keeping the energy going with his fun-filled EP “Masquerade”. Between the slick alt-pop productions and high-octane energy, the artist puts his theatrical abilities and prowess at the forefront of the EP. Laced with serene dance floor-ready melodies, the actor and musician instantly gets the party going on the project, kicking it off with “f*kn around”.

“The dirty secret is that every song is character-driven,” the artist revealed when discussing the project. “I just chose wording that could perhaps aid people into understanding this exploration of genre, this self-aware exploration of genre a little more. For those people that only know me as an actor, I’m trying to guide them into this notion of music and songs being a form of acting.”

No newcomer to the scene, the artist has spent the past decade gracing our screens in the cult favourite Glee and the thrilling Assassination of Versace: American Crime Story. Wanting to continue his musical journey in the form of producing and writing, we caught up with the multi-faceted artist talking his growth over the years, staying creative in a pandemic and how he’s ready for the next chapter.

Check out the interview below now…

Hey Darren, how are you? How has this past year been for you? It’s a strange question to answer because everybody’s answer is so much more complicated than what you can say in a quick easy tight polite answer. You know, I’m well, as well as one could be given the situation. I feel, you know, luckier than most. Even with the music that I just put out there’s still more that I’d like to do, but I got to do even more than I thought I’d be able to. So that tends to be kind of the theme of the past year and a half. I feel like I’ve been so consumed by working on so many things for so long, that not a lot of people outside of my inner circle know about that. You know, it’s been a lot of high output but seemingly low visibility. So now finally getting to put out some of these things and talk about them… tipped scale of visibility versus output is hopefully having a chance to even out for a bit, to where the amount of work I’ve put in can somehow match that people you know may or may not know about what I’m doing. You know, I’ve been really busy. I’m the kind of guy where if you give me a white canvas it’s a more…I wouldn’t say stressful, but I’m more likely to fill up a blank canvas immediately with as much shit as possible – I guess that is more stressful than having only a few places to fit things in, and I usually keep pretty busy. Ironically when I’m really busy, that’s when I can get stuff done. Like you know that phrase ‘if you want something done ask the busiest person in the room’, and I think there’s a degree of truth to that because you know, the chaos kind of begets chaos, and productivity begets productivity, and in a lack of anything else to do it was like ‘I wanna do all these things!’ and then it gets really crammed, so it’s nice to be kind of simmering down from this overwhelming call to arms to get as many things done as I could with this new unprecedented free time that I had. So, in short, I guess, am well if you wanna use that! I feel, I’m just relieved that a lot of this stuff can exist somewhere outside of my head but it’s a complicated answer, I’ve been able to do a lot more than I thought I’d be able to.

With everything that happened last year, was your creativity affected? The time that it yielded is the kind of time that a lot of creative people fantasise about. Of course, we would have all preferred it in a very different way when you say ‘if only I had time to sit down and work on this’. I think we all have; I say creative people but we all say, ‘if only I had time to paint the kitchen, learn a language, get in shape’, you know do something different that requires a bit of time and focus. We were all given that golden ticket, of course take that with a massive grain of salt, I’m fully aware of the price with which that came, of course if we had the choice, I don’t think any of us would have wanted it to happen the way it did. But none the less, for those of us who did take the time to focus, to hopefully be productive and proactive with the situation we were thrown into, it was creatively beneficial to finally get to address things that had been sitting kind of on deck and dormant in my mind, and it was just a matter of having the time to give them any attention. One of the joys of jumping between acting and music is there is a battle of time commitment, because neither one is a thing you can do casually. If you’re acting in something, there’s a great degree of scheduling that really eats up a large chunk of your day. While I’m in an acting project, I’m writing stuff and playing music but the actual logistics of producing music is as time consuming as the acting. I am envious of people that can kind of just show up, sing a song and leave. I, unfortunately, am not that kind of person. Writing a song is only a small piece of putting music out. Production really does take a large part of my emotional and intellectual efforts, and I really dive in head on. And that’s not even mentioning the promotional side of it. So, it really does take a lot of time to dive into those things, and I was finally given that. If anything, it was hard to decide what part of my musical menu that I wanted to serve up. It just came to a matter of what felt right at the time, what seemed fun. I kind of wanted to put out something that was positive and fun, and unapologetically so. And something that really showed up for a side of me that I felt like hadn’t been represented in the past. The musician side, and unfortunately, we haven’t been able to perform these very much. We’ve done little videos here and there. Stuff that really showed my roots as a musician, a garage rock guy, a guy that really likes getting in the weeds of production. In the past I’ve put up things that are a little more analogue, singer-songwritey, and this is more me as a producer and a musician.

How did you first get into music, what sparked the interest? Well, I’ve been playing music my whole life, and not casually either. It’s such a massive part of my identity, and that’s one of the main driving forces of me wanting to put out as much music as I possibly can. These five songs on this EP are a small part of a much larger body of work that I’m dying to get out whenever I can. When you’re a songwriter, or just in general a creative person, you have more ideas back logged than your body can execute. This is only a small part of a much larger puzzle, and a lot of these songs, the ones that I’ve put out and the ones I’m still trying to put out, are ghosts that have been haunting me however many years., some more than a decade, some more than two decades. The reason I mention this is because I’m trying to illustrate how pivotal music and making music has been throughout my life. I started playing violin when I was 5, and that was a big part of my cultural education, learning how to play an instrument that is so dynamic and requires a pretty specific ear and technical ability. Now I’m not saying I was fantastic at the violin, but I think the training that I had on it from 5 until my late teens really shaped the way that I would create music and think about music, certainly as a writer and a producer, but with just how I would jump between other instruments as well, because the violin was such a great touchstone for me to end up taking up the piano or guitar, or drums, or other instruments that would really formulate how I create music. Between being the orchestra nerd kid that played a lot of music throughout my young life, and also being the guy that would play in bands, its just been such a huge part of my life. As I’ve gotten older and gotten to understand this other version of myself that exists in more of a public view, that has little to do with that I know, I have started to notice that person, that avatar of myself, isn’t necessarily associated with music. And that was troubling to me, so I wanted to rectify that.”

And now you’ve just dropped your EP, talk us through your mindset going into the project? If I was just a recording artist, and that’s all I did, I’d like to think that I’d have a much larger body of work to show for. I feel like a lot of songwriters feel this way. There is just simply too much music…now I’m not gonna say it’s all fantastic, there’s a reason you have to triage the ones that you think are the best at the time, and there are many songs that I feel would be outdated, they feel very of the time 10 years ago. But you’re always trying to put your best foot forward with the pile you have lurking behind you. So, it is a hard thing to decide which thing you want to put out. Killing your darlings is always a hard thing, figuring out which ones to really focus on is difficult and it usually comes down to who you decide to collaborate with – right before the pandemic was one of the most tumultuous times of my career where I was producing and acting in a show for Netflix, and I was also kind of show running, acting, writing music for, editing, doing everything for this other show I created called ‘Royalties’ on another platform. I was doing both at the same time, and one of the things that made this possible was the people that I would collaborate with. A young man by the name of CJ Baron who I produced and wrote this EP with, he’s sort of the midwife that I chose out of working on Royalties because we had a lot of great songs together. I keep referring to myself as a producer, but I do it from a much more cerebral space, whereas he is a much better technical producer than I am. We really shared a lot in common, so by the time I realised that I wanted to make a piece of music you have to decide ‘who do I want to go down this yellow brick road with?’ And when I decide with CJ, that kind of already hinted at the kind of music that I would put out because he has his own fingerprint, and so I thought there’s something that I have that might mesh well with that fingerprint, so that kind of helps the decision process along of what songs am I gonna put out. But in another world CJ wasn’t interested, so then I think ‘Okay let me try and produce an album with this person’, and that person would reveal a different selection of songs. I’m very open to seeing what the universe is allowing and pushing towards, and I kind of follow that northern star to figure out what songs I’m gonna put out. But the mindset was always ‘put something out’, on a completely pragmatic level. What did I want to have to show for if whenever we got out of this crazy, new age of ‘what does this pandemic mean? We have time to do stuff, when it’s over what do I want to sit there and say that I accomplished?’ And at the very least I needed to put out a few songs, so that was really my mindset – no excuses, this is the time that you used to hope for, and so what are you gonna do if you’ve got the golden ticket, you’ve won the time lottery – so don’t fuck it up Darren! That was my mindset.

You describe them as character-driven singles, why is this? The dirty secret is that every song is character-driven, I just chose wording that could perhaps aid people into understanding this exploration of genre, this self-aware exploration of genre a little more. For those people that only know me as an actor, I’m trying to guide them into this notion of music and songs being a form of acting. The number one question I always get it ‘which one do you prefer?’ and I always say they are the same to me. When I’m an actor I treat characters, characterisation of my voice and body, characterisation of how I deliver words like a piece of music. You’re scoring it the same way, there’s cadence, dynamics, volume, nuance, all kind of things that can make ‘a piece of music’ unique to a person. And that’s how I treat dialogue and characterisation. The other side of that coin is I treat music like I’m acting, like each song has its own character when you’re playing live or recording in a booth. You are donning the proverbial mask of that character and what it requires. I really wanted to keep people into this idea that at the end of the day, it’s all performative and all part of a narrative that don’t necessarily have to do with each other and the way that if you ask Alexa to play a ‘Jack Nicholson playlist’ it would be very disjointed. It would be like okay The Shining, that’s a vibe, and then it would go to As Good As It Gets, and that’s a completely different vibe. They wouldn’t necessarily be on the same playlist, but they are distinctly and undeniably Jack Nicholson. So I always thought that it was a bit of a double standard that actors can do this but in music, you know, I’m proud of this but it’s also very annoying – a lot of my songs would probably not playlist together on the same genres because you have more jazz songs, like a trip hop chill tune that might end up in the back of a Starbucks, but that wouldn’t necessarily go on the same playlist as a tune like ‘I Can’t Dance’, which is a crazy song because it doesn’t even sound like me, I’m literally putting on a different voice, I’m singing like two different people putting on an affectation. There’s a lot of things that are very different but uniquely and distinctly me. The word masquerade is a celebration of a lot of different masks, and in theatre we talk about ‘The Masque’, and how each Masque has it’s own style, history and culture, and I really love the genre, and I love Masques, and I love things that make them interesting, and celebrating things that make them unique, and really trying to maximise their effectiveness as a genre with whatever tools I have as an artist, so that’s really what I’m trying to go for, this whole character driven idea is – it’s all a masquerade.

It very much has a fun-filled vibe to it, was this your intention and why? I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I sat in a studio saying ‘Hey lets not have fun!’, especially during a time that was as fraught with a lot of troubled times. This EP was recorded during very troubling times, so I think I’d be delusional to think that whatever joy is in this EP was not some kind of reaction to that, trying to offer something positive is definitely my MO in life in general, so that’s always gonna bleed its way onto my records. Like it or not. The intention is to record things that can be effective. If the vibe you feel is fun, great. If you feel any vibe at all, whatever the fuck that means, that’s a win for me. If that happens to be the word ‘fun’ then awesome, there’s a lot shittier adjectives that can be derived from this body of work so I will absolutely take it. My intentions are again to try and honour the songs. When you write something it has its own magnetic pull, it has it’s own gravitational pull that you have to kind of follow. If a song sounds a certain way, you want the lyrics to feel the same way that it sounds, and you want the production to feel the way that it vibes for lack of a better word. All songs have different body types and dressing it up and knowing how to tailor it to accentuate the things that make it fun or sexy is really sort of a strange alchemy. It’s not up to me how people experience it, but that’s what makes it fun. Once you put something out into the world it’s up to other people to use their own adjectives of the suit you tailor. I’m always excited when it leaves my head and becomes somebody else’s experience. So hey, if it’s fun – great!

What do you want people to take away from the project? Obviously, I hope people enjoy themselves. Any musician or artist would hope that there’s some kind of memorable experience to be had from it. If I was talking about what I hope people take away from it, that doesn’t have to do with the music itself, I hope that every time I put out music it’s me broadcasting this notion that this is something that I do, and that this is a big part of my identity. I think the songs themselves and what they’re about and how they feel are less of an insight into my identity as the notion of me putting out music is, because I feel like for any artist your journey is a constant negotiation between how you see yourself and how you would like to be seen, and how audiences are willing to see you. And you know, sometimes that balance is not always even. Sometimes the way they see you isn’t the way you see yourself, and sometimes the way you see yourself isn’t the same as the way they see you, so you want to be somewhere in the middle. And ‘Masquerade’ is a huge step forward for me to try and represent who I am and what I’m about to folks who might not see that. So that’s the biggest goal I think with any release but particularly this one.

Who would you cite as your inspirations? I’m one of those people that, when I say that everything inspires me, I’m not trying to be cute. It’s a problem. It’s an actual scourge on my life, where I find everything interesting. I find everything inspirational. It’s such a core belief that I have that there is inspiration to be derived from every walk of life. Stuff like from a lawn chair to a Bach cantata, there are so many things that can be interesting and incorporated into some creative output. It’s just all about how you look at it and how you can perceive and understand where it comes from. There are so many things that are inspiring to me. Of course, this is the massive macro answer that you weren’t looking for, you’re probably looking for ‘what artist are you inspired by?’ I think I’m just inspired by people who are really genuine to themselves, and this is an ironic answer considering that I actually try to be as many different people as possible. It’s a strange thing that actors are celebrated for not being anything like themselves professionally. And musical artists are separated for being as close to themselves and putting their souls as close to the chopping block as possible. I think I’ve really found my niche as a storyteller. I’m envious of some of the great troubadours of history, that can put their souls out on the record for us and put their own personal experience into things. Leonard Cohen and Joanie Mitchell, and Carole King, more modern people like Taylor Swift who really can just bare their souls for us. I really admire them because that’s not a muscle I have. And when you’re an artist I think ‘Okay so what muscle do I have?’, and I think ‘Okay I’m like a playwright, I can make each story for these songs and try and bring them to life with as much accessible ability and reality, and as much truth as I can convey, that’s not to say they’re disingenuine, they’re born from a genuine idea but they’re supported by my background as an actor. Baring myself isn’t something that comes as naturally for me, I really admire those people and I try and perhaps emulate a lot of their song writing in whatever limited way that I can. Genres are inspiring to me, lets talk about song writing, and then there’s producing which are two different things to me, because when I hear music I hear chords, I hear melody, I don’t listen to the snare sample, but I always hear the bare bones and then I think about production. So as far as producing is concerned I think it’s really important to know all genres and to listen to what makes each one interesting and respecting those genres, and then when you are producing something yourself, and then taking from each thing by knowing why and how they work within that genre, so again to use a song like ‘I Can’t Dance’ which is a nod to late 70s/early 80s, somewhere between disco and new wave, I’m employing the things that make those genres fun, to me at least, and trying to smoosh them together in a way that sounds cohesive. So…everything is inspiring to me, it’s hard. But each song has a different source of inspiration, but they don’t transfer between all songs.

You’ve also wrote for animated series and for Glee, is the process different for producing? “This is actually a very good question. I think this ties into what I was saying before about writing for narrative is something of a calling that I think I’ve realised more recently is kind of where I can plant my feet more easily than any other type of song writing. I was mentioning the people that can bare their souls, some people have a really good ability of putting themselves out there but also writing as a satirist of character that he creates. The person that is a master of this is Randy Newman, he’s one of the greatest American songwriters of the 20th century. He has an amazing ability to create these scenarios or create first person accounts of people that aren’t actually him, but he can contextualise with his literal voice, his song writing voice, and make those their own sort of satirical version of himself. There’s a lot of layers going on there, but I’ve always thought of him as really excellent. He’s like a playwright with music, he’s writing musicals, I mean he’s won Oscars for writing music for narrative! That’s something that I’d really like to do – from a technical standpoint it’s actually very liberating because when you’re writing music with your name on it, you’re the artist, then there’s this sort of weird expectation that you’re trying to service which is why I like this idea of putting the mask on and separating the songs from my own personal experience, because I need to separate myself from my own experience of the music you’re hearing, at least on the surface. My big break was A Very Potter Musical, that I feel to this day are my biggest hits because I don’t really have hits, but as far as the songs that people know that strangers know of songs that I’ve written, they were songs that were written for characters. It’s a bit like painting by numbers. If you just write a song from scratch about anything, it’s like the canvas I’m talking about again. You can do anything, or go anywhere, and that’s overwhelming. Having parameters, knowing where the gates are, is extremely helpful, knowing when the deadline is, knowing how long your party can go for. It means you can maximise the space you know you have. When you write for narrative you go ‘this is the character’, ‘this is how they speak’ – so you already have your lyrical information there – ‘this is how they talk’, ‘this is the singer, the singer has a great range that goes from this note to this note’, ‘in this scene we need the character to go from point A to point B, and we want it to be a song that sounds like X’, so you create all these amazing little ingredients, and I look at artists like a service industry, I really enjoy servicing what the person or the experience requires. When I have a menu of ‘we want this, this, this’, it’s like okay great I’ve got you! A three-and-a-half-minute song that sounds like this song, but has to be in this key and has to be a duet, I really thrive on that. And it’s probably one of my more favourite versions of song writing. And usually there’s a deadline, so I can get it done! Because I need to get it done for production. I really enjoy coming back to writing for narrative, because I did that for Royalties with CJ, and when I realised how much I enjoyed doing that and how productive I was when I was writing for a narrative, that’s when I got into the idea of ‘I need to stop trying to bare my own soul in music’. I think if I treat it like I’m writing for a character, not only can I get it done faster but I feel like I can make things stronger. So that’s when I decided that’s what I’m gonna do for this next EP. Writing for other shows and characters is what helped me realise my strengths as a songwriter.”

What is next for you? What are you most excited for? “As I mentioned I think productivity begets productivity, and that’s exactly what happened with this EP. Even if the pandemic hadn’t happened and I didn’t have the time, I think I would have been just as emboldened from working on Royalties with CJ and it got me very excited about working on music and how much joy that gives me. Any artist will say the same answer, but I think by the time stuff comes out artists are already over it because they’ve been living with it for a year and a half, and in my case over a decade with these songs, so I’m always ready to move on and go to the next thing. Everything is a stepping stone, so I’m very happy that this EP is out, I think it’s a great representation of a lot of stuff that’s been unaddressed for far too long. I just wanna get going, it gets me excited about keeping the ball rolling as a songwriter or as a producer, I just don’t want this to be like ‘This is the thing I did during the pandemic’, I want to keep it going and be more proactive about keeping time aside for it, because that’s the name of the game. When you’re acting or doing music, you have to balance it with time, and this pandemic has shown me how much I enjoy spending time on music, so I’m gonna carry that on. But of course, as soon as I say that, that’s when something unexpected and something too juicy that I can’t keep my hands off it happens on the acting side. One learns to be pretty flexible, because as soon as I say one thing something else will happen, and that’s been the narrative for the past decade of my life. I hope to just keep going. I’ve been this lucky for this long so I’m not gonna pretend like I’m going to keep being this lucky. If I get to act great, if I get to do music great. I can’t believe I’m in a position where its like ‘oh if the acting thing doesn’t work out, I’ll just do music!’ or the other way around, it’s a highly privileged list of options, and I’m fully aware of that. So as long as I can have one or the other to fall back on, I will always be excited about option. It’s not always up to me, so we’ll see. Everything that I’ve put out is just a way for me to renew my lease with my ability to show up for myself as well as people that I don’t knows ability to be interested in what I have to do next. But I won’t flatter myself, I’m not gonna say that lease is forever, so I’m just trying to put in the time and work to keep it at the very least somewhat interesting.”

Photography - Amanda Demme

[enigma-im]

Fourth Day of Christmas...

Trope: Damsel in Distress (Trigger warnings) Relationship: Dragon x Human Word Count: 7,990

Nobody knew about the Dragon living in the old castle. When the crew went over to tear it down they woke him. The task of collecting bricks seems shallow to the lives lost at the jaws of the mighty beast. All who near his home face a treacherous death, few make it back to tell the tale. The king grows restless, stubborn, and bitter about the loss of an abandoned castle. It meant nothing to him at first and now it means everything.

"Father, when are you going to get out of this stuffy office," I ask, pulling back the curtains. The room has taken on a sour smell, the king being the center of it. The litter decorates his desk and floor, piles of paper stacked on the edges of the table.

"When I'm done," he winces at the light," you understand, darling, the wretched dragon still runs amok. I cannot rest while he kills more of my people."

I scoff, picking up the crumpled pieces of paper," wouldn't have to worry about that if you just left the stupid thing alone."

"Excuse me," he snaps," would you rather have the beast fly down to our part of the world and snatch up our people for his meals? I say, I had you pictured as a better princess than that." I bite back a remark. I cannot have this argument again. Nowadays it's all we can talk about, that cursed scaled bird.

I straighten his station and much as I can, first wanting the excuse to speak with him and now wishing to leave as soon as possible. That dragon has twisted him, turning all his thoughts to destroying it and wearing its hide as armor. This ridiculous feud hasn't gotten us anywhere, just more people dead.

Wondering the castle I try to find ways to entertain myself. With father busy calling out for help to the knights of the area he no longer has time for me. I'm so narcissistic to assume he should only cater to me but I was his sidekick in matters of the kingdom. It was nice being useful for that short time. I sigh, looking up at the painting decorating the halls.

"I just want something to do," I mumble," I wish he would stop bothering with that stupid dragon."

The afternoon rolls into night with another day wasted roaming the halls. I retire to my room, falling into my bed with an annoyed huff. Tossing and turning all through the night as sleep evades me. How can one sleep when they haven't done anything during the day to earn it? A crack of thunder sounds in the distance, though no light shines through the window. I lay back and listen for the rain.

Closer now thunder echoes around me, startling my body into sitting up. I look towards my balcony, trying harder to listen for rain or see the bright flickers of light. I hear nothing, I see nothing. Getting up out of bed I walk over to the double doors, pulling back the curtain to look out at the land. Seeing nothing I open the door.

Walking out onto the balcony I take the moment to admire the dimly lit kingdom below. I soon look to the sky, seeing the beautiful starry night. Not a cloud in sight despite the loud cracks of thunder. Confused, I turn back to my room.

As I walk for my doors I catch movement out the corner of my eye. I freeze. Turning slowly a gut dropping sight greets me. Hanging off the roof, latched onto the side of the wall, is a crimson dragon. It's golden eyes watch me, it's clawed hands gripping the banister of the balcony.

"Evening, princess," he purrs, his tongue slithering out. I recoil a step, dumbfounded and terrified as I grab at the door. Not looking away from him I slowly try to tug the handle towards me. His large head turns as the hinges creak. He stretches out his wings, pushing it back just as slowly as it was opened.

"Let's not make this harder than it needs to be," he crawls onto the balcony," I have no intentions of harming such a delicious looking morsel." I gulp, taking another step back as he approaches. He cuts off the door, circling me, guiding me towards the railing. I jump when my back hits the wood beam, steadying myself as I grab it in a tight grip. He regards me with amusement, stalking closer till his face is in front of mine.

"Please," I whimper, turning away. His horridly warm breath fans over my face, his tongue slithering out inches from my cheek. I shake in terror, wanting to scream, or run, or… something.

"Pretty, pretty," he sniffs at my hair," you would make a fine addition to my hoard." his claws trail over my waist as he guides me away from the banister. I stiffen at his touch, walking forward in hopes of lessening the contact. He tugs me against his chest, his warmth invading me. Without preamble, he crouches, stretches his wings, and launches into the air. I hear the balcony crack, the rails snapping off from the force.

I scream, clenching the damned beast tighter as he begins his ascent over the kingdom. My nails dig into his skin, feeling his laugh against my chest. He lets out a triumphant roar as he flies over the plains, his roar sounding similar to thunder. I whimper, clenching my eyes shut and hoping for a swift death.

We land in the ruins of a castle, falling through the caved-in roof of the main room. He stomps through the halls, his nails biting into my waist and his scales rubbing into my skin. We twist and turn down many halls till we enter a large bedroom. He sets me down, gentle to my surprise. I watch him waddle away towards a broken frame of a bed. The mattress sits on the floor surrounded by a large number of pillows and blankets, a nest. He plops down, resting like a dog with his chin on his hands.

I look at him confused, barely taking in the rest of the room as I fear for my life. What should I do now? Surely he plans to eat me as one last insult to the king. To pick my bones clean and personally deliver them to the palace front steps. That gruesome images plan on and on in my head till I'm trembling in the center of the room. This will be my final resting ground.

"Sit down! I'm not going to hurt you, princess," the dragon chuffs, smoke escaping from between his teeth. I jump at his gruff voice, grabbing at my chest in fear.

"W-what," I ask. I watch him twist his head towards me, eyeing me lazily.

"Do you assume I wish to eat you," he cocks a brow. I furrow mine confused.

"Well, of course, you are the man-eating dragon of old Brittania castle. Everyone knows of your appetite for men," I explain," what else would you do with the likes of me?"

His eyes roam over my body as he answers," I can think of a few things I could do with you." I stutter on his meaning, heat blossoming over my cheeks. Surely he didn't mean that.

"I-I have no uses, sir, I cannot think what I could possibly do for a dragon besides be his meal," I fidget, shifting weight from side to side.

He snorts," you clearly haven't entertained many men if you believe you have no uses for the likes of me."

I scoff at his insinuation," are you being crude?"

"No, I'm being lewd. Crude would mean I'm being simple or unrefined. I'm being more perverse and sexual," he explains. I'm caught off guard by his words, it rather educated than most. Even though he has been immodest, I'm near impressed with his explanation.

"Well, I have no use like that in either definition," I huff," if I may be so bold as to make a request, eat me if you wish to do anything lewd."

"Well, here I thought you would be stuck up and boring. Foolish of me to assume a spawn of king Fjord wouldn't be anything but," he looks away again, resting his eyes. I wait, expecting more from this strange conversation but he stays put. I almost feel brave enough to demand answers but seeing his large tail lazily flick a pillow aside stops that. So many questions run through my head as I stand in the room. There surely has to be a purpose for kidnapping me. I cannot be so ignorant to assume it's for money like normal men. What would a dragon even do with gold?

My legs grow tired, forcing me to sit against the farthest wall. I debate leaving, looking to the open door many times. I try to recall the journey from the main room to here, remembering the collapsed ceiling blocking the main exit. Even if I managed to sneak out of the palace, how would I get home? I do not know my way from here to there. The journey would be spent getting lost and starving to death if the animals don't get to be first. I drop my shoulders and sigh. No, it seems to stay put is sadly my best option.

The morning I awake to loud stomping shaking the floor. I startle awake, wincing as my back pops. My shoulders ache as I lean over my legs. Stretching I try to alleviate the pain some, failing utterly. This is as bad as when I fall asleep in the stables after playing outside too long. Though this is perhaps a tad worse. My shoulder pops as I raise my hands above my head and groan.

"All these pillows and blankets and you didn't think to grab one, or even sleep on the bed," the dragon says. I stiffen, looking to the beast.

"I wasn't sure if I'd be allowed," I answer quickly. He chuffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

"a princess who doesn't take without asking, surely the world's gone mad," he laughs dryly. I grimace, hating the jab more than I can admit.

"I was raised by good parents who taught me to ask first," I bite back, stretching out my legs with another groan. He watches me, sizing me up before rolling onto his back.

"Excuse me, I've never met any royalty who could be accused of 'being raised right'," he wiggles on the blankets, scratching his back," you all are a bunch of greedy bastards who will take anything even if force is necessary."

"Bold of you to say having taken me from my home," I scoff under my breath. He rolls back onto his stomach, arching his back. It's fascinating to watch him move, the light from the window making his scales shine. I've never seen a dragon besides in picture books, this is truly a once in a lifetime sight. Even if he looks smaller than I'd imagine.

"food," he grunts," what should a man-eating dragon eat for breakfast?" he looks to me, licking his teeth. I recoil, flattening my back to the wall to be further away. He crawls off his nest, stalking towards me with smoke rolling out his nose. I shuffle onto my feet, stumbling to the farther corner of the room. He prowls as I try to find anything to fight him with, my corner lacks proper protection. As he steps closer I nearly whimper, not wishing to die so soon in my life. He reaches out a claw, snatching my shirt and forcing me on my rear. Towering above me he licks at my cheek, humming to himself.

"Sweet," he purrs. His maw opens, his teeth grazing my skin as he covers my neck. My heart beats wildly, making my head dizzy with the rush. I shut my eyes. His teeth press hard enough to dimple my skin, his tongue slathering my neck in spit. Before I can pass out from the adrenaline, he lets go.

"Looking a bit pale there, princess," he chuckles," you don't actually think I'll eat a pretty thing like you?"

I squint my eyes open, looking at his amused face. Confused, I turn back to him, watching as his lips curl into a smile.

"Of course I assumed you would," I snap," why else would I be here if not to fill your belly?"

He purrs," perhaps to let me fill yours?" I gawk at him, flustered at the suggestion. He barks out a laugh, taking a few steps back.

"lewd," I cross my arms," Lewd and mean."

He shrugs," I've been called worse."

The dragon waddles out to a side room. The doorframe is broken with the archway crumbled on the floor. I wait patiently for him to return, still confused about my purpose here. At the palace it was clear what I was to do and not do, as of lately it was a whole lot of nothing. The dragon returns dragging in a half mauled cow. He drags the horrid thing beside his bed, lounging on the pillows before feasting on the creature. I watch in disgust as he shoves his snout into the open chest. He tugs off a piece of meat, chewing happily as he looks over to me.

"Want some," he asks, nodding to the meat. I cringe at the meat, looking at him equally grossed out.

"I think I would literally die if I ate that," I answer.

He huff," drama queen. It's this or nothing."

"Then it's nothing, I can't eat raw meat," I answer.

"Can't eat ra-," he shakes his head," humans are too much."

I watch as he tugs off another piece of meat, pulling it out his mouth with pinched claws. He holds the morsel out in front of himself, lightly blowing on it. The air around his fingers seems to waver as if extreme heat is being applied. The meat begins to brown the longer he blows till the smell of cooked beef scents the air. He inspects the meat, nodding in approval before looking to me.

"there, cooked," he stretches his hand," now stop being difficult." I look from him to the meat. I'm reluctant to crawl over to him, still thinking of his neck clasped in his mouth. Crawling over I snatch the meat before retreating back to my corner. I take a tentative nibble, acknowledging its lack of flavor.

"Thoughts," he asks around another mouthful.

I chew the tough meat," it's dry."

He snorts," can't say that I'm a high-class chef. People generally say thank you but I guess I shouldn't expect that from royals."

I eat the rest of the meat, choking it down before I can think too much about it. The dragon inhales his meal like a savage, ripping and clawing at the meat with small growls.

"Thank you," I mumble. I couldn't figure he would hear me over the sounds of his loud chewing. Huddling in the corner I wait for whatever will happen next.

"You're welcome, princess," he says as he inspects the cow's head.

He eats for so long that I'm almost used to his grotesque manners. I actually grow bored sitting her before this ancient beast. Admiring his scales and the large room can only entertain for so long. As I reach my last strand of patience I demand his attention.

"Why am I here," I finally ask, the tension of the question pulling taunt. He freezes, looking to me over the nearly cleaned ribcage.

"Payback," he answers casually.

"To the king?"

"Who else? He keeps trying to take my home so I'll take his daughter," he looks back to his food," don't need to worry, I have no plans of harming you. I just want to make a deal with him. I'll give you back if he stops sending his men to try and kill me. Because despite what you may believe, I do not enjoy eating men…too oily for my taste."

I want to laugh if the image of him chewing up soldiers wasn't so horrid. Him admitting his plan does take the pressure off my shoulders. I believe I can trust him to keep his words, even if he is lewd and disgusting. It shouldn’t be too long before father sends one of his men up here to try to rescue me. Perhaps I can try to enjoy the company until then.

"What's your name," I ask as he shoves the bones aside and begins picking his teeth. He licks at his lips as he cocks a brow towards me.

"Kodim," he answers," what about you, princess?"

"Marie," I smile," I would say it's nice to meet you but I'd be lying. Hello Kodim."

"and I'll say with the utmost honesty that it has been a pleasure to meet you, Marie," he bows. I'm surprised by the bow, not truly expect something so polite. Perhaps he does have redeemable qualities that live up to his elegant status.

"So, what do you do here for fun besides kidnap princesses and eat the king's men," I only half-joke.

He shrugs, rolling over onto his side," not much. Besides eating, sleeping, rubbing one out, and hunting, I don't have much else to do."

I bunch my face up confused," rubbing one out?"

He sits up, a smile starting to curl up his face," you don't know rubbing one out?"

"Can't say that I do," I say cautiously. The mischievous look in his eyes tells me enough about where this may be going.

"excuse me for being lewd again but I really don't know how to explain it otherwise," he starts," it's masturbation. To rub my cock till I cum."

My neck heats up, rolling down my chest and up my face. An unwanted image of him doing such a thing in those pillows makes me cringe. I shake my head to rid the horrid thought, making him laugh in the process.

"Don't act so prude, princess, I'm sure you have done the deed in the seclusion of your room," he teases.

"For your information, I haven't, and I would be ever thankful if we changed the topic to something less invasive," I huff, embarrassed with myself. There isn't much I don't know but desires of the flesh is a genre I don't particularly dabble in. so much is to be done most of the time that I can't be bothered with thinking about what the maidens giggle about in gossip.

"Alright, alright, I didn't mean to fluster the pure princess. How about we talk about you, living the high life up in the 'untouchable' kingdom of Duloc," he scoffs at the end. This dragon has made his distaste of my land very clear, along with his hatred of my father. It's truly a blessing that he hasn't offed me for the sole crime of being born into high-class living.

"What is there to talk about? It's not an exciting life like people expect," I shrug, getting comfortable in my corner. I shimmy this way and that, getting poked and prodded with rocks.

"Come sit in my nest, watching you struggle to get situated is going to drive me insane," he exaggerates. With a sigh of defeat, I crawl over to his bedding, stopping before I can touch it as his previous activities echo in my head.

"Are these," I look up to him," Clean?"

He shrugs.

"ew," I sit back on the ground near the bedding. He barks out a quick laugh, snickering to himself as he reaches over. I try to bat away his hands but he snatches me by the leg and drags me onto the bedding. Sitting stiffly beside him he snorts.

"Tell me an average day in the life of a princess," he lounges behind me, curling around with his tail thumping in front of my legs. I can't bring myself to think just yet as I admire the spikes on the end of his tail. The appendage reminds me of a mace that's hung in my father's room.

"depends," I start," when I was younger it was filled with lots of classes. Had to learn the basics of reading and writing, studying tons of literature until my teens. Learned how to ride a horse, use table manners, math, history, and art. As an adult, I was introduced to actual work for the kingdom. How to formally address the people and begin diplomatic sessions between the ruling parties. It sounds boring but I really enjoyed helping out my father. Recently though… it hasn't been so lively." I reflect on the past year.

Father has been trying really hard to share the responsibilities with me, and I'd argue he was doing a swell job. It isn't till offers of marriage begin coming in, reminding him of his position. I can't be the son he wanted, and I think we both got to forget a little about that. Soon I will have to marry some snooty prince from another kingdom, to let him rule my people. It sours my stomach every time I think about it.

Kodim taps me with his tail, bringing my attention back to the present.

"Why is it different now," he asks.

I drop my shoulders," doesn't matter. It's nothing I can do even if I wasn't here."

He hums, turning his head to rest on his cheek," sometimes a little time away can bring perspective to things you couldn’t see before. Maybe being here is just the perspective change you need." I look to him, thinking on his advice. Could I dare to be so hopeful for a change?

"Don't try to twist this kidnapping into a positive light," I nudge his tail. He sniggers.

"Can't blame a guy for trying to make his princess happier," he jokes.

I cock a brow at him," your princess?"

He shrugs," I think we can both be optimistic about this little business deal."

We chat for a while, actually being more pleasant than I expected. One gets used to speaking with their words restrained. No one has ever spoken to me as Kodim does. It's almost…refreshing, even if it's sometimes lewd.

The next day I wake up laying in the nest next to Kodim. He is a good hands length away, curled around me. I roll over onto my back, seeing him glaring out the window.

I sit up," what's wrong?"

"A knight," he growls. I crawl out of his nest, standing as I near the broken window. Across the plain I see an armored figure riding a horse. They are still a bit a ways away but the threat is clear.

"What are you going to do," I ask, twisting around to Kodim.

"say hello," he smirks, getting up on his legs. I watch him walk out the room, stomping down the hall before I hear his thunderous roar from the skies above. Rushing to the window I catch a glimpse of him already gliding down the valley towards the knight. He circles the man, letting out another earth-shaking roar.

Kodim lets out a mighty burst of flame, cutting off the path for the rider trying to head towards the castle. The knight tries circling around, being forced back once again. I can't help but snort as he does it a third time. It's clear Kodim is messing with the poor man.

The dragon finally lands, standing stoically before the knight. I still can't help but laugh at the size difference. The survivors have told tales of a beast larger than small Kodim down there. He is still big but the exaggerations are clear. Kodim speaks to the man, walking around him as the man tries to wave his sword. Snatching the man up and slapping the sword away he lifts him high above his head, opening his mouth as he dangles the lad. The threat is clear, almost stomach retching.

I sigh in relief when he sets the man down, leaning down low the man tossed to the ground. After a moment Kodim takes flight, leaving the poor man to run to his horse and ride off away from the castle. I watch him till he is but a dot on the horizon, by then Kodim is heard stomping around outside.

"Did I kill your best men because that boy had to be some sort of insult if not," Kodim chuffs as he walks in.

"Not sure," I turn to him," I wasn't in charge of the soldiers."

"Pity," he stops beside me to look out the window," I think the king's men would have been properly motivated if they knew who they were fighting for." I scoff, ignoring his comment as I don't know if it was meant as a jab or a compliment.

"What did you tell him," I ask instead. He glances at me out the corner of his eye, then walks back to his bedding.

"Some beautiful theatrics before I told him to tell his king of the deal," he collapses on the nest," I sure hope he got all that because he looked damn near ready to piss himself."

"Well yeah, he had a scary dragon dangling him over their mouth. I'd be damn near ready to soil myself too," I defend the man.

Kodim laughs," don't flatter me so much, you'll make me soft."

I sneer," that better not be another vulgar joke." he laughs again.

Now with nothing left to do but wait I can't seem to find anything to entertain myself with. Kodim is only so amusing in such a barren room. I'm almost tempted to start cleaning the rubble up. Instead, I lounge around, trying hard to stir up some conversation with Kodim. He hasn't really done much since he left his home in the mountains. Even the story of growing up has been droll.

"What's around the castle," I ask, laying starfish on the bedding. He crawls out from his 'pantry', licking at his teeth. I watch him walk over and plop down beside me, resting his heavy head on my stomach. Air rushes out my nose along with an 'oof'. I try to push him off but he adjusts himself more on top of me. Reluctantly I let him win.

"some ruined houses, a lake, and lots of grass," he grumbles," why? Looking to escape before your father can send someone to retrieve you?"

" And ruin this vacation? As if," I pat his snout," No, I was just curious." he nuzzles against my hand, prompting me to scratch at his scales. I don't pay attention as I try to think of anything else to talk about.

"You want to see it," he asks. I stiffen at the question, constantly cautious of his double meanings. He snorts," not that, you perv, I meant the houses and lake."

"Oh," I blush," yea, I'd love to."

Kodim sits up off me, leaving me to get up and follow him as he walks out. As he reaches the door he glances over his back," maybe afterward I can show it to you," adding a wink before walking on. I stand flustered in the middle of the room, taking a moment before chasing after him.

"you're disgusting," I shout.

"Eh, you love it, princess," he bumps my leg once I catch up.

"I don’t know, jury's still out," I joke back.

"It's not a no, I'll take it," he smiles.

He guides me around the castle, lifting me once we reach the main room. Instead of flying out towards the destination, he drops me in the grass. Confused, I watch him land and begin walking away. Not questioning it I follow after.

Kodim leads us towards some torn down houses, the rock foundation is all that’s left. We look through each one, investigating the rubble with no real purpose. The conversation is amicable, him making me laugh more than a few times. I'd have to say this was a rather pleasant outing.

Back at the castle, I don't have a lot of opportunities to acts less than proper, being scolded for every unflattering snort or chuckle. Around Kodim I can be improper, even downright crass, with our conversations. He even encourages it, feeding into the conversation with his own crude comments.

With the afternoon already before us, I debate going back to his home. Yet, I'm not ready for it all to end. Kodim seems to feel the same as he knocks me from my thinking.

"You wanna see the lake," he asks.

"Can we walk from here to there and get back to the castle before it gets too dark," I ask.

"Who said anything about walking," he smirks, cocky as always.

I scrunch up confused," what would we do besides walking?"

He scoffs, crouching down and lowering a wing towards me," you can ride me."

I stare at the offering, a bit giddy at the prospect of flying with him and not held against his chest. To feel the wind in my hair and actually see the sights the height offers. I meet his eyes, biting my cheek to stop smiling.

"Now I know that's an innuendo," I joke. He barks out a laugh, snickering to himself before he gets the chance to retort.

"Only if you ask nicely," he winks," now stop, this is a once in a lifetime chance to ride a dragon. Don't ruin it."

I shake my head, amused, and begin the event of climbing on his back. He gives me a hand, using his arm as a stepping stool. I straddle the back of his neck, my legs hanging over his shoulders. I almost feel ridiculous up here, like when I first rode a horse. Looking around I try to find somewhere to hold onto. I open my mouth to ask when his wings spread out and swipe through the air. Yelping, I fall forward, squeezing his neck tightly.

"Not so tight," he grunts," choking the dragon is saved for the bedroom." his voice rumbles at my thighs, vibrating against my chest. I can't scold him for his joke as I'm looking at the ground so far below. I didn't figure I was one too afraid of heights but right now I can't piece together why I wouldn't be. I squeeze him tighter, folding my legs in against his shoulders.

"Don't look down, look ahead," he shouts. It's hard to tear my gaze from the ground. All my will power is put into looking to his neck, then his head, and finally the horizon. The fear drains slowly from me as I gawk at the view before me. The clouds look almost eye level, so close I almost dare to reach out and touch them. The trees and hills in the distances look so small, incomparable to looking at them from the castle. Up here everything feels so new, a perspective I never expected to have.

"Wow," I say in wonder.

The flight is ended shortly as I spot the lake coming into view. The sight is gorgeous, changing as we descent. For a moment I can almost see the whole lake, all edges. As we land I can see the pebbled beach below.

The landing is a bit bumpy as he more or less falls to his feet. I clench around him again, nervous about dropping the few feet to the dirt. Before I can start trying to climb off him he shakes, shifting me to his front. I yelp, holding on for dear life, to his amusement. His clawed hand rests against my back, the other cupping my rear.

"We're here," he stands on his two legs and walks to the water.

"Really," I bark," I didn't notice from the awful landing and sudden position shift."

"For someone who got to ride a dragon you seem rather hostile," he squeezes my rear.

"I wasn't till recently," I try to wiggle out his arms," and stop touching my ass!"

His laugh vibrates through me, even echoing as he sets me down. I scowl up at him, wanting to slug him in the chest for being such a jerk.

"Excuse me, princess, you are just too tempting," he purrs, falling to all fours to growl near my ear. I shove him aside, fighting back a laugh. Ignoring him, I turn to look over the lake. The sun has begun setting, making streaks of light dance over the water. I've never actually seen such a large body of water before, only admiring ponds and fountains.

"pretty, right," he asks, walking beside me and flopping down against the rocks. He groans, stretching out on the stones. "Warm," he mumbles. I grin down at him, enjoying watching him stretch out like a cat. I plop down beside him, spreading my legs in front of me. The view keeps my attention, the fresh air clearing my head. It's really peaceful out here.

"It is pretty," I nearly whisper.

We both rest by the water, Kodim resting his head on my lap. I lazily scratch him, watching the sun begin its colorful descent. I never understood wanting to stop and smell the roses before, taking the saying too literally as a child. It makes sense now.

"Thank you," I say to Kodim.

"For what," he asks. I look down at him, seeing him snuggled against my stomach with his eyes closed. I pet over his cheek, admiring the way the scales reflect with the setting sun. an eye peaks open, looking up at me.

"For flying me out here," I look back up at the water," it's really nice."

He shuts his eye back, humming with a smile. "it's truly my pleasure, princess."

We stay well past sunset, resting against one another while stargazing. At some point we shift positions, me resting against his stomach as he curls around me. I hold his tail in my lap and watch as each star begins to shine. A breeze rolls through, making Kodim shiver and snuggle in closer to my side. I pet at his neck, figuring it's time to head back.

Groggily, Kodim gets up, stretching before helping me onto his back. We fly back to the castle, the view just as amazing with the ground looking nearly completely black. A chill runs up my spine, forcing me to curl around his back.

We fly into the collapsed ceiling and walk back to the bedroom. Kodim beats me to the nest, flopping down onto the pillows with a pleased groan. He tugs some blankets on over himself, curling nearly into a ball. I can't help but watch him, dumbfounded at the adorable display. He looks up to me, lifting his tail and patting the space in the middle of his circle. I happily walk over, snuggling in next to him.

The next morning I wake up to something shaking my shoulder. I slap the annoyance away, pulling my blanket around myself more. I'm nudged again, even grabbed and tugged forward. Startled, I open my eyes and look around. I look up to a man in overly polished armor. Before I can say anything he covers my mouth, pulling me into his arms and dragging me out of the bed. I'm confused about my course of action as this is clearly one of my father's knights but I can see Kodim still sleeping a mere foot away.

"I'm here to save you, princess, try not to make too much noise," he whispers. The title rubs me the wrong way, it not rolling off his tongue like it does Kodim's. reluctantly I nod, knowing this was how it was all supposed to end. The knight helps me up, guiding me out of the room quietly. I pass one more sad glance at Kodim, guilty that I can't say goodbye.

I follow the knight around the castle, taking a different path than the one to the main room. We walk out a large gap in the split foundation into the bright morning. He walks over to an awaiting horse, petting them on the nose before grabbing at their reigns.

"We must leave quickly before he awakes," the man says, hurrying to help me onto the horse. He jumps on behind me, kicking the sides of the horse before we ride off away from the castle. It stings to leave, already missing Kodim's company.

Once we are a good distance from the castle does he slow his horse to a walk.

"Now that you're safe, I should introduce myself," he starts rather civilized," I am prince Ricardo of Florin."

I hesitate at his title," a prince? What are you doing coming out here?"

"I had to come out here," he grabs at my waist uncomfortably," I had to save my future bride from that horrid beast, as per your father's request." my heart sinks at his words. Future bride? No, that's absurd. There is no way any prince would bother with the ride out here, let alone to a known dangerous location.

"Future bride," I ask, pushing his hands off me," now I didn't agree to any of this. Why are you really here?"

He ignores my attempts of pushing him off and wraps his arms around my middle," alas, princess, I speak the truth. I made the deal with your father to have your hand in marriage if I am successful in rescuing you from the dragon. It would have been easy to get some lowly knight but I knew this task couldn't be trusted with just anyone."

His cheesy words spoil my stomach, rotting like a half-eaten apple in the bottom of the bin. I can believe my father doing something so desperate as promising me to another. I'm not naïve to assume otherwise. What really picks at me is the fact this man took on the journey himself. All princes I've met wouldn't dare get their hands dirty with a task like this. A knight for hire would have been an obvious choice, letting them venture inside and sneak me away. No, this doesn't sound like princely behavior.

"Alright," I drop the prim and proper," what is your goal here? Think you can marry into a royal family and get all the fame and riches as you like? It's a genius plan if only the princess you planned to save was an idiot. On the account that I am not, it's best if you just take me home and we pretend none of this marriage business happened." it's a clever plan, I won't deny it. The main mission would be to save me, not kill the dragon, so it would just take a quiet hand to snatch me away. I'm almost smug being able to see through his ruse. That is until his fingers begin to dig into my skin.

"I wanted to take the ride home to endear myself to you but it seems that's not an option," he sneers," so how about I just teach you what happens to little girls who don't understand how to show gratitude to someone who helps them." I wince as he squeezes harder, a hand trailing up to my chest and groping. I freeze at the action, very unprepared for such treatment. His lips peck at the back of my neck, making my skin crawl with every caress.

"Ricardo, you better take your hands off me right this instant," I try not to let my voice waver. His answer is a chuckle, reaching under my shirt to pet at my stomach. I jerk at the feeling of his cold fingers, jumpstarting my will to fight. I wriggle in his hold, tugging his hands away as I fight to get off the horse. He gives me a hand, pushing me off into the dirt.

I hit the ground hard, wincing at my shoulder take the brunt of it. Before I can recover he is on top of me, straddling my waist. I slap at him, swinging wildly with closed fists. I beat at his armored chest and get a single weak hit against his cheek before he grabs my hands. Pinning them to the dirt and smiling down at me.

"Such a spirited little princess," he grips my hands in one of his," I'll enjoy breaking you." I fidget and jerk away, trying to free my hands or kick my feet. He just laughs at my attempts, reaching for my collar and pulling it harshly to the side. A tear echoes around the morning air, making my eyes stinging as tears threaten to fall. He gropes and plays with my breast, growing hard in his trousers. I fall lax, stopping my fight for just a moment. He smiles wide.

"Good girl," he purrs," just let it happen." he bends down to suck a nipple into his mouth, his hand trailing down my arm before grabbing at my chest. I hiccup, tears falling towards my ears. His touch repulses me, my body ready to cringe away. With him distracted I clasp my hands together and bring them down harshly to the back of his head. He yelps, trying to rise and grab my hand once again. I hit him again, knocking him aside. He falls to the ground, clasping his temple as I scurry to my feet. He makes a grab for my ankle, missing by a hair as I book it back the way we came.

"You bitch," he growls, stumbling to his feet. I don't bother looking back, running as quickly as I can. His footsteps begin a bit of way behind me but stop after a bit. I can't bring myself to rejoice in his departure, just running till I can't anymore.

The castle appears in the distance, planting a seed of joy in my heart. The sound of hooves stomping behind me squash any potential happiness. My lungs burn and my heart beats fast as I race to the crack in the foundation. Everything fades from vision besides that single skewed entrance. I don't listen to the horse closing in, or the screaming man, I just focus straight ahead.

I can almost feel the horse's breath on the back of my neck. It sending chills up my spine. I slam against the crack in the wall, crouching to crawl through it. As I wedge myself in a hand snatches at my shirt. I chance a glance behind me, seeing the red face of the prince. He pulls, I pull. I wiggle away, gaining no ground till my shirt tears. With the clothing torn off, I manage to get back into the castle.

I run through the halls, huffing and puffing as I speed through familiar territory. The bedroom door is like a holy blessing as it comes into view. I snatch the handle and run into the room. Kodim still lounges in the center of his nest, just now waking up. He groggily looks at me, not getting the situation till I fall against him. I wail, grappling him closer as I finally let myself cry.

"Whoa, whoa," he sits up, curling around me," what's wrong, what happened?" I can't answer yet. I hiccup, rubbing my face against his chest as I take the comfort of his arms around me. He is safe, I repeat in my head, Kodim won't let him take me again. It's hard to calm down as the fear still demands action. That man could be trying to get in right now, that idea makes me hug Kodim tighter.

It takes a good minute for me to collect myself enough to speak, even then it's hard. I sit up, finally looking at him. He meets my eyes, looking away for a second to look at my chest. As his eyes meet mine, he looks angry. Reaching over he grabs a blanket, wrapping it around me before asking.

"What happened, Marie," he growls. Him saying my name is enough for me to understand his ire. In the week that I've known him, he has only said my name once. It's oddly comforting to hear him say it, knowing that his playfulness has left to make way for his seriousness. I'm hurt and he isn't happy about it.

"a knight snuck in," I finally answer," an-and he took me away from here. Then he…then he said some things I didn't agree with. He- I can't." I turn away, too terrified to repeat what happened. The feel of his fingers still lingers on my body. It was all too much, I can't even say it without wanting to cry. I hiccup, sniffling as my body trembles. "Please, I can't," I whimper," I can't."

Kodim holds me against his chest, petting at my hair," it's ok, I get it, you don't have to explain. I just need to know where he is, can you do that for me, princess?"

I nod," I left him near the right-wing. He found a crack in the wall to sneak in and I used it to get back here."

"good job, princess, you did great," he rubs his snout against my head, licking at my tear-stained cheeks," I have to go get him, you ok being alone for a second?" I startle at his request, grabbing at him in a flurry of panic.

"No, no. don't leave me, Kodim, please," I beg, not caring how pathetic I look. He grabs my hands, shushing me.

"it's ok, I won't let him come near you. I'm going to find him and he won't ever hurt you, understand," he asks, I nod," good, just rest in our nest and I'll be right back." I nod again.

He guides me to lay down, tucking pillows and blankets around me. Pressing a rough kiss to my hair he storms out the door, shutting it behind himself before his steps echo down the hall. I try not to think as I snuggle into the blankets and pillows. I try to think back to last night, not believing only hours ago I was truly happy. It was nice being there with Kodim, feeling all warm and fuzzy while I rest against his stomach.

A thunderous roar breaks my thoughts, the present trying to sneak back in. I push it aside, thinking about the long hours we've spent talking in this very room. The conversations about childhood and life, memories, and moments. I like Kodim more than I realized I would. This thought brings a smile to my face.

It's a good while later when the door opens. The stomping beforehand is warning enough. I don't move, just watching him toss a set of armor off the far corner before crawling into the nest. He walks around me, falling behind me with a soft thud. He reaches under the blanket, snaking his arm around my waist. Pulling me against his chest, he curls around me. His tail falls limp over my legs and his breath ghosts over my neck.

"how're you feeling," he mumbles against my head. I grab his hand against my stomach, giving it a squeeze.

"better now," I answer. He hums, leaning down to lick at my shoulder.

"Do you want to go home or stay here, I think it's time for you to have a choice," he bumps his snout against my head. I rub at his fingers, enjoying the warmth.

"I wanna stay here, if that's ok with you," I answer.

He nods," this home is yours as long as you wish. This nest is ours as far as anyone's concerned."

I smile, feeling safe, loved, and cherished at this moment. Shutting my eyes I let myself feel protected. I'm in my nest with my dragon, and everything is going to be ok.

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Hey hmm... what about Yandere!Dorm leaders with a S/O who just doenst really care that they are yandere? They don't really mind and find cute sometimes :) Please write if you wish to, please don't overwork yourself <33

My first yandere request! I’m not very good at yandere so I hope I did a good job. I finished Malleus’ after writing poetry so I had a hard time coming up with sentences that didn’t rhyme so his is a bit shorter than the rest. Anyways please enjoy!

Warnings: Yandere behavior, mentioned murder and violence, kidnapping, stalking, poisoning, stockholm syndrome, delusional/oc characters

Riddle:

The moment he saw you Riddle knew he was in love

He approached you with flowers everyday and was delighted when you always accepted them graciously

Would probably try to court you like a gentleman first

It’s unlikely that he will submit to the urge to lock you away until something serious happens

When someone else does touch his little rose he will snatch you up and bring you back to his room in Heartslabyul

Makes sure that you know not to leave unless he tells you that you can

He is not a violent yandere 

He knows that you love him and that you don’t mean to make him upset

When he lets you out he makes sure that Trey, Cater, Deuce, and Ace are there to keep an eye on you

You will never be out of their sight and when you are it is when you are lounging in Riddle’s room

Eventually he comes to trust that you won’t try to run away and leaves the door unlocked

He even turns the lock around so you can lock yourself in just in case a threat comes

Over the holidays he takes you with him and the two of you have a lovely time walking around his home town

The fact that anyone that doesn’t have his permission to approach you gets sudden injuries and bruises a day after you’ve spoken to them doesn’t go unnoticed

You simply tell yourself that he is such a sweet boyfriend to protect you from any threats

You tell him that you would like to talk to a specific person and he allows it only if you approached them first

When you accidentally do something to make him mad he starts to scream and puts your chain and collar on so you can’t leave

It’s alright though because he always has a good reason to be mad at you 

You call him over to cool down and hug him tightly repeating apologies and telling him how much you love him

No matter what you’ve done he can never stay mad at you for long

“My little rose, you are just perfect for me.”

Leona:

Leona doesn’t fall for you right away and even if he did it isn’t in a lions nature to charge out into the hunt without a strategy for success

He will watch you from a distance and study his feelings of interest towards you as if your relationship was a chess game and it was his move

When the time comes that Leona has decided that as the prey your guard is down enough for him to strike he will do so in a subtle and natural way to avoid drawing attention

Ruggie’s unique magic helps with this by leading you straight to his room

There he dresses you in the savannahs loveliest silks and gowns, beads and necklaces of gold are strung around your neck and limbs

You have a pair of gold cuffs encasing your wrists which lead to the wall behind you

Once he has organized you in a way that suits his taste he will have Ruggie deactivate his unique magic and leave

He expects you to freak out and is surprised when you stay relatively calm

He tells you that he is infatuated with you and that you are to love him back 

Of course he is caught off guard when you lean forwards as far as you can with the chains and kiss him gently

Soon he decides to test your loyalty to him and takes you out of the chains to sleep next to him at night

Leona purrs happily when he sees that you are not only still in bed with him but curled up against his side 

He won’t let you out unless you are with him or Ruggie though and you have to be within 6 feet of them at all times unless you have permission to wander further

Nearly any other male is not allowed to go near you

They can chat with you over text where Leona can check what is happening or if they do approach you he will snap his teeth at them and tell them to back off

Covers you in his scent every morning and every night just to make sure

When you return to the palace with him he has the servants treat you as if you were royalty yourself

If he gets jealous or angry he will be quick to remind you that you are his and belong to no one else

You literally will never leave his sight unless you have an uncovered and obvious bite mark and hickey

Falls asleep on your lap as you calmly braid his hair

“Hmm… A lion always catches his prey, and now your mine.”

Azul:

When Azul wants something he gets it

He has Jade and Floyd bring you to him where he is waiting with a beautiful room for you

He used his make a deal to have a student add another room directly next to his with a wall that is made of nearly entirely glass

Azul finds it incredibly amusing that you are behind glass when usually it’s the humans that put fish behind glass in aquariums

He is very insecure so it is unlikely that he will ever let you out unless you are accompanied by himself and the Leech twins

Brings you your school work and helps you study and pass

Will get you anything and everything you desire no matter what lengths he has to go to

If you get fussy he will slip a sedative into your drink and cuddle with you until you wake

It is unlikely that you get fussy about much since all he wants to do is make you happy

You enjoy your life in Azuls arms and let him snuggle with you whenever he wants

Gentle kisses in between reassuring words that you still love him even though he won’t take you to the carnival since you could get lost

When he does take you places it’s usually just around the school or to malls that aren’t very popular

If someone else approaches you besides the sales people and even them if Azul feels your safety is threatened he will send the twins to silently take care of the matter

You pretend not to notice how the news is featuring a new murder a few hours after you’ve arrived home after a day out 

He is very anxious that you won’t like his octopus form so it will take a while for you to coax him into showing you

Almost immediately after he transforms you throw yourself into his arms and ask him to wrap his tentacles around you

You call it the ultimate cuddle and he always blushes a deep red

“Oh no sweetheart, the festival has far too many people. I’ll bring stuff back for you that way no one ever has the chance to take you from me.”

Kalim:

A delusional lover the whole way

It never occurred to this sweetpea that you might not want to spend the rest of your life in a large gold cage filled with anything and everything you could possibly desire

The cage is huge and takes up most of the space in one of Scarabia’s unused rooms

Otherwise the room is decorated lavishly and around the edges piles of gold lay mixed with jewels and gorgeous silks

He calls you his most valuable treasure and says that not even a genie could make him happier

Jamil likely used snake whisperer on you to lure you into the cage for Kalim to keep you

You are a bit surprised at first and Jamil has to explain that you are here cause you are Kalim’s new lover

He is quite surprised when you simply accept it and return his hugs and kisses with enthusiasm

Every day he has you dressed in the most expensive silks and covered head to toe in jewels and gold

Will also simply sleep with you instead of using his own room

All of the food you eat or drink will be tested by a taste tester to avoid you falling ill with poison

This sweet baby boy will give you gifts everyday and bring you to see carnivals and festivals and parades of all sorts

You are also allowed to attend parties and such but only if your main accessory is a neck collar with a chain that leads to his wrist

Art will be painted of you all the time and he fixes you in a range of poses so that he can look at them whenever he wants and be reminded of you

Brings you to meet each of his siblings and helps you remember all their names and faces

Kalim will get jealous when they hug you 100% and pulls you back into his arms

Leads you away back to your cage where no one can reach you

“Main tumhen bahut pyaar karata hoon mera chhota sitaara” (“I love you so much my little star” in Hindi)

Vil:

Vil is the kinda person where if he wants something he will get it no matter what

He immediately sends Rook to hunt down and retrieve you

When he finally has you in his grasp he doesn’t even think about letting you go

You will be his forever

Keeps you in chains disguised as jewelry and gives you enough length to wander around his room but not enough to reach the door

He does your makeup and hair beautifully every morning and coordinates your outfits as well

Will spend hours taking care of your skin and body

Baths with him every night where he massages creams and serums into your skin for hours

He loves how by the end of it you are so relaxed and sleepy that when he unchains you and pulls you into bed there is no resistance

His insecurities lead him to believe that no that he has you and you have seen him without the thousands of layers of makeup that you will be repulsed by him

It very much isn’t the case and when you sense he is feeling insecure you will pull him close to you and tell him how beautiful he is

It takes forever to convince him to let you out of his room

Hours of snuggles and reassuring words that you won’t leave is the only thing that helps him let you go

Even then it is unlikely that he will let you leave Pomefiore

When he feels comfortable enough he may let you walk the grounds with him or if he’s in a good mood you can go by yourself

Rook is still positioned to watch you just in case though

Vil will use you as a muse for photo shoots all the time

He dresses you up and brings you to a beautiful area of the dorm and take hundreds of pictures of you

He only shares a few with the world though

He likes to think he is taunting people with the beauty that he has but they can not grasp

The rest are something that he looks at frequently to calm down and feel happy

His favorite pictures are the ones where you are wearing his crown

“Your beauty surpasses even mine, my queen. Even more reason to never let another person have you.”

Idia:

His entire life Idia has suffered from major social anxiety and insecurities 

So when he meets you and he doesn’t feel anxious at all he knows that he will never come across another person like you again

He invites you over to play video games and locks the door behind him

When you aren’t paying attention he puts a small collar around your neck

You can’t get it off but it doesn’t really bother you that much

It is small and light so there was no reason

It’s probably just his way of giving you jewelry

However when you go to leave, the second your hand touches the door knob a strange feeling enters your body and you go unconscious

When you wake he explains that he is very sorry but he just had to have you

Lets you know in a very scary voice that his room is completely soundproof and the collar will knock you out anytime you touch the door

Essentially it’s impossible to leave and no one is coming to save you

After he locks himself in his bathroom and cries for almost an hour because he is so horrified by his own actions

Not horrified enough to let you go though

In the beginning you have a bit of a hard time adjusting to life in Idia’s room but eventually you begin to develop the same anxiety as him

You couldn’t even think about leaving for the fear that something might happen to you

The only way you can stay safe is with him and in his room

You liked him in the first place so it didn’t particularly bother you that he had kidnapped you in order to make you like him

However, the case of Stockholm syndrome became quite extreme

Idia relished the way that you shook when he decided to take you for a walk and he never got tired of you begging him to stay and keep you safe in his room

He taught you all about his video games and how to play each one

You became almost as proficient as him although when you played against each other he often let you win

Ortho loves you to pieces

Not only does he get a new big sister but his big brother has someone to socialize with

If only he could convince you to go outside as well

“What if you get sick. Oh no there is no way I would let that happen to you. Just stay in here with me. You will be safe in my room forever.”

Malleus:

Humans are just so fragile he has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that you are able to survive on your own

This just won’t do

He has Lilia pick you up and bring you to him as soon as he hears that you got a scratch from a bush you walked past earlier that day

Sleeping spells to keep you from waking as he tends to your wounds and puts a magical barrier around his room

You will never be allowed to leave without him there to protect you

The world is a dangerous place and as a weak human there is a low chance of survival

It will be alright though because with him you will always be safe and happy

He uses his royal status to have you treated like a queen

Anything you want is yours and honey the sky's the limit

Even things that money can’t buy it will be yours

Everything except for your freedom

Not that you mind

Being fawned over and spoiled by the man you like is a dream come true and more than you could have ever asked for

Every day you appreciate all the time and attention he gives you as he makes sure you are healthy and have everything you want

He also teaches you everything he knows about being elegant and graceful

Claims that it will be necessary in order for you to become the future queen of the valley of thorns

Long dances followed by sweet kisses and etiquette lessons rewarded by cuddles fill your days

He allows you the opportunity to walk with him at night underneath the stars and tells you how beautiful you are in the dark

“Even if I have to kill to keep you. You will be mine forever.”

[ginevranights]

The Rose

Pairing: Neal Caffrey x Female! Reader

Co-writer: @bathed-in-lilac 

Summary: Early in his career as a con man, Neal Caffery met a woman who went by the name ‘Victoria Rose’ Aka Y/N L/N. Soon after, he realises she’s also a con artist and he falls for her...hard. However, Y/N seems to be the only one of them who realises that maybe people in her profession don’t get to find love.

A/N: So...if your name's Victoria Rose 1) cool name! 2) for the sake of this fanfic you can imagine a different first name used...I guess Grace. Anyway… this was co-written by the wonderful bathed-in-lilac and honestly I could not have written this without her. She literally wrote everything I got stuck on and helped me develop my ideas. So thank you so much!

Warnings: Spoiler for White Collar I guess. It has been out for over 10 years now.

Words: 2800

--------------- & ---------------              

{Paris-----&-----2000}

Y/N L/N was not a name that one would find on the invite list and yet here she was, standing on the balcony of an engagement party she wasn’t invited to, staring out over Paris. She was wearing a simple dress, appropriate for the occasion, and had jewellery that screamed ‘I have money!’ Whether the jewellery was actually expensive was another matter…

She had gotten into the party using the name ‘Victoria Rose’. Victoria was a distant family member of the future groom and she ran a successful flower business in cities like London, New York and - of course - Paris. Y/N L/N, however, was a con artist. And a good one at that.

“You’re not a fan of choreographed dances?” Y/N turns around and is faced with gorgeous blue eyes that belong to a handsome brunette. Y/N blinks slightly but takes a sip of her drink.

“You’d think a couple with such impeccable wine taste would know that choreographed dances are cheesy and tacky.”

“Point taken,” the man nods and stands next to her, putting a hand out in greeting. “Nick Halden.”

“Victoria Rose,” ‘Nick’ places a gentle kiss to Y/N’s palm and she smiles slightly “such a gentleman.” 

“Are you on the bride or groom’s side?” 

“Groom’s,” Y/N lies “I’m assuming you’re on the bride’s side?”

“Yeah,” ‘Nick’ nods. “I’m happy for her, it seems like he’s a good one. I mean, by the looks of that ring, she probably won’t have to work another day in her life. I mean, they have to keep that thing in a safe. It probably costs a fortune.” Y/N inwardly smirks, she knew this tactic, it seemed Nick Halden may be someone of the same profession. It was time to change the subject.

“Who needs a big flashy ring when you’re in love?” Y/N asks with a small smile “I mean did Romeo and Juliet give each other anything fancy? No. And their love story is famously one of the best. It was tragic, yes. But it was… beautiful in a way.”

“You sound like you haven’t found your love story yet…” 

“No… no I haven't and I don’t think I will. My job involves me moving around a lot and it’s hard to find someone. Actually...I don’t even really know if I want someone,”

“Everyone wants love… in one way or another. Maybe you just need to find someone who’ll fit your lifestyle,” ‘Nick’ says slowly, maintaining eye contact with Y/N.

“Hm, and on that note, I need more wine,” she waves her empty glass and heads back inside, sparing a glance at the man she was never going to see again. It was a polite conversation that would go nowhere. She was more prepared; she was taking the ring tonight and he didn’t have a clue where it was even stored.

{Neal’s hotel-----&-----Later that night}

Later that night, Neal Caffery and Y/N L/N returned to their respective hotels, one with a two and a half million-euro engagement ring, the other an anxious expression as he prepared to tell his co-conspirator that the ring was already gone when he got there.

“How did this happen?!” Neal was silent as Mozzie stared down at him. “Okay, start over. Tell me everything you did. Somebody else must have known what you were going to do and got there before you.” 

“I don’t know what happened, Mozz. I barely talked to anybody there. The only person I properly talked to was some woman for a couple of minutes and she didn’t seem like a threat.”

“Neal…” Mozzie sighed and pinched his nose, clearly exasperated. “What was her name?”

“It was Victoria something…like the queen, y’know? She was pretty enough to be royalty, and she said she was related to the groom -”

“Neal, I don’t care. I need her name,” Neal takes a moment. He remembered a flower…

“Oh! Yeah, I think her name was Victoria Rose.”

“Victoria Rose? Victoria Rose?! That’s who you chose to talk to?!”

“Yes Mozz! What’s so important about her?”

“Neal you’re an idiot.”

“What, why? What did I do? It’s not my fault somebody else got to the ring first.”

“Well, seeing as you were talking to Victoria Rose it sort of is your fault.”

“Mozzie, I still have no idea who that is. Besides, I’m sure we can find another ring, expensive engagement rings aren't that rare,”

“Neal...you just met one of the best con artists. To the criminal world, she’s a myth, to the feds, she doesn’t even exist,” Mozzie muttered, eyes narrowed as he looked in Neal’s direction. “Nobody even knows her real name.”

“Oh really?” Neal tilted his head curiously, the words clearly not having the effect that Mozzie wanted them to. Instead, Neal let a faint smirk appear on his face “That’s kinda-”

“Nope… nope, I don’t want to hear it.”.

{Edinburgh-----&-----2000}

Y/N didn’t know the people who threw the party, but she did know some fellow...colleagues she had to speak to. Although, that business was over quickly and she had time to mingle. She had grabbed another glass of champagne when he had come up to her “I love your alleged work,”

“You didn’t even know who I was a few months ago,”

“That’s a compliment to you,” Y/N had looked into those blue eyes again and decided she could stay to chat. He’d introduced himself properly and she’d been shocked that this was who her New York contacts were talking about - Mozzie’s new partner. She’d given him her current allies and he’d raised an eyebrow. However, that didn't stop them from talking for hours and when the countdown started, Y/N had let him place a gentle kiss to her lips before disappearing… it was tradition.

{Italy-----&-----2001}

When Y/N snuck into a gallery that night in Italy, she had definitely not expected to see Neal standing there - she was always shocked when he appeared. He had been entirely unaware of her presence when she first made her way into the main room, instead he was focused entirely on the gallery’s main exhibit: the chandelier. Y/N had decided to change that, slipping on a faint smile as she made her way toward where he was standing. She tapped him on the shoulder, relishing in the amusement she felt when he jumped. He had turned around and, for some reason, he seemed to smile when he saw that it was her. It was almost as though he was happy.

“Good evening, Mr. Halden,” she had said, a sly smile on her face. “It is still Halden, isn’t it?”

There had been no verbal response, simply a faint hum and a nod of his head. She had watched him, an amused expression on her face as his eyes met hers. Whilst Y/N was wondering if he was also here to check the gallery's security, he was distracted by her eyes. Given that information, it was no surprise when he turned and fell face first into the chandelier on display. It had tumbled to the ground with a loud crash and, before she could even think about what she was doing, Y/N had grabbed Neal by the hand and tugged him toward the door. That night they both got away and, when Neal kissed Y/N’s cheek in thanks, nobody would have known about the heat rapidly rising up her body.

{Monte Carlo-----&-----2002}

The next time they met, Neal was the shocked one. He had been in the middle of replacing a painting that had just been delivered to the museum with his own forgery when Y/N had appeared out of nowhere. She was dressed like any female thief would be and was obviously also surprised to see him nicking a painting. She’d raised an eyebrow and made some confusing hand gestures, to which he had responded with even more gestures. Neal couldn’t believe it was the ‘myth’ con artist Mozzie had named ‘The Rose’ who just sighed and left the gallery. She’d let him take the actual painting with no fuss. She could’ve gone to the police and gotten the competition out of the way. Instead, he got a free drink at the bar later that night and a note saying he should think about making some original artwork. Neal had realised there and then, he may have a little crush on ‘The Rose’.

{London-----&-----2003} 

 After that night, Neal and Y/N met frequently at museums, parties, galas, basically anywhere with anything of any value inside. And at some point, they stopped meeting at those places and started meeting at hotels instead. Hotels where they'd get drunk and stumble into bed, clothes covering the floor. Hotels where they'd wake up wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about nothing and everything at once. But still… Neal didn’t know her real name. 

That seemed like centuries ago now though, as they lay in their latest hotel bed. It was early morning, the light from the sun just barely managing to light up the room with its warm golden glow. It was that golden sunlight that ended up waking up the couple that was still tangled in each other’s arms. Neal woke up first, slowly blinking his eyes open and then glancing down at Y/N who was starting to wake up. She made a faint humming sound as she rested her head against Neal’s chest and then pressed gentle kisses to the side of his neck. He smiled at her, one hand beginning to gently card through her hair. When she mumbled good morning to him, he could feel her words warm against his skin.

There was something about the situation that just felt so right. It was almost as if it had been designed this way. They were supposed to work perfectly together. Still holding her close to his chest, Neal leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. He thought about how wonderful it would be if he could just stay here forever. If only things could be that easy. He knew that maybe their lives were just meant to be complicated. It almost seemed fitting that Romeo and Juliet had been the first thing they talked about.

“I’ve been thinking…” Neal starts, testing his voice out for the day

“Hmm, that’s never good,” Y/N responds quickly, her voice croaky as she snuggles her head further into his chest.

“When we met... you mentioned Romeo and Juliet, but you never told me if you were a fan of Shakespeare.”

“No, it was just the first example I could think of and a good excuse to change the subject,” Y/N laughs slightly.

“I think you’re lying. Or I think that deep down you want something like that; you like romance.”

“Do I? Well then maybe you should step it up a bit because this is not the beautiful love story idea I had that night.”

“It could be,” he whispered slowly. “We could move to Paris. I mean, we could go right now - run away. Take the train on the Eurotunnel across to France and ignore everything and everyone.”

“That’s a nice dream to have, but that’s all it is, isn’t it? A dream? We can’t actually have that.”

“But why not? What’s stopping us?”

“I… I just can’t. I’m sorry,” she whispered, a regretful expression on her face.

“At least tell me your name. Please?”

“Let’s just go with Juliet....”

 {2009-----&-----2012}

Things became more complicated after Neal got sent to prison. However, there was still something pulling them together - an unexplainable force. Y/N kept her distance for a time, but she couldn’t keep herself from meeting with him once she had heard about Kate. She was worried about him. She knew him well enough to realize that he needed somebody to check up on him. That’s the only reason she was going: to make sure he was okay. She wasn’t there to get back together with him because she knew she didn’t have the energy to try. All she wanted was to make sure he was okay so that she could stop worrying and move on with her life.

Of course, things didn’t go the way Y/N had hoped. Neal had charmed her the moment she saw him in one of those damn suits and soon, she was finding herself meeting up with him again, and again...and again. She couldn’t remove herself from the situation. She knew Neal worked for the FBI now and one wrong move could destroy her, yet she was always going back to him.

The restaurant Neal chose looked lovely that night. Y/N had been sent a rather formal invite and she realised immediately that Neal had told the owners it was a special occasion. Was it going to be? The table had been set and a vase of roses served as the centrepiece. The two had sat down to talk and Neal’s reason for inviting her over was soon made clear. He wanted her to stay.

Of course, they’d started with small talk. They spoke about Y/N’s hotel, the weather along with traffic and strangely the latest art thefts. But soon, the topic moved to the mornings when the two would lay in different beds and talk about their future. When Neal would suggest they fly to Paris and settle down.

“I know it may not be Paris...but what if you moved here. What if we spent more than a night together?” Y/N hadn’t known how to respond, but she let him talk, she let him fantasize. Neal seemed to have everything planned out, he wanted her to move to New York, he wanted her to settle down with him and the way he spoke about it… made sure that Y/N could never refuse.

She couldn’t stop herself from nodding and letting herself get lost in the dream Neal was talking about. Maybe she could actually move to New York and forget about her old life. No one knew who she was, she could tell Neal her real name and she could get a job, an actual legal job.

Once Neal was sure Y/N had agreed, he started rambling, an excited look taking over his face whilst he started explaining what their life was and could be like. He’d told her about his work, about his colleagues and his newfound family. Y/N could barely believe that he was talking about the same Peter who had hunted him across the globe for years.

Eventually the night had ended and the two parted ways yet again. Neal had offered to take her back to his place, but Y/N had laughed slightly and declined. Neal being Neal was prepared for this, and so he brought out the rose which was on the centre of their table and tucked it behind her ear. Y/N blushed and quickly left, kissing Neal briefly before setting down the street smiling. 

Her mood was quickly ruined though. She’d stopped to quickly read through the news headlines on the day’s papers - as one does when you know many criminals. One had caught her eye and as she read the article, she realised that the crew that had approached her a few days ago with a job, had been arrested by ‘Peter Burke and his criminal consultant’. She’d almost taken that job…

Now in a panic, she turned around and saw Neal still there, smiling fondly as he waved. She ignored him though and rushed off, disappearing into the nightlife of New York.

It was dangerous being around him, Y/N had always known that but when she had sat at that table and listened to him talk so fondly about Special Agent Peter Burke, she realised he had grown comfortable with his life. Everything she had, everything she had worked so hard for could be taken away just because of Neal Caffrey. He had too much power over her and she knew that the moment she had blindly agreed to moving to New York. And so, after that dinner she decided it was time, time to say goodbye to him. She’d made promises she knew she could never keep. After all, she was a con artist, and perhaps the greatest con she ever pulled was letting herself believe that her and Neal could be happy.

[hafanforever]

Tyrant Terror

So I know it’s no surprise to my closest friends and fellow Disney fans on Tumblr that I have a strong, deep affinity for villains, including those by Disney. And over the last several months, the more I wrote about King Runeard in my Frozen II analyses, the more I realized what made him a tyrant, albeit a secret one, and that led me to think about other villains in the Disney animated canon who were tyrants.

The thing is, while most historical tyrants were people of royalty, you don’t necessarily have to be a monarch in order to be a tyrant. The definition of a tyrant isn’t limited to being a KING or QUEEN who is openly cruel, hostile, harsh, uncaring, oppressive, persecuting, and unjust towards the people they rule. I mean, that is one way to express tyranny, and probably the most famous way it is and has been done. But what it really means for a person to be called a tyrant is being in a position of power, authority, and/or control over other people and MISUSING, to the point of ABUSING, that position, and often for that tyrant's own selfish desires rather than in the best interest of the people being ruled by the tyrant.

So from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to Frozen II, there are a handful of tyrannical antagonists who are indeed monarchs, such as the Queen of Hearts, Prince John, and Scar, but also plenty others who are not. There are tyrants who are corrupt government officials, such as Governor Ratcliffe, Frollo, and Bellwether, and even those who wield magic, such as Maleficent, Ursula, and Jafar. And like the villainous monarchs, the non-monarch villains prove themselves as tyrants all because they abuse their positions of power, magic or non-magic power, and authority that they have over other characters. In fact, there are even a couple of heroic characters who start off more as protagonist villains because they display tyrannical behavior before they become better people. On the contrary, the main antagonist enemies of these tyrant heroes serve as darker reflections of what the latter characters could have become had they not learned the error of their ways.

Below is my list of all the villains from Walt Disney Animation Studios that I perceive as tyrants, from monarchs to government officials to sorcerers, and what scenes in their respective movies depict them displaying tyrannical behavior. I even listed villains that would have become tyrants had they succeeded in their longterm goals.

Monarchs

The Evil Queen: Though we never see her actively governing her kingdom on screen, the abuse that the evil queen displays in her authority over Snow White by dressing her stepdaughter in rags and forcing her to work as a maid in an attempt to make her (Snow White) unattractive makes her a tyrant for sure. Furthermore, the way she mocks the skeletal remains of a prisoner in her dungeon suggests the queen is indeed a cruel, tyrannical ruler.

Queen of Hearts: If we want to consider the epitome of a true tyrant that is a monarch from Disney, it can be safely assumed that that role belongs to the Queen of Hearts. While every resident of Wonderland is insane in some way, the Queen is the most dangerous one of all by being the ruler of the land. An egotist extraordinaire, she loves to get her way, insisting that “All ways are MY ways!” and enjoys hearing the words “Yes, Your Majesty”. The Queen outwardly abuses her authority and power over her subjects by becoming furious over even the smallest of matters, during which she loses her literally explosive temper and flies into violent rages. She is also extremely irrational and unjust in making decisions, primarily by utilizing executions as her only and immediate solution to any problem, especially whenever she feels someone has wronged her, while also refusing to let the individuals she wants beheaded explain their sides of the stories. Enraged upon seeing her white roses painted red, when she misses a shot in croquet, and when she becomes the target of a prank caused by the Cheshire Cat, the Queen sentences those she deems responsible to death by beheading. All of this proves just how much she persecutes and oppresses the residents of Wonderland, instilling only fear and intimidation into their hearts. (A pun that is VERY much intended by me, the Queen of Puns! 😆😆😆)

Prince John: While possessing a short temper that isn’t nearly as explosive and violent as that of the Queen of Hearts, Prince John is displayed to be extremely incompetent as the ruler of England during the time that King Richard is off fighting in the Crusades. Stingy and greedy, the prince continually finds ways to rob and swindle his people in pursuit of wealth for himself. John shows absolutely no care that the harsh laws he decrees to gain more money drive the citizens of Nottingham into poverty and starvation, and he even cruelly mocks them on their poor states by saying, “Rob the poor to feed the rich!”. After the villagers start making fun of him with the song “The Phony King of England”, John punishes them by further increasing the tax payments. Soon everyone in Nottingham is stripped of their money and they are put in prison due to their inability to pay their taxes.

Horned King: Even though the Queen of Hearts projects herself as the ideal example of a royal tyrant, she is far less evil and scary than the Horned King. A skeletal creature with green, rotting flesh, the Horned King is completely frightening in appearance and in personality. Malicious, cruel, malevolent, sinister, power-hungry, megalomaniacal, ruthless, and merciless, he is the epitome of a tyrant who is nothing but purely and completely evil. His goal is to find the infamous Black Cauldron and use its powers to unleash an army of immortal warriors called the Cauldron Born in order to become immortal and conquer the world.

Scar: Denied a legitimate chance to succeed Mufasa as the King of the Pride Lands once Simba is born, Scar schemes to have both of them killed to become king. After murdering Mufasa and believing that Simba has been killed as well, Scar ascends to the throne. However, because he allows the hyenas unrestricted hunting rights in the Pride Lands, their overeating leads to a shortage of food, and a drought leads to other animal herds moving away. Ultimately, these events turn the kingdom into a barren wasteland under Scar’s reign, leaving it completely devoid of green vegetation, water, and food sources. Incredibly lazy and incompetent as a ruler, and caring about nothing except the power and authority that being king gives him, Scar refuses to accept that his allowance of the hyenas overeating is what leads to the destruction of the Pride Lands. He instead blames it on Sarabi and the other lionesses since the hyenas complained to him that they refuse to go hunt. When she suggests they leave Pride Rock to survive, Scar obstinately rejects the idea, not at all caring that he has essentially sentenced them to death. He argues that his place as king puts him in the right for whatever he decides to do: “I am the king! I can do whatever I want!”

King Runeard: In his life, Runeard openly presented himself as a peaceful, generous leader to the people of Arendelle AND the Northuldra. But Elsa discovers from his snowy manifestation in Ahtohallan that he did not trust the Northuldra just because they followed magic. Despite his kingdom having seen him as a benevolent ruler, the face the figure of Runeard makes as he sneers "of a king!" implies that only really cared about himself as well the power and authority he had in being a king. Therefore, he secretly misused and abused it whenever the opportunity came along. This is displayed perfectly when Runeard had the dam constructed in the Enchanted Forest, presenting it as a gift to the Northuldra. He claimed that it would strengthen their land, but admitted only to the second-in-command that the dam’s effects would be just the opposite. This was all part of Runeard’s subtle plan to destroy the Northuldra, as he feared they would try to usurp him and take over Arendelle using their magical ties.

Government Officials/Authority Figures

Lady Tremaine: Like the evil queen before her, Lady Tremaine has control and authority over Cinderella once the latter’s father dies, and misuses it by turning Cinderella into her servant. Day after day for ten years, Lady Tremaine orders and bosses Cinderella around, forces her to do every single bit of housework and menial task for her and the former’s daughters, and subjects the poor girl to an endless cycle of abuse and torment. When Cinderella is accused by Anastasia of putting Gus under the latter’s teacup, her stepmother refuses to let her explain the truth and unfairly punishes her with extra chores. Later, Lady Tremaine falsely promises Cinderella she may attend the ball if she finds a suitable dress and finishes her chores, but gives her chore after chore to do to keep her from working on her dress. After Cinderella appears wearing the dress her mouse and bird friends fixed up for her, Lady Tremaine subtly and cruelly manipulates Drizella and Anastasia into destroying it so that she can appear to be fair in her side of the bargain (”If you can find something suitable to wear”) while simultaneously keeping Cinderella from going to the ball in the first place. The following morning, when she realizes Cinderella was the mysterious girl who danced with the prince at the ball, Lady Tremaine follows her stepdaughter up to her room and locks her in to prevent her from trying on the glass slipper when the Duke arrives with it.

Sheriff of Nottingham: Despite not being the main antagonist of Robin Hood, the Sheriff of Nottingham is as much of a tyrant over the town as Prince John is to it and the entirety of England. This is because he is abusive, ruthless, and completely unsympathetic towards the people’s poverty and continually demands that they pay their taxes, regardless of what other problems they may have that hinders them from doing so. It is because of the Sheriff’s harsh decree of taxes, and then by that of Prince John once the latter takes up residence in Nottingham, that the town’s citizens are driven into poverty. The cruel, immoral way the Sheriff collects taxes includes forcing out the coins Otto had hidden in his leg cast, not caring that his act was causing the blacksmith pain from his broken leg, confiscating the one farthing Skippy had been given for his birthday and insincerely wishing him a happy birthday, and taking the single farthing that was in the Friar Tuck’s church's poor box and laughing as he did it.

Ratigan: A notorious crime lord, Ratigan is the leader of a gang of thugs comprised primarily of mice, but also including a bat named Fidget, who is his second-in-command. Although they willingly help their boss with his crimes, they also participate out of fear for their own lives. Ratigan is an abusive tyrant to his minions and threatens to feed them to his cat Felicia if they ever do something that angers him, even if it occurs unintentionally. This is shown after one of his drunken thugs calls him a rat during "The World’s Greatest Criminal Mind”, and Ratigan threatens his other minions with the same fate if they do not keep singing. Ratigan’s latest scheme is to take over London by murdering the Mouse Queen during her Diamond Jubilee celebration and secretly replacing her with a lifelike robot. He and his thugs (who are disguised as royal guards) infiltrate Buckingham Palace and kidnap the Queen, who is taken to be fed to Felicia by Fidget. As the Diamond Jubilee takes place, the Robot Queen names Ratigan as her new "Royal Consort", and Ratigan, dressed in an ornate robe, immediately presents himself in front of the gathered citizens of Mousedom, terrifying them. He then proceeds to read over his long list of tyrannical laws, one of which is a heavy tax policy for people he deems "parasites", including the elderly, infirm, and children.

Governor Ratcliffe: A completely unscrupulous and greedy man, Ratcliffe leads John Smith and other sailors on an expedition to Virginia to find gold, but he secretly plans to keep all discovered riches for himself. Upon their arrival to America, he forces all of the settlers to dig around their encampment, but refuses to do any manual labor himself out of his own sheer laziness. When no gold turns up in the searches, Ratcliffe becomes greedily convinced that it is because the Native Americans are hoarding it. He refuses to believe John's claim that there is no gold around the land, claiming that the Powhatans’ land is his land for the taking and that he makes the laws. After John is captured by the Powhatans, as they believed he murdered Kocoum, Ratcliffe takes it as the opportunity to take the non-existent gold from them, but claiming to his men that it is a rescue mission.

Judge Claude Frollo: Perhaps the darkest and most malevolent of all Disney Villains in animation (aside from the Horned King), Frollo uses his position as the Minister of Justice in the city of Paris to enrich himself and persecute anyone and everyone he considers inferior. He especially holds a deep-seated hatred for the gypsies and plots to eradicate them from the city. Despite his dark deeds, Frollo refuses to find any fault within himself and he truly believes he is a good person who is only trying to rid the world of sin and malice. Any time he commits a crime or is about to do one, he makes excuses to justify them, saying he is doing it in the eyes of God and that his victims are the ones who are really at fault. After chasing and murdering Quasimodo’s mother since he believed that the bundle she was carrying was stolen goods, Frollo attempts to murder Quasimodo since he believes the latter’s deformity makes him an unholy demon. Years later, after trapping Esmeralda in Notre Dame and upon discovering that she has escaped, he launches a ruthless manhunt around the city to find her, burning down the houses of anyone suspected of sheltering gypsies (including an innocent miller and his family, who survive thanks to Phoebus’s intervention) and interrogating gypsies who are captured. During the climax, Frollo makes the excuse that Esmeralda has proven herself to be a witch and will be executed by burned at the stake as her sentence.

Hades: The reluctant ruler of the Underworld and Lord of the Dead, Hades abuses his authoritative role by subjecting his lackeys Pain and Panic to harsh mistreatment whenever they fail a task assigned to them and any other time they do or say something that angers their boss. The two imps only put up with Hades’s abuse not so much out of loyalty to him, but out of deep fear for him. When he discovers that the two did not succeed in killing Hercules as a baby, Hades furiously grabs both Pain and Panic by their necks and chokes them as he demands they explain themselves. Later, after Hercules becomes a famous hero in Thebes, Pain and Panic adorn themselves with some of the hero’s merchandise, much to their boss’s complete ire.

Shan Yu: The ruthless yet respected leader of the Hun army, Shan Yu is an extremely dark, merciless, and dangerous individual determined to take control of China. His thought-to-be impossible feat of getting through the Great Wall to invade China soon makes him notorious and feared throughout the entire country. In his journey to the Imperial City, Shan Yu and his army destroy one village, then slaughter the entire Imperial Army and residents in another village at the Tung Shao Pass in the mountains. He and five of his elite soldiers are the only ones who survive a snow avalanche caused by Mulan. When the group arrives at the Imperial City and take control of the palace, Shan Yu orders the Emperor to bow to him, and decides to kill him when the latter adamantly refuses to do so.

Turbo: Initially believed to be the ruler of the game Sugar Rush, King Candy is secretly Turbo, a racer from the old game TurboTime who was believed to have died after his game was permanently unplugged. Having stolen the throne from Vanellope Von Schweetz, the true ruler, Turbo turns her into a glitch and makes himself the ruler of her kingdom. While he is viewed as eccentric and flamboyant, yet jovial and benevolent, to his subjects, Turbo is extremely obsessive and possessive of his new royal status. He continuously lusts for power and authority and goes to great lengths to secretly abuse his position, not just by allowing the other racers to ruthlessly torment Vanellope, but especially by keeping Vanellope from racing so that she cannot regain the role he had stolen from her.

Bellwether: The epitome of the famous phrase “a wolf in sheep’s clothing”, Dawn Bellwether pretends to be sweet, meek, and friendly to successfully hide her true prejudiced, ruthless, embittered nature. Initially the overworked assistant mayor of Zootopia to its mayor Leodore Lionheart, Bellwether secretly hates him and all predators, viewing them as nothing more than savage, dangerous monsters. In her scheme to overthrow him, take control of the city, and drive all predators out of Zootopia, Bellwether becomes the leader of a secret organization of sheep terrorists who create a serum from night howlers to turn predators feral. This would give the illusion that they were biologically reverting back to their "primitive savage ways" and eventually be regarded as too dangerous for society, allowing only prey animals to take up the entire population. However, in her goal to become the mayor of Zootopia, rather than subjecting Lionheart to becoming savage, Bellwether instead develops her plot to ensure that he is removed from office and his positive reputation amongst the citizens is ruined, allowing her to rise to power in his place.

Magic Users

Maleficent: Known as The Mistress of All Evil, Maleficent is a ruthless tyrant who rules her own subjects at her home, the Forbidden Mountain. Using her dark magic, she continuously abuses her power and authority over her minions, particularly whenever they display incompetence and stupidity. This is shown when Maleficent flies into a rage and attacks them with her magic upon realizing that, over the last 16 years in their search for Aurora, they were only looking for a baby, not realizing in their idiocy that Aurora would be growing up.

Ursula: Known for her dark reputation as a sea witch, Ursula was banished from Atlantica by Triton. She explains in “Poor Unfortunate Souls” that she uses her magic to help merfolk attain their deepest desires and only imprisons them if they can’t keep their side of the bargain. However, after she takes Ariel’s voice away and turns the latter into a human to try and win Eric’s heart, Ursula reveals she has no intention of letting Ariel follow through with kissing Eric to remain human. She proves herself to be a tyrant because all she really does is backstab the merpeople with whom she makes deals in order to ensure that only HER desires are met! When she bargains with Triton so he will surrender himself to her in exchange for Ariel’s freedom, Ursula steals his crown and trident, then grows to giant size, declaring herself the ruler of the entire ocean.

Jafar: Unbeknownst to the Sultan of Agrabah, his Royal Vizier Jafar plots to take control of the kingdom, and he needs the Genie of the lamp from the Cave of Wonders to pull off this feat. Once the lamp is in his possession, Jafar succeeds with his first to become sultan. But after Jasmine and her father refuse to bow to him, he wishes to become the most powerful sorcerer in the world to have an even greater amount of power. During his brief reign, Jafar proves himself to be a tyrant by turning Agrabah into a dystopian wasteland, dressing the Sultan as a living marionette and allowing him to be abused by Iago, and making Jasmine his own slave girl.

Tyrants-Turned-Heroes

The Beast: From the time he is cursed and until he finally starts to soften, the spoiled behavior the prince had before his curse remains. He is aggressive, rude, impatient, and frequently and easily loses his temper when something annoys or irritates him. Primarily due to his short temper, the Beast acts like a tyrant towards his servants because he is mean and cruel to them as he gives them orders, which makes them deeply afraid of him. Only on some occasions do they openly rebel against him or talk back to him, such as Mrs. Potts ordering the Beast to act more like a gentleman around Belle, and both her and Lumiere deciding to feed Belle despite being told that she was not allowed to eat unless she ate with the Beast.

Kuzco: In the beginning, Kuzco is very arrogant, lazy, selfish, and self-absorbed, viewing himself as superior to all simply for being the emperor. He rules his empire completely without the best interest of his people and always seeks to have his way, never showing any concern over the chances things could turn out badly for other people involved. This is shown when he sets his sights on building his summer home of Kuzcotopia on the top of the hill where Pacha, Pacha’s family, and other villagers reside. Since the plan will only benefit himself, Kuzco shows absolutely no care or concern that destroying Pacha’s village to build Kuzcotopia will render the residents homeless.

Would-Be Tyrants

Gaston: From what I described about him in “Bride and Prejudice” with his growing obsession with Belle and his low, inferior views of women, there is no doubt in my mind that, had Gaston succeeded in marrying Belle and starting a family with her, he would have run his household like a tyrant. He would be very controlling to the point of being physically abusive to his wife in order to get her to obey every single one of his commands and orders. Like many of the tyrants I listed above, Gaston would undoubtedly use fear and intimidation to keep his wife in her proper place of being beneath him, and he would instill these same feelings on to his own children.

Yzma: Her ire drawn after Kuzco remorselessly fires her, a furious Yzma decides to kill him so that she can take over the empire. While Kuzco is initially selfish, callous, and uncaring towards his staff and people living in his empire, he learns to change his ways by the end of the film. Had Yzma succeeded in her goal, she would have been far more of a selfish, ruthless tyrant than Kuzco was at first. This is evident during her introduction scene, which is one of many times she governs the empire whenever Kuzco is not present. As a peasant complains to her that he and his family are suffering from limited food sources, Yzma spitefully says his problem is of no concern to her, and that the man should have realized this ahead of time.

Hans: While taking over as temporary ruler of Arendelle in both Elsa and Anna’s absence, Hans wins the hearts of the people by acting as a kind, caring, benevolent ruler during the harsh conditions brought on by Elsa’s magical winter. Though he reveals his true, dark nature to Anna and his plot to take control of Arendelle, the fact that he earned the trust and respect of the Arendellians suggest that Hans could truly have been a very worthy ruler. However, now that we have Frozen II and it revealed that Runeard was actually a malevolent tyrant behind the same kind of benevolent facade that Hans used, there is no doubt in my mind that had he succeeded in stealing Arendelle’s throne, Hans also would have become a ruthless, power-hungry, selfish tyrant in secret.

[misiwrites]

Beyblade Week Day 1

joining @beybladeweek2021 late but i’ll probably be doing these belatedly all may so, whatever! it is what it is.

i’ve never participated in a fandom challenge with writing before, but i was feeling adventurous this time and the seasonal themes were just perfect for the 4kingdoms AU-verse (which is this), i haven’t been writing much anything in so long that i’m mega rusty and thought i could use the bey week to do some warm-up oneshots. these aren’t going to be particularly interesting because i’m really bad at doing oneshots actually, but i like the idea myself and. that’s the only thing that really matters. right. (i’m not even sure if AUs are allowed for the beyblade week?? but the rules didn’t say anything about it so /shrug)

the day 1 oneshot is a little story from takao’s childhood about how he first met kyouju. this was inspired by my own childhood memories as the youngest sibling when i just wanted to hang out around my big sisters because i thought everything they were doing was Cool Big Sister Stuff.

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Firsts / Childhood / Spring

”Takao! I’m trying to read this! Leave me alone already, will you?”

A groan of disappointment. Reluctantly, Takao backs away from his older brother by the desk, shooting him a frown of judgment and betrayal. Now, a quick change of tactics: he figures that, just maybe, Hitoshi allows him to stay in the room if he zips his lips to his best ability.

Wrong. Two silent minutes pass in the small study room until Hitoshi bellows at his brother again, swinging an arm in the door’s direction.

“I’m serious, you can’t keep doing this when I’m trying to do my homework!”

“I’ll just watch and keep quiet, I promise,” Takao insists, giving his brother his best puppy eyes.

“I can’t focus if you’re standing there! Now get out!”

Takao’s frown deepens; with heavy feet and a heavy heart, he trudges toward the sliding door. He doesn’t like this recent change in his brother, all this emphasis on what Hitoshi refers to as “important stuff”. Just because he’s now seventeen. Acting all high and mighty, pretending to be so adult and so important, too adult and too important to play with his younger sibling.

“It’s a very important time for your brother,” their grandfather responded to Takao’s fraternal laments once. “In one year, he will officially inherit the crown of the Seiryuu-ou. There’s much for him to do to grow into the role of the king before his coronation.”

Important this, important that. What about having fun, wasn’t fun important at all? And fencing – surely instructing Takao with the basics of fencing has to be important? Hitoshi’s fencing skills are second to only their grandfather’s, and Takao cannot imagine – doesn’t want to imagine – anyone else teaching him the art of the bamboo sword. And now Hitoshi is “too busy” to teach him, all of a sudden.

“But I’m boooored,” Takao whines from the doors, balancing his weight on his heels back and forth.

“How about you go study something too for once? You really should be reading a lot more than you do, you know. I don’t want my little brother to end up being a dumb prince who doesn’t know anything about the way the world works.”

Takao’s nose wrinkles in disapproval. The word “study” smells like old paper and dust and boredom.

“It’s the Sowmoon holiday now! And what the hell would I study?” he barks.

“Don’t cuss. Anything – whatever interests you. How about the history of the city?”

“Bahhhh.”

“The history of fencing, then. I don’t know – go to the library, take a look at the books or whatever, just leave me alone. I don’t have time for this.” Hitoshi lifts the yellowish document in front of his face and disappears behind it. A wall has risen between the two brothers.

* * * * * *

In the country of spring and year-round greenery, it’s difficult to stay sullen under the tranquil blue of the Eastern sky. Moments later Takao is skipping down the road that leads to the town of Tsuno below, his child’s heart already ignited with new-found hope and aspiration, his feelings of frustration shed by the sturdy wooden gates of the Cherrywood Castle and he's moving on, literally.

At first, the idea was dull at best; reading sounds like just about the flattest thing he could be doing on this beautiful Sowmoon day, a warm breeze blowing through his indigo hair as he carefully hops from one cobblestone to the other… but, in the end, it’s the wish to please his brother that has won him over. Now a plan is taking shape in his mind, the idea swelling like a balloon by each step he takes down the road, and soon his head is racing with the ambition of studying as many topics as he can think of; he’s dreaming up scenarios of impressing his brother with all his newly acquired knowledge, his brain buzzing and his proud heart thumping with all the imaginary praise from Hitoshi… and, just maybe, he’ll then agree to do something fun with his cool and smart little brother again.

So caught up in his daydreams, Takao hardly pays attention to all the familiar townspeople greeting him as he passes by their wooden dwellings and shops and stalls, and he prances past several flocks of tourists lingering on the streets of Tsuno, too busy taking pictures of the cherry blossom trees in their rare blue Sowmoon bloom to notice the royal prince walking right past them. Even if they did see him, not many would pay attention to him; people from outside the city would never imagine a member of the royal Seiryuu-ou family strolling around in a simple hakama without making a scene; but in the royal capital of the Country of East, this was a mundane everyday sight, and Takao was a regular guest of the pastry stalls on the main street of Tsuno. The townspeople loved to pamper this bold and friendly little prince, who hadn’t yet been spoiled by the privileges of the royalty.

Takao reaches the tall glass doors of the main library, only to face the reality of the numbers painted on the glass panel. Five minutes to closing time. So caught up in the rollercoaster of his imagination as he left the Cherrywood Castle, checking the opening hours of the library didn’t even pass his mind.

“Oh, hello, Your Highness,” he’s greeted by one of the kimono-clad library workers who spots him. (The surprise is evident; Takao is not a usual guest in the library.) “How wonderful to see you here. Are you looking for something?”

“Well, yeah, for something to read… but it looks like you’re about to close.”

But coincidence is on Takao’s side today, for the clerk tells him that the library is staying open for one extra hour every day this week.

“The reading hall has been reserved by Professor, a local researcher – but I’m positive he won’t be disturbed by Your Highness’s presence.”

“Really? Okay.” Relieved and triumphant, Takao enters the old-fashioned yet admittedly curiosity-inducing depths of the city library.

He quickly comes to the conclusion that he has underestimated the number of books in the world. Expecting there to be one of each subject of his admittedly limited academic imagination, he is instead hit by an entire universe of paper and ink and covers and words. The map of the library layout alone is full of complex characters that Takao hasn’t yet come across in his schooling.

Dammit.

In the end, Takao finds himself pacing back and forth a narrow aisle of local history books, looking for one with a cover that sparks interest. Perhaps he cannot read all the text, but at least he can look at the pictures.

That’s when he notices another person sharing the space with him, at the far end of the hall, where the shelves have been moved to hug the walls to make room for a reading area in the middle and the ceiling seems to climb up impossibly high under the arch of a dome roof. This person is another kid, hardly older than Takao, and he’s not paying the prince any attention in return; the boy is glued to the screen of a laptop computer that sits on a table in front of him along with several books, one of which has been spread open. Every now and then, his fingers dance across the keyboard at a speed that Takao didn’t even know a computer keyboard could be used with; then the boy crouches over to take a quick glance at the open book before turning back to the laptop again.

A curious sight. For a moment, Takao is tempted by the allure of calling out to this strange boy, to ask him why he’s still there after closing hours. He decides against it and swallows his curiosity. If there’s one thing that his older brother has recently taught him, it is to mind his own business and not bother other people hard at work.

* * * * * *

The next day Takao returns to the library, a pile of books in his lap that he leafed through all night last night. Hundreds of pages of buildings so old they probably stayed up in the pictures with willpower alone – so old that Takao half-expected them to crumble and disappear by the turn of a page, leaving empty picture frame squares behind.

He came to the conclusion that Tsuno’s history was perhaps not the subject to start from.

Takao returns the books, decides to try and find something about fencing, a subject he’s already in some way familiar with. (Between the important-looking books, he secretly slips in a story about Southern pirates; this one he’s not going to tell Hitoshi about.)

In the hall with the dome ceiling, the kid with the laptop is by the exact same table again. Only the array of books next to him is a little different… maybe. Takao is nearly seized by his curiosity again, but something about the air around this boy holds the lingering scent of “do not disturb”, so he bites his tongue once more.

* * * * * *

How could even books about fencing slap him in the face with all this wall of text?! The following day Takao once again turns up at the library, to return his previous findings that had only briefly managed to capture his interest with images of old fencing gear that were not only ancient but, as he ultimately decided, very ugly and stupid-looking.

What about archery, the other national sport of the East? Takao finds it boring and repetitive compared to fencing, but since books about fencing turned out to be boring, did it mean that books about the boring sport were, in turn, more interesting? It makes perfect sense, in Takao’s eight-year-old mind.

However, as he makes his way to the library at the cusp of closing hours again, he no longer pays much heed to the books. Instead, his feet take him to the reading hall under the dome right away.

Sure enough, the kid with the big round glasses and a laptop in front of him is there in his usual spot, all alone. And again the boy’s fingers are hammering at the keyboard faster than Takao can form a coherent thought about computers, the strange machinery that originates from the technically advanced Country of West for all he knows.

It’s been three days now, and Takao can no longer hold back his burning curiosity. Eyes on the strange boy, he takes small sideway steps between the bookshelves, inching his way closer and closer, until he reaches the open reading area under the arched skylights above.

“Hey,” Takao says as he enters the boy’s proximity by the table.

The boy doesn’t do as much as raise his eyes from the computer screen.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he asks, still typing away. The tone of his high-pitched voice is just slightly aggravated but his choice of words oozes formality, a strange speech pattern for someone his age. It throws Takao off a little.

“Umm, I’ve seen you here every day this week and was wondering what you’re doing, that’s all. You know the library was already closed, right?”

After saying this, the thought then passes Takao’s mind that perhaps this kid never leaves the library. Perhaps he’s not even aware that he’s in a closed library. What if Takao is talking to a ghost, haunting this remote corner of the library all day and night? Or, maybe, he’s nothing but a product of Takao’s imagination?

The boy’s voice is now so blunt in response that these phantasmagoric thoughts immediately vanish from Takao’s mind.

“Yes, of course I know. The library personnel was very kind to allow me this one working hour without other people disturbing me. So really, I should be asking – what are you doing here?” Now the stranger’s hands finally leave the keyboard and he lifts his eyes to Takao.

A moment of confused silence. Then the boy’s face begins to resemble the colour of a strawberry.

“Oh!” he squeaks and jumps up to his feet, only to bow his head toward the floor. “Oh, Your, uh, Your Highness! I am terribly sorry for being so rude! Oh, goodness me, how could I…!”

“Wow, calm down,” Takao interrupts, startled himself by the suddenness of the boy’s reaction. “And raise your head – I don’t like people bowing at me, it makes me feel weird. More importantly, what you said just now – are you saying you booked this extra hour from the library?”

Hesitantly, the boy straightens his back, which doesn’t increase his height significantly; now that they’re standing next to each other, Takao notices how small the person he’s talking to is, his head barely on level with Takao’s shoulders.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he says. “I wasn’t aware I was sharing it with the royal family, though. How thoughtless of me.”

“No, well, I kinda just walked in on my own, to be fair. So… you’re a researcher?”

“You could say so, I am indeed carrying out some research here. My name is Saien Manabu, but everyone calls me Professor.”

“Oh, wow. What exactly are you researching?”

“Right now I am writing a paper on the goddess cult of the Country of North. I know, it’s not exactly a topic that interests most children, but I find it so terribly fascinating…”

The mention of children – a nod to the fact that this boy, too, is a child just like him – makes Takao immediately feel more at ease. This person, albeit strange and overly formal and clearly too smart for his age, really is just a child after all. This notion alone is enough to make the kind-hearted and fairly simple-minded Takao like this boy more.

“Sure, that sounds cool,” he says with a grin. “Hey – you said you’re Saien, right? Like that ramen shop on the main street?”

“Yes, it is owned by my parents.”

“Well, it’d be real interesting to hear more about your research and all, but I’m kinda hungry, to be honest – the Saien noodles sound awesome just about now. How about we go there and then you tell me more?”

“Hmm. Well, I wasn’t making as much progress today as I wanted, in any case.” The boy, visibly at least a little relieved to get a break from staring at the screen, slams his laptop shut and tucks it under his arm. Then he flashes a friendly smile at Takao. “Very well, Your Highness. But my mother may pass out if I bring a member of the royal family to their shop all of a sudden, so please prepare for that.”

“Bah, just call me Takao, I’m not so into that formal stuff.”

“Alright, and you can call me Professor.”

* * * * * *

Once back in the Cherrywood Castle, Takao told both his brother and grandfather how much he’d learned about the Northern goddess Hiromi of time and space already; and from that day onward, Hitoshi never needed to refer to his younger brother as the dumb prince again, as Takao, who became a frequent visitor of the Saien family ramen shop both inside and outside business hours, never ran out of curious stories to share about all the things he learned from his new friend.

And while the royal Seiryuu-ou family wasn’t to stay together for much longer from the moment of this story, Takao and Professor remained best friends for many years to come.

[missfluffywriter]

Purple Irises I Mafia Park Jimin x Reader

 Author’s note: Hello everyone! Back at it with chapter 3. I’m SO happy you guys like it Purple Irises, it’s my baby. And I’m like hecka proud of this chapter from the last two this has the best writing. I just hope the plot make sense with how layed everything out. If not please let me know 😭 And I know the whole purple irises thing doesn’t make sense yet but please be patient it’s coming. I also learned how to disable a motion sensor for this chapter so... Lol. Okay, so yeah that’s it for me, Happy readings! 

Word count: 8.8k

Genre: Mafia au, Doctor au (kind of)

Paring: Park Jimin x Reader 

(Series) Summary: You were supposed to be delivering flowers, so how did you end up in an operation room digging a bullet out of a mafia boss’ shoulder?

Purple Irises: Royalty and wisdom 

Warnings: Gun, violence, language

Previous chapter I Next chapter I Masterlist

Lush,emerald lawns stretched far out, tall pine trees dotting the outer edges of the vast gardens. Salvias, lavenders, dahlias, daffodils, and other vibrant flowers bloomed adjacent to the cobblestone path that extended throughout the property.

The meeting had been adjourned an hour ago, and the group disbursed, the men returning to their duties and responsibilities. And while they tended to their work, Jeongguk suggested you familiarize yourself with the mansion, so you did just that with Shelty by your side of course.

You begin your exploration with the estate gardens. It seemed like working as a florist had rubbed off on you. Automatically being drawn to the gardens, and pausing to admire each flower you passed. You mindlessly strolled through the stone path you lost yourself in your thoughts.  

Still unable to believe the events that had occurred but an hour ago. Truthfully, you didn’t know where those words had come from. Your observational skills had never been used in such a fashion. You had no idea it could be used like that. The entirety of the meeting had been a sort of a blur once you had started speaking, your mouth moved simultaneously with your mind. Your heart had been pounding throughout the meeting. But the thudding within your ribs wasn’t caused by nervousness neither was it caused by fear.

The emotion responsible for the rapid beating of your heart was once again, excitement. You saw adventure in the situation and the plan... Before you had even realized it, your brain had analyzed the case and immediately thought of a counter-strategy. Like how you would in a game.

But this wasn’t a game, this was real life, and lives were at stake. How could you have been excited about such a situation? Lives were on the line, not points as it would in a game. What was wrong with you? You chewed the inside of your lip, your thumb petting your index finger. Even as you fought yourself, even as you chided yourself for feeling such emotions, you couldn’t force a way the excitement bubbling in your chest. Eager to have your plan in motion, more than ready to participate in whatever game you may have been dragged into.

The plan would heavily rely on the intel Namjoon would gather. But the most crucial aspect will be the control over the flow of information and perception. You understood very well that information was the most dangerous weapon in existence, it could bring either great good or great harm. The result hinging upon the manner in which the information is utilized.

‘Huh? The path changed?’ Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized just how far you had wandered. You were no longer walking down a cobblestone path and instead on a gravel walkway. Taking in the tall Cotswold dry stone wall before you, recalling the grey and brown wall you had seen from the mansion. You deduced you were at the edge of the garden. ‘What’s that?’ You caught a glimpse of a dark spot along the wall. Straining your eyes, you strode towards the darkened area.

You took a sharp breath when you saw the property continued. The rustic wall made way to another area through a narrow, gravel path. Unable to suppress your curiosity, you advance on the path.

The passageway was dark, but there was no roof or archway above the walls. The tall trees beyond the wall shaded the area. A few more steps and you were at the mouth of the passage. And what you witnessed truly stole your breath.

A fountain sat in the center of the enclosed space, the fountain was low, made of obsidian, and perhaps Emperador marble. A dirty beige basin decorated the heart of the fountain, water gently overflowing into the main body of the fountain. The walls that you had seen before the walkway, created a room like an area. The gravel path circled the fountain, the rest of the space carpeted with the same emerald-green grass as the rest of the gardens. Two towering trees lie slightly before the fountain, then two more beyond the fountain. Vibrant flora grew around the walls. Sunlight barely peeking through the branches of the massive trees, the light that did pass fell perfectly onto the shimmering fountain. It was as though you had walked into a fairy tale.

But the mystical sight wasn’t what took your breath away. It was the one who was seated on the edge of the large fountain.

“Jimin?” You whisper, absorbing the sight before you.

Shades of yellow caressed his flawless skin, his silver locks glittering in the light. The contrasting shadows and light gave him an angelic glow. He sat sidelong on the fountain, his eyes reflecting a melancholy smile curved along his plump lips as he peered into the glimmering deep-blue water. Then as though you were in a fairy tale, the wind picked up. His silvery locks gently swaying with the zephyr. ‘An angel,’ Your mind instantly correlated the sight before you with the heavenly creature.

“(Y/n)?” He called, having been broken from his trance at the whisper of his name. His gaze snapped to your form, a hand resting on the right wall. Breathless wonder painted your face, lips parted, eyes wide as though you had just seen the most beautiful sight in the world. Jimin felt his mouth curve upwards as he looked at you, realizing that he was the cause of wonder when he followed your gaze. What an innocent expression you wore. It suited you, indeed it suited your features very well. What it didn’t suit was the world you were dragged into, and his smile falters.

A searing warmth crept up your cheeks when you realized he noticed you were staring at him. You ripped your gaze away, instead opting to glare at the daffodils that grew underneath the trees. You cleared your throat, “That’s a pretty fountain.”  

‘That's a pretty fountain!? That’s a pretty fountain?! Of all the things that’s what you decide to say?!’ You berate yourself, cursing your sudden awkwardness.

Jimin blinked at your words and his smile returned full force. “It is, isn't it?” His gaze reverts back to the blue-green water.

“This place is beautiful, do you come here often?” You asked, wafting towards the fountain. On the other hand, Shelty, who had stood by your side the entire time you were gawking admiring Jimin, bounded towards the male.  

“I come here to clear my head. Something about this place is calming to me,” He answers thoughtfully, happily obliging Shelty with ear scratches as he did so. You hum, understanding the feeling of having a safe haven. For you, it was your apartment. Your apartment was your safe space, decorated with fairy lights, more pillows than you'd care to count, and fuzzy blankets that you’d roll around in.

“How old is she?” He chortled as the jet-black wolf-dog laps at his cheeks. Just when had they gotten so close? Your smile widened watching the male giggle as Shelty assaulted him with slobbery kisses.

“Would you believe me if I said a little over a year old?” You answered with a question. Sitting beside him on the fountain.

Jimin blanched at your question, disbelief pooling in honey orbs, “No way! But she's so big.” You chuckle at his response, a common reaction when you reveal the age of your puppy. However, you paused when you realized Shelty had been completely ignoring you.

 “Oh, so you found yourself a new best friend, huh? I see how it is?” Feeling betrayed by your one and only companion, you puffed your cheeks into a pout, eyebrows knitting together as you crossed your arms in faux dismay. The wolf-dog pauses her ministrations, ears perking up when she hears the tone of your voice. Though she did not understand your words she could decipher what you were feeling through the tone of your voice. And right now, she heard sad.  

Whining she trots to you, nuzzling into your stomach, trying to discern as to why you were sad. You giggle at her reaction, massaging the silky fur around her neck. Oblivious to the amused eyes of a certain beautiful bastard silver-haired male.

“You know the mansion grounds are huge, I’ve been wandering for an hour and I still haven’t seen the whole garden. Forget the inside of the mansion,” You continue as the wolf-dog charges back to Jimin.

“Oh? You’ve been wandering the garden?” He turns his gaze to you. To which you nod in reply. “Have you seen the garden in the east wing?”

“There’s another garden?”

His lips twitch as he stands, “Would you like to see them?”

“Of course!” You bounce into a stand, startling Shelty as you did.

“Alright then,” He acknowledged, gesturing to you to follow.

What was he doing? Why was he taking you to that garden? His mother’s garden, a memento entrusted to him before she had passed away, and it was also the last proof of her existence in this world. That garden was one of his most cherished treasures, so why was he leading a girl he had met only hours ago to a place so close to his heart?

The words had slipped from his tongue before he could even register what he was saying, he had already asked you about the garden. But the strangest aspect of this whole ordeal was that he didn’t correct himself. His mouth kept moving, going so far as to invite you to see it. And his body seemed moved on its own accord, leading you towards his most precious place on earth.  

It was a short distance to the garden. Jimin had led you down the cobblestone path you had been on earlier. You passed many neatly trimmed hedges and a section of the mansion, most likely the east wing. ‘We must be close,’ You thought, taking in the architect of the gigantic building as you followed close after Jimin.

Then it came to view, vivid patches of purples, pinks, blues, and yellows. The garden itself wasn’t the largest, but that limited space resided multiple species of flowers. An iron fence surrounded the garden and an archway that doubled as a gate.

Jimin held open the gateway, allowing you to enter first. You thanked him as you walked into the magnificent nursery. As you observed the many flowers you noticed all the flowers were extremely well looked after. Someone had put a lot of care and dedication to nurturing these plants.

“This used to be my mother’s, before she passed away,” Jimin spoke. You eyed the fond expression that rested on his face. And you couldn’t help the small smile that made itself a home on your lips. You could see the love and care he held for his mother and the sadness from losing her.

“I’m so sorry,” You weren’t exactly sure what you were apologizing for, you had just felt the need to. As you bend down to admire the purple hyacinth.

“Before she passed away she entrusted this garden to me, saying she left a message for me. I searched every square inch of this place, but I never found anything. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to find it?” He bit tongue, the words tumbled past his lips before he could stop them.  

Seeing his saddened expression, a strange heaviness swelled in your chest. You couldn’t fathom the disappointment and heartache of not only his mother but also being unable to find her last message.

‘Pink carnations, morning glory, chamomile, purple hyacinth, white clovers, cornflowers, and more. Wait, pink carnation…’ Your eyes widened with realization. All these flowers had a commonality!

“Jimin! The flowers!” You exclaimed understanding the message his mother spoke of.

“Yes, they're beautiful,” He says not following your thoughts

“No Jimin! The flowers! They’re the message. The flowers are the message!” Jimin’s breath hitched catching onto what you were thinking.

“Morning glories symbolize affection, white clovers mean others are thinking of you, daffodils mean new beginnings, goldenrods symbolize encouragement, chamomile symbolizes the energy in adversity, cornflowers are given as good-luck charms because they are linked to wealth and good fortune, purple irises represent wisdom and royalty, lemon balms symbolize sympathy, the purple hyacinths are flowers that ask for forgiveness they mean “please forgive me”, and pink carnations… Well, legend has it that they first sprouted from the Virgin Mary's tears shed over Jesus' death… making them the symbol of a mother's undying love.” You recited the meanings of the flowers before you, deciphering the message Jimin’s mother had left him. Her message was pure and simple, she was encouraging him, wishing him the best of luck, she asked for forgiveness, and finally, she told Jimin she loved him.

You felt a tinge of guilt stir within you, this a personal message. This was between Jimin and his mother. And you were a stranger in the situation, did you truly even have the right to know?

Your feet fidgeted as you pondered the question. Although Jimin seemed to have a different take on the situation. As he pulled you into a hug, whispering a soft thank you. Smiling you returned the hug soothingly rubbing his back. The hug was warm, and somehow he seemed to envelop you. He was taller than you had expected. From this proximity you caught a whiff of his cologne, it was smelled sweet and clean, feminine yet somehow masculine. You wondered how such a soft person could be part of a mafia gang let alone the boss. You hummed comfortable in his embrace, perhaps a bit too comfortable as you nuzzled into his neck.

Jimin chuckled at your behavior, but he didn’t seem to mind it. Your eyes blew open as you registered that you had just nuzzled into the embrace of a mafia boss. Jumping out of the embrace you apologized. And he dismissed your apology with a smile.

“Your mother must’ve been an incredible woman. I mean who would’ve thought to leave a message through flowers,” You say, your eyes once again roaming the beautiful garden.

“She was, she really really was,” Jimin agreed.

What a cunning woman she must have been. Not a single soul would so much so as give this place a second glance unless they knew of it and were actively looking for it. A message, hidden in plain sight. You mentally made a note of the situation for it may come useful in the future.

“Walk with me?” Jimin asked a pleasant smile decorating his lips, his hands in the pocket of his sweatpants.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you gulped, palms suddenly sweaty. ‘My god he’s hot,’ You cheeks flushed such a deep red you’d put an apple to shame. ‘No, no nothing to blush over. That was just an observation. A simple observation,’ You thought as attempted to force away from your blush and calm your, now rapidly beating heart.

“(Y/n)?”

“Walk! Yes love to I,” Wait that wasn’t right, “ I-I mean, I’d love to,”

‘How adorable,’ Amusement flashed in Jimin’s honey-brown orbs as he wet his lips and nodded. Yet he could not deny that his very own heart had not been pumping just a tad faster, or the strange feeling that bubbled in his stomach.  

After that time had all but disappeared. A smile on your lips as you talked about everything and anything. You told him of how you had rescued Shelty from her abusive owner and a sort of anger seemed to form in his eyes. You questioned him about his favorite Disney movie and apparently, he had never seen one. And you took it upon yourself to change that. And the back and forth continued as Jimin led you through the garden. Occasionally pausing to ask you the meaning of flowers he did not recognize. The garden may have been small, yet somehow you had spent the remainder of daylight without so much so as a second thought.

“I wonder why my mother was apologizing...” Jimin’s voice trailed off. And you turned your attention to him. “She was the one that found me, took care of me, gave me a home. And I was the one that dragged us into this shit, I was the one that killed her son,”

Your eyes widened, ‘what?’

He saw the query in your eyes, however, he gave no explanation. And you didn’t need one. Hearing the grief and pain in his voice was an answer enough. His eyes cried sadness and hatred, and somehow you knew those emotions were directed towards himself.  

The sun was setting and hues and purples and blues painting the sky. Daylight fading from the garden, but you could see his smile clear as day. “I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know why I brought you here, or why I told you any of that.”  

Hearing his words, a modest smile made its way to your lips. Jimin may have not realized it himself but he had just trusted you with something so precious you didn’t know if you deserved it, he shared with you a piece of his past, and a piece of himself. What a strange turn of events. Earlier that very same day he had you at the receiving of a gun, and now here he was sharing something so special.

Tentatively grasping his hands in yours, you held them to your chest, “Thank you, for showing me this garden and for trusting me,”

Jimin’s breath hitched at the sight before him. Cheeks dusted a rosy shade of pink, a shy smile on your delicate lips. He hadn’t noticed earlier, but the moon had risen. The luscious moonlight giving your features a captivating glow. The warm gentleness your shimmering orbs held as you gazed into his. The tender manner in which you gripped his hands, the warmth and softness they possessed.

Did he trust you? Had he trusted really? Perhaps he did, but why? Was it because you were now working for him? Or could it have been something else? Your nature was similar to that of a placid river, peaceful and calm yet there was this part of you that was simply enthralling. Your mellow presence and soothing voice were so easy to get lost in.    

He could not control the acceleration of his heartbeat. Feeling it’s rapid thudding against his ribs. He could do nothing but watch as you thanked him for something he did not believe he had done, then just as tenderly released his hands.

“It’s late, we should head back,” Jimin eyes quickly flash towards the gate as he heads in the direction of the mansion. You quietly follow after him.

“I guess it did huh? I didn’t even feel the time go by,” Neither did he. “By the way, uh where do I go?”

“Ah yes, your room will be the one across from mine, it was not my decision. Apparently, I had a fever last night? And everyone was worried something like that could happen again. So they wanted you close by in case anything did happen,” He informed you. “Dinner will be brought to your room. And your curfew is 10:00 PM. Don’t leave your room unless you are explicitly asked by one of us or a medical emergency.”  

“Okay, I got it,” You nodded along. Although you did not understand as to why you had a curfew.

“Oh, I need to change your bandages before you go to bed,” You reminded him as you stepped into the main living room. Jimin gave a quick nod acknowledging your words.

You had never seen the mansion during the night. It was equally as beautiful as it was during the day, although at night, the mansion held this magical glow. You were trailing behind Jimin as the both of you walked to his room.

On route to his room, Jimin had stopped one of the maids and sent her to bring you the medical supplies you would need. And she was quick to fulfill the request or rather demand as she returned with a large box that had all the supplies necessary just as the both of you had entered the room.

This time around the changing of the bandages progressed and completed much smoother than it had been early that morning. As a matter of fact, you had even made a pleasant conversion with Jimin. And you much preferred the calm soft Jimin over the Jimin that held you at gunpoint.

“Ah right, Jimin you can’t get your sutures wet for the next twenty-four hours. I mean I’ll be cleaning your wound a bit. And even after that, only showers. Otherwise, you’ll be risking an infection,” You say as you tighten the bandages then clipped the bandage clip on.

“Understood doctor,” He said with a hint of mockery in his tone.

“You better have understood,” The words spilled before you could stop them, and you froze. Had you really just sassed a mafia boss?

“Oh?” Pure amusement laced his tone as his lips quirked into a smile that was more of a smirk.

“I meant goodnight,” You hurriedly put away the gauze and ointments, closing then placing the white box on the side table before dashing towards the door.

“(Y/n),” Jimin’s voice commanded, and you paused just as you had opened the door. “Your room is direct across mine. You see the doors right in front of you?” You nod.

“That’s your room. Again, dinner should be at your door in a few minutes, and yes, Shelty’s meal will also be sent,” He really had taken care of everything.

“Thank you,” You say gratefully, turning to leave. Before pausing once again.

“Jimin,” He hums at the call of his name, “Goodnight.”

He smiles, “Goodnight (Y/n),”

You padded towards your new room, Shelty on your heel. The room had double doors identical to Jimin’s. You swung one of the doors open, quietly entering the darkroom. You pawed at walls around the door until you found the light switch. Sighing a breath of relief as you turned them on.

“Wow,” The room was ginormous, spacious with a high ceiling, smaller than Jimin’s, but certainly bigger than your apartment. Your apartment…how long would it be until you had all your things were moved? Sighing you conclude thinking about something you couldn’t control would do you no good. Instead, you would ask Jimin regarding your things tomorrow.  

“Do you like it girl? It’s bigger than our old home isn’t it?” You smiled at the wolf-dog, who was busy exploring her new space. As your eyes analyzed the room further, you noticed the large bed. It appeared almost as if it were floating, it had a tan floating bed frame! The bed, compared to Jimin’s was smaller, however, unlike his, yours had a large shear russet canopy that touched the floor over your bed. Ruffles decorated the top frame of the canopy. The drapes closest to the headboard were loosely hanging, hiding away the front portion of the bed. The back drapes were tastefully gathered and tied to the legs of the canopy frame with a neat bow.

The bed had an awful lot of pillows, and you saw the familiar fuzzy white pillow. Those pillows… were your pillows. You rushed to the bed, and there they sat, all of your pillows and even your blankets were present. What was going on? Your eyes analyzed the room and landed on the office-like corner of the room. There was a glossy, east Indian rosemary wood desk completed with a chair made of the same wood and a large rug underneath them. Two large bookshelves aligned to the corners of the interesting walls.  

‘Those books,’ You hurry over to the area. Those books were yours too, and they had been arranged by alphabetical order according to book titles, even your textbooks were there. You made a mental note to thank whatever angle of a being had done this.

Running your fingertips along the desk you noticed your diploma had been neatly placed into a new nicer frame on the desk.

“Everything’s already here…” You trail off as you take in your aesthetically placed pillows. And a smile rose to your lips, you would make sure to thank Jimin and Jeongguk.

As you finished exploring your new room, a knock resounded in the quiet room. ‘It must be dinner,’ You quickly paddled to the door, and there stood one of the maids. She was the one who brought the bandages.

“You’re dinner miss uh…” Her voice was soft, meek even.

“(Y/n), and please just call me (Y/n),” You wave your hands at her formality.

“Once you are done please leave the trolley outside your door, goodnight miss (Y/n),” She bows ignoring what you had said before scampering off.

“Oh oh okay,” You stand at your door slightly confused.

You wheeled the trolley into your room, and Jimin was right. Shelty’s bowl was on the second deck of the trolley. You placed Shetly’s bowl on the ground, calling her over before digging into your own food.

And just as instructed you left the trolley outside your door.

‘What a day,’ You sighed, hopping out of the far too big to call a shower, shower. As you dry yourself with one of the fluffy towels, then blow-dry your hair with the dryer in the bathroom.

‘Does every room have its own blow dryer?’ You snuggled into Shelty’s neck as she nuzzled into you, surrounded your many blankets and pillows. You were dressed in your oversized t-shirt and a pair of short shorts that you had found in the excessively large walk-in closet. Apparently, all of your clothes had been organized and placed in the closet.

‘I wonder what’ll happen tomorrow,’ Your eyes fluttered closed, the comfort of Shelty’s presence and the luxurious bed lulling you to sleep.

~

You groaned as you smelled the familiar scent of rotting fish and old socks. You giggled awake as you were bombarded by slobbery kisses.

“Alright! Alright! I’m up,” Gently pushing the hundred-pound wolf-dog off your chest. “Well, good morning to you too,” You cooed at her as you sat up and stretched your arms above your head. “Let’s go get ready, yeah?”

You hopped off the bed as you navigate your way over the many pillows laying across the floor, to the bathroom. Quickly going about your routine as you needed to check on Jimin and replace his bandages.

You wondered if he was awake, Shelty had made it a habit to wake you as soon as she did. ‘What time do mafia bosses wake up?’ You thought as you changed into a white casual button-down shirt that was tucked into a pair of blue jeans, and a brown belt going around your waist. You had first thought of simply wearing a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt but you were technically their doctor, so to retain some semblance of professionalism. You opted for the semi-casual outfit.

 Deciding you would have plenty of time to make your bed after changing Jimin’s bandages, you exited your room. Breezing across the hallway, knocking on Jimin’s door. Entering after hearing a ‘come in’.

“Good morning,” You greet with a smile. And Jimin returns your greeting with a pleasant good morning. Bringing the supply box with you as you sat beside him. “How’re you feeling today?”  

“Better than yesterday, the pain meds seem to be doing their job” His lips curve upwards as he turns to give you better access to his shoulder.

“That’s good, but try not to overwork yourself. And make sure to take plenty of breaks, you lost a lot of blood the other day,” You hum in concern as you gently rub the ointment onto the wound.

“That may be a little hard to do,” Jimin chuckles as you finished wrapping his bandages. His job didn’t exactly allow for a break.

“You haven’t explored the mansion yet have you?”He questioned slipping on his sweatshirt. You replied with a thoughtful ‘no’ as you yourself had forgotten you had about your unfinished exploration. “Then have one of the maids give you a tour today,”

A much sounder idea than wandering around the seemingly endless mansion and risk getting lost. Maybe you could ask the girl that had dropped off your meal yesterday. But it looked like your tour would have to wait as you heard loud calls of Jimin’s name.

“Jimin hyung! They got him, they got Taehyung,” Jeongguk burst into the room, an enraged expression. The other four soon poured after him.  

The change was instantaneous, his face darkened and a spine chilling glare present on his face. Gone was the soft Jimin you were speaking to, and there stood the boss of a mafia gang.

“Who?” Was all he said as he threw his blankets and charged into his closet with Jeongguk on his heel.

“It was the Yeong’s again,” Jeongguk growled. “They sent us this.”

You feel the anger flowing into the room from within the closet. Jimin wasn’t angry, he was furious. “Namjoon, get his location” Jimin commands as he steps out of the closet, clad in a deep navy blue suit. He blazed out of the room. Was he going out in a business suit?

“We’re working on it, I’ve already begun the tracing. A few more minutes and we’ll have his location” Namjoon matched Jimin's breakneck pace as he spoke. The other men follow after them with you and Shelty.

“Jin get everyone together, Yoongi, the guns get me the newest one. We head out as soon as everyone is armed. Now hurry,” Jimin roared. Why was everyone leaving? If everyone was leaving then who would guard the mansion? Was he truly leaving his main base of operation unguarded? And by the looks of it, Yoongi had similar concerns.

“Jimin, I do一” The platinum blonde cuts Yoongi off.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” Jimin thunders as he turns to face everyone. Yoongi's eyes avoided Jimin’s as he shook his head no. Was no one going to speak up? You heavily exhaled as you decided to take matters into your own hands. And pray you survived

“Jimin, calm down!” You cut off his steps. And his eyes narrow glaring daggers into you, you gulped, as you felt your life shorten by ten years. “Just think about it. Where would you go? Namjoon doesn’t have his location, so unless you do. I suggest you slow down,” You spoke as steadily as you could under the circumstances.

“Slow down? Slow down?! One of my best men, one of my friends was kidnapped and you want me to slow down?” His enraged glare directed towards you.

“Yes I do, think about what you’re doing. I understand that you want to get Taehyung back as soon as possible, everyone here does. But you can’t go around making rash decisions. Besides for one you’re injured, and second, you haven’t had breakfast yet.” You explain calmly, surprised your voice came out as steady as you did.

Your words seemed to reach him as he inhaled sharply and held his breath before closing his eyes and sighing. Though anger was still prevalent on his face, his gaze was controlled. He understood the true meaning behind your words. If his command had gone through then he would be leaving the mansion essentially defenseless. And you were right, where would he have gone? They didn’t have Taehyung's location. Even if they had headed out, they’d only be running around in circles. You gulped as his eyes met yours.

“Jin, get a unit of twenty ready to move at a moment's notice, Yoongi I still want that gun, Namjoon hurry up on that location,” He instructs, frustration present in his voice. “And Eui, can you get breakfast in the living room?” He speaks to the maid cowering behind the hallway wall.

At his words and calms tone, you felt oxygen flood into your lungs. ‘I thought I was a goner,’ You thought as you placed your hand on your chest.

“What are you waiting for a written invasion?” Jimin raised an eyebrow at the men, who were staring at you as though you had grown a second head. Jin and Yoongi broke from their thoughts at Jimin’s voice before scampering off to complete their assigned jobs.

 Jimin turned on his foot striding to one of the sofas and sitting.

Eui, as you learned her name, was quick to return with breakfast. She was joined with another maid, of whom you had yet to learn the name of. Both speedily place the plates on the coffee table and surprisingly Shelty’s bowl next to you before bowing and scurrying off.

By then Jin and Yoongi had returned. Jin reported the twenty men Jimin had asked for were already in cars ready, waiting for their command. While Yoongi returned with a silver briefcase in hand. You assumed it was the gun Jimin had requested demanded. Breakfast had never been more awkward, the nervous energy hung in the air, and on top of that, no one spoke. Everyone ate in silence, and for some apparent Jimin seemed fairly content as things were.

“We got his location!” Namjoon jumped, eyes snapping to Jimin as if asking for further instruction.

“Jin!” Jimin stands.

“They’re heading out now,” he responds, all five men standing as Jimin stood.

“Hoseok, Jin, hang back. Guk follow in your car, Namjoon with me,” Jimin instructs meeting eyes with each man as he did. “(Y/n), you too,”

“Me? Why me?” You blinked, confusion riddled your expression. What could you possibly do in such a situation?

“Because you’re our doctor, Taehyung is injured. And Shelty’s coming too,” He explained briefly.

“Hey, wait! I need to get a first-aid kit!”

The drive was a lengthy one. The GPS tracker leading you deep into the mountains. They had taken Taehyung much farther than you had expected. But unlike the tense nature of breakfast, Shelty was close enough to somewhat soothe the anxiety of the men. She sat on the floor of the small limousine, nuzzling into Jimin’s and Namjoon’s hands. Though truly, to take one of the highest-ranking men of an enemy gang, what gal must they truly have? This event also serves to further solidify your idea that there is something crucial you were missing. With how quickly Namjoon was able to find Taehyung’s location you could not imagine they planned to hide his location. Although, that could also be attributed to the excellent tracking skills of Namjoon, yet still. They didn’t make any demand, they did not ask for anything. You had gotten a look at the letter that had been sent. All the letter said was to “Come get your dog” And a picture of a beaten and bruised Taehyung. That was also when something peculiar caught your eyes. You couldn’t see any severe injury on Taehyung, aside from the noticeable bruises around his face and neck. Though, the thing that stuck out to you the most, was the fact that his clothes looked nearly intact, dust and grim here and there, almost like he had been dragged. But not as though he had been truly beaten… something felt wrong. Only this time you decided it would best to keep your words to yourself, the guys were on edge as it was. You would keep an eye on places they didn’t and if you happen to see anything you would warn them immediately.

“We’re here,” Namjoon called as the car came to a stop. Jimin’s gaze turned ice-cold as he exited the car, you exit after them.

The area was surrounded by a thick forest of tall trees, the grounds elevated the farther from the house it went, almost a valley-like area. Before you stood a tall oak wood shed-like building, only this shed was much larger than a regular garden shed.

“I see Taehyung hyung!” Jeongguk pointed toward the door or at least where the door should have been. Thanks to the missing door, from where you stood, you could perfectly see him… perfectly see him? This felt awfully similar to…

Once you had a closer look, you saw it, Taehuyng was awake. His eyes were wide open, and what they held was far from elation. ‘I knew it’ You thought, this was a trap. But if Taehyung was awake, then why doesn’t he come out? Why doesn’t he say anything? He wasn’t restrained at all, he was simply sitting there. His posture was stiff, even his breathing seemed tense, almost as if… he was trying to limit his movements. Something was there making sure he didn’t move, but what?

“I’m going in there,” The chocolate-brown haired male charged towards the open door, and until you quickly grasped his hand stopping him from rushing into what felt like a trap. And you watched Taehyung's eyes blow up in fear then blink in relief? He was trying to keep them out of the room.  

“What are you doing!?” He exclaimed, not very happy with your actions. Jimin recognized this behavior, you had picked up on something.

“Guk, calm down, we still need to secure the parameter,” Jimin spoke in a notably calm voice. He nodded as a gesture to Namjoon to send out the men to secure the area. Who then assigned each man present, a job. Soon after, half of the men had left the group.

As they did, you and Jeongguk cautiously approached the shed. Taehyng’s eyes were focused on the spot directly above the open door. He was trying to communicate something. His eyes gaze flickers to you before returning to the small window above you. There was something there, did that window have something to do with his movements being limited. Movement? ‘Motion sensors!’ Your eyes widened as you connected the dots.

Taehyung’s eyes returned to you and you eyed the spot he had indicated, nodding as a sign you understood what he was gesturing to. But you mouth the words ‘ motion sensor’ as a reassurance you had read the situation correctly. And his eyes lit up at your lips and you were certain. Acting on a hunch your mouth ‘bomb’ and his eyes darkened with the slightest nod, so slight that anyone else would have missed it. Just as you stepped back Taehyng’s eyes widened, almost as if he were saying he wasn’t done. And his gaze turned to his left, his eyes scrunched as he glared to the area left to him. But why was he looking there? You couldn’t see any motion sensors in that direction. Could it be...You paused, nibbling on your lower lip before mouthing a sentence you prayed he understood. ‘Is someone watching?’ You tried to mouth the words the best you could. And his face immediately contorted into a scowl. ‘Someone’s watching that’s why he couldn’t talk,’

You staggered backward, dragging a confused Jeongguk with you, Shelty obediently following you. You needed to tell Jimin, but how? If someone watching was the reason Taehyung was left unable to speak, that would mean they were either close enough to hear or had a device planted somewhere nearby. That person would also most likely have a detonator. Taehyung had looked to the left, so that meant… they were close by. If Taehyung knew where they were then they had to be close. So they were in eyeshot too. Not good. How would you tell Jimin? Your eyes flew around taking in your surroundings especially taking note of the left. There was one way… You just prayed the people around him or Jimin himself didn’t shoot you.

You sighed as you walked to Jimin, a complaining Jeongguk in tow. The moment you were close to him you leapt into his arms. Of course, he caught you, a little startled but he caught you. And you heard the sound of multiple guns being clicked. ‘Oh god I hope I don’t die,’ You thought, nuzzling your head into Jimin’s neck, on his right side as he froze before relaxing.

Jeongguk and Namjoon both were puzzled by your action, if not a little flushed. “(Y/n), what are you doing?” Jimin asked stiffly.

“There's a motion sensor in that room, if they go off so does a bomb, don’t make it so obvious,” You continue to snuggle into his neck. Jimin stiffened before wrapping his arms around you and gesturing his men to lower their guns, much to Namjoon’s and Jeongguk’s confusion.

“Anything else?” He whispered into your ear, and you couldn’t help the shiver that ran down your spine.

“To the left, in those hills, someone’s watching. They probably have a detonator, just in case we found out about the sensors,” You mumble your face pressed to his chest. His arms tighten around you, a sign he understands and asking you if you had a plan. To which you gave a muffled laugh, Jimin smirked at your response. Of course, you had a plan. “I’ll deal with our little watcher. You just worry Taehyung,”

“As for the motion sensors, you’ll have to disable it. You see that window, you need to remove, and no you can’t break it. The motion sensors will pick up the moving glass. You’re going to have to remove it or open the window. Can you do that?” You ask him, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes. But he’s quick to pull you back. Giving you a quick ‘yeah yeah’. You giggled continuing, “Well, most models have a manual disable feature underneath the device. But you still have the choice of either cutting off its power source or you’ll need to have it carefully, staying in its blind spot. Which is right underneath it, disabled. There needs to be someone under the sensor that directs the person disabling the thing on which side the switch moves. That is if the switch is in the middle. If the switch is on either side just slide it to the other. But to be cautious, just have someone watching. But you move only once you get my signal. I’ll text you the minute I have their attention. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold it so get him outta there quickly.”

“Alright, but how are you gonna leave without arousing any suspicion?” he asks, leaning his head on yours.

“Oh, that’s the fun part,” You grin.

“Oh?”

You take a deep breath before pushing Jimin from the embrace, hollering as loud as your throat would allow. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M IN THE WAY?!”

Jimin finally understanding what you meant when you said fun, plays along. “Like I said, you’re in the way! All you do is whine and bitch. Why don’t you understand… I don’t even know why I brought you here.” He sighs dramatically, running his hand through his hair.

“THEN WHY DID YOU HUG ME JUST TO INSULT ME AFTERWARDS!”

“YOU NEED TO GO HOME, NOW!” Jimin roars out, you flinch at his volume. He deeply sighs again, “Guk, take her home.”

“Ugh! Whatever! Let’s go Shelty!” You storm towards Jeongguk’s car.  

Though he did not know exactly what was going on, Namjoon understood that the two of you had a plan. He nudged a stunned Jeongguk, who sputtered as he reluctantly followed after you.

“So what the fuck happened back there?” Jeongguk questioned as he started the car.

“We don’t need to go far, just far enough we won’t be seen but close enough to run back,” You said a sly smile tugging at your lips.

“I smell a plan,” He chuckles while driving off.

“Oh, and can I borrow your gun?”

“Wat?”

~

“Who the fuck was that? And since when did Park have a girlfriend, now?” A gruff voice scoffs. “What the hell are they down there? They’ve been circling the place for twenty minutes. What the hell are they pussyfooting around for?” he sighs. ‘Did they figure it out? Nah they couldn’t have,’ He thought petting the detonator in his jacket pocket.

He was ripped from his thoughts by sounds of footsteps behind him. Immediately he stood from his crouching position and held up his gun. His mouth twitched upwards “Well, well, weren’t you supposed to be on your way home?”

“Yeah, sorry, there was a change of plans,” A smirk tugging on a corner of your lips. You leaned your weight on your right foot, shrugging. Jeongguk, who was hidden behind one of the trees, messaged Jimin, giving him the signal to move.

“So what do you want?” You ask, placing your hand on your hip.

“What makes you think I want something?” He cocked his eyebrow.

“Guessing from the fact that you haven’t set off the bomb the minute you saw me. And our intel-gathering is pretty good too. Actually, nevermind, here you go” You throw him a touch screen phone.

“And just what the fuck in on this thing?”

“The thing you’ve been looking for, Hyun Joo,” You tilt your head, a smirk ever prevalent on your lips. “Anything and everything on Sung Min.”

Shock glowed in his eye, how had you known. His gaze asking a silent question. You laughed at his bewilderment. “Remember what I said about our intel-gathering?” You answer with a question of your own.

Hyun Joo bursts into a breathless fit of laughter, his right hand covering his face. “And how do I know this isn’t just some random phone?”

“Easy, look through it, it’s not password protected,” You nod to the phone and he does as you instruct. Moments pass as he sifts through the information on the phone. He hangs his head, impressed with the contents on the phone. It did truly have anything and everything on it, down Sung’s favorite color. The events recorded on this phone matched with his experience with Sung.

“Don’t worry, all of it is actual information. I’m not brave enough to jeopardize my friend's safety,” You reassure the validation of the information with a frustrated sigh. His expression transformed one of intrigue.

“Now, the detonator please?” You request holding out your palm. Hyun Joo reaches into his pocket. Jeongguk stiffens at his actions, unsure whether Hyun would stick to the deal. But his worry seemed misplaced as Hyun carefully pulled his hand from his pocket, throwing you a small gray rectangular box with a single button. “This better be it,” You warned the smirk that was on your lips now gone.

“It is, I got what I was after. I got no reason to continue this,” He shrugs, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. “But tell me something, how did you know I was here? Even if that guy in there had somehow managed to tell you where I was without talking. This area’s huge; it would have taken at least thirty minutes for you to find me. But you were gone for less than fifteen minutes.” He asks, genuinely curious.  

“Oh, that? Yeah well, you see I have a tracker of my own,” You say as Shelty steps beside, standing tall. Hyun jumps, holding up his gun out of instinct, curing at the sight of the wolf-dog. And you giggle at his expected reaction, “Meet Shelty one of the best trackers in the world, but she didn’t do all the work. As a matter of fact, you did half of it,” He looks at you in question.

“The gunpowder, she followed the scent of the gunpowder in your gun,” You explain to the confused man.

“One last question, why did you want the detonator? it looks like your little buddies had everything under control there,” He gestures behind him to the Taehyung that was now standing alongside Jimin and Namjoon.

“Well, you can never be too safe, besides I had to distract you. If we hadn’t made this deal or if your attention wasn't on something else. You would have activated the bomb,” Hyun heaves a dry chuckle at your truthful explanation.

“Ya really are something you know that?”  

“I’ve been told that,” You chuckled softly, before asking the question that had been bothering you, “But, all that aside. Aren’t you worried about the Yeong’s coming after you for making a deal with the enemy?”

“This kinda stuff happens an awful lot in this world. Besides, soon enough, I don’t think anyone will have to worry about the Yeongs” He chuckles, sauntering past you, disappearing into the woods. What? Didn’t have to worry about the Yeongs? What did he mean by that? This wasn’t the time for that, you needed to regroup with the others, you shook your head back into focus.

“Should we head down there from here, or…?” Jeongguk steps forward from behind the large tree.

“Let’s head down from here, then you can ride with us to your car,” Giving him a soft smile, you start your trek down the hill.

Jimin and the others weren’t far from your position, so the downhill climb was completed rather quickly. Though you were slightly out of breath as you emerged from the forest. Unlike Jeongguk who not only seemed right as rain but also sped towards his hyungs. ‘Kids these days have so much energy’  

“I didn’t realize your plan involved a nature hike,” Jimin says with the most amused eyes. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I didn’t realize my plan involved a nature hike either,” You return, not particularly happy about the comment, and he chuckles at your out of shape self. Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jeongguk laughing along.

“What are you laughing at, brat? I just saved your life. Actually, I saved all our lives,” You accusingly point your index finger to the still chuckling Taehyung.  

“Wait, but how did you find Hyun?” Taehyung inquires as he looks to you with a puzzled expression. Jimin’s eyes seemed to ask the same question.

“It was Shelty! It was obvious that someone in this trade would carry a gun, so (Y/n) had Shelty track the scent of gunpowder. She sniffed out Hyun Joo in minutes. You shoulda seen her! It was so cool!” Jeongguk praises the wolf-dog as he excitedly pets her.

“I must admit (Y/n), that was quite the plan. And I wanted to thank you for saving Taehyung,” Namjoon expresses his gratitude, as he pats your shoulder.  

You shook your head, honored by his gratitude but it wasn’t necessary. “You guys are like my colleagues now, so I was happy to. And I uh… I don’t about you, but I kinda see you guys as my friends,” You blinked at your own words. What a thing to say, friends with six high ranking mafiosos and the boss of the gang himself. You never imagined you’d ever be uttering those words.

“Doesn’t that make two?” Jeongguk asks, still playing with Shelty. All the men including you looked at him in question.

“What do you mean?” You head tilting unconsciously.

“First it was Jimin hyung and now Taehyung hyung, so that makes two of the seven original members of Bangtan you’ve saved,” He giggles as the wolf-dog half his size jumps on him, placing her paws on his shoulder.

“Huh? I guess it does, doesn’t it?” You thoughtfully look at the men, who were thinking the same as everyone bursts out laughing.

However, Jimin’s chuckle silences first as his expression turns grim. To do such a thing to one of his closest friends, there would be hell to pay. They would pay for what they had done, retaliation would be merciless.

You see his eyes darken with rage and contempt. Padding over to where he stood, you tenderly took his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His eyes meet yours before flickering to Namjoon. “Do you have it?” He questioned.

“We have what we need and we're ready to begin phase one,” Namjoon reports to Jimin, who nods in approval.

“We begin phase one as soon as we get back to the mansion,” He commands. Before you veto the command

“Well, that’s all well and good and all, but how about we actually get home, I treat Taehyung’s wounds, and we all have lunch before doing anything else?” You suggest, feeling the tingles of hunger in your tummy.

“Correction, we begin phase one as soon as (Y/n) has been fed,” Jimin sasses.

“That’s not what I一, I said we all should have lunch together. And you missed the part about treating Taehyung,” You hooted, not very pleased with the mockery.

“Alright, let’s go feed the beast” Jeongguk announced, making his way to the short limousine you arrived in. Shelty on his heel.

“Jeongguk!”

~

“Ji Young, I have a proposal for you,” You cross your right leg over your left as you sit before the bruised and bleeding prisoner. Leaning towards the restrained man, a foxy smile on your lips.

“Work for us,”  

[cno-inbminor]

adsentio - stagnation

a/n: we’re back with prince!akaashi, royalty!au, extra part. i promise i was writing the wedding scene, but then it started storming pretty heavily...and my brain said, “no, Kay. it’s rainy hours. write angst. you know you want to.” and...this happened.

NOTE: for this specific scenario, it’s not 100% necessary to read ‘adsentio’, the main story. however, there are details that reference it and subsequent parts. the basic idea is: you and prince akaashi had been set up to marry since you were children, and while the both of you were against it for a while, feelings changed for the better.

summary: after a few years of being married, you find yourself firmly concluding that indeed, akaashi no longer loves you.  

genre: angst!! with happy ending though. wc: ~2.9k

main story: adsentio (pt. 1) | bonus letters (pt. 1.5) | the masque (pt. 2)

Whenever torrents of rain cascade over the kingdom, down the vine-ridden castle walls and pattering upon the lake, many will pause in their tasks and gaze out the nearest windowpane. Thunder may rumble and lightning may strike, yet everyone registers the same twist in their stomachs. An unease lies beneath their skin; a chill that wickedly summons horripilation. In an effort to battle the shadows, fires begin to roar, one by one through the castle. Aches and pains arise in bodies as the masses wait with bated breath for the rainbow to appear as it always does.

Smoke floats through the chimneys and taints the air, evident by the wisps of gray and onyx. Yet they are unnoticed and in stealth on this dreary night where everyone must succumb to the understanding that there will be no rainbow. The controller of the tides will peak above the midnight clouds and attempt to shine, but never strong enough to guide the nightly travelers.

Even with the tamed inferno in the chambers, a puff of visible air leaves your lips. Your hands clasp tightly together, your fingers intertwining with each other in your lap as you sit in front of your vanity. Raindrops beat against the glass of the balcony doors, glistening in their trail towards the ground. Yet as soon as they fall onto stone, the drop shatters and colors the surface. It paints and paints until the blemishes appear and the imperfections glare towards the skies.

Jewels sit heavy on your figure, your crown resting on a cushion atop your vanity. But in this moment, nothing weighs more than the wedding ring on your left hand. It’s crushing, suffocating; it burns a print and imprisons your appendage, reminding you of unspoken promises ghosted against your ear. The gems hold decades of memories, being passed down from queen to future queen, and you wonder if any of them proceeded with what you plan on doing.

Akaashi had entered the room as smooth as a serpent, silent like a zephyr. Your only warning of his presence is the raised hairs on the back of your neck, your body tensing just as his hands placed themselves on your shoulders from behind. Another breath is drawn from your lungs as he peers into the mirror at you, the faintest expression of happiness drawn from his lips. But it’s lifeless. It’s the one he reserves for meetings and pleasantries, for when he disagrees with his father but has no choice to comply. His eyes are darkened with death and dissatisfaction, and has been for almost two weeks now.

His brows only marginally furrow with concern at your lack of reaction, how you seem to be looking past him. Your own expression comes off as solemn yet nervous, as if you’ve committed a grave sin.

“Is anything wrong, my dear?” He asks gently, watching carefully.

Your lips purse as you turn your head towards the hand on your right shoulder. They no longer provide the warmth and comfort that they did so many years ago, but only serve to freeze your soul and weave together the insecurities that you had painstakingly unraveled. Akaashi continues to gaze at you in silence as you stand from your seat, wordlessly beckoning for him to take your place. With guarded hesitation, he does as you say. Instead of standing behind him as he did you, you instead take the space on his right, facing his side profile. Feeling unnerved, he turns to face you rather than his own reflection.

In times of vulnerability, you have always struggled to find your footing, to feel that you are powerful. You believe there is a strength in possessing self-awareness and having the ability to convey those thoughts to someone who cares and knows. Just because you feel small in the moment does not mean you must be small. You can tower over the other person as you do now, forcing your prince to lift his chin to speak to you.

“You are unhappy,” you whisper ruefully.

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” he fibs, his eyes wavering as he directs his gaze away from yours. In that brief moment of eye contact, you had seen the show end, but the curtains lifted, the gears turning and unveiling his chaotic despair.

“You cannot lie to me, milord. And only you are incapable of doing so with me.”

He lets out an arduous sigh and slouches his back, a pose of defeat and exhaustion. A dagger twists his heart at the title, but his reticence allows you to continue.

“I can only imagine that there have been many women in my position before, where they must continue to rule with locked lips and the key thrown. There must have been many who were as hopeful as me, and yet as time aged us, we had to turn the other way and simply learn to accustom ourselves to the new surroundings. With how long we have known each other, I know almost everything about you. To most, you may only have a few sitting postures. But to me, you have tens. Each little movement indicates something different, something you happen to be thinking or feeling at that moment. It’s ingrained into my brain by sheer force and repetition, and I’m beginning to wish I was more oblivious. Perhaps, then, I would at least have been a happy fool, content with my misguided beliefs.”

“What are you trying to say?” He enquires as he dares to face you again. With regret, loss, and grief, he watches as your eyes begin to shine with tears and the most bittersweet smile on your face begin to form.

“You no longer love me.

“And I have no objection to that,” you continue, raising a hand to stop any of his interjections. “I should have known that you would eventually tire and wish for what I had voiced all those years ago: some freedom, some choice. As much as you had convinced yourself that marrying me was unequivocally your free will, you no longer believe it. All of your interactions with me scream so, and I have no intentions to attempt to convince you otherwise. Doing so would be hypocritical of me. So for now,” you pause, looking down at your hands while catching your breath.

Akaashi can hear the tremble of your lungs over the crack of thunder and the beating of the heavens. But everything deafens when your right hand hovers over your left ring finger. They hesitate and shake, reaching then reclining, before grasping the ornate band and slowly, lamentably removing it. You then extend a hand to gently grasp one of his, placing the piece of jewelry in his open palm, then curling his fingers closed around it.

“For now, I shall return this to you. You may do as you wish, as I will not stop you. Perhaps…we were not lucky enough for love.”

You sleep with your back to him that night, unwilling to face him when only mere inches exist between you two. You miss how Akaashi turns to face your back, how his arm tentatively reaches to wrap around your waist before pulling back, and can only slip into his dreams when counting the strands of your hair.

-

“The Prince urgently requests that you meet him in the library, Your Highness.”

“Now?”

“Preferably, yes.”

“Very well, I shall be there shortly,” you sigh, your turning away signaling the messenger’s dismissal. Your head bends down to take one last look at the embroidery in your lap, your fingers finishing some last few stitches for an appropriate stopping point. Fingers cautiously smooth the wrinkles of your day dress, and you take one last deep breath.

The journey to the library is painstakingly laborious, as though each step you made had been done with shackles around your ankles. There is a weight to the sound of your heels clicking against the ground. Maids and butlers shuffle past you with heads bowed, though you seem to deep in a trance to observe.

Much of the energy and power that you felt you had exuded those nights ago had soon dissipated from your body. Your body resembles an empty shell, devoid of a plan to stand on your feet and continue with your normal activities. Your left ring finger screams into the numbing void, the missing weight almost bearing its own scarlet letter. You stayed in your room as much as possible, requesting meals to be delivered to the chambers. Akaashi nearly always needed to be away, taking care of kingdom affairs in preparation for his inevitable ascension to the throne. The only times you were ever near him were in the mornings and nights. You understood he was allowing some space for you, yet to request your presence…

Soon, you stand in the doorway of the royal library, the wooden entrance left ajar. The space acts as a safe haven for anyone in the castle; you gently press it open with the pad of your fingers. Hundreds of books on shelves line the walls with a few tables and lounging couches, yet it is eerily empty. Typically, there would be another person climbing one of the ladders to reach a high book, but even those are gathering dust for now.

Akaashi is in the farthest corner by the window, small stacks of bound journals and novels on almost every available space of the surface. He stands tall by the glass, looking out towards the gardens with his hands clasped behind his back. You take this moment of his oblivion to appreciate the back of the man before you, choking back and battling the agonizing twist of your heart. It is a moment you feel that you no longer deserve, but whatever it may be, the matter seems far less urgent than what the butler had told you.

You near him and clear your throat, the noise causing him to spin on his heels. He looks somewhat taken aback, but quickly composes himself as you curtsy. “I am here, Your Highness. I was told you had urgent matters to discuss.”

Akaashi sighs somewhat before sitting in the chair, beckoning you to come closer to the desk. His complexion seems pale and almost gaunt, and in turn, you frown. Was he not sleeping? Or eating? Has his father been putting too much pressure on his shoulders?

“I must confess,” he begins softly and refuses to meet your eyes. “The matter isn’t as urgent as I made it out to be. But I wanted to see you as soon as possible as it is still important and does concern you.”

“Did I…do something wrong?”

“Of course not,” he immediately denies, taking a hasty glance towards you before turning back to the books on the desk. “If anything…I am the one who has wronged you, and I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me,” he continues, his voice trailing towards the end of his confession. The desperation for forgiveness and repentance drown his words until they are all you can feel, yet you were so unsure of why he was seeking those. Did he pity you? Your emotions?

“I believe there is no reason to forgive you, as there is nothing you should feel sorry for,” you say stiffly, hands subtly wringing together.

“I must concur,” he kindly retorts. “Here, please have a look at this.”

He hands you a journal from the top of a stack, encouraging for you to take it. The leather feels aged and worn, but it is one you recognize from many, many years ago.

‘You could consider it a memoir.’

“Open it, please. And read what’s inside it.”

With a curious look, you unwind the ties and peel back the cover. The first page holds nothing, but when you turn the yellowing parchment, familiar handwriting greets you. A date sits in the top right corner, marking it a little less than a year before your eighteenth birthday.

‘I must say, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a letter from the princess. In my mind, she would have better things to attend to than to reply to me. After all, we both have our own duties, and in addition to hers, she must be attending some of her father’s meetings. I cannot deny the fact that my heart began to race swiftly when I saw her signature at the bottom of the letter. Even in her writing, I could hear her voice in my head, reading it the same way as if she were speaking to me. How I long for the summer months to quickly come.’

The beginning entry ends there, but as you thumb through the other pages rapidly, they are filled with his writing in neat, onyx ink. You begin to recall the days when you both were here in this very room, him scribbling away as you read your subject of interest. Your eye the other similar-looking journals and he confirms your unspoken questions.

“They’re all about you,” he smiles, though it seems sad and apologetic. “As you can see, I filled quite a few journals over the many years, but…unfortunately, as I grew busier, I was unable to write as much. When you said those words to me that night,” – a grimace on his complexion – “I couldn’t believe myself. Did I truly not love you anymore? At first, I struggled to find an answer…until a few days ago. I have spent much of my time reading through these pages, seeing what I have written.”

“You read…all of these? There must be almost twenty journals here,” you say in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

“I couldn’t quite put them down, I must admit. Some of my best work, perhaps.”

He stands from his seat and walks around the desk until he’s in front of you. Those pools of cobalt blue still find it difficult to meet your own eyes – they swim with contemplation and hesitation, but a sheet of determination soon clouds them. After you recognize that, he grasps your left hand with both of his and kneels on one knee, his forehead bowed down onto your knuckles either out of embarrassment or absolute respect.

“Keiji, what are you—”

“I was wrong. I had been so wrapped up in my own affairs that I failed to look after you as I had promised at the altar. I neglected you and unwittingly led you to believe that I no longer loved you. You do not deserve such a foolish man, so ignorant to forget how good you are to me, how there can be no other woman because you are my perfect match. I have been reminded of all the reasons of why I love you, and I swear on my existence that I love you more than I ever have.

Yet the truth is, I shouldn’t need to be reminded. You should never need to question my loyalty to you, and for that…I can only give my deepest apologies,” his voice trails to a volume so soft, yet so shaky with remorse. “The regret that I feel can’t even begin to hold a light to the pain that you must have kept bottled inside you, where you kept the cork in for as long as possible as to not burden me. I have failed you, and I will spend the rest of our days correcting my wrongs. In this very moment,” he pauses, inhaling a deep but quivering breath.

“I desperately and humbly request of you to give me this one last chance, to prove that I can be the man you deserve. I am begging you, my future queen, to forgive me.”

Your breath hitches with the last statement.

A prince never begs.

Yet he was here to lay it all out for you, imploring that you stand by his side, again, in more ways than one.  

“Please rise, Your Highness,” you call out softly, your hand reaching out to try lifting his chin and meet his gaze.

He stubbornly shakes his head. “Not unless you give me your answer.”

“Keiji, you don’t need—”

“Your answer. Please,” he beseeches with the last word, breath held. You know that when Akaashi becomes insistent, he never backs down yet somehow still allowing the other person to have a choice in the say. No thinking needed to be done, as your answer should be quite obvious.

“How could I ever refuse you, Keiji?” You tease softly with a smile.

Since the first moment he had kneeled before you, he looks up to see your face. Unshed tears glisten from the sun’s rays streaming through the glass. Your words are more than enough for him to stand on both feet again, soon wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into your shoulder. These acts of affection are only a small portion of what you had sorely missed, and you were counting on Akaashi to fulfill his vow.

“You are everything to me,” he breathes unsteadily into your neck. “And I will make certain that you never forget this, even after we pass.”

“I can trust you?”

“Yes. I promise.”

[lucadansembourg]

         𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠…  𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐃’𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐆

the basics.

name. wren albert d’ansembourg.

title. his royal highness, prince of luxembourg & duke of esch-sur-alzette.

age. 25-31.

family. luca ( @lucadansembourg​ ), wendy ( @wendyjuliette​ ) & lara d’ansembourg (ADOPT HERE) - siblings ; theodor ( @theodcr​ ) & josefina olderburg (ADOPT HERE) - cousins 

relationship status. utp.

occupation. socialite & influencer.

follower count. 27 million followers on twitter,16 million followers on instagram, 11 million followers on tiktok, 6 million subscribers on youtube & 2 million followers on twitch. 

faceclaim options. maxence danet-fauvel, charlie rowe, alex fitzalan, henrik holm, tarjei sandvik moe, deaken bluman, chase stokes, brenton thwaites, felix mallard, charlie gillespie, george sear. 

group. @highsocietyhq

the story.

the d’ansembourg twins were a shock to the world, and maybe that’s the way that wren preferred things. from the moment he was born, he wanted to be an outsider. while his sisters were prim, proper and put together, and his brother an overemotional idiot, wren stood as a monument to the weird that most people kept hidden away, locked in a drawer for no one to see. 

he might have grown up in the palace, but he would escape as often as he could. wren craved normalcy in his early years, and he managed to achieve that by sneaking out a side door to play football in a side alley with the local kids. his friends that may not have been “approved” by his parents, but they were approved to show him about the world - the real world, not the one of royalty. 

wren thought of himself as separate from his siblings, and not just because he was the baby of the family, but because he was just... different. he didn’t care for politics, didn’t care for other royal activities. in his teen years, wren was practically a recluse to his family, hidden away in his dorm room at le rosey or his own private rooms in the grand palace, constantly feeling like the only puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. 

wendy jokes sometimes that he must have been adopted, but wren is sure he wasn’t meant to be born into palaces and riches beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. 

while his parents always expected him to grow out of it, he did the opposite. he never stopped caring about the strange things he’d always regarded as more important that schoolwork. following lara to le rosey was one of the first truly “royal” things wren had done in his entire life, and he still managed to be awful at that. he was constantly in disciplinary hearings or getting shouted at by whichever teacher he pissed off with his detached attitude. but it didn’t crush his spirit at all, in fact, it only made him act out more. 

maybe it was an attention thing - that would explain the next ten years of his life that he’d spend vying for the favor of strangers over the internet to determine his own self worth, or whatever the therapist said. 

perhaps it was the years of his only friends being two kids raised by their laptop screens just outside the palace, or the hundreds of hours of looking at memes instead of actually doing as he was told, but something in wren made him want to do whatever he liked, no matter what others thought of him. 

when lara went off to oxford, wren took a gap year. and then another. and then another, and soon it had been five years - his sister had a master’s degree and he had a massive social media fanbase. he’s not sure which of them did better for themselves.

when his father died, wren realized that he was actually going to have to be a prince for the first time in his life. before, he’d let lara take the reins on anything and just showed up to parties in bright colored suits and weird patterned socks and ties that didn’t match. but now that his older brother was king: wren was expected to pull his weight. 

he was terrible at it, for starters. he said too much, threw jokes and lies out to the press just to see what they’d print the next day. he became somewhat of a cryptid for gossip columnists and tmz reporters, because if you could manage to catch him, wren would deliver biting remarks and hilarious anecdotes about the royalty around him. he loves to watch reporters scramble to confirm stories in any way they can. 

when nathalie died, he came back to luxembourg and found himself a bit aimless. he took up art during this time, making some really dark paintings and a whole lot of collage work, which he then had to convince luca to not hang up around the palace, because luca constantly plays at being everyone’s proud older brother. 

but he managed to pull the family back together, and things got easier, gradually. mainly, he helped everyone heal by not changing a thing - he stayed unabashedly strange through the entire ordeal, and in the process became a rock the others could rely on. 

maybe he wasn’t a misshapen puzzle piece, but just a weird one that took some time to figure out the location of. he didn’t feel like the outcast anymore, but instead a valued member of the family - and had they always treated him like that? he wasn’t sure - and that was the worst part. how could he stay in their favor if he didn’t know what he did to earn it?  

his (not so) “secret  twitter" is well known by most of royal stan twitter, and getting a follow back from him is something that is worn like a badge of honor. he pretty much exists on there to roast his siblings’ outfits and choices, but also to poke fun at all other royals. truly, it’s just one more piece of controlled rebellion. he wouldn’t say things to hurt his family... on purpose, at least. 

it became an arnauld d’orleans hate twitter during the occupation. he would come up with very colorful roasts to go along with photos taken of the french king from bad angles. it was resistance, the only way wren d’ansembourg knew how to do it. his plenty of instagram lives and twitch streams helped, too - bringing visibility tothe occupation of luxembourg to places that many people would have turned away from it altogether. 

and when the occupation ended, he threw a party in the back alley behind the palace that he grew up in. by the end of the night, it was attended by thousands of luxembourgian citizens. lara frowned upon it, but wendy had the time of her life, so he had enough support to call their “sibling vote” on whether he’d fucked up, a dead tie. 

he ran a charity stream that raised over eight million dollars for relief in belgium after the bombings, taking requests for things he could do in his room. he only broke four priceless artifacts during it,.

when he was invited to the protection program, he was the most wary of it. he didn’t need to network, he didn’t need to be protected from anything. wren knew he could care of himself, but a change of scenery seemed... kind of fun. it was getting boring in luxembourg, now that things have settled. and as long as he’s able to be connected to wifi, and he’s allowed to do at least three stupid tings a week, everything ill be alright. 

interested? contact me! 

i do want to say that i feel like the main thing i am looking for in a wren applicant is that his vibe is.... strange. i imagine wren is a 100 gecs song if it came to life.  he’s an ancient chaos god trapped in the lanky body of a d’ansembourg man.

most things are negotiable, and i’d love to discuss any changes or ideas you have. please contact me ( @lucadansembourg​ ) if you’re interested in filling this connection !!

[renzu-valra]

Free-write #2: May 4th

Character: ??? ♦ Region: Ishgard ♦ Time: Present

hosted by: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​ / (may 4th meaning) warnings: heavy stalking

The first time he had seen her was reminiscent of encountering a storybook princess. Even though he was certainly not the prince who had claimed her heart…or had yet to—her face, her eyes…pulled him in and made him believe it was so. That he was the one she couldn’t live without.

He had been visiting with a friend that night. A quaint little get-together with a few others, if you would. After they had eaten, he had gone to sit by the window looking out onto the main street with an iron pipe in hand. He had noticed a few carriages come and go by—stopping near the gate leading to the manor next door. Were they also having a dinner party of sorts? He couldn’t guess the occasion this late into the evening, however he figured he might as well people-watch as he enjoyed the cool night air before returning to the parlor.

And with the sip of his final drag, he leaned over and began to pull the window back in. It was then that something caught his eye. The carriage that had just arrived had an odd aura about it; and it was made odder yet when an elderly man cloaked head to toe stepped out from it. He looked highly suspect and just glancing at him from afar gave him the feeling he was being watched. But that was impossible—surely it was. He kept watching only because he knew he hadn’t been spotted yet and the old man intrigued him. That was when…he saw her. The man had reached back into the carriage and procured from it a hand gloved in the finest of white silks. A woman began to follow suit—aided by her presumed attendant. Her dress shined like pearls brighter than even the moon above. She was so slender and graceful from what he saw of her legs when first they stepped out from the dark of her carriage. And her face…radiant with life and a tranquil stillness that at he thought he had been looking at a painting of a woman and not the genuine article. Her smooth skin as if the purest of snows contrasted by the black soot of her long, voluptuous hair.

Once she was stood firmly upright on the ground, he was able to fully take in the beauty of her. The warm, fluffed petticoat she wore a stunning dark blue which brought out the resplendent profoundness of her white gown and black hair which flowed like ocean tides. Her trained posture which added to her height and made him believe her some sort of Elezen royalty from a faraway land. But already she was leaving—making for the manor just uphill—he wanted to watch her more. Learn more about her. And in that sudden desperation he dropped his pipe and nearly fell out the window himself. That caught her attention. Although only for a second longer. She looked up at him…and smiled.

Even though she walked away soon after, he felt as if that one smile lasted an entire lifetime. He saw the world shimmering through her gorgeous blue eyes, inviting him to explore it with her. To leap at once from the open window and run after her—to make her his.

Yet, he remained frozen in place. He must’ve stood still like that for hours, as he didn’t even realize that his friends were calling for him as it was time to go. What he wouldn’t give to be with her. To see her just one more time…

- - -

He had seen her since that night. Had continued to see her. It wasn’t up close and personal however, as he had once wished it to be. Watching her from a safe distance…seeing how she frequented the same manor he had first saw her visiting that fateful eve.

What he learned of her lifestyle was that she lived somewhere far away from Ishgard. Where exactly, he could not say for now. When she was in the city though, it wasn’t for very long. From what he could tell, she disliked being in the public eye as she only travelled by night and through areas that weren’t often frequented. There we others who journeyed with her too when she came to visit. Two children who appeared unrelated to her. Their relationship entirely unclear to him. Even so, he wasn’t against them being together—their innocent nature making hers stand out ever-the-more. Adding to her beauty even still…

In all the times he’s watched her, no one else had been around. Save for her cloaked attendant. He could excuse his presence however…he wasn’t vying for her heart, after all. It was as if she knew he was watching—and wanted his eyes on her alone. That was why took her rare evening strolls into the alleyways rather than the open streets. Why she always made sure that there was a little nook or cranny in the wall for him to hide in with ample room to see her through. Why inside of holing herself up inside all day long, she went outside long enough for him to catch a glimpse. To follow her.

Surely she knew he was there. Surely she did…

If only…she would leave her attendant behind so he’d have a chance to speak with her. To hear her voice. To learn her name.

Once, he thought about going up to the manor she always seemed to frequent. She never spent the night there—instead opting out for a fancier hotel...but surely whoever lived there knew more about her than he did. However, when he asked his friend who occupied the estate, he gave up all hope of chancing it.

It was another man.

Someone of stupendous wealth and notoriety. A person he had no chance of rivaling if he proved to be romantically involved with his beloved. If he went up to his manor and saw him with her…

He wouldn’t know what it’d inspire him to do.

- - -

Tonight was the night. She had finally come back. To the same room she always had reserved for herself each and every time she came to the city. He was staying in the room adjacent to it—he’d known the moment she arrived because no one else booked that room out besides her. Just like no one else had been able to request the room he was staying in now. He’d been here for moons. Waiting ever so patiently for her to return. Because this time around, he had something special in store. A way to make it easier on him each day she was away. So he wouldn’t have to suffer in her absence ever again.

With his hand pressed up against the wall separating them, he closed his eyes and breathed in the faint noises coming from the other side. It was late…she was certainly tired after the long trip. She was…

Undressing.

His breath stiffened and he pulled away from the wall. He felt as if he was genuinely in the room with her just then—this was an invasion of her privacy. He shouldn’t be watching her do that…he should be a gentleman and give her space. At least until she was ready for him to see her in such…an intimate way, that was.

He knew…just from what little he heard…that the children weren’t with her this time. And based on how she was changing freely just now, neither had been her attendant. That, or he was sleeping in another room close by. If he went to her room now—knocked on her door…she’d answer, and he’d have her all to himself. It’s what he’s always wanted, right? What he said he’d been waiting for all this time. A chance to have her alone.

Unguarded.

H-He could say that ne noticed her coming in late. Invite her over for a cup of tea—to help warm her up from the cold. And if she was in her nightgown, as she surely was, then he’d change the date to tomorrow morning. Be polite. She’s getting ready for bed. Why had she decided to come alone here—where she must’ve known he’d be waiting? It had to be for this reason. So they’d finally have the chance to meet. All he had to do was take that first step forward.

- - -

Ultimately, he couldn’t. And once she had departed for the day—he stole into her room to retrieve the very special little something he had left behind.

It had cost him a hefty sum since it had to be transported secretively. He wasn’t even guaranteed he would receive it at all as they had full right to take his money and run. Procuring such a device from a land as dangerous as Garlemald wasn’t a task just anyone would take and intend to go through with it. But eventually, through much trial and error…he had it in his hands. And now it also had the footage he so desperately longed for as well.

This little device was capable of capturing live moving images on it through its black lens and compress them down into something called data. Storing said data into a processor and converting it back into live feed. Over and over again. He’d be able to watch her through the screen on the other end of this device.

However, when he thought back to last night—the things it must’ve recorded…he found his face warm with embarrassment. Was he truly privileged enough to view her in such a state of raw vulgarity? No. He’d have to work up to it. Slowly. Just the smallest little bit at a time. One small little step a time.

Psyching himself up for it, he laid down in his bed and stared up into the dark screen that reflected his face back to him. Then…he took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. Exhaled. And pressed the button.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw her through the now coloured square. She was…

She was..? She…

His mind was unable to process what he was seeing now. That was her room most definitely, but the person he saw through the camera’s lens was…

Blurry. Undefined. Unknown—like some sort of translucent fog that was both there and not. A person, whom to anyone else would be completely visible…but to him, it was as if his mind had a difficult decision to make. One that would change how he saw the love of his life forever.

If he was sane, he would see the woman for who she truly was on the other side of the screen. Yet he was far too disillusioned now to see her any other way than how he had known her all this time. And when he had subconsciously come to terms with that fact, the image cleared up and he saw her in all her radiance once more.

With this, he would always be with her. By her side. Even when she was too distant to see. He would make this work—their long distance relationship of sorts. Until the day came in which he was brave enough to make her his. Then they would never have to be parted again.

[korejinnie]

BTS 'Black Swan' Official MV (Theory Analysis)

First, let's talk about the parallels between Black Swan MV and the movie "Black Swan"

Alright, now let's move on to the analysis. At the beginning, we see that this MV is set in a theater and pretty much the only source of light are the theater spotlights. In one of the scenes, we see Yoongi rapping on stage, with a spotlight shining on him. Interestingly enough, the light actually casts TWO shadows. One is Yoongi's physical shadow, and the other is his psychological shadow. The psychological shadow is the source of BTS' doubts and fears. We see that the psychological shadow is projected two times larger than the physical shadow and that the shadow is dancing by itself. This portrays how BTS has lost control of their shadow and how the shadow is in turn manipulating them and causing them to slowly drown in their deepest fears and insecurities. The theater setting may also be a reference to Phantom of the Opera, as in the Phantom essentially lured and manipulated the main female protagonist, Christine, to help him. She’s like the persona on the stage (nina from black swan), while the phantom is the one source that was controlling christine (aka her shadow).

Having one single spotlight shine on the boys may also portray how when BTS is shining at their brightest, they happen to feel isolated and fearful of losing their passion for their music and career.

Just like how Yoongi sang in MOTS Shadow Interlude, “The moment I face myself brought lowest, It so happens that I’m flying the highest”. 

Now, let's talk about the painting we see behind the boys while they're performing on stage. This painting is actually a theater curtain!

The theater curtain is titled the "1931 Act Curtain". 

The description of the curtain states that "The elaborate act curtain was said to be one of the most expensive commissioned in its time, depicting Louis XIV, his wife, his mistress, as well as the French Army and Navy.

It is constructed in silk with a three-dimensional effect such that the figures and animals actually stand out from the curtain by a few inches to give them depth. The main figures have real wigs, the hair gently billowing as the curtain moves up or down”. Though this theater curtain may have originally been installed within the theater simply for decoration purposes, in terms of the Black Swan MV analysis, I believe we can see the curtain painting as a representation of the Persona.

As most of you may already know, REAL wigs are relatively quite expensive, as it is made from real hair, rather than synthetic material. Usually only the rich or royalty can afford such luxuries, especially in the early 1900s. So following the idea of the painting depicting "Louis XIV, his wife, his mistress, as well as the French Army and Navy", it is evident how "the main figures have real wigs, the hair gently billowing as the curtain moves up or down". Especially with the idea of "the hair gently billowing as the curtain moves up or down" and the curtain painting being "constructed in silk with a three-dimensional effect such that the figures and animals actually stand out from the curtain by a few inches to give them depth". This signifies the artists' attempt at making something that's one dimensional look 3D. 

The idea of putting on a mask before the show begins, especially with the depiction of the painting and the fact that it is AN ACTUAL theater curtain, comes to further emphasize the idea of putting on a persona and covering up your Shadow before putting on a show for everyone to see. 

Now, the following scene intrigues me, as we see multiple scratches on the black wooden floor that the boys are performing on, in the dark under one single spotlight. Though the scratches may simply indicate that BTS had been practicing a lot on the stage, the scratches also reminded me of this scene from WINGS Short Film: AWAKE. 

Scratches on surfaces usually indicates that someone is very anxious. In this case, Jin may have been really anxious to leave or perhaps escape the room he was in, in the short film. Similarly in Black Swan MV, the scratches may be referring to how BTS is very anxious to escape their Shadow that's haunting them. Perhaps they're vigorously and constantly dancing in an attempt to find liberation from the darkness and their ever growing Shadows.

But speaking of AWAKE, besides the scratches, there's actually also various other scenes that shares similarities to the Black Swan MV. Furthermore, WINGS era actually shares many similarities with both the Black Swan MV and Movie.

Again, we see this parallel between Black Swan MV and BS&T in this scene at the grand staircase of the theater (BTW the theater that BTS filmed at for the MV was the Los Angeles Theater):

If you would like to gain deeper insight and understanding as to how Black Swan and BS&T are connected, please refer to my previous theory on “Why BTS Dies Twice (1st in BS&T, 2nd in Black Swan) In Order to Be Reborn to Ego”

Anyways, the boys continue to dance within the darkness throughout the rest of the MV. At the very end however, we see Jungkook sitting by the edge of the railways of the theater. He turns around to see his enlarged shadow on the curtain.

However, as soon as he turns around, the shadow subsides and disappears back down, seemingly hiding back into where it belongs, in the dark. After the shadow disappears, Jungkook gets up and walks away.

This may be illustrating how "Black Swan" more or less, is a depiction of BTS' occasional fears and insecurities. As, with the fact that Jungkook is able to walk away from his shadow in the end, means that the Shadow isn't always present and haunting them. By the end of the day, the boys' insecurities of the possibility of losing passion for their music and career, and various other sorts of fears ultimately subsides. Their shadow may always continue to exist, but they are able to face their Shadows head on because they continue to have one another and believe in themselves, hoping that the future will, despite filled with various obstacles and challenges, ultimately lead them to a better place. 

[turtlepated]

The Ghost and the She-wolf

Part 7

------

Let me preface by saying, sorry for the long wait! It has been super crazy these last several weeks (as I’m sure it has been for, like... everybody.) and I’ve been distracted.

But! 

The wait is over!

Thank you all so much for your patience and your feedback and I hope you enjoy! 

Tag List

@nikkivfx , @beetlejuicebeadoll , @insomni-snacc , @do-ya-hear-that-sound , @young-erstill , @dilfyjuice @monsterlovinghours

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You kept pace with Zhuk as he and the man he’d introduced as Scarabee strolled amicably down the otherwise deserted street that ran from the fountain near the docks straight through the heart of the seemingly vacant settlement. There were houses, inns and taverns, shops and stables, all completely bereft of life. Zhuk and Scarabee were engaged in pleasant conversation, mostly about their respective illicit trades. You gathered that, unlike the seafaring larceny Zhuk partook of, Scarabee made his way smuggling spirits. Rumrunning, on the surface, may have seemed like the milder of the two crimes, but you knew for a fact that rumrunners could be every bit as nasty and cutthroat as any pirate, and there were many who did both.

“If you’ll excuse my ignorance, gentlemen,” you interjected, both of them fixing you with expectant looks. “Where is everyone? There’s a whole town here with no one residing in it.” The two men exchanged a poignant glance before breaking into laughter. Zhuk was more composed, chuckling warmly deep in his barrel chest while Scarabee made no attempt to stifle his amusement. You frowned darkly at them, pointedly stopping where you were and folding your arms impatiently over your chest, waiting for them to collect themselves. “Apologies, volchista,” Zhuk all but cooed, trying to soothe your ruffled feathers. “It is a fair question, particularly if one does not know any better.”

“We didn’t mean anythin’ by it, cher,” Scarabee assured you, his mismatched eyes still glittering with mirth. “And as an added antidote to our rudeness, allow me to explain.” 

He gestured with his walking stick and his free hand to the dark and empty buildings that lined the main street where you all stood. “You’ll find that we all have different names for this place. I myself, as you may recall, like to call it Carrefour. Means “crossroads,” you see. And that’s what this town is, really. The dead come here from all over, but this is not the place where they’re meant to remain. It’s a waiting room of sorts, a stepping off point to whatever comes next.”

You frowned, not understanding, and Zhuk elaborated. “The town has always been here, we think, always exactly as you see it now. The departed arrive, some may linger for a time as you saw when you met your men, but eventually they all go on.” Your frown deepened, guilt twinging in your chest again at the memory of Mathers and your crewmen fading away before your eyes. “Where do they go?” Zhuk smiled sadly. “That we do not know,” he answered, his voice a deep throaty rumble.

“Wherever it is we were meant to go, I suppose,” Scarabee added with a nonchalant shrug. At his words you turned to gape at him, realization striking you suddenly, that he must be… like Zhuk in some way. He grinned his feline grin as he watched you appraising him with a new comprehension, speaking to Zhuk while keeping his eyes on you. “Mon amie, just how much have you shared with your charming companion?” Zhuk only hummed pensively, scratching at his whiskery chin. Scarabee’s grin widened, his green-and-purple eyes narrowing shrewdly at the Russian captain for a moment, reaching his hand into an interior pocket of his opulent black and gold jacket and withdrawing an expensive looking pocket watch, checking the time. If you weren’t mistaken, there appeared to be human finger bones dangling from the chain like charms.

“We’d best adjourn to the house,” he said, closing the watch with a sharp snap and stowing it once more. “The others won’t be long, and I believe we have much to be getting on with.” Zhuk nodded in return and you all set off down the main road again, soon leaving the ghost town behind and finding yourselves in thick jungle. You swallowed, unsettled by the thick shadows between the tightly packed trees, the rustling of leaves as though something were moving just beyond the narrow trail. Almost subconsciously you quickened your pace to keep stride with Zhuk. It felt like things were watching you, unseen, from within the impermeable darkness to either side. The two men appeared utterly unconcerned, so you did your utmost to show no trepidation as a pair of large gates of dark wrought iron loomed ahead.

Raising his walking stick, Scarabee gave the cold iron a resounding tap with the head of his stick and they creaked open of their own accord, swinging shut with a decisive and jarring clang as the three of you passed through them. “Ma petite chérie,” said Scarabee grandly, bowing at the waist and gesturing you forward. “Welcome to our humble abode.” Your breath caught in your lungs as you took in the sight of the domicile before you. An Italian renaissance manse, four floors with twin pairs of chimneys at the front and rear of the structure, a roof of scarlet tiles, the entryway flanked by arches and marble pillars, a raised stone courtyard flanked with creeping plants.

You were vaguely aware of Scarabee snickering to himself at your stunned silence, Zhuk stepping up beside you with a chuckle. “Come along, volchitsa,” he rumbled. “Come and meet the rest of the family.” The next several minutes were a whirl of activity. Zhuk looped his arm around your unresisting hand and led you into the mansion, up the red carpeted stairs of the great hall, down corridors of gleaming marble floors and rich carpets, past rooms with vaulted ceilings and sparkling chandeliers, wood paneled walls and paintings and all the other trappings of nobility or even royalty. Zhuk and Scarabee ushered you into what looked to be some sort of parlor or smoking room, a lavish fireplace at one end of the room already made up and crackling heartily. Most of the walls were taken up by shelves, laden with books in dozens of tongues and a vast array of brick-a-brack from every corner of the world it seemed.

“Make yourself comfortable,” said Zhuk, indicating the number of large armchairs situated in a vague half circle by the hearth. Still somewhat overwhelmed by the grandeur all around you, you sank into the first chair you came to, your head unable to stop from swiveling all around, trying to take everything in. Zhuk crossed to a side table and poured himself a measure of clear liquid that you felt sure was not water, setting the crystal decanter back in place. “Anything for you, Scarabee?” he called to the other man who stood by the hearth, one hand braced on the mantlepiece with the other perched on his hip, his coat swept back as he gazed absently into the crackling flames as though studying them. “No, thank you, I brought my own.” Reaching once more into his coat he produced a flask. “Though our guest might be grateful for something to settle her nerves. She looks anxious as a lamb in a den of wolves.”

Zhuk moved to stand by your chair, fixing you with a concerned look. “I’m perfectly fine,” you insisted, proud of the way your voice didn’t waver despite the unease roiling in your stomach. How had your attempts to capture a pirate led you here? To an island that should not exist, sitting in the smoking room of a mansion owned by men who, by their own admission, were meant to be dead? Zhuk did not seem convinced by your feigned poise, reaching out a hand to sweep a loose lock of hair back over your ear. “There’s no need to be frightened, moye sokrovishche,” he murmured. “No one here will harm you.” He let his fingertips linger on the curve of your jaw, and you turned your head to meet his eyes. He spoke the words with such assuredness; it wasn’t merely an empty statement for your benefit, he would see to it that no harm came to you regardless of what did or did not happen when these “others” arrived.  

Scarabee seated himself in one of the adjacent armchairs, crossing his legs and observing the two of you with an inscrutable expression. As one, all three of you turned to face the tall open double doors at the sound of rapid footfalls coming down the marble hallway toward the parlor. A moment later another man strode into the room, heading straight for the side table where the drink service was set. 

“Well, lads,” he said aloud in a definite Irish lilt to no one in particular. “We are well and truly fucked.” Zhuk rolled his eyes as Scarabee chuckled, steepling his fingers under his chin. “Always a pleasure, Ciaróg,” he replied, apparently unbothered by the vaguely troubling assertion. Ciaróg hummed, having already splashed what you took to be whiskey into a glass and raised it to his lips, draining it in one go and pouring a second portion. “Didn’ I tell ya that Renard bastard was trouble?” he said, pointing accusingly at the other two. “Told me I was frettin’ over nothin’, said there was no chance he could talk his way out of the noose, but lo an’ behold! They went an’ made him a fuckin captain!” 

Zhuk grimaced, still standing somewhat protectively by your chair. “Please, Ciaróg, at least attempt to calm yourself,” he said. “And watch your language, we have a guest.” Ciaróg had already planted himself heavily in one of the vacant seats, the amber liquid in his glass sloshing precariously, looking up at Zhuk with a puzzled expression before his eyes finally landed on you. His brilliantly green eyes widened, brows shooting up toward the bill of the flat cap atop his head. 

“Bless my eyes,” he said slowly, his previously harried demeanor dropping away at once. He sat himself up straight, favoring you with a rakish grin. “Beggin’ your pardon, rud álainn. Did’na even see you sittin’ there on account of Fionn mac Cumhaill tryin’ to keep you hid from me.” The playful Irishman thumbed at Zhuk, who rolled his eyes again and sighed through his nose. You could only blink, taken aback by the blatant flirtations, taking in his appearance as he did yours: shoulder length hair, several thin braids decorated with beads and bits of colored thread, the bridge of his nose dusted in freckles.. Seeing the three of them all together you did notice similarities: their pale complexions, in the muted greens and grays like that of a corpse; the unnatural greenish hues to their hair; the decidedly inhuman quickness of their movements, even something as simple as their eyes tracking on another. 

“Cia!” called another voice from outside the doors. “Amigo, where did you go?”  “In here,” Ciaróg called back, eyes still on you. “Come an’ meet Zhuk’s new friend.” At once yet another figure appeared in the doorframe, a lanky man with a dancer’s frame, a mess of dark green wavy hair swept back from his forehead, and a singularly amorous look on his face. Good Lord, how many of them were there?! “Zhuk, have you been keeping secrets from us?” he purred, crossing the room in a few long strides and gracefully lowering himself by your chair, nonplussed when you recoiled slightly in equal parts embarrassment and surprise. The newcomer caught your hand in both of his, delicately grasping your wrist and the tips of your fingers in his hands as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Estoy tan contenta de conocerte, encantadora dama,” he mumbled against your skin. “Steady on, Bajo, you’ll scare the lass off!” Ciaróg chastised, slumping back in his seat and swirling his glass while the man he’d called Bajo backed off from you with a laugh even as you withdrew your hand from his grasp and bunched it stiffly into your lap with the other hand. Zhuk loudly cleared his throat, glowering at the two like a thoroughly exasperated teacher scolding a pair of rowdy pupils. “Are you two incapable of behaving yourselves?” Cia and Bajo, looking utterly unapologetic, merely grinned back at him but Bajo did at least rise and give you some space, seating himself in the chair between Scarabee and Cia. “Can you blame us, amigo?” he asked, plucking Cia’s half empty glass from his hand while his attention was on you and Zhuk and draining it, earning a scowl and a muttered curse in Gaelic. “It is very unlike you to have a guest. And such a pretty one at that,” Bajo went on, winking and blowing a kiss at you. You blushed, trying to remain stoic and unruffled but you had certainly not expected this. Zhuk was a powerful presence, a feared pirate, you had expected his associates to be like him, but it seemed he was the lone voice of reason amongst lunatics. “Anyway, what’re we waitin’ for?” Cia asked, glancing around the room as if counting heads. “Of course… Where’s the Italian?” he griped. You had also taken note of the one empty chair. Presumably you were seated in Zhuk’s customary spot, while the others had gravitated towards their seats in a way that indicated familiarity. Which left one seat still unoccupied. It was Scarabee who answered, having been silently observing the proceedings since he sat down. “On his way. He sent word.” Cia scoffed, swatting Bajo on the upper arm to get his attention. “Must be at another one o’ his fancy dinner parties,” the Irishman joked, the two of them sharing a laugh at the remark. This time it was Scarabee who interrupted their frivolity, rapping the metal tip of his cane on the dark hardwood floor. “While we’re waiting on Scarfaggio, why don’t you elaborate on your earlier comment, Ciaróg?” Cia’s brows raised again. “What? Y’mean about how we’re all fucked? What didja think I meant? Renard, o’ course! We always knew what a cunt he was, but now he’s a cunt with the Royal Navy at his back!” Zhuk winced, glancing apologetically at you before turning back to Cia. “Radi vsego svyatogo, sledi za svoim yazykom!” he nearly growled. Cia leveled a long suffering expression at him and flipped him off, eliciting snickers from Bajo. “What I’m sayin’ is that the lil bastard is out there now practically with his own private armada!” “What?” you asked, alarmed, four heads turning towards you. “How many ships does he have?” Bajo ticked them off on his fingers, “Colossus was the first iron-side, there’s at least three more; two in the Atlantic and one in the Caribbean.” “There are four more besides Colossus,” Zhuk corrected. “As we had the misfortune of discovering in Java Sea.” Cia was nodding emphatically. “We’ve seen what one of those things can do, y’know what two can do? I saw ‘em do it, they’ll skewer both sides of a ship with their fuckin lances and then steer away from each other. Tear the ship apart!” 

You suppressed a shudder as a chill crept down your spine, thinking about how close you had come to witnessing such savagery firsthand. You’d always heard the rumors, of course, about Renard and his pet project, but the idea of his reach extending so far, spanning oceans was distressing to say the least. “So for now, he only has five,” you said, thinking out loud. “Those five will soon be the least of our problems.”

All eyes turned to the back of the room one final time as the fifth man strode into the room. He was impeccably dressed in an officer’s dress uniform, dark hair slicked back with one errant curl resting on his forehead as he approached the assembly, stopping just short of his empty chair but not sitting down. 

“It would seem that Ciaróg’s hyperbole was more accurate than even he knew,” the newcomer went on, withdrawing a folded piece of paper from the inside of his tailored coat. “This letter indicates that Renard has some sort of presentation to make before the Board of Admiralty, including the Lord High Admiral himself. No one knows for sure what he plans to bring to them, but most suspect he’s actually petitioning them for the funds to make a fleet of ironclads.” 

“Learn about all that at your little soiree?” Cia teased, earning another scowl from Zhuk and Scarabee as well as the sharply dressed new arrival. “Yes, Ciaróg, as a matter of fact I did,” he retorted through gritted teeth, and you got the distinct impression that this was a recurring conversation. “As I have told you again and again, it’s never about the party, the part is merely a device used to display power, wealth, prestige. There are few better places to obtain information than from a gathering of wealthy, prideful revelers looking to brag about their ambitions or achievements. Perhaps one day you may realize that the contents of a ship’s papers can be every bit or even more valuable than the contents of her hold.” 

“Yes, of course, Scarafaggio,” said Scarabee, sounding like a referee in a boxing match. “We are all aware of your contributions to our endeavors and continue to appreciate all your efforts. What else did you find out?” Shooting one last scathing look at Cia and Bajo, who were still glancing at one another as though barely able to contain themselves, Scarafaggio schooled his expression once more. “Apparently he plans to make his presentation at the grand masquerade being held at the Lord High Admiral’s estate. They’ll be celebrating his thirty year career, and I shouldn’t doubt there will be some intrigue related to who will fill the post when he retires. We can count on Renard to throw his hat into the ring, and if his ironclad fleet proves as successful as Colossus and her sisters, there is a troubling chance that he may well get it.”

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Yay! First time writing all the boys! It was NERVE. WRACKING. But I like what I ended up with? 

Sorry no ETA for part 8 yet, but in the meantime I will make available the Google doc so all the various parts will be in one place together in order to make it easier to re-read! And I’ll also put the tags to the previous chapters below.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

And hopefully this link works, if it doesn’t let me know!