#please be patient as it’s hard to write so many important characters into one fic

[yan-lorkai]

Tips for someone who wants to start their writing blog? 👉👈

Helllllllllllo darling! (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ~

-- First of all:

Sometimes you're going to write a lot and sometimes you won't even want to open your drafts because you'll be tired from it. And that's ok, always know your pace or else you're going overwhelm yourself wanting to write everything. Also don't ever delete your drafts, yes, even the ones you don't want to write anymore. Ideas and concepts can be reused later!

-- Grammar!

I'm not yet fluent in english so sometimes I write with the dictionary open in another tab lol, thing is this is very important. To better your grammar you can practice writing drabble and prompts, you don't even have to post it if you don't like it. I also recommend to read a lot as reading works to inspire you and to analyse how different every writer writes. Like, I love writing dialogues so sometimes I have a hard time writing descriptions bcs I can't focus on them. When this happens I just skip it and put a () for when I'm proofreading to edit it.

Though commiting little errors are common and totally fine, darling! You're allowed to commit them. Don't ever "omg, there's so many typos on my fics people must hate them and me" or smth, is normal to make typos actually :)

-- Rules

It's your blog, darling. You have the final say on every matter. Don't ever feel pressured to write something just because people ask you to. Though be prepared because sometimes people won't read it so you have to be patient. Put the rules on somewhere visible, change their color, PUT THEM ON ALL CAPS!

Be very specific. Like, what fandoms do you write for? How many characters can people send in? What are you comfortable writing and what are you willing to try? Is there something that you won't tolerate being sent in your inbox? Things like that!

-- Ramble, share, talk

Let us hear what you have to say. Your ideas, even if they seem silly to you, are very interesting to the audience. Also let your followers to connect and interact with you <- I say this as if I wasn't so shy and awkard that eveytime I want to share sometimes I'm hit with ah well nobody will care anyway. This is the devil speaking, do not the same I do, darling!

-- Aesthetic and tags

I like this part hehe. As I said, this is your blog darling. It's almost like your second home. And people like their home being pretty and comfy. So try making your blog look like that! Choose an aesthetic, a character or something that speaks to you. And don't be afraid to change.

Also about tags. Everyone has its own. Tag everything: fics, characters, fandoms! They're so important, darling, you can search for them on your blog later and a tagged fic has a higher chance of showing up in the main feed. Besides it'll be easier for people to navigate through your blog (also make a masterlist, yes, even if it's a hassle to maintain it).

-- Don't be afraid

Writing is hard, is true. Motivation can come and go, sometimes time won't allign it with your want to write, y'know just mundane things. If you have writer block then don't force yourself to write, you won't like it what you read when you're done and if you feel afraid to write something new then do it afraid. Do it afraid even if it's bad, do it afraid because otherwise you won't do it. Though if is something you don't know about then please search about it and talk with other people.

-- Have fun

The whole purpose of writing is to have fun. Do not anyone spoil your fun, babe. Have fun, laugh and cry writing, make friends along the way. If a story is loved by its writer then certainly everyone will feel it and love it just as much as love! :)

Hope this all helps. If you still have any questions then ask away and I'II try my best answering it!

[agoobersretreat]

And here's part two! Opinions and stuff from me!

So, that's tough to pin down? Like, what I think is underrated or is actually underrated? As those are very different answers, ya know?

Actually underrated that I see around? Haruhi fandom stuff. Stuff I think is underrated but actually isn't? Love Live fandom stuff, mostly in that I missed a lot of the peak years of the fandom for activity and such, apparently!

The shows we like to watch are anime or cartoons, mattering on the moods. Started Scooby-Doo: Where Are You? (The original first series, I believe?) a week or two ago and didn't get too far because of life stuff.

Neon likes to share Saint Seiya and the Transformers cartoons with us! Last month or so, I also streamed Ferngully, Robots and Happy Feet for a sort of themed movie block. Points if you see the theme without me telling you. :)

Oooorgh, that's a tough one! A lot of them are on here, actually, since I don't have time to read many books anymore.

You've got @somechubbynerd (girlfriend and great fic writer, helped me hone my own writing all these years), @pudgy-planets (Love how she writes her OCs and the Sailor Senshi interacting with each other and their own slice of life things), @justsescape (genuinely someone I consider a master of writing kinky romance that's equal parts both kinky and romantic), @muses-and-odd-fashion (the amount of lore this guy makes is amazing and I deeply respect his work to keep it all together) and @tonbatasonata (the one who actually pushed me to do my canon character blog the most and because I was writing opposite him here on Tumblr, with Taylor. (Yes, I know it doesn't take you there. He deleted the blog last year or so))

I hope that answers that question for you!

Hrrrrm, that's hard to say? There's the basic stuff, I guess. The role-playing scene, here and when I started elsewhere, has changed quite a bit since I got into it from 2007/2008!

My tips are going to be this:

-Have fun! Go into a fandom you're interested in with a canon character you like or maybe make an OC for that fandom? That's what I did to get into the Pokémon RP Community, back in the day!

-Be patient. Roleplaying is a hobby for most. Life happens and the like. At the most, maybe poke someone for a reply after a few days, just to check on them.

-If they'll let you and want to, definitely start roleplaying with your friends. Not saying that you have to, but knowing the other person a bit more on the other side is definitely a big help! And making friends through RP is also good fun! I literally met my best friend of 15+ years and my girlfriend (and also best friend) of 12+ years this way!

-This last one, I feel, is the most important: PLEASE FOLLOW ANY RULES OR DO'S/DON'TS THAT THE OTHER PERSON HAS. You wouldn't want someone to make you feel gross and uncomfortable playing with them, right? So, please do the same for them and take their lists and rules seriously. And hey, make sure you have some of your own posted, so they'll know where you stand on that kind of stuff, too.

Hope this helps!

Hrrrm, a good question! In no particular order, we have:

-The Lion King (1994)

-The Book of Life

-Puss in Boots: The Last Wish

-The Blues Brothers

-Happy Feet

-Robots

-Ferngully

-Early Man

-ParaNorman

-The Rescuers: Down Under

Mhmmm, those feel pretty good, yeah. :)

[fenharel-enaste]

A lesson in patience || CEO!Elendil x Fem!Reader (modern AU)

Rating: +18 (smut)

Summary: You visit Elendil in his office and decide to tease him a bit. What you don't know is that he doesn't like you playing with him when he's busy…

Content/warnings:  Dom!Elendil, brat!reader, explicit sex content, unprotected sex (don’t do this pls), p in v sex, cockwarming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, light choking, oral sex (f and m receiving), cum swallowing... ok there's no plot here, just pure filth lol

Word count: 3.2k

Notes: Being an AU I don’t even know if Elendil’s in character here, idk I was just horny I guess 😂

This is a oneshot I've written thanks to my lovely Elendilfer friends @starlady66, who inspired it with this post I'll never get over, @thetempleofthemasaigoddess, who suggested to write a fic about it. Thank you both so much!! 💖💖

Tagging: @grinkitty, @wint3r-h3art

It’s also on AO3!

You can’t wait to see Elendil today. He loves it when you sometimes surprise him by visiting him in his office close to his time to leave. You like to spend some time together there while he finishes some last minute paperwork before going out for dinner with you. 

You cheerfully greet the receptionist and he lets you in, as you've been there many times before and he knows you don't need Elendil's permission to enter his office, unless he's in an important meeting, of course. 

You knock on his door and enter when he tells you to come in; his face lights up with a smile, as it always does when you drop by. You greet him with a kiss on his lips that he gladly returns. "I'm so pleased to see you baby, come here." He invites you to sit on his lap to talk about your day and keep him company while he finishes his work. 

Some minutes later, you are both laughing as Elendil tells you an amusing incident that happened in the building earlier today when his mobile phone goes off. “Oh, I’m sorry, princess, I forgot I was expecting this call. I promise it’ll only take a few minutes, don’t worry,” he apologises before giving you a quick peck on the cheek and answering the call. 

There's not much you can do while you're waiting sitting on his lap, so you just stare at him as he talks. He seems very focused looking at his laptop screen as he listens intently to what his interlocutor is saying. He looks so sexy like that, and he's wearing the tie you bought him last week. You remember the way he tied you to the bed with it the day you gave it to him; you lost count of how many times he made you come while holding you still, always demanding one more. 

You feel a tingle between your legs at the memory and you squirm on his lap. He looks at you with amusement, as he's well aware of how much you like it when he has you sitting on him like this, with his arm around your waist to hold you tight against him. He squeezes your hip affectionately, in a gesture that says 'be patient and as soon as I'm done you'll have my absolute, undivided attention'. 

But the call is taking longer than you expected and you start getting impatient. You feel especially horny today and every passing minute is agony; you need him to touch you. You then decide to act playfully for once, push him to his limit. So you begin to move your hips again, slowly at first, but then you start touching him all over, his face, his hair, his chest, you bring your mouth to his jaw and kiss your way down his neck, then bite and suck him right where you know it drives him insane. 

Elendil glances warningly at you, he's starting to find it hard to keep up with the conversation, clearing his throat from time to time and he has to ask his interlocutor to repeat himself. You then position yourself so that you have one of his thighs between your legs and rub yourself against it repeatedly, lifting your skirt to can feel the friction through your underwear, just enough to show Elendil the new lacy panties you’re wearing for him. 

It's getting more and more difficult for him to speak, but he reaches his limit when you bring your hand to his crotch, making him let out a soft groan. He's already hard, you're so proud of yourself. “No, I’m... I’m okay, I’m sorry, something came up. I’ll call you later.” Elendil hangs up abruptly and you give him a playful smile, but his gaze is not playful at all. Oh no. 

“Get off me and lock the door. Now.” You feel a shudder down your spine when he uttered that last word. He hadn't done anything yet, but now that he's no longer under your control, you begin to regret your actions. You get up and approach the door slowly, locking it as you've been told. 

“Come here.” You walk up to him again and you feel your body shaking, maybe with fear, maybe with anticipation, maybe both. “Stop,” he orders you just before you reach him. “Strip. Slowly.” His deep, commanding voice never fails to turn you on even more, you love it when he orders you around like that; you’re so happy to comply. So you move slowly, swaying your hips, touching your body as you take off your clothes, piece by piece, putting on a show for him, as he lays back on his chair. 

You can feel his lustful gaze everywhere, especially when you take off your bra and he asks you to play with your tits. “Fuck, baby. Look at you...” And then you turn your back to him and lean forward very, very slowly as you slide your panties down your legs, exposing your already glistening cunt to him. 

“Stay like that and put your hands on the desk, love.” So you do, and he moves his chair closer to you, grabs your ass, squeezing it firmly with his large hands, and brings his mouth to your cunt, slipping his tongue between your soaking folds before devouring it hungrily. It is driving you insane. You hear him moan, sending vibrations against your skin. Your legs tremble and you have to rest your forehead against the surface of the desk, not wanting to feel anything but his warm tongue spoiling you and his raspy beard against your folds. 

You whine when he pulls his mouth away from your cunt. “Come here, love,” he murmurs as you hear him unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers. You feel a pressure in your belly as you anticipate how you want to fuck him on his chair, with your back to him, as you've done so many times before. Elendil then guides you onto his cock, one hand on your hip and the other holding his hardness as you slide down the length of his cock. He presses your hips even harder against his pelvis to reach even deeper. “Oh fuck...” He fills you so good. 

You grab the arms of the chair to help you rock your hips, but you are unable to do so, as Elendil won't let go of his tight grip on you. You try to move forward, backwards, anything to feel more friction. It's in vain. “Please, baby... I want to fuck you...” 

Elendil leans forward so that he can speak directly into your ear. “Do you really think I was going to let you get away with it just like that, hmm?” You feel a shiver run across your skin at the low tone of his voice. “You knew I was on an important call and you decided to behave like a brat even so. Now, be a good girl and stay still while I finish my work.” 

Then, Elendil calls back the person he was talking to earlier to continue the previous conversation. Frustration runs through your body; you've been looking forward to having fun with him ever since you walked through the door and now, you're not having any of it.��Even worse. You have exactly what you wanted inside you, but you couldn't get the pleasure you were craving. 

You try to follow his instructions, but it's too damn hard. His mouth had left you so ready for him, and you can feel him throbbing, sometimes twitching inside you. You can’t help but squirm on his cock. You immediately feel Elendil tugging lightly on your hair and briefly pull the phone away from him.

“Shh, I told you to behave, darling, can’t you do that just for five minutes?” he scolds you and bites your shoulder before resuming his work. That’s not helping you at all. 

Minutes pass, but they feel like ages. Now he's sliding his fingers lazily down your naked back, giving you goosebumps, while keeping his focus on the call. You lose it when he moves that hand around your body to reach one of your breasts and caresses it gently, playing with your nipple as if you were just a toy for him to casually play with while his attention is somewhere else. He’s being so unfair. 

You’re so horny your hips move again against him involuntarily, so he stops caressing your breasts and moves his hand back to your hip to give it a squeeze of warning. You obey him for a while, but you can’t help but keep squirming on him from time to time, you have no control over your body any longer, and the grip on your flesh becomes tighter and tighter, letting you know he’s far from finishing with you. 

You haven't heard a word of the conversation, but you're fully aware of the silence in the office when Elendil finally ends the call. The next thing you hear is his voice, this time aimed at you. “Apparently this doesn't work with you, I’m afraid, but don't worry, I still have some other methods to teach you how to be patient.” 

You have no idea what he's going to do next. You feel your own breathing quicken before finding yourself pinned against the desk, your legs practically dangling off it. One of Elendil’s hands holds your head still against the surface, the other one restrains your wrists and holds them behind your back. His cock’s still deep inside you. 

Without warning, he starts slamming his pelvis against you, yet you are so wet his cock easily slides inside you and you can't stop the loud moans escaping your lips, he had teased you and made you wait so long the pleasure he’s giving you feels like a first sip of water after hours lost in a desert, it felt heavenly. You won't last long, not long at all if he keeps up his relentless pace. 

“Fuck! Please, please... I’m so close...” It is just there, just a few more thrusts... you know it’s going to be an intense one. And just when you feel the pressure in your core is about to be released through your whole body, Elendil removes himself from you. 

“No! No no no, please, please, keep going...” you beg desperately, trying to pull your hips back to feel him again. 

“I told you, pretty one, I have ways to make you learn patience. Let’s do it again.” And he guides his cock back into you and resumes his thrusts, just as hard as before, hitting right where he knows it drives you insane. You need to cum so badly you try to hide your spams of pleasure from him. But he always knows, and he stops, and you try again, but he keeps stopping, edging you again and again and again. 

After countless attempts you just have to give up and take what he gives you, accepting the waves beginning to form in your belly just to feel them abruptly disappear at the very last moment. 

When you think you can’t take it anymore, you hear his voice again. “Alright, baby. Are you going to behave now?” he asks, releasing his hand from your head to caress your face and wipe away the tears you had shed in frustration. 

“Yes...” you say in almost a whisper. 

“What did you say?” You know him well enough to know what he wants you to say. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl,” he responds before turning you around and making you lie on your back on the desk, resting your legs on his shoulders. From this position, you can clearly see his lustful eyes and his mischievous grin as he enjoys the mess he’s made out of you, knowing exactly what he's going to put you through next. 

He then starts fucking you again, from a different angle this time, but not a less pleasurable one, your laud cries feeling the room once again. You can feel now the fabric of his shirt, slightly rough against your soft skin, the intoxicating scent of his cologne invading your senses, and the soft grip of his hand, now around your neck, pressing just enough to not completely cut your breath, but enough to make you feel his control over you. “Fuck, baby, you love this, don’t you?” he asks with a smirk on his face. 

Again you feel your orgasm approaching; this time, you pursue it in the hope that this time he'd let you come. But once again, you let out a long whine of frustration when you hear his words. 

“Don’t,” he commands. However, he doesn't stop his thrusts like before, but slows them down just a little. “This time you’re going to hold it, understood? I’ll tell you when you may come.” 

What??? You can’t, you just can’t. 

“No, please! Please, sir, let me cum, ple-” Your pleas are interrupted when your mouth is filled by two of his fingers. 

“That’s not an answer, my dear. Is. That. Understood?” His stern voice almost made you come and disobey him right at that moment, but you manage to fight it back and nod your head as you suck his fingers. 

“Alright, let’s try it again.” And he carries on with his brutal pounding once again, playing with your breasts and clit now, forcing you to deny your orgasm yourself. It is unbearable, he’s being so fucking unfair with you. You have to use all your willpower not to come, with tears running down your face and sweat all over your body due to your effort. It seems to you like you've been like this for hours. 

“You're doing so well sweetheart. Is there anything you want to say now?” Anything. You’d say anything for him to have mercy on you. 

“Please. Sir... I’m begging you, please...” You’re a sobbing mess right now, pleading for release. 

“That’s not what I want to hear, baby, try again.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“For what?” His hand on your clit begins to move faster, urging you to speak. 

“I’m so sorry for behaving like a brat... oh fuck!!” you cry out when you feel his hand slapping your ass, hard.

“And?” he demands lowering his voice even more. 

“I won’t do it again,” you finally manage to say between sobs. 

“Good girl.” 

“Please, please, sir... I can’t...” you beg, now panting heavily. 

“Hold it a bit longer, we’re almost there,” Elendil orders you once more as he keeps rapidly rubbing your clit, torturing you with both his cock and fingers. He leans forward to push your legs a bit and reach even deeper. You can’t take it any longer, you’re going to come and there’s nothing you can do about it. Just when you think you're going to be denied your climax again, you hear the so long desired words. 

“Alright, baby, you may come now.” And the pressure you've been building up in your core for so long finally explodes, releasing all over your body, and you come more violently than any other time you can remember. You lose all sense of where you are, not even aware of the screams leaving your lips uncontrollably. Elendil is well aware the whole floor is definitely hearing you, but he doesn't care - in fact, the thought of everyone knowing who's making you scream like this turns him on even more. So he continues his rough ramming into you as you come, and you can barely discern one orgasm from the next. He makes you come over and over again, praising you with every powerful orgasm. 

“Look at you. You’re so pretty when you come...”

“Again? Such an insatiable girl, you want more?”

You don’t know how many times he’s pushed you over the edge already. Your whole body feels so sensitive and overstimulated now, but he’s always able to give you more, and you welcome it gladly. 

When Elendil is sure that you are so exhausted and sated you won't be able to come any more, he carefully gets you off the table, slowly helps you get on your knees and guides his cock to your mouth. “You did it so well, baby, just one more thing for me...” 

You wrap your lips around him almost unconsciously. You feel numb by the intensity of your many orgasms, but you bob your head eagerly. There's few things you like more than pleasing him. "There you go, just like that." 

It barely takes him any time to reach his climax. He wanted to teach you patience and deny you your pleasure, but he's also had to deny himself all the time, and he must admit it's been a challenge, so now he just needs to feel your warm, soft tongue sliding along his throbbing cock and the back of your throat against his tip to spill his cum on your tongue and deep inside your mouth, letting out low grunts of pleasure. 

He tastes so good in your mouth that you can’t help but moan around his cock as you keep sucking him off; not stopping until you feel no more cum getting out of him. You love the proud look of his face when he sees you swallow it all. 

“Fuck baby... well done, such a good girl,” he praises you once more when he sees you run your tongue along the length of his cock to clean off any remaining drops. 

As soon as you’re finished, he helps you up and sits you in his chair. He kneels in front of you to cup your face in his hands and carefully look you in the eye to make sure everything's okay. “Are you alright, love?” You nod your head as you smile at him reassuringly.

“It’s been... quite intense and I feel a bit lightheaded, but I’m alright.” 

As soon as he hears you say that, he gets up, not before sweetly kissing your forehead and lips, and heads to the minibar to bring you a bottle of water. He opens it for you and helps you take the first sips. “Keep drinking, darling, I’ll be right back.” And you do as he asks as he heads to the restroom and comes out shortly after with a washcloth. He wipes it over your forehead, your face, your neck, absorbing the beads of sweat from your body. 

“Feel a bit better?” he asks with concern in his eyes.

“Yes, I feel much better now, thank you, my love.” And he gives you the sweetest smile as he brushes your cheek with the back of his hand. 

Suddenly, you remember the reason why Elendil had made you sweat like that. “Elendil, I’m so sorry I distracted you earlier, I don’t know what...” Your quivering voice is cut off by his warm lips on yours, which he tenderly kisses multiple times. 

“Don’t worry about that now, princess, you need to rest first. In fact, you should eat something. How about going to that restaurant you mentioned a few days ago? Sounds good?” 

Your stomach rumbles at the thought, and your tiredness seems to have vanished as you eagerly get up and begin to get dressed, drawing a beautiful laugh from Elendil, who watches you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I’m so in love with you, sweetheart, you know that, right?” he says staring captivatedly. Your heart melts at his words and you reach up to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. 

“I love you too, Elendil. I love you so, so much...” 

[fluideli123]

Would you mind giving me a crash course on writing plurality? It interested me the moment I read your analysis on Raph being plural, even more so when I went after the links in the post.

I'm going to be completely honest and upfront first. Writing Plurality can be hard when you know nothing about the community or only know how the media presents DID. Plurality is a diverse experience, so it's going to challenge your choice of perspective in your story, word choice, and self-awareness when you're falling into demonization about the experience. Especially when characters can be stereotypical and fall into demonization "easily." 

Writing a system is like writing a disabled character, a neurodiverse character, a cluster b character, a POC character, and so on. It takes a lot of understanding and discovering things you will have no idea how to explain because you've never experienced them or just don't know how to comprehend them. But the most important rule to writing any character(s) that go through things you don't is to remember that as long as you try your best, admit your mistakes, fix your errors, and never stop learning. You'll be able to achieve what story you want to tell with these characters. 

Like any community, you have a lot of different opinions, and the views from the community you're trying to write about are something you've got to at least have a basic awareness of. Because understanding what may be seen as problematic or what might cause someone to come bursting into your comment section on a fic or so on will help you decide whether you're going to change what this person takes issue with or keep it despite their beliefs on it. 

That doesn't mean you get to brush actual problematic things off, though. It's just a fine balance, especially if you're singlet. 

But with that out of the way! I will try my best to give a basic crash course on how to write Plurality. Now, I'm a very understanding, patient, detail-orientated person, so if you or anyone else needs to ask questions or need me to "dumb" things down, please don't hesitate to do so! This is a safe space; I enjoy teaching people and bringing more acceptance to issues and experiences many people don't understand, so it's okay to make mistakes here with the intent of fixing them! 

It All Starts With You

The first step to writing Plurality is to start with you. Now you might think, "What do I have to do about writing a system? Why does it matter that I've gotta start with myself first? :/" Well, I'll give a simple answer: 

Everything you write reflects who you are as a person and what work you're willing to do for your writing.

Now, I don't mean reflecting yourself as in, "Oh no! You write about murders, so you must be a murderer!" No, I mean how you perceive yourself, the world, and others affect your writing. 

An example of this is one of my favorite books, Life of Pi by Yann Martel. The author enjoys learning and believes in the ability to participate in multiple religions, so the character Pi in his story holds that characteristic, affecting how the story is written. I suffer from intrusive thoughts, so I write Mikey from ROTTMNT with pure O OCD (someone whose OCD doesn't showcase/have outward compulsions), which affects how I write his interactions with the environment and his internal dialogue. 

Why this is important is because if you believe there is such a thing as an "evil alter," that only disordered systems are true systems, and/or that there's no such thing as Plurality and people are just faking it, it'll show in your work whether you want it to or not. So, it's important to tackle your stance on Plurality. How who you are and what you believe and participate in affect how you write a system. 

I'll use myself as a perfect example! I'm very open-minded, but I'm very afraid of ghosts and demons. So when I learned that Possestive Systems were a thing, it scared me because the idea of being possessed makes me scared. I'm still afraid of demons and ghosts, but it no longer affects my interpretation and understanding of possessive systems. 

I'm not religious, but I love learning about religion and how people interpret it so learning about Spirigenic Systems was super cool! I believe endo systems deserve respect and exist. I also think that persecutors do not deserve to be treated unfairly, negatively, and purposefully hurt by their systems or those outside the system. They also deserve respect and understanding. 

This shows in my writing because I write Raphael as a diversian median system with a mixed origin with truamagenic and endogenic origins. I've made a few posts about Leonardo being a non-truamagenic system with non-religious spiritual connections to his ancestors (here, here, and here). I have even blatantly had Leonardo state in my Figuring It Out series the same perspective I have about Plurality: 

In summary, Leo's brother is a part of a system, and if anyone were to ever make Raph, or Mind and Red for that matter, feel awful about that in any way, he and his brothers and sister would fight them without hesitation. There was nothing wrong with being a part of a system, and anyone who disagreed could eat a dirty, used pizza box for all they cared. Red and mind are a part of their family, and no idiot could ever change that. 

Becoming aware of how Plurality makes you feel, think, and do is important, so while learning about Plurality, it's good to take time to assess why things make you feel this way or that way. Why you don't want to even try and write that experience but feel drawn to write about that one. 

And, by the way, it's okay not to write some experiences! I don't write much about DID systems, but a friend of mine does! A part of writing systems is writing what is most interesting/relatable/understandable to you! There will always be some system that resonates with a characteristic you've written about, and it's okay if you can't write some system experiences perfectly or at all!

This leads to the other half of what I said, that who you are will affect the amount of work you'll put into writing about Plurality, and I shall use myself as another example to help you understand what I mean. 

I am extremely passionate about learning about Plurality, so I am heavily involved in the community. I follow a lot of Plural blogs, have Plural friends, am a part of Plural discord servers, in activism, spend my time teaching others about Plurality, and have spent hours reading through Plural systems experiences over genuine, literal years. Because of this, I am very knowledgeable and deeply understand Plurality that not many singlets and even some systems have an understanding of. (This doesn't mean I am an expert and all-knowing, however. Please remember this. I am not a professional). I am willing to put years of research and interactions with the community into a piece of writing. 

You may be the same way, or you may just want to only know enough to get the basics down to a T, which in my opinion, is valid if done correctly! Understanding how willing you are to dedicate yourself to learning about Plurality to write it is just as crucial as understanding how you feel about it and tackling any Pluralphobia or hatred you have towards the community/experience. 

TL;DR: You have to figure out how you feel about Plurality and make sure you fix any issues you have towards or about Plurality. You have to understand how far you're willing to go to write Plurality, whether it's dedicating years to it or just wanting to know the basics. 

Where to Learn About Plurality 

Since I've spent years dedicating a portion of my life to learning and helping the plural community, I know a couple of ways that you can learn about Plurality for yourself and for your writing (because it is crucial you research before writing something). If you enjoy a laidback way of doing it, I recommend following blogs! If you want to read a lot, I recommend the dictionary! If you talk to the community directly, I recommend certain blogs, discord servers, and spaces where learning is the main idea!

Never just barge into any system/plural safe space with questions and concerns unless you know for certain they want to teach you. It isn't anyone's job to teach you or spend their day explaining what you want to know. They are beings with lives of their own, and they do not owe you anything. Respect is important; if you don't respect a system's time, boundaries, and wishes, you are in the wrong period. It is always important to ensure that you're asking questions and talking to systems that want to answer your questions with respect and patience. 

Here are the blogs and sites I recommend interacting with if you're not sure where to start (I will take any mentions off if those I've mentioned would rather I not @ them): 

@mixed-origin-system-culture-is

@funnier-as-a-system

@positively-plural

@dear-systems

@persecutorlifeandsupport

@endo-memes

@non-traumagenicsupport

Pluralpedia

Power to the Plurals

I am available to ask questions or get to know Plurality better, but as I said before, I am not an expert; I am not all-knowing; I am simply one opinion/experience in a sea of many, many others. Do not take my word as law and an end-all. 

I recommend following and interacting with open communities specifically for the kind(s) of Plurality you want to write. This will help you in writing system experiences/struggles/achievements/interactions relating to those experiences you choose to write about.

TL;DR: To write Plurality correctly and to the best of your abilities, you have to learn about Plurality in the best way that suits your learning needs. Also, systems don't owe you anything. Respect them. 

What to Avoid and How to Avoid it

Now, because there are a lot of stigmas, demonizations, misinformation, and discourse about systems, I am only going to talk about the main things you should always or at least try to avoid.

1) Gatekeeping Plurality 

Whether you're a system or a singlet, this is extremely important to remember. It is not your place to dictate who, when, or what is deemed "Plural enough," especially system experiences you/you& do not experience yourself/yourselves. 

You should avoid gatekeeping since it excludes systems from communities, help, and safe spaces. It's awful, and it hurts systems a fuck-ton. It's something that gets on my nerves because exclusion is literally the absolute worst. Excluding beings/groups/communities/experiences literally does nothing but hurt those just trying to exist. And it's never okay to hurt others on purpose. 

As someone who's super open-minded in the way that I am, it's honestly difficult for me to gatekeep, but here's what I have heard that might help keep you from gatekeeping: 

Not everything is about you. You may not get/need it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist/someone needs it. 

The existence of something/someone doesn't mean less for someone else who isn't a part of that group.

If it isn't hurting anyone, it's not a problem. (There may be struggles or a change that needs to be made, but that doesn't mean it's necessarily hurting someone/a group.)

Everyone is capable of change, and that's okay.

Everyone makes mistakes, and that's okay. 

Everyone is allowed their own opinions, and that's okay.

There are no rules for how being exist. 

2) The So-Called Evil Alter(s) 

We've all seen those characters in media that have that one side/alter who is slapped with the label of being evil. A perfect example is the Goblin from Spider-Man, the Beast from Glass, and literally any media you consume that has DID villainized. When writing Plurality, it is your job to avoid hurtful and harmful stereotypes such as the "Evil Alter." 

The reason it's important to avoid falling into the stereotype is simple: It's overused, demonizes, stigmatizes, villainizes, and continues to push forth the idea that systems are to be feared. Systems are real and valid, and creating fear around their experiences and existence causes real-life problems. If you're choosing to write about marginalized groups (just like drawing, it should be something you practice/incorporate often), you must always keep this in mind. What you write affects real beings. Write responsibly. 

The best way to flick a middle finger to the evil stereotype is by ensuring that a headmate is well-rounded, an actual individual instead of a plot device or just a flat character. It is okay to have characters who may fall into stereotypes, be a persecutor, or do bad things because they're a being; they're capable of such things. But you have to make sure to get across to the audience that they are not evil. You can do this by not having a headmate be the antagonist in the story or filling the common roles a villain does in most stories. 

If you're incapable or aren't sure you can write a character like that, avoid writing headmates who can fall into being a villain in your story. If you're sharing your work publically, it's best not to incorporate it at all, but I highly recommend practicing privately on how to write demonized headmates in a stigma-free light in your own time and pace. You're going to fail at first; what matters is that you're trying. 

3) Writing Only "Evil" or Antagonists as Pural 

Similar to what I said above, even if you don't follow the "Evil Alter" villainization of a headmate, it's important to always pay attention if all or most of your system characters are villains/antagonists in your story. While having a diverse set of characters with various roles in a story is fine, it's important to ensure that you're not accidentally falling into the thin line of villainizing characters. 

The best way to avoid this is to make sure you have an equal balance of plural characters spanning from "good" to "many shades of grey" to "bad." And to not use demonizing characteristics with "bad" characters but instead in good or a certain grey area. This will challenge you to break norms and think outside the box, depending on your character. But in the end, if you don't feel capable, practice! Learn! As long as you're trying, that's what matters!

4) Final Fusion

Many singlets don't know this, so I won't just link what Final Fusion is but define it. In the simplest explanation I can give, Final Fusion is when a system becomes a singlet. 

I would avoid this in writing at all costs. The point of writing Systems isn't to make them singlet, and it's like learning how to write black characters to make them white. You just don't do that. You write systems to write about system experiences/have a genuinely diverse cast of characters, not to make their existence in stories an end goal to become one single being in a body. 

If you're singlet, don't ever write about Final Fusion. In my opinion, it isn't your place to write about that; leave that to systems as it is a touchy subject and not one singlets should handle. 

TL;DR: When writing about Plurality, avoid gatekeeping Plural experiences/groups, falling into evil stereotypes, making all your plural characters antagonists, and writing anything on Final Fusion.

General Writing Rules

How you write systems depends on what system you decide to write about, the headmates within that system, and any other characteristics you choose to add to the body or the headmates themselves will influence how you actually write things out. An example is how I write my Shard System (fic here). 

First, my Shard System has polyconsciousness and can communicate internally, though it changes depending on who's talking and fronting. This leaves me having to find a format for the audience to know what is internal and external and who is specifically talking. I wrote that lil fic I shared while sleep-deprived, so it isn't the prettiest-looking format, but it's a format nonetheless, and that helps readers! I recommend having a key or using consistent formatting so readers understand what is happening. 

Secondly, my Shard System dissociates when switching and co-fronting, so I describe the experience as I would an emotion or when a character is using their powers. When you have systems that have characteristics that affect the body and their perception when fronting or in the inner world, it's good to describe it like you would anything else! And if there's something significant about it or it changes depending on what perspective you're writing from, that's just as important as writing feelings or background characteristics! 

Thirdly, systems have characteristics where they have a quirk where they'll write/type/speak in that quirk. For example, my Shard System has a few quirks where Red types in bold (hence why I wrote his dialogue in bold) and has a Spanish accent and a deep voice when fronting and in the inner world. Savage speaks in broken English, so it'll be very prominent when he communicates. Considering the little details about your headmates when writing them in your stories is never bad! Especially when it's a common quirk in systems to have! 

Finishing Thoughts

There is nothing wrong with wanting to learn how to write Plurality or any other marginalized and demonized experience. You're going to make mistakes, and you're going to be a fool the first time you write Plural characters, and hey, it's all a part of the learning process! What matters is that you try and remember to check in to ensure you're not excluding or creating real-life problems in your writing. 

This long-ass answer to your ask or anyone wanting to write about Plurality isn't meant to scare you off or overwhelm you; it's to simply inform you how you can write Plurality to the best of your ability. And like learning to do anything, it takes time and patience. Not everything will make sense right away, and it's expected that your first emotions learning about something you don't understand are fear, anger, and denial. But to grow as a person and as a writer is to tackle those feelings and remember why you're writing these experiences. 

I write about plural characters and experiences because I love Plurality. I love it so much that I just want to express my love through my favorite characters and spend my time learning and consuming content on it. I write plural characters because I care so deeply for the plural community. I am passionate about giving them media and content they can enjoy, where they feel safe, heard, and understood. I write plural characters to destroy the idea that Plurality is something to fear and hide away when systems should take pride and be able to be wholeheartedly themselves. I write plural characters because I choose to. Because I want to. 

Having a reason, no matter how "dumb" or "profound," for wanting to write Plurality is valid and good as long as it doesn't hurt real-life beings. And I am more than ecstatic to hear that you and others may want to write plural characters, even if you're singlet or not! 

It isn't that hard to write once you get the hang of it and the moment you get the basic understanding of the system experiences you're trying to write. But, I want you to know that no matter how hard it gets, how challenging and maybe even overwhelming it may be, your best is enough, and your trying is enough. That doesn't mean you need to stop learning because you're always going to keep learning things until you die, but just know that your best is enough and will always be enough. 

Thank you so much for reaching out, and I hope this long-ass post helped you or you&! I tried my best to cover everything, but if anyone else has anything more to add, feel free! 

Thank you so much for the ask! <3

[pogues-writings]

c’mon, pogue, show us what you’re made of

*i don’t own the gif, all creds to @poguesofobx​​*

© All rights reserved to pogues-writings. There is no copying or modifying of writing. Translating and reposting work is prohibited. Please inform me if you see anything similar to my work. 

(For real, though, please don’t copy, rewrite, or steal my work. A lot of time and effort has been put into creating it. It sucks as a writer to work so hard on something for it to be copied so easily (especially for free). If you do, I will find it, and it will be reported. I want my stories on my blog, and my blog only.)

☼ I will write for any of the Outer Banks characters, including smut. I, however, don’t write at all for the Outer Banks cast, nor do I write character pairings (ie JJ and Kie, Rafe and Kie, John B and Sarah, Pope and Cleo).

☼ I’m a senior creative writing major and it literally pains me to write character x reader now. That’s what we call growth, folks. All of my fics will be character x OC.

Speaking of OC’s here’s a link to ones I use for fics (this will update as I write; there may be multiple OC’s for some canon characters depending on the fic’s arc).

Danny Hemmingway | JJ Maybank

☼ I prioritize JJ and Rafe requests because they’re my favorite characters.

☼ If you’re not a fan of swearing, adult content, or triggering topics, my blog probably isn’t for you. Learn more about that here!

I put warnings on the top of all of my works. They are always in bold italics. Please look for them and read them! These are seriously important. The last thing I want is to trigger anyone—much of my work is heavy.

☼ I update my masterlist each time I post a new story.

☼ My requests are always open, so if you want to send me an original idea or prompt, please do so! Your requests are always appreciated and taken into consideration, however, I don’t write all requests. (Sorry— that would take too damn long; I’m a workin’ woman) I write the requests I truly love the concept behind and feel like I could do justice.

If something is requested or not, please, please, please be patient with me. Good things take time.

☼ I love many, many different things. If you have another fandom you'd like me to write for, send a request and I'll get back to you!

☼ Just a little fun fact: I try to title all of my fics are after songs!

masterlist navigation:

✦ - angst

⁂ - fluff

❥ - smut

☽ - requested

⇉ - most popular

✽ - personal favorite

——————————————————

OC | Danny Hemmingway

Works in progress! Send in requests!

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about me

dni (just in case you missed it the first time)

ask box

[chaos-monkeyy]

I've been wanting to get back into short-fic writing practice because it is not my strong suit. Do you have any short-fic recs that you thought were really good not just as a story, but as a short fic? Maybe with a reason why?

AND!

Please let at least one of them be by you. 💙🙏

Sorry for the homework assignment, feel free to pretend it doesn't exist 😂💙

Oh boy, fun homework!! 🤩🤓

Okay so I thought about this pretty much all afternoon and evening 😂 And I've picked a few that I think are good examples of different types of short fic, as well as being good fic. And also came up with silly category names because I could.

(I'm afraid some of these will be a little out of your fandom wheelhouse, but I do think they're good examples so I hope that's alright 🙈)

The wanky drabble

I learned this one from @revakah, who's still the master of 100-word-witchcraft in my books. Playing with formatting and throwing any concept of sentence structure out the window in favour of pure unadulterated vibes; and somehow winding up with a story that spans way, way more time and feelings than it should be able to. Two of Rev's I particularly like for that:

Blank Space (100 words - Sylvie & Mobius - Loki Series - Sads ahoy)

Grounded (100 words - Kaladin/Dalinar - the Stormlight Archive - Fucking Hot ahoy)

That One Scene

This is probably my own favourite and most frequent sort of ficlet / short... where you take the established world/canon and either situate readers with the summary itself, or with like one or two quick lines-- and write literally just that one single scene or idea and nothing. else. Leave the finer details of exactly how they got there and what happens after up to the reader's imagination. If those are even relevant, they might not be 😂 I love these cause they're so flexible-- they can be introspective, they can be kind of a character study or a What If, they can leave people pondering implications and going ..oh, they can be a quick n dirty little smut scene or powerfully moving angst or pure happy-making fluff; or any combination of the above.

A universe all its own by @jewelliffer (647 words - Thranto - So Fluffy I'm gonna Die)

Unending by saisei (405 words - SGA vegas!Sheppard/Todd the Wraith - impossible levels of characterization, canon backstory, and post-canon story for that many words)

In time by me (200 words - SGA one-sided Sheppard/Todd the Wraith - I'm just really proud of how creepy and not-quite-human I managed to make this Todd POV one)

Longfic speedrun

For when you have the idea for a long fic but don't actually want to write the whole thing. Instead, take the most important, core bits of key moments over time, and just... don't write the rest. It has a particular feel to it that's kind of hard to describe, but they tend to leave me feeling a little stunned. Because I only read one or two thousand words, but somehow they've beamed a year's or a decade's worth of story time directly into my brain.

The Taste of Him by @draculard (~2.5k - NightThrawn with background/nonromantic Thrawn/Palpatine - okay yes this is on the longer side for a short fic BUT in my defense it's incredible and oh yeah OW heartbreaking)

Still there is my attempt at a slowburn speedrun (~1.3k - more SGA - vegas!McShep post canon)

~waits patiently for homework assignment to be graded~

[retrievablememories]

somewhere only we know | doyoung (m)

title: somewhere only we know pairing: elf!doyoung x dryad!reader genre: fantasy, major angst, fluff, smut, royal!au, 1800s!au summary: as the Crown Prince faces increasing pressure to select a wife, he finally falls in love over the course of a summer—charmed by the sounds of nature and a mysterious tree nymph. word count: 32,000+ warnings: major character death, descriptions of death, familial conflict, discrimination/prejudice (both regarding familial lineage and species), classism, physical violence, descriptions of fire, voyeurism (but not in a kink context), strict gender roles/gender stereotypes, sexism/sexist language, some sexual jokes/vulgar language, outdoor sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex (don’t try at home) a/n: this felt like writing a movie, especially towards the end, and i am TIYADDD. i usually actively avoid writing this many characters/plot points because it gets hard to keep things organized, so this fic was a serious test of my abilities lol... there may or may not be an epilogue after this, but that depends on the audience’s (y’all) interest in one

as always, let’s keep in mind this is just fiction and not a judgment of or truly accurate representation of the personalities of any of the idols depicted in this story. 

@constipation08​ thank you for the request and fic idea, this has been a wild ass ride lmao 😭

“Why do we have to leave the kingdom?! I was doing just fine right here!”

“Because our parents say we have to,” Mark replies nonchalantly, already growing weary of hearing Donghyuck’s griping about the King and Queen’s decision. The younger male throws himself onto his bed beside Mark, sighing loudly the entire time.

Donghyuck turns over on his back to give Mark a look. “But why do we need to leave to take gentlemen’s lessons? None of us here need to learn how to be gentlemen, we already are. At least, I am.”

“Your behavior is saying otherwise,” Doyoung counters, watching the two younger men from the bedroom’s doorway. “Perhaps it won’t be that bad. You’ll get to get away from the kingdom for a few months. It’s almost like a vacation.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “No vacation I’ve ever heard of involves work.”

“I don’t know, I’m a bit interested,” Mark says. “Everyone says Eupheme has the best gentlemen’s tutors in the country, so maybe it’ll be—”

“Ugh, don’t say fun.” Donghyuck grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and smacks Mark across the face with it, causing the other man to yelp in surprise and topple over. They soon become embroiled in a battle of who can land the most hits with their respective pillows, which eventually evolves into them wrestling each other.

“See, this is why mother and father say you all need etiquette lessons. It’s like everything you learned as kids evaporated as soon as you hit puberty.” Doyoung shakes his head, but he also can’t help but laugh a little at their continual bickering. “You’ll spend a few months in the company of the other princes, too, so it’s not all bad. I really don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Maybe because he won’t get to see Nayeon while he’s gone,” Mark says this while Donghyuck has him in a headlock, and the younger boy’s grip tightens around his neck.

“Shut up, Mark!”

Doyoung snorts. “Oh, how could I forget?” Nayeon was the daughter of a local lawmaker and someone who Donghyuck had obviously fancied for a while. Nayeon seemed to enjoy his company well enough, and she was undoubtedly within a proper social standing that everyone approved of, should marriage ever come into question. And, perhaps most importantly, she was also of elven blood. Nevertheless, there was talk that her heart had already been captured by another. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe she’ll realize she really is in love with you while you’re gone.”

“Or she’ll enjoy the sweet silence she gets without hearing Donghyuck chatting her ear off at every available moment.” This comment from Mark sends them into another bout of rolling around on the bed, trying to land hits on each other.

“I pity your future wife,” Donghyuck huffs as Mark tries to overtake him. “She’ll get the title of princess in exchange for what? A husband who will be too frightened to peel the sheets back on her first night!”

Doyoung rolls his eyes when he sees the fighting clearly isn’t coming to an end any time soon. Despite that, he certainly isn’t inclined to try to break them up; the last time he got in the middle of one of their scuffles, he ended up with an accidental black eye. The thought of trying to explain to the public what had happened was too embarrassing for words, and he was resigned to stay confined to the castle as it healed.

It would not surprise him if that incident were a part of the equation that finally convinced their parents to send them away for additional royal training. He, for one, isn’t complaining about it.

Doyoung waves his hand and decides to take his leave, quickly tiring of their theatrics. “You two have fun, then. Try not to kill each other; we’re expected to arrive in Eupheme all in one piece.”

They spend the next few days making the necessary preparations to leave for Eupheme—picking out luggage, selecting which outfits to bring, and deciding which guards will accompany them. Their parents have already arranged for them to stay with the King and Queen of Eupheme, who they are long-time friends of, and their three sons, Jeno, Jaemin, and Jisung. Once there, Jungwoo, Mark, Donghyuck, and Sicheng will receive gentlemen’s tutoring alongside the younger three men.

Though they have been to Eupheme and the King and Queen’s home in the past as adolescents, their destination this time is a little different, with a new royal castle only just coming to completion a few years back. The King of Eupheme, always one to pull out all the stops with luxury and extravagance, had seen it fit to build a bigger and more attractive castle in the very center of the kingdom. Their old mansion would go to the oldest son and Crown Prince, Jeno, whenever he married.

The King and Queen of Ceres decide to appoint Doyoung as a chaperone for the boys because of his seniority as Crown Prince—and also because he’s the only older brother they’ll even attempt to listen to. Yuta and Jaehyun stay behind to handle other royal affairs and ambassadorial duties in Doyoung’s place. Some members of the Royal Court are far from thrilled by Doyoung’s departure and Yuta’s taking over a portion of his responsibilities in his absence, but they also know better than to air their grievances out in the open where any of the family could hear.

Yuta is initially not too pleased about being left out of the trip, but he knows there are obligations to attend to in Ceres. He also won’t deny that he relishes being given this role to play, feeling like he has obtained some heightened level of importance within the family for the first time in a long time. He tries not to be so conspicuous about how often he thinks about the position of Crown Prince, and what it might be like if he were only a year older and born of the same mother as his brothers. Yuta tends to think of himself as a master actor in maintaining his unfazed façade concerning his lowered station within the family, with no one the wiser. Well, except for the one he can trust.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, is not nearly so chagrined by having to stay as Yuta is. But of course, leaving would mean having to pause his budding romance with the daughter of the Marquess, so he’s more than willing to stay if tasked to do so.

The day of their departure comes fast. Soon, they’re all standing outside the castle as the servants load the men’s things into several of their stagecoaches. The five of them bid their farewells to their parents and two brothers, if a bit over-exaggeratedly.

“I hope you won’t miss me too much when I’m gone,” Donghyuck says, crowding up to Jaehyun and annoying him with kissy faces.

Jaehyun smiles and rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that will be a problem. Try not to torment our cousins too much.” Even with his joking, he gives the younger boy a hug and pets his hair before letting him go off to bother Yuta.

Doyoung is already there talking with Yuta, placing his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Take care of things while I’m gone, yeah? If there’s anyone around here who can do it, it’s you.”

“Of course, brother. I always honor my duties.” Then Yuta smirks. “Don’t let Jaehyun hear you saying that, though.”

Sicheng isn’t happy about being separated from Yuta for a span of months, but he doesn’t complain in front of the others about it. He simply gives his brother a long hug, sighing into his shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” Yuta insists, trying to get Sicheng to wipe the pout off his face. “Look at the bright side of it. When you come back, you’ll finally have some proper manners.” Yuta gently pinches his ear and Sicheng makes a face at that, though his lips quirk up in a small smile.

“Maybe. For their sake, perhaps these lessons won’t go to complete waste.” Sicheng glances at his other brothers as he says this, and he gives Yuta another nod before walking to one of the stagecoaches.

“Do take care of your brothers,” the Queen says to Doyoung, fixing his collar and patting his shoulders like she often did when he was smaller. Then she sighs. “We have not been parted for such a long time in years. Hurry back, my son…and please remember to be patient with them…you know how they can be.”

Doyoung smiles as she pats his cheek, though he feels a little embarrassed at his mother’s fussing over him. “I promise everything will go well, mother. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Sicheng and Mark take one stagecoach while Doyoung, Donghyuck, and Jungwoo take the other; their guards and servants have another two to themselves. After everyone is loaded in, they wave goodbye to the King and Queen as they ride away from the castle and towards a summer ahead in Eupheme.

In the stagecoaches, it takes a journey of nearly three days to reach Eupheme. By then, everyone is more than ready to get some space away from each other. Their stagecoaches are more finely outfitted than the ones used for public travel by the common folk, but that still doesn’t make them pleasant to keep an extended stay in. There’s nothing quite like being stowed up in one small space with your siblings for days to realize the value of alone time.

 The castle, they find out as they ride along the path leading to it, sits not too far from a nearby village. Beyond that village, an expansive forest stretches out along the land. As to be expected, new property comes with new people and sights.

 The princes had not last visited Eupheme since before the new castle was completed; now, all this newness comes as a welcome surprise. Donghyuck and Jungwoo press their faces up against the stagecoach window to catch glimpses of the village through the trees as they drive past. It’s raining lightly outside, and the waterdrops slide against the windowpanes as they peer out, obscuring their vision slightly.

Doyoung can already see the rapt excitement in their eyes. “Remember we didn’t come here to play in the village all day,” Doyoung tells the others, sighing deeply as he already knows what their plans will be

“Doesn’t mean we won’t, brother,” Jungwoo chuckles, and Donghyuck voices his agreement.

In Sicheng and Mark’s stagecoach, they also look at the scenery with fascination.

“It’s quite different from their old home,” Sicheng remarks. “But prettier.”

Mark presses his palm against the stagecoach’s interior wall, beside the windowpane, and focuses his energy to create a small portal to the outside. He sticks his hand through it to feel the raindrops pattering against his fingers; the air outside is humid and sticky.

“Showboat. You could’ve just opened the window,” Sicheng points out, though he smirks in amusement.

Their cousins’ castle is a grand thing. It’s similar to their own in many ways, but one thing the Euphemian royals have always prided themselves on is their outstanding landscaping. Their front lawn, backyard, and the surrounding fields create a vast world of their own, filled with intricately-shaped hedges, rare flowers, unique stone statues, and even a winding maze of greenery leading to the castle’s front entrance. It was more than enough land for anyone to get lost in for days. One could spend a week just traversing their entire property alone—forget the village and forest.

As their entourage of stagecoaches makes its way through the path to the mansion, the men talk more excitedly with each other, planning the things they hope to do once they get settled in. The King and Queen of Eupheme and their three sons are already standing in front of the castle steps ready to greet them once they arrive.

“Doyoung!” Jeno calls out the prince’s name as soon as he sees his head pop out of the window, and Doyoung waves excitedly to the younger man as he and the others get out.

Once all five men exit the carriage, they bow to the King and Queen.

“It is so good to see you all again after such a long time,” the Queen says, clasping her hands together with a warm smile.

“Surely, you’ve all grown into fine young men.” The King is a big, intimidating man, even for someone of his rank, and the current smile he wears does little to take away from that fact, but the five men return the gesture all the same.

The men get reacquainted with their cousins as the servants unload their things from the stagecoaches.

“You’ve grown up so much. Let me look at you,” Doyoung says, fawning over Jeno as the other men look on and laugh.

“You act worse than a parent,” Jungwoo says, giggling at Jeno’s blushing face.

Sicheng nods his agreement, looking at the two with an embarrassed expression. “Quite obviously—why do you think they picked him to be our chaperone?”

“Come on, we’ll give you a tour around the castle,” Jisung says, excitedly pulling Mark and Donghyuck along with him as he heads for the castle steps.

“I think we’ll be walking around for an entire day.” Donghyuck snickers. “It’s huge.”

Jisung grins, a knowing glance in his eyes. “An entire day? Oh, cousin, that’s just the east wing.”

Unsurprisingly, the group of brothers aren’t immediately unleashed to go exploring in the village.

Their tutors have them settle into a couple weeks of lessons before adding unsupervised free time to their schedules for them to do whatever they please with. It’s not a lot at first—only 30 minutes at a time—but Doyoung knows that’s more than enough time for them to get into trouble, if they so wish.

The men were hardly impressed with being treated like reckless children and would take whatever chance they could to escape the tutors’ watchful eyes, which meant staying on their best behavior and trying to adhere to all their professors’ instructions until they were granted more leniency.

By that point, their instructors were almost being driven crazy by the men’s frequent and not-so-subtle side conversations about what they’d see in the village once they finally got there.

“Alright, here is your first free break of the day. Go on, make use of it. I say, I’ve never seen a bunch of royals so infatuated with what the commoners are doing,” their music tutor exclaims, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t you much rather stay in here where things are clean and predictable and safe—and most importantly, clean?”

“Hmm, no. Clean’s boring!” Donghyuck counters, and he’s the first one to take off and leave the room once he’s gathered all his things. The rest of the men soon trail out of the room after him, with Doyoung heading up the rear. By their parents’ request, he usually sits in on their lessons to make sure they follow their tutors’ orders, or to help them out with whatever questions they have if the teacher is preoccupied with someone else.

“Are you all going to accompany us?” Donghyuck asks Jeno after the older man catches up to him in the hallway.

Jeno gives him a suspicious look. “Accompany you where?”

Donghyuck lowers his voice to prevent Doyoung from overhearing their conversation. “We’re going to visit the village today, see the lay of the land. There’s no time to waste, so if you want to come…”

Jeno shakes his head, a slightly unimpressed look coloring his features. “You go on ahead. If you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it a thousand times before.”

Donghyuck looks at him skeptically, then claps a hand on his back. “Suit yourself!”

It doesn’t take long for Donghyuck to convince Sicheng, Jungwoo, and Mark to use their free time to go to the village with him, and they decide to take the horses to shorten the time it’ll take to get there. They bypass their rooms and head straight outside for the stable, leaving their books and writing utensils sitting in a heap in a corner to avoid wasting any precious time with putting their things away.

While they’re out in the stable, Donghyuck fawns endlessly over the horses. He’s particularly drawn to an all-black one with a shiny coat and an impossibly long mane. Her expressions are almost elven-like, her eyes showing a certain eerie understanding of the words he speaks to her. A large golden label on her stall reads Lily in black curly lettering.

“She’s amazing,” Donghyuck says, gently stroking her muzzle as she peers at him with her huge black eyes. Mark and Jungwoo come over to take a look at the mare, and Mark agrees to Donghyuck’s observation, grinning softly as he brushes his fingers along Lily’s soft coat. Their moment is suddenly disturbed, however, by a voice coming from the stable entrance. The three of them jump a little in surprise.

“Where are you all going?” It’s Doyoung, of course. Donghyuck scoffs and rolls his eyes, trying to ignore his older brother as he keeps petting the horse.

“We’re going out,” Sicheng says, laughing from the other side of the stable as he leads one of the horses out of its stall.

“Obviously, but where?” Doyoung walks further into the stable with the other boys, though he screws up his face at the strong smell of horse and hay. Much like the others, riding horses is an activity he quite fancies, but he doesn’t enjoy the smell of it.

“Leave us for once, brother, please! If you come with us, it’s just going to spoil the mood. Between the tutors and the King and Queen, we have enough overbearing people breathing down our necks.” Mark shushes Donghyuck at that, as if he half expects the King and Queen themselves to come out from the shadows and reprimand them.

Doyoung crosses his arms. “I have no intentions of stopping you, but I’m also not going to let you return here with a herd of angry townspeople on your tail if you do something to set them off.”

“Yes, which means you’ll stop us from doing anything fun,” Sicheng retorts, nearly pouting. He’s used his sad eyes and natural charm on his older brothers to get his way in many situations in the past, but Doyoung isn’t budging this time.

“Doyoung is going to come regardless, can the rest of you just bear with it so we can leave?” Jungwoo says impatiently, leading one of the other horses out and fixing its saddle on. “We don’t have all day to argue.”

“Fine.” Sicheng and Donghyuck aren’t thrilled about the prospect of having their older brother tag along to thwart any mischievous plans they might’ve had. They don’t truly hate it, though; they rarely miss an opportunity to try to get on his nerves if they can, and now is no exception.

After they’ve all picked a steed, they mount their horses and take off to leave the castle.

On the horses, it takes only 5 or 6 minutes to reach the village rather than the 20 minutes they’d spend walking there. When they get there, they are greeted by a sign that reads Arthenia Village. It shows obvious signs of wear, but it looks to have been recently covered with a fresh coat of green paint.

From the first glance, it’s easy to tell that the small town mostly consists of supernatural beings—though they could figure that from the atmosphere alone. The air is thick with magic, and it dances across their skin like static. Fairies and orcs and the occasional elf like themselves walk, ride, or fly through the streets, plus many more beings beyond those. Even a small portion of humans live there, though they blend in almost seamlessly with the others—except for their lack of a magical aura.

Some townspeople stop to watch the men enter the village as they trot down the cobbled streets on their horses, all dressed up in their fineries. In the men’s own eyes, their outfits are quite average for a day of schooling, but the villagers rarely see such luxury in their daily lives.

The townspeople are not really used to interacting with royalty, due to the castle’s inhabitants mostly keeping to their own circles of nobility—and seeing everyone else as beneath them, even if they don’t immediately concede to it. Some villagers are in awe of their entrance, while others look on with expressions of contempt. Donghyuck doesn’t mind the glares, though, and waves excitedly to anyone who’ll wave back.

“I wonder about you sometimes,” Mark says to the younger man, and he narrowly avoids Donghyuck trying to reach out and swipe him off his horse.

They eventually dismount the horses and tie them up at a nearby stall so they can walk around the Market Square. There’s little danger of anyone trying to make off with one of the animals; their saddles decorated with the royal colors and insignia would immediately incriminate any person who’d attempt it. And in any case, a punishment of being sent to the guillotine is more than enough to keep potential thieves away.

Arthenia may be small, but it’s still filled with a distinct culture and a sense of hominess, with people selling their homemade wares and groups of little kids playing and weaving through the streets. A group of girls gathered at a small jewelry shop whisper animatedly among themselves as they watch the men walk by, and they freeze when Doyoung meets their eyes. He waves to them with a warm smile on his face, just as he was taught to do, and they wave back enthusiastically, their free hands covering their mouths to disguise their giggles.

Jungwoo quickly becomes entangled in a game of Horseshoes with a group of adolescents who bet he can’t beat them at their own game. And, despite Sicheng’s earlier complaints, he ends up trailing behind Doyoung for most of their trip, unsure how to interact with the villagers except for following his etiquette training and simply smiling politely at them. If he were in an “I told you so” kind of mood, Doyoung might’ve pointed out the irony of the situation, but he decides to let it be, knowing Sicheng is still trying to adjust.

At the very edge of the village, a small dirt pathway gives way to the same forest they saw on their way to the castle. The expanse of the forest is easier to see when outside of Arthenia itself; it spreads like a thick patch of dark green against the lighter green fields and hills. Up close and personal, though, the forest entrance is thick with foliage, making it hard to see through. The unknown nature of it beckons. Donghyuck catches Mark’s eyes lingering in that direction, and he comes up next to the older man, throwing his arm across his shoulders.

“Is that our next conquest?” he proposes, mischief written across his face. “Want to see what lies there?”

Mark looks back at him, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’m willing if you are.”

A seller at a nearby stall—an elderly orc—overhears their conversation and shakes his head, chuckling as if he’s just heard something utterly ridiculous. “Young men...don’t go in there with bad intentions. The women will drive you out.”

Donghyuck and Mark turn to him with confusion written on their faces. “Women?”

“There are women who live in the trees,” the seller continues. “They protect the trees, protect the forest. Everything there is under their dominion. Before you step foot in there, make sure you’re thinking with your head up top,” he taps a finger against the side of his head, “and not the one between your legs.”

“U-um, that wasn’t—alright.” Mark is openly flustered at being called out, and Donghyuck only laughs, steering Mark away from the stall and back towards the heart of the village.

“Don’t get so discomfited about it, brother. Desires of the flesh are natural for men.” Donghyuck slaps Mark on the chest, and the other coughs a bit at the sudden hit.

“But do you think he said that just to deter us? Or is it true?”

“I’d say there’s only one way to find out.”

Sicheng turns a corner and nearly runs into them, and they both startle at his sudden appearance. “Whatever you’re so eager to find out, it’s not happening today. It’s time to go back already.” He’s no more happy about it than they are, though, rolling his eyes at the prospect of heading back to the mansion when there’s still much to see.

“Already?” Donghyuck questions Sicheng as he starts heading back to the Market Square where their horses are stationed. Sicheng unfolds his pocketwatch and shows him the time, nodding without a word before continuing on. “Ah, shit. We’ll see the forest next time, then. Don’t forget! We’ve got to make haste.”

“Remember what that old man said, though,” Mark says, calling back to Donghyuck as he follows Sicheng. “We aren’t using up all our break time to find lovers or concubines.”

Donghyuck scoffs. “Who do you take me for? No one can find a lover in just 30 minutes, Mark, unless it’s you. Then you’d only need 5 minutes at most.” Then he takes off through the streets as Mark chases after him, threatening to kick his ass once he lays his hands on him.

It’s another week before they can make it out to the village—and therefore, the forest—again, but once the time rolls around, Donghyuck is once again the first out of the castle with Mark on his tail. Jungwoo and Sicheng decide to tag along too, along with Doyoung, which none of them are particularly surprised about.

The villagers’ responses are less awe-struck this time, though some of them still express some surprise at seeing the men come to their little town two weeks in a row. Many of them give friendly waves, though others look on with skepticism as they see the men heading for the woods. They pass by the same elderly orc from last week, who gives them a knowing look; Mark shoots him a nervous smile in return.

Entering the woods on horses requires them to duck their heads a bit to avoid the overhanging foliage threatening to poke them in the eyes or get tangled in their hair. A few of them gripe about this, but they quickly grow captivated with interest as they journey deeper into the terrain and survey the woods.

“This place is nice,” Jungwoo comments. His eyes dart to and fro, though, as if he expects one of the aforementioned women to come out of nowhere and sternly rebuke them for entering their forest abode.

“I can’t wait to see what kind of beautiful women live in this forest,” Donghyuck announces.

“Don’t be so eager, I’m positive none of them would be interested in a kid,” Sicheng scoffs. No sooner do the words leave Sicheng’s lips do a pair of pinecones come falling out of a tall pine tree just a ways above their heads. One only narrowly misses Sicheng, but the other catches Donghyuck on the shoulder.

“Ow! Did you see that?” He grabs his shoulder as if it’s injured and whips his head to look up at the pine’s towering trunk, but there’s no sign of anything other than a few unsuspecting birds.

Doyoung shakes his head. “I wouldn’t say anything else foolish if I were you, brother. Seems like the forest already has something against you.” He laughs to himself, steering his horse away from the others to explore more of the woods.

“It’s not the forest, it’s the women that stall vendor was talking about,” Donghyuck insists, looking over his shoulder for any more falling objects.

“Sure. Next, you will tell us you’re no longer an elf.” Sicheng is less convinced by the presence of the dryads than the other men, but he’s along for the ride anyway. He will at least get to see what all the fuss is about, and even if it’s not true, he’ll have some time away from the castle. Although the King and Queen are as dutifully welcoming as they should be, he can’t shake the feeling of the King’s judgment brewing just underneath the surface. It’s like his aura intentionally closes itself off to the younger man, too haughty and refined to be in the presence of a concubine’s son.

“Let’s just keep on and see what we come across,” Mark says, steering his horse around a fallen log as he traverses further ahead.

Doyoung catches sight of a large oak tree just a little ways off. It doesn’t look much different from the other trees around, save for a hollow hole in its front, but he’s intrigued by it and decides to look more closely. Once he gets over to it, he climbs off his horse and walks up to its large trunk, carefully maneuvering around the thick roots beneath his feet.

Cautiously peeking into the hollow, he sees a nest, but there are no current occupants. He presses one hand against the trunk and feels the grooves and ridges of its texture underneath his palm. It feels old and powerful, and he guesses it must’ve been here for a long time already.

Doyoung hears rustling a few feet above him from the branches, and a few leaves drift down, brushing his face. He expects to see some bird or squirrel when he looks up, maybe the owner of the nest come back to object to his snooping around, but he’s shocked at the sight of a woman.

Doyoung only catches a glimpse of you, for when you notice him looking at you, you gasp and dart further up into the tree’s branches, causing more leaves to fall on the way. Doyoung shields his eyes from them as they come cascading around him, but he fails to get another look. It’s like the tree has enveloped you entirely, hiding you from view.

“That was odd,” he says aloud. So the seller’s words were true after all. He lingers for a while longer, hoping to maybe stay long enough to see you again, but you’ve disappeared. He’s a bit reluctant to leave, but it’s apparent you’re not going to reappear while he’s still around, so he leads his horse away by its reins and looks for the others.

“I saw something,” he says as soon as he spots Donghyuck. “Or someone.”

“Seriously?” Donghyuck’s eyes light up. “What did she look like? Was she pretty? Did you get her name?”

“‘Was she pretty?’ Is that all you can think about?” Doyoung sighs. “I didn’t get anything. I barely saw her. She was among the tree branches one minute and gone the next.” Donghyuck slumps a bit at that, but he’s still determined to see one of the forest’s female inhabitants for himself.

“Hmmm…no matter. There’s many more chances where that came from. We can always return later and see who shows up.”

Their conversation is cut short by a nearby shout from Mark, who’s loudly complaining about his head. Apparently he’s been struck by something much messier than a pinecone—a robin’s egg. “Ugh. What have you fools gotten into?!” Donghyuck calls out, spurring on his horse.

Doyoung mounts his own horse and follows the younger man in search of their brothers. Just before they get out of sight of the oak tree, Doyoung throws a glance backwards, still burning with curiosity. He’s startled to see the same face from earlier staring back at him from the uppermost reaches of the tree, your eyes wide with an inquisitiveness he thinks must mirror his own.

When he blinks, you are gone again.

Even though the other men look at him a bit oddly for it, Doyoung decides to bring a gift the next time they go to the forest.

He doesn’t know much about tree nymphs. He does know, however, that there is a library full of books in the castle; many being history and reference books, no doubt. After visiting the library one day after his brothers’ lessons, he manages to scrape up a little information on tree nymphs—or dryads, as they’re also called—even though he isn’t entirely sure what he’s looking for.

His research tells him the tree nymphs are friends of the gods and goddesses, and history shows that the higher beings have always liked—even demanded for—gifts. So why wouldn’t the women of the forest be the same way? Maybe if he brings a gift, the women will warm up to their presence and realize they aren’t just a bunch of horny travelers. At the very least, maybe they wouldn’t have any more pinecones and eggs thrown at them.

When the brothers get a chance to go to the forest again, Doyoung carries a couple cinnamon scones and a small, bright clementine from their earlier breakfast in his saddlebag. The chef’s scones are the best he’s ever tasted, and he doesn’t think he could ever go back to eating the ones from their cook back home—not that he’d ever say that out loud, though.

Everyone likes food, right? He figures there’s no way to go wrong with this idea, and even if the girl in the oak tree doesn’t like it, maybe one of the other tree nymphs or woodland creatures can eat it.

You aren’t in sight when he stops by the oak tree again. Donghyuck, who’s accompanying Doyoung on his personal quest, watches as he leaves the food in the small tree hollow, keeping it carefully wrapped in its blue and white handkerchief.

“You think she’ll take it?” Donghyuck asks, keeping his voice low. He doesn’t really want you to hear him talking about you if you’re still around somewhere, which could possibly alert you to their presence and scare you off again. But unbeknownst to him, that’s unlikely to happen; dryads always know when someone enters their forest.

“I wouldn’t reject free food,” Doyoung says, laughing quietly. He steps back once he’s finished with his job and looks towards the branches, as if he expects you to appear right then and accept his offering. That won’t likely happen, but he wouldn’t mind seeing what you look like more closely.

“Well, come on then.” Donghyuck waves his hand. “There’s still more to see. We can double back and see if it worked later.”

They hear rustling among the trees as they guide their horses through one of the forest’s many paths, but they don’t see any signs of the dryads. There’s only the occasional forest creature, such as a racoon or squirrel. Mark, Sicheng, and Jungwoo are farther away in another part of the woods, though the two men can hear them talking faintly, their voices carrying on the wind. Sunlight from the midday sun filters through the leaves, turning the landscape into a speckled show of light and shadow.

When Donghyuck and Doyoung get far enough away from the oak tree, they eventually come across a lake that splits the forest in half. It’s not very wide, but if you tried to jump across it you’d almost certainly land in the water instead of on dry land.

There are signs that sprites have recently been near the lake, or quite possibly live within the forest. The ground is littered with half-eaten berries and chewed-on leaves, but that’s not the only clue; that could be the work of any forest animal. Sprites, however, leave a very distinct tinge of magic in places they’ve visited. It’s akin to walking through a spiderweb, or feeling the air change when you go from the hot outdoors to a cold room. Doyoung almost swears he can hear tiny tinkling laughter next to his ear, though it fades away as soon as he turns around.

Donghyuck is more interested in the lake, though, and guides his horse to walk along the edge of the grass where the water begins. “Do you figure we could go swimming in it?” he calls back to Doyoung.

Doyoung scoffs. “Now?”

“Of course not now! Maybe some other day, when we don’t have 20 other things to do.”

“Maybe. The water seems safe enough…” Doyoung peers into the running waters himself, watching a few twigs and stray leaves float past. There aren’t any apparent dangers or concerns, and the water’s shallow enough where you can see the bottom of the lake, but appearances aren’t always as they seem. It’s always essential to be wary in magically-charged places like this forest.

They ride through the woods for a while longer, listening to birds cry out from the trees and sing softer chirps that serve as background music. Despite the forest’s inherent mystery, it’s almost calming at this moment, with the steady hum of wildlife around. It’s like time has been suspended and they’ve been enveloped in a dimension separate from their own, even though they can see familiar signs of life prospering all around them. The contradiction of the forest’s calm and unsettling quality is both strange and wonderful to experience.

By the time their half-hour of exploration starts running out, they circle back to the grand oak tree to see what’s become of Doyoung’s offering. He’s actually a bit surprised to see it gone, handkerchief and all, and he gets off his horse to inspect the tree hollow.

“It worked!” Donghyuck exclaims this a little too loudly and a nearby bird takes off. He flinches reflexively, expecting another pinecone to come hurtling at him from the trees, though none do.

“It did,” Doyoung agrees, pressing his fingers against the wood as he looks into the tree hollow. He’s even more pleased than he expected to be, a small grin playing on his lips. “It did.”

Doyoung leaves more gifts over the next few weeks, which ends up in him actually buying things for your merriment. Many of them are cute and inexpensive little trinkets from the Market Square, like smooth blue moonstones and jagged sharp crystals that the vendors swear have been blessed with witches’ magic, though he often still leaves food.

Even with these regular visits, he’s still yet to catch more than a few glimpses at a time of you. Unbeknownst to him and Donghyuck, these sightings, no matter how sparse they are, are largely due to you throwing them a bone and allowing them to perceive you. At any other time, it would be all too easy to just disappear completely and wait for them to leave after depositing their offerings.

They don’t always see you when they come to the tree, but it happens enough to be worth noting.

Despite this inability to get you to stay, Donghyuck still tries his luck with calling out greetings to your retreating form. These words, no matter how friendly they are, are often swallowed up in the rustling of the leaves.

The same thing happens today. Donghyuck spots your feet peeking out from an uppermost branch, not quite concealed by the leaves, and he rushes out the first thing he can think of to say. “Hey, there—” At the sound of his voice, though, you quickly retreat. “Uh, nice tree-climbing skills? Oh, alright, okay…”

“I don’t think she wants to talk right now,” Doyoung remarks, a smirk on his face as he goes to leave his token for today. This time, it’s another food gift; a pair of peaches and a biscuit with jam.

“That’s fine!” Donghyuck tries not to seem embarrassed about his fruitless greetings. “I’ll just keep greeting her until she does feel like answering. It would be rude not to say hello otherwise! Unlike someone else here. Not very princely of you, huh, brother?”

Donghyuck sticks his tongue out at his brother and spurs his horse to gallop off into the trees, feeling the air whip past his cheeks. In the back of his mind, he himself knows why he keeps calling out to you even if he won’t get an answer, though he doesn’t intend on letting Doyoung know why. Some things are better kept to oneself; he’s had to learn that lesson over time.

He eventually ends up on a small hill in the forest, which is surrounded by tall trees and covered in sparse patches of moss. He hears giggling above him from one of the trees, though when he turns his head to look, there’s nothing there.

Still chagrined from the time he got hit with a pinecone, he keeps his head turned skyward, trying to see if he can spot anything among the tree canopy. However, all he sees is green and more green. He’s about to give up and go about his way when an acorn comes zooming down and hits him square in the forehead.

“Hey!” he shouts, rubbing the sore spot on his head. His exclamation reverberates off the tree trunks and bounces back to him. The echo of it almost overtakes the small set of giggles from just in front of him, but his ear catches them. “Whoever you are, come out!”

Donghyuck’s horse whinnies softly but does nothing else to alert him to where the possible culprit might be hiding, and he sighs heavily. He decides to get off the horse to walk around the area, inspecting it more closely as the wind stirs his hair and tickles his ears. The forest is almost eerily silent the entire time; all Donghyuck can hear is the sound of his own breaths and his boots in the grass.

Suddenly, he yells when a mop of black hair falls on top of his head. The shock of it sends him falling to the ground, dirtying his pants. When he gets enough distance between himself and the strange black hair, he realizes it’s one of the tree nymphs. Not you from the oak tree, though, to his slight disappointment. This one hangs upside down from a thick branch as she looks at him, her eyes playful and bright.

“You’re a cute one, aren’t you?” Her voice sounds like windchimes tinkling in the breeze, light and airy. Donghyuck tries to respond, but he finds himself lost for words after finally facing one of the women who have been an enigma this entire time. When she sees he isn’t responding, she says, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Who...where…?” Donghyuck scrambles to his feet, and the girl rights herself on her tree branch, skittering along the length of it to hide partway behind the tree trunk. She doesn’t appear to actually be shy or apprehensive, though. Her grin tells him that this is all part of her game.

“Hmm. Well, when you figure out what you’d like to say, call for me.” The girl disappears completely behind the tree trunk, and Donghyuck darts behind it, expecting to see her still hiding there. However, there’s nothing but air.

“But I don’t know your name?” Donghyuck calls after her, but there’s only his own voice reflected back to him.

“Don’t know whose name?” Mark’s voice makes Donghyuck turn around in surprise, a blush coloring his cheeks. He hadn’t even heard the older man’s horse come trotting up.

“No one,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he walks back to his horse. “You must be hearing things.”

You and three other dryads sit in a circle in a small clearing one night, talking amongst yourselves, eating berries, and gazing at the moon as it shines directly upon your little spot. Cassia lays her head in your lap, her long black hair splaying across your legs. The other two, Peony and Daphne, cuddle close to each other, their legs entangling as they feed each other berries.

You all only come out like this when you’re sure the forest is free of any unwelcome visitors or sudden drop-ins, so you can enjoy each other’s company in peace and talk without prying ears or eyes. And speak of the devil—the subject soon turns to the men who’ve been gallivanting through the forest as of late.

“We can never have any peace,” Cassia says, though her tone is laced with laughter. “If it isn’t one group of thirsty and untouched men, it’s another.”

“That one man always comes around this area, the one with the long hair. Along with the rest of them…all on their horses, making so much noise and chaos,” Peony complains.

“It’s impossible not to notice their presence. I wish they’d just stay wherever they come from; they make far too much noise out here,” Daphne says, shaking her head. “They must scare away every woodland creature within a 20-foot radius.”

You’re quiet and thoughtful as you listen to the other girls’ complaints. Finally, you decide to chime in. “I don’t know. They do seem a bit mannerless at times, but they’re kind of interesting.”

Peony shrugs. “Not surprised you’d say that. The one with the long hair is always looking up your tree and leaving you gifts.”

“She just doesn’t want the stream of admiration to stop,” Cassia giggles.

You sigh. “I don’t think it’s quite that simple, but whatever you say.”

“Everyone in the world likes attention, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Cassia admits, “especially when it’s coming from someone who isn’t half-bad. This batch of men is by far the most attractive we’ve seen in a while.”

“Hmm, if you say so,” Peony says, and her and Daphne giggle to themselves like they’re in on a joke only the two of them know.

“He must think he’ll get in your good graces if he gives you enough presents,” Daphne adds in. “What say you?”

You tilt your head and think. “Get in my good graces? That depends on what he wants.”

“What he wants?” Peony separates herself from Daphne and crawls over to you, mischief shining in her eyes. “And what do you think he wants?” Her grin doesn’t diminish as she waits for your answer. Daphne smiles and laughs and licks berry juice off her hands as she observes you both.

You stare at the other girl for a long moment, not wanting to laugh but cracking a grin anyway. “I couldn’t possibly know! Maybe you should ask him—or ask the younger one you all have been obsessed with.”

Cassia stretches her arms upwards toward the night sky, crossing her fingers over each other. “Nope. He’s just fun to tease.”

“Fun enough for you to reveal yourself to him,” you point out.

“Say what you will,” she responds. “But at some point, you will probably have to talk to the man. Think carefully. You want to make a good impression on your not-so-secret admirer, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” you say nonchalantly, though you are already thinking of what you might say to him the next time he comes around.

Daphne looks to Cassia, then at you. “Well, just remember this. I wouldn’t waste too much of my good time with him if I were you. We all know elves don’t like us.” The mood shifts a bit at this, with the three of you giving each other unsettled looks as a familiar thought drifts in the back of your minds. It is not uncommon for elves to demean other species, nor is it rare for them to use this perceived superiority to take what they want from others.

Cassia pulls up a handful of grass and throws it at the other girl. “Must you spoil the mood? We’re just having a bit of fun. Besides, these elves obviously don’t object to us if they keep hanging around here unprovoked.”

“I’m trying to look out for the best interest of a fellow dryad,” Daphne protests. “Elven men are very seductive…everything you want them to be until they’re not. But, by all means, do as you please.”

“Like Cassia said, it’s just fun.” You keep your voice nonchalant, though you are already rising to your feet to walk back to your tree. “And thank you for the concern…although I’m not certain it’s warranted.”

The other girls let you walk back alone, knowing you need a bit of time to yourself to think. You wonder what the man’s motive could truly be, and what it means for you. The elves of Arthenia have historically been easy to get along with as they don’t share the views of many others in their race. The same can’t always be said for elven people outside of this small area, though.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

One day, Doyoung manages to go out to the forest by himself while his brothers are still busy with their studies.

He plans to leave you something again, maybe hoping to see you fully this time, though he’s also content to just be out in nature and enjoy the scenery if that’s not possible. At least that’s what he tells himself. Fortunately for him, Lady Luck takes his side today.

After getting off his horse, he heads straight for your oak tree with his gift in hand. It’s a small piece of dyed glass that he got from the Market Square, shaped like a maple leaf. It appears to change colors when held up to the light, as if it were a real leaf with the sun shining through its cells.

You’re already sitting on one of the upper branches when he comes to the tree. He stops in his tracks, thinking you might run off again if he comes any closer, but you simply sit and look at him, your knees close to your chest. He thinks about what a precarious position that is to take on a tree branch, but you’re obviously used to keeping your balance up there.

There’s a tense silence. Doyoung’s afraid you might leave, but he’s surprised when you stay put as the seconds tick past, wrapping your arms around your knees and watching him. When he becomes a little more confident that you won’t try to escape, he steps closer, albeit slowly. “Hello,” he says, keeping his voice even and quiet. Like he’s speaking to something vulnerable and scared.

After a few beats of silence, you say, “Hi.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m...Doyoung.”

“Doyoung.” You cock your head, weighing whether you should tell him your name or not, but you eventually do.

“It’s a pretty name,” he says, and he actually means it rather than saying it just to be polite. “Um…” He looks to the glass leaf in his hand, which is cradled in another handkerchief. “I was wondering if I’d ever get to see you in person.”

“I’m always here,” you say.

Doyoung nods and chuckles. “Well...I can’t argue with that.”

“You’re always here, too. With your group of men. Making so much noise that you scare all the creatures in the forest away.”

Doyoung winces. He already knew that they weren’t the quietest mice in the bunch whenever they came to the forest. “I’m...sorry about that. I’ll tell the others to keep it down from now on.”

You nod. “That would be nice. The other girls don’t like the noise.”

“What about you?”

You shrug. “They’re not wrong for being irritated about it.”

“Could this make up for it? At least, for you?” Doyoung pulls away the handkerchief and holds the glass leaf up for you to see. You climb down from your high post to look at it more closely, though you don’t leave the tree entirely; you just balance on one of the lower branches.

“It’s pretty,” you whisper, and Doyoung notices your eyes seem to sparkle a bit more at the sight of the ornament even though your outer demeanor is calm.

“Then I’ll leave it here.” Doyoung tucks it into the small tree hollow where he’s always put the rest of his presents.

“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, and he is surprised to see a slight smile on your face; the first one he’s ever seen from you. He realizes he’s staring at you a little longer than he should and catches himself.

“Ah, y-you’re welcome.”

You nod but don’t say anything more, and Doyoung knows he ought to speak again soon if he doesn’t want to surrender this small opportunity he’s had to talk to you.

“Are there...many of you here?”

“Dryads?”

“Ah, yes...dryads.”

“There are many, yes,” you answer. “Not every tree has a keeper; some are just empty. But many do. We live in our trees.”

“In?” Doyoung realizes this may be referring to something other than just literally living among the branches, which he didn’t think of until now. You nod.

“Maybe it’s a little different from your elven magic.” You glance at his ears and momentarily think of the conversation you had with the other dryads. “But it’s a type of magic all the same.”

“I see…” Doyoung remembers to file that bit of information away so he can tell Donghyuck, who’s been burning to know. The books in the library only provided so many answers, much to their disappointment, with them not having much recorded information on the tree nymph race. Dryads seemed to be a thing of mystery to many, though he could easily guess why.

“You’re not Eupheme-born,” you say abruptly. “Where do you hail from?”

“The kingdom of Ceres,” Doyoung answers. You nod, and he takes this as recognition. “Have you been there before?

You shake your head. “I can’t leave the forest.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“We’re connected to the trees. They keep us alive, and vice versa. If we’re separated over too far of a distance, both will die.”

“That’s grim,” Doyoung says, his eyebrows drawing together. “Don’t you ever want to leave? Go somewhere else? It can’t be happy to be chained to one place forever.”

You raise your eyebrows and laugh, incredulous at his statement. “Chained? The forest is my home. There’s nowhere else I’d ever want to be.”

Doyoung shrugs. “You have a much stronger constitution than me, then. I don’t know that I’d want to be tied to any one place for my entire life.”

You squint your eyes, staring at him carefully. “You’re royalty, aren’t you?” He nods in response. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts. You can come to this forest however you please and have fun, but you’ll have to have a family sooner or later...something more permanent to tie you to this world.” You slip down from your branch, letting your feet touch the ground, and Doyoung steps back a little to give you space. “Men like to roam and be free and sow their wild oats. They’re more than welcome to do that, but I’ll stay here among the trees.”

He stares at you in wonder, your words repeating in his head as you gingerly take his gift out of the hollow. You turn back to him momentarily, giving him a quick parting smile and a nod before skipping off into the trees.

“A letter came!” Jungwoo holds up a cream-colored envelope that sports their family’s familiar crest on a wax seal on the back. It’s a letter from their parents—their first correspondence since the men have left the castle.

“What does it say?” Mark and Donghyuck crowd around him to persuade him into opening the envelope faster. Before Jungwoo can read it, Sicheng plucks it out of his hand and holds it up to the light, making a show of squinting at the inky black handwriting. “Well? Go on!” Donghyuck prods him.

“Hmm...” Sicheng purses his lips and crinkles his brows as if concentrating hard, then gives them all a sly smile. “It says you’re all kicked off the inheritance and I’m becoming the next Crown Prince.”

Doyoung shakes his head and takes the letter from Sicheng as the younger man laughs. The other three boys balk at his attempt at a joke, and Doyoung knows the atmosphere could easily turn awkward if he doesn’t step in now. “Anyway. Let’s see what it really says, I’m sure they must be missing our presence…”

They all stand around Doyoung as he reads the letter out to them, trying to look over his shoulder as if he can’t read fast enough to satisfy their curiosity.

“Dear boys, we hope Eupheme has been finding you well.

Affairs in Ceres have been running as normal in your absence, thankfully, and Yuta and Jaehyun have been handling their new duties well. They also send their regards and hope to see you back soon.

“There is also important news for our Doyoungie. We are considering a potential match for you—the Duke of Ceres’ daughter, with whom you should already be familiar—and plan to set a meeting as soon as you return at summer’s end. We think you will find her very agreeable...” Doyoung’s voice falters a bit.

“Aw, is our indecisive brother finally going to become a married man this year?” Jungwoo slings his arm around Doyoung’s shoulders, and the older man lets out a puff of air.

“By the beginning of next year, who wants to bet?” Donghyuck snickers. “Girls naturally love you, it won’t take long for you to charm her. Either way, it’s not like you have very much longer to wait.” Mark elbows him in the side and he complains in turn, but not before cuffing Mark over the head.

“...I suppose.” That comment about being a “ladies’ man” might have drawn a laugh or two or even a boast if it were said months ago, but now Doyoung just feels strangely unsettled about it all—the impending courtship and his inevitable marriage. He continues reading the rest of the letter, though if someone were to ask him later, he wouldn’t be able to remember the rest of the words.

“We think you will find her very agreeable and are thrilled for you to get to know each other better. It is nothing to worry yourself over now, but do keep this in mind.

“Boys—remember to keep following all of your tutors’ instructions, and please refrain from making yourselves bothersome. You all are guests, and the King and Queen of Eupheme are being very honorable by hosting you this summer.

“We all send our best regards.”

That night, Doyoung tries his best to fall asleep but is kept awake by the contents of the letter. It’s hard to tear his mind away from what will happen once he returns to Ceres. Though he’d thought he’d be prepared for this, he feels unexpectedly nervous and averse to the idea of yet again courting someone he barely knows for months—and quite possibly marrying them this time around. He doesn’t know how much longer their parents’ patience in allowing him to take his time with finding a partner will last.

It’s proper. It’s tradition. It’s what’s expected of him and his brothers, and he’s been primed for this duty his entire life. Yet, that knowledge does nothing to quell the uncomfortable sensation—dare he call it dread?—creeping upon him.

He watches the clock on the mantle across his bedroom, just above the fireplace. Its little black hands tick by endlessly, counting down the seconds, minutes, hours. When another hour passes and he’s still staring at the clock, Doyoung peels the covers back and decides to leave the castle for a bit. He already knows of a few tucked-away passages he can slip out of that lead to the outside in some way or another, having bribed Jaemin into telling him where they are in case any of his brothers tries to sneak out. How ironic that he’s now using that knowledge for his own gains.

Although he’s not sure if he’ll need it, Doyoung throws on a cloak for good measure before escaping to the outside. He spends a while walking through the castle’s extensive gardens and making sure he’s staying out of sight of the guards, though he feels no sleepier than he did when he first got there. Exasperated, he’s about to turn around and head back for the indoors when the woods beyond Arthenia pop into his mind.

Should he? He’s already outside; what’s the harm in it? Admittedly, the answer is a lot if he’s caught, but he pushes those thoughts away, as his feet are already turning to lead him away from the castle grounds. Doyoung decides he’ll use his glamor for a bit to disguise his face and elven ears once he gets to Arthenia, though there probably won’t be many people awake at this time of night.

Without a horse, the walk to the forest is long. Doyoung doesn’t create any of his light orbs until he’s sure he’s far enough away from the castle to not be spotted by any of the night watch guards. When he thinks it’s safe, he conjures a small ball of burning blue light in his palm, which is enough to illuminate his footsteps.

Doyoung’s boots are wet from the damp grass by the time he reaches the Market Square, and he passes by the rows of houses and outbuildings without a sound. Some lights are still on in some homes, glowing a warm yellow in the dim light of the half moon, while others are pitch black and fade into the surrounding darkness.

The forest looks even more intimidating at night, even with the limited light. He hesitates at the forest entrance for a minute, wondering if it’s safe to go inside. He’s yet to see anything truly dangerous during the daylight hours, but things can be different at night. He didn’t think to possibly bring his bow and arrow from their archery lessons, and there will be no easy escape on horse if something menacing crosses his path. Shaking his head and sighing, he enters anyway and prays to whatever goddess will listen for the best. He’s already walked this far.

Doyoung convinces himself that he’s just going to walk around for a bit, maybe sit at the lake for a while, but after turning in a wide, looping circle, his feet eventually end up leading him to the oak tree. You are already sitting on a low branch when he arrives, as if waiting for his appearance. He notices you’re wearing the moonstone he once left in the tree hollow; somehow it’s been fashioned into a necklace, and he wonders where you got the tools to do that. One of your legs trails off the tree branch you’re perched on, swinging leisurely in the cool night air, and he tries not to stare.

“Y/N,” slips from his lips. “You’re awake at this hour?”

You smirk. “So are you.” Doyoung moves the cloak’s hood away from his face with this free hand, and you study the glowing orb in his other hand. “You’re a Light User...that’s interesting.”

“I guess it could make for a fun trick at a ball,” he says, and tosses the glowing orb up into the air. He does this a few times until he throws it up one last time and it hovers in the air, as if stuck by an invisible force. Doyoung manipulates the orb with his fingers in a way that causes it to split up into a dozen more bright glowing spheres, all suspended in the air. By now, the entire area around the oak tree is lit up from the light emanating from these numerous orbs.

You laugh softly at this display, reaching out to touch the orb nearest to you and discovering that, despite your hand passing through it, the air still feels oddly warm in the spot where the light glows. “Very pretty. It’s peculiar to see you at this hour, though. Are you even allowed to be out this late?” you ask, your eyes still lingering on the orb.

“No, but…” Doyoung trails off, unsure if he wants to revive that concern. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You finally look back at him, and your face creases slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Doyoung says, and he doesn’t know, really. Getting married was always a part of the plan, as royalty. So why is he doubting it now? Maybe he knows more about why he’s feeling this way than he’ll admit to, but there are things he’s still not even sure of himself at the moment.

You decide not to press the matter for now, especially after seeing his conflicted face. “You don’t have your horse. Was it a long walk?”

He nods and laughs a little, thinking maybe it was a bit ridiculous to walk all the way here in the middle of the night. He still has to walk all the way back, which isn’t an appealing thought. “Nothing like a bit of exercise to tire you out, I guess. Hopefully I’ll sleep better after.”

“You sound like a troubled sleeper. I eat jasmine petals if I have trouble sleeping. You know, there’s a bush of them around here.” It’s an offer for him to partake, if he wants to.

“My mom likes jasmine tea,” Doyoung says, grinning slightly. “Do you often have trouble falling asleep? I would think it would be easier being surrounded by nature like this.”

You slide off the lower branch and land on the grass with a soft thump. “Not always…but I’d rather have an easy remedy than be left without one when I needed it.” Then you move to follow a dirt path leading away from the tree, but not before turning back to look at Doyoung. “Come on, then. I’ll show you the bush.”

Once again, he hesitates like he did just before entering the forest. “Is...it safe?”

You squint at him. “Safe?”

“I mean…there must be other creatures in this forest besides the agreeable woodland variety.”

“Yes…but they mostly live on the far outskirts. And either way, none of the other inhabitants will hurt a dryad. We’re the forest’s keepers. So you’ll be safe if you’re with me.”

Doyoung decides to take your word for it and follows you along the path, his blue orbs trailing after him. He sends some further ahead to light the narrow path so you both can see better, though you already know where the bush is by heart.

Soon, you’re both standing in front of the aforementioned bush, which is laden with white jasmine blooms. They seem to shine unnaturally brightly under the illumination of the blue orbs.

“Take some,” you say, carefully plucking one of the flowers from the bush. You hold it up to his nose so he can smell it, and he does so. The scent envelops him like a warm hug, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s already making him feel better. When you hold the flower out to him, he takes it gingerly. He doesn’t fail to notice the soft blossom’s texture, or the equal softness of your hand.

“Will your friends be okay with this?” Doyoung asks tentatively, holding the flower in his hand with a certain fragility.

“They will. And if they aren't, it can be our secret.” There are no secrets in this forest, really, but you humor him anyway, wanting to do something nice in return for the gifts he’s given you.

Doyoung nods and takes a couple more of the flowers, their leaves included, for the tea. He tucks them safely in the pocket of his pants.

You smile at him once he’s taken what he wants. “You’re quite gentle,” you remark. Doyoung doesn’t expect to hear that from you, and he looks at you quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

“You just appear to be very...cognizant. Many people who’ve come to the forest before don’t give any thought to disturbing the natural balance of things and taking what they want. Not the villagers, but others.”

“I see,” Doyoung nods, feeling his face grow warm. He’s never had that particular attribute associated with him before. Gentle. Men are meant to be strong and brave and fearless; gentleness is for the fairer sex. He doesn’t dislike it, though. Quite the opposite, in fact.

You nod in return. “Well, it’s getting a bit late...later than it already is, anyway. I don’t know how things at your castle work, but you may want to be getting back before someone notices you’re gone. The sun will be rising soon enough.”

Doyoung smiles slightly. “You’re quite right.”

“Would you like me to walk back with you? To keep you safe, you know.” You giggle at this. “I will only go as far as the edge of the forest. But you should be alright beyond that point.”

“That’s fine with me.” Doyoung can’t help but feel a little embarrassed about being on the receiving end of such niceties, thinking that this is the kind of thing he’d be doing for you in any other context. He’s not going to pass up the offer of safety, though—and the opportunity to spend a few more minutes in your company.

You talk in low voices on the way back towards the forest’s opening. Mostly about things in the forest, though Doyoung does mention his brothers once or twice. Secretly, you think it’s a bit endearing how much he cares about them even if they get on his nerves.

“We’re here,” you say once you’re in view of the village again.

“Thank you for walking with me. And thank you for the jasmine.” Doyoung pats his pocket.

You grin and wave. “You’re welcome. Sleep well.”

Doyoung starts walking off but suddenly turns back to you as if there’s something more he wants to say. You raise your eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak, but after a second, he only smiles—if a bit nervously—and returns your wave.

You shuffle back into the underbrush a bit, though you stay there and watch him walk away until he’s just a speck amongst the backdrop of the village.

Doyoung makes it back home undetected and climbs back into bed feeling tired enough to sleep now, though he also attributes some of his sleepiness to the pleasant smell of jasmine still clinging to him.

When he slumbers, he dreams of a soft hand touching his, ripe with the scent of jasmine flowers.

The days get progressively hotter as the summer months settle in. With their tutors’ increasing lenience thanks to them taking well to their educational and etiquette lessons, the men get more time to themselves to do whatever they wish. The heat encourages them to spend more time outdoors, whether it’s running through the castle’s expansive yards, shooting arrows at targets or some poor stuffed mannequins, or heading to the village—and subsequently, the forest.

One hot day when they have little responsibilities to tend to, Jungwoo comes up with the brilliant idea to head to the lake for a couple hours, perhaps to cool down from the heat by wading in the water for a while. Sicheng, who has grown a bit disenchanted with the forest, decides to spend the day with their three cousins instead.

However, when the men get within shouting distance of the lake, they realize it’s already occupied.

“Wait!” Mark hisses, pulling on the reins of his horse to make it stop. He holds a finger to his lips, and before any of the men can question him, the sound of shouting, laughter, and water splashing drifts to them on the wind. It appears they aren’t the only ones who’ve had the idea of visiting the lake today.

“Oh?” Donghyuck’s eyes widen, and he and Jungwoo waste no time with getting off their own steeds to head for the riverbank.

“Wait, where the hell are you leaving off to?” Doyoung whisper-shouts, but the two pay him no mind as they creep over to a cluster of bushes near the edge of the lake. The shrubs are big enough to conceal them while still providing a few gaps to peek through, and from their new post they spot the dryads farther down the length of the lake, standing in a shallow portion. The women aren’t near enough to spot the men hiding in the bush, but they are still close enough to see clearly from this distance.

“W-what do you see?” Mark asks, his body poised as if he wants to get off his horse and join them too, but he’s still unsure.

“You’ve got to see it for yourself,” Donghyuck snickers, waving the older man over.

Mark looks to Doyoung. Doyoung gives him an incredulous look, and Mark shoots an apologetic one back before dismounting his horse and going over to join his brothers, squeezing in-between them as they crouch on the ground. He sees a group of six dryads playing in the lake, splashing each other with the water. Two more sit on the bank observing the festivities and talking about something they’re holding in their hands, though Mark can’t quite make out what the small objects are.

Donghyuck has only barely seen you during the times he’s gone with Doyoung to deliver your gifts, though he instantly recognizes you as one of the girls standing in the lake. His breath catches a bit as he watches you with water glistening off your skin and your dress clinging to your body.

“Isn’t this a little distasteful?” Mark mutters, his big eyes darting nervously between his brothers. He shifts uncomfortably, looking like he’s ready to make a run for it if need be. “I mean, watching them through the bushes like this…”

“Probably,” Jungwoo replies. “But as long as they don’t notice us…”

Mark almost shouts at feeling a hand come down on his shoulder, and Donghyuck whips his head around when the same happens to him; however, it’s only Doyoung. “You all need to get up right now,” he hisses lowly. “Haven’t you learned anything over the past few months? This is inappropriate—”

“Why are you standing?! Get down before they—”

Before any of them can realize what’s happening, what must be a gallon of lake water splashes down on all four of their heads. Screams of shock ring through the forest, along with a loud round of laughter—coming from both above them and further down the lake.

Mark, Jungwoo, and Donghyuck get to their feet in a rush, looking and feeling very much embarrassed. They look up toward the treetops and see two dryads sitting in the cleft of some of the sturdier branches, openly giggling at them. Jungwoo notices they aren’t holding buckets or any other objects that could’ve explained how they got the water up there in the first place—just a net woven with leaves, which he is certain they couldn’t have been transporting the water in. And yet… “How did you...?”

The women aren’t interested in answering his question, though, and instead disappear into the branches, leaving nothing but a few stray leaves fallen to the ground.

“I think we probably deserved that,” Mark says, sighing and trying to shake some of the water out of his clothes. The rest of the dryads who are still in the water follow the lead of the other two girls, running out of the lake and scattering through the forest, the echoes of their laughter the only evidence that they were ever there. The only ones who stay are you and the two other tree nymphs sitting on the riverbank. Now that everyone is in full view of each other, Mark belatedly realizes that the “objects” the two girls were holding and cooing over are not objects at all, but small sprites.

You step a little closer to the group of men, and the other two girls watch them intently. “If you wanted to play with us, you could just say so. It would benefit you not to be a bunch of cads about it.” You roll your eyes, though you are somewhat amused by seeing them standing there looking soaked and embarrassed.

“O-of course! I tried to tell them, but you know how it is with these kids...we were just leaving, actually.” Doyoung grips Donghyuck and Jungwoo’s collars like he’s about to drag them off like two misbehaving children, and Donghyuck’s face flushes at being treated like a kid in front of you.

“Are you sure about that?” you ask, and Doyoung raises his eyebrows at your question. You lower your hand into the lake water as if you’re only checking its temperature or letting it flow through your fingers—which is why they’re taken off guard when you draw your hand back and send a big splash of water flying in their direction.

Donghyuck is the first to react, pulling away from Doyoung’s grasp and rushing into the water to splash you back. It’s not long before things quickly evolve into another splash battle, with the other boys wading into the lake to join. The other two girls give skeptical glances at first, but they eventually bid goodbye to their sprite friends and jump into the lake, too.

You all spend what feels like hours running through the water and splashing each other, and your two friends take more quickly to the men than you expected. When the hour for them to leave comes rolling around, you are all soaked but smiling.

“We’re never going to hear the end of it,” Mark says, looking down at their wet clothes. Still, there’s no concealing the bright and amused smile coloring his features.

Your two friends wave to the men and quickly slip off back to their trees, though you linger for a while longer as you watch them climb out of the lake and try to wring out their clothes. Doyoung’s the last one left standing in the water with you, and you turn to him.

“Did the flowers help?” you ask.

“The flow—? Oh, the flowers! They worked just as intended, thank you…” Doyoung blushes a little at the memory. As the others head for their horses, Donghyuck hangs back a little to hear the conversation, wanting to be nosy and wondering what flowers you’re referring to.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you reply, smiling and feeling a little proud that your remedy worked—even though you knew it would. “You know, if you ever need anything else, you can just ask…there are a lot of resourceful things here. It’s like living in an apothecary.”

“Well, I’m interested if he isn’t!” Haechan interjects.

You smirk lightly at him while Doyoung shoots him an irritated look. “Sure. I suppose you’ve taken interest in the forest itself and are no longer just looking for a pretty woman to mess around with?”

Donghyuck flushes at your words, and his smile falters a little at being called out on his earlier intentions. Beside him, Doyoung gloats internally, and he bites his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. “Um…sorry about that.”

“It’s nothing new,” you say matter-of-factly. Then you turn to Doyoung. “Anyways…don’t forget what I said. I’ve gotten used to seeing you around here, so...don’t be a stranger.” You go to leave then, but not before turning back around once more. “And don’t go snooping around. You’re not as stealthy as you think.”

Donghyuck only nods, too embarrassed to respond and unable to justify himself. Both men watch as you walk away, likely back towards your tree. Doyoung turns to the younger man. “Come on, then. Let’s be heading back; maybe our clothes will dry out on the way there.”

After the lake incident, Donghyuck insists on using all his lesson breaks for the next couple of weeks to go with Doyoung whenever he travels to the forest to see you. Donghyuck becomes even more invested in this after knowing that Doyoung had already met you face-to-face after going to the forest by himself. The older man acquiesces, though deep down he’d like to spend more time with you alone—especially with managing to make these visits only once or twice a week. Still, seeing you with his little brother clinging to his side is better than not seeing you at all.

Donghyuck is talkative and lively and inquisitive in your presence, much more willing to learn new things from you than from even the highest-rated tutors in Eupheme. Doyoung finds that particularly ironic, though he doesn’t remark on it. Instead, he listens intently along with Donghyuck as you tell him about the many different kinds of plants within the forest, including what purposes they serve. Doyoung is always reminded of the night you gave him those jasmine flowers, and even now, he stares at your hands as you point out different leaves and subtly wishes he could have any excuse to touch them again.

“These berries are safe to eat, though they look very similar to poisonous Pokeweed berries. That’s why you want to be sure you can tell the difference between them…” You place a few in your palm and hold them out for Donghyuck to see.

Donghyuck—who looks at you like you know everything in the world. You know many things, but not everything; but you’ll continue to let him look at you so admirably, because you find it endearing. He somewhat makes you think of what it might be like to have a younger brother or an amiable male friend. Someone to offer you a different perspective of the world external from the community of women you’ve always lived in.

Could Doyoung be that male friend or curious brother, too? Maybe, but maybe not.

Whenever you turn and speak to Doyoung to keep him included in the conversation, you don’t get that companionable feeling. There’s something much warmer there, something that makes you smile a little wider and causes more interesting facts to pop into your head. You enjoy telling him more about the forest, your home, and you somehow feel like you’d tell him anything he wants to know whenever he looks at you.

You like to see his smile, and the way his eyes grow smaller as he laughs or grins at something you’ve said. You haven’t felt this in a very long time, but if there’s anything to compare it to, it’d be eating warm honey straight from the honeycomb, or breathing in a lungful of jasmine scent before drifting off to sleep.

You don’t dwell on it for too long, simply wanting to experience the emotions as they are rather than spend too much time worrying over what they mean. Nevertheless…your idea of Doyoung is quite different from a friend or brother, indeed.

Although it is a Saturday when Doyoung comes to visit you, the sky is a dark and restless contrast to the day’s liveliness, the clouds looking heavy enough to drag down to Earth. He knows it’ll likely rain soon, which means he should probably stay in the castle and keep dry, but he ventures out to see you anyway. Today is the first time in a while he’s been able to see you without Donghyuck by his side, so he’s taking the opportunity.

You’re not in your tree when he comes. He thinks maybe he might go and look for you, but you’ll know where he is faster than he could find you. It takes a few minutes, but as expected, you appear from the further reaches of the woodland, laughing to yourself and holding a ring of flowers. There’s a similar one on your head made up of purple and white blooms. Doyoung thinks you look something like an angel against the sky’s gloom, with a halo made of blossoms instead of light.

“You’re here now? It’s about to rain,” you say, though your tone shows you’re clearly happy to see him.

He shrugs. “I felt like getting some air...I’m not concerned with a little water, as you probably already know.” I wanted to see you, is what he’d really like to say, but he doesn’t want to jump the gun. You nod in understanding, then hold up the ring of flowers in your hand; it has a few blue ones reminiscent of Doyoung’s light orbs. You offer the flower crown up to him, and he bends so you can place it on his head.

“Now you look like a true prince,” you say, smiling in satisfaction at your masterpiece. “I’ve never seen you with a crown until now. That’s a shame.”

“It is a shame.” Doyoung brings a hand up to feel the petals of one of the flowers between his fingers, and he grins. “I’m quite handsome in one.”

“Oh, my prince!” You start prancing around Doyoung and his horse like a fairy, or maybe like a young maiden at a fancy ball, brushing your hand along the animal’s shiny coat as you do. “It’s such an honor for you to grace our forest with your elegant visage.” You finally stop in front of him with a curtsy, though you have to take a moment to readjust your flower crown when it almost flies off at the sudden stop. “What can I have the pleasure of doing for you today?”

Though he laughs at your acting, he’s also a little awestruck for a moment, taken away by your cuteness and humor. Doyoung realizes there’s an awkward silence settling between you as he’s yet to say anything, and he finally stutters out, “There was something I...w-wanted to tell you.”

“What is it?” You come out of your curtsy and stand straight in front of him, all ears open for whatever he’s about to say.

“Well, it’s…” It’s a lot scarier to say what you want when you’re standing in front of someone and not just practicing in front of the vanity mirror. Doyoung is still piecing the words together when a few drops of rain hit his cheek. He doesn’t think much of it at first, but the droplets become impossible to ignore when they suddenly come hammering down without pretense, as if the gods have given word for the heavens’ floodgates to open.

“Come on!” You start running and Doyoung has no choice but to follow, tugging his horse along with him. It doesn’t take long for you to lead him to a small cave he’s never seen before. To his defense, that’s likely because the opening of it is partially obscured by hanging vines and other vegetation. It’s tall enough for someone of Doyoung’s height to stand in comfortably, which he’s relieved by. He doesn’t consider himself to be one of the more uptight royals like many others he knows, but he also wouldn’t be thrilled by the idea of sitting down in a cold, dirty cave in the rain. Even with your haste, though, you’re both quite wet by now.

Though the cave is spacious enough for you two, it becomes apparent that both of you and the horse won’t fit. Instead, Doyoung guides the animal to take shelter nearby under a willow tree with overhanging branches.

The cave is not very deep at all, only extending a few feet backwards. Perhaps that’s reassuring, at least for Doyoung, because there won’t be any disgruntled animals popping out to protest against their space being invaded.

“Well, that was interesting.” You chuckle as you squeeze water out of the hem of your dress.

“Suppose I can’t say I didn’t see it coming.” Doyoung does the same for the ends of his hair, though he knows it will be a while before it gets acceptably dry.

You laugh and nod. “You said you wanted to tell me something. What was it?” you ask.

Doyoung pauses and looks at you carefully, with rainwater dripping off his chin and darkening his clothes. He looks very serious, which is something you haven’t really seen before. It makes concern rise in your stomach, thinking maybe he has some bad news to deliver.

However, you’ve mistaken the intensity in his eyes for somberness when it’s something else entirely.

“I...love you.”

You regard him with wide eyes, feeling a little taken aback. The rain pours noisily in the background, but you’ve heard him loud and clear.

“I know we have only known each other for a few months,” he continues, “but I love you. I want to be with you.”

You’re surprised that he feels this strongly about you already, but it’s also true that you’ve felt yourself falling for him in the past few months, with his thoughtful gifts and kind smile and soft voice. You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, lips parting minutely. He catches the small movement of your mouth, like he notices everything about you—whether you acknowledged it before or not.

Doyoung takes your hand. Though his palm is wet from the rain, you don’t care about that. “I think about you when I’m not here in the forest…and when I’m overseeing my brothers’ lessons. I dream about you when I sleep at night. Every time I get another gift for you, it’s because I want to see you smile so brightly like that again, because of me. I never want to know a day without you.”

You know Eupheme isn’t his home, that he has to leave someday. You know elves don't generally think kindly of dryads, viewing you all as frivolous and foolish and loose; and even if him and his brothers don’t, there’s no telling what the rest of his family thinks. You also know that even without those two things standing in the way, he’s still a prince who’ll need to be married to a suitable bride at some point. All of those things make you nervous. There are many obstacles before you, but you allow yourself to forget them momentarily as you stand in this cave with him.

You bring Doyoung’s hand up to your lips and kiss his knuckles softly, taking what warmth you can despite his cool skin. You hold his hand tightly, like it might be taken away from you otherwise. “Doyoung…you have charmed me unlike anyone else.”

You bring that hand closer and place it over your racing heart, and he seems a bit hesitant at first because of the proximity to your breast, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he readily responds to the kiss you give him afterwards, drinking in your warmth as a balm for the sudden cool air. For a while, there’s only the sound of rain coming down and your lips connecting with each other’s.

You don’t know how long you kiss each other, but there’s nothing else you can do in this small cave, so you continue without thought to the outside circumstances. Even after your lips part, you huddle close together. You close your eyes in Doyoung’s embrace, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and breathing underneath your ears and basking in the fullness of your own heart.

When the rain finally stops, Doyoung has to leave. The sun will be setting soon; the downpour went on longer than either of you anticipated.

“I promise I’ll come back soon,” he says, clinging to your hand with both of his.

“You always do.” You already trust him more than you can say.

Doyoung nods to your words, smiling somewhat bashfully. He steps out of the cave and lets your hand slip from his. But before he can get more than a few feet away, he turns around and comes back to kiss you once more on the lips, his fingertips on your face like he can’t believe you’re real.

You laugh once you separate from each other. “The sun’s getting low, and the others will question you. Go on now.”

Doyoung keeps to his word and makes his way out after fetching his horse, but he keeps glancing back to you until he’s completely disappeared among the brush.

You feel like your mind has been filled with soft moss, all airy and soft and tangled together with unending thoughts. You walk back to your tree feeling as if you could float there instead, enjoying the damp grass under your feet.

The time slips by blissfully.

Doyoung keeps coming out to see you during his free time each week, as he has done since he’s been in Eupheme, though sometimes he’s able to manage more than just one or two visits. On those weeks when he comes out more often, whether it be at night or during the day, you hold him especially tightly, enjoying the extra time with him and wanting to live inside of it—to freeze a moment in time and keep it close to your chest for as long as possible.

“I wish you could see the castle,” Doyoung says this low and close to your ear like he’s telling you a secret. He lies on his side beside you in the grass, playing with your fingers. A gap in the treetops lets a lopsided circle of sunlight shine down on your faces, warming you both from the inside out. “Walk through the maze of land...or see the stable.”

You hum softly. “Hmm...I’m sure it’s nice.” Doyoung laughs, knowing you’re not interested in any place else other than your forest; you can’t hide the neutral note in your tone, though he knows it isn’t towards him.

“Or I could live out here with you.” He strokes the pad of his thumb along the length of your ring finger, and you don’t fail to notice this.

You turn to him, full on grinning now. “I thought you said you’d never want to be tied to one place. Remember?”

Doyoung grins sheepishly along with you. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Mmm, how indecisive you are…if you stay with me here, you can’t ever leave.” You pluck a tiny blue flower from the ground and brush it against his lips, tracing the shape of his cupid’s bow with it. “Make your choice wisely.”

Doyoung purses his lips against the small flower, as if giving it a kiss, and does the same with your fingers as they ghost across his mouth. “I’ve chosen already, princess.”

You lean in to kiss him, and he meets you halfway. The little blue flower slips from your hand. You don’t know if there could ever be a more perfect moment, kissing him like this with the warmth of the sun on your back and your ears full of the sounds of birds chirping and insects purring—and, in the very distance, the lake water running.

You don’t get to bask in the moment for too long, though, before something is interrupting you; and it’s not one of the other women like you might’ve expected.

There’s a rustling and a crash in the bushes, and you whip your head towards the noise, but it’s only a deer—or maybe some other creature—running off. You catch a few glimpses of its brown coat before it becomes obscured by the leaves. You still keep your gaze turned towards the bushes. Though there is nothing else there, you still get the odd sensation of being watched, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

“What’s wrong?” Doyoung whispers, his index finger touching your cheek. He glances at the source of the noise, but his eyes stay mostly focused on you.

“I know it’s odd, but…have you ever felt like you were being watched? Even though nothing’s there?” you ask slowly.  “I’ve…sort of felt like this a few other times when we were together.”

Doyoung looks suspicious for a moment, though he eventually shakes his head. “No, I...not really.” He sits up to look at the same space you’re staring at, but he doesn’t see anything more than you do. “If someone else were out here besides the other dryads and the animals, wouldn’t you already know?”

“I suppose that is true,” you say, though you still look towards the bush, trying to see if there’s something you’re somehow not spotting. The sense that you have a pair of eyes at your back still doesn’t go away, even when Doyoung finally pulls you away from the spot to walk further into the woods.

In the middle of August, the Archduke of Eupheme holds a ball. He has been renown for his exorbitant parties for many years, and although he couches this party in the excuse of making the Crown Prince and his brothers feel a bit more at home in the kingdom, everyone knows it’s really just a reason to get drunk and have some fun. No one would dare complain, though; after all, who’d pass up the chance to attend? To rub elbows with handsome men and women and forget more pressing worries for a while?

The King and Queen of Eupheme see it as a good way for the young men to show off their newly acquired social etiquette they’ve been sharpening during their lessons—and possibly mingle with noble women. Similarly, none of the brothers will object to the latter idea. Except for maybe Doyoung.

“Cheer up! I’ve never seen you look so unsettled when going to a party,” Jungwoo says, pinching Doyoung’s cheek. They’re all loaded into their separate stagecoaches, with Jungwoo, Doyoung, Jaemin, and Mark in one and the other boys inside another behind them.

“I’m fine,” Doyoung insists, waving away the concern and plastering a hesitant smile on his face. He can already guess what’s in store for tonight.

The ride to the Archduke’s place is shorter than Doyoung expected. It’s been a long time since they last visited the Archduke’s mansion, and he swears he remembers the journey being longer than this. He sucks in a deep breath as he steps out of the stagecoach. The mansion looms large up ahead, obviously not quite as big as the King and Queen’s castle, but extravagant enough to be of note. Its stone interior glows with rows of brightly burning torches decorating either side of its grand entryway.

The Archduke’s large ballroom is filled to the brim with high-ranking officials and other nobility, with everyone mingling together in a big glittering clump of bodies and puffy dresses and long hair. There’s no other race but elves there, which is usually expected at royal balls like these; other species are often relegated to roles of servant, cleaner, waiter, and so on.

There’s a notable stir when the King and Queen and the eight men enter, and the room parts down the middle to make room for them.

The men wave and smile and mingle like they’ve been taught to, though some revel in it a bit more than others. They’re quickly embraced by the crowd, and the Archduke and Archduchess come to greet them. A young woman walks slightly behind them, her brown hair pinned up in an elaborate updo, wisps of hair clinging around her elven ears. Doyoung remembers her as their daughter and only child, who was never allowed to play in the yard with them as children because “such rowdy behavior wasn’t fitting for a lady of her sensibilities,” as her mother used to say.

“I’m sure you all remember Eunomia,” the Archduke says, encouraging the young woman to come to the front. The brothers all nod in acknowledgement, answering her curtsy with their own bows.

“You’ve grown even prettier since we were young,” Jungwoo says, smiling politely. The girl smiles timidly back to him.

“Thank you. You’ve become quite handsome yourself.”

“We’re so glad that we could be graced with the presence of the Crown Prince of Ceres tonight,” the Archduke continues. “We’ve all been looking forward to your appearance since we got word of your family visiting Eupheme. The timing, especially, is quite extraordinary, as we’ve been vetting possible suitors for our Eunomia.” It’s everything just short of an actual proposition to marry his daughter, and Doyoung’s lips twitch as a thousand different thoughts flit through his mind.

Doyoung bows his head slightly in acknowledgement of their statement and schools his expression into something neutral and amiable. “Extraordinary timing, indeed.”

It’s not long before the music is rising to a grand swell again. The other boys part ways to search for dance partners in the crowd, and Doyoung already knows what’s expected of him. He holds his hand out to Eunomia. “Would you like to dance?”

She nods and takes his hand. Doyoung leads her onto the main dancefloor beside a few other individuals who have already coupled up. A relatively fast tune carries their feet across the floor like the wind.

Eunomia is pretty, nice, and quiet. She’s too shy to meet Doyoung’s eyes directly—no doubt as a result of her parents’ training—and she lets him lead the conversation the same way he leads their dance. She would make the perfect wife to any other man but him.

Doyoung might have been more willing to pursue something with her if this gathering had happened a year before or even a few months ago, before their visit to Eupheme. Now, he only feels uninterested at best—and burdened at worst—about it all. He’s uncomfortable with the way her hand sweats in his palm, and with how fragile she feels in his hold. His mind keeps drifting back to the forest, though he tries to be present in the here and now.

The next few dances go similarly. Though his brothers and cousins seem to be enjoying themselves with the number of pretty women they have at their behest, Doyoung doesn’t feel the same. He ends up approached by various noblemen throughout the night, all holding some prestigious rank or another and seeking to introduce him to their daughters and insinuate a dance. And of course, being the gentleman and prince he is, how can he say no?

Each of the women is unique in their own way, but still not quite enough to hold his attention for long. He’s already made his mind up about who he wants, though you can’t be with him here now—or anywhere but the forest, really. This knowledge is equal parts comforting and disagreeable. He finally has an answer to the question about whether he’d ever find someone to love, though it turns out he cannot even be with you in an easy, convenient way.

By the time the night ends and the royals are on their way back to the castle, Doyoung is rather tightly wound. His mind swarms with thoughts of everything that occurred earlier in the evening and how annoyed and restless it all made him. Increasingly, he’s beginning to feel like he’s up against a wall that he just can’t surmount. He almost yearns for the days when he unquestioningly accepted his duty and actually received some enjoyment from his courtships, but he’d never truly want to go back. Not if it meant not knowing you.

“Are you okay? You seem upset,” Mark says hesitantly, noticing Doyoung’s tensed jaw as he keeps his face turned towards the window, looking out at the nightscape. Doyoung only gives his brother a quick glance before nodding curtly.

“I’m quite alright.” It’s a lie, but Doyoung doesn’t feel like trying to explain his mood at the moment. Though it’s easy enough for them to guess why Doyoung’s visits to the forest have been so much more frequent over the past month or so—and subsequently, why his mood is so sour now—it remains an open secret.

Jaemin settles back in his cushioned seat, grinning slightly to himself before looking up at Doyoung. “Your name must be on many a lady’s dance card tonight, Doyoung. I suspect every woman at the party had a turn, if not the Archduchess herself.” Mark elbows him in the side, but the younger man doesn’t think anything of it.

“I suppose so.” Doyoung rubs his finger over his lower lip. “But maybe you should be more concerned that the competition is diminishing your chances.” Mark and Jungwoo chuckle at that.

“Not to worry. When the time comes, the only choice they’ll have is me.” The younger two laugh even more enthusiastically, and Doyoung only shakes his head, grinning slightly despite himself.

 Once everyone is settled in for the night, Doyoung waits in his bed for an hour to be safe and then decides to sneak out to see you. Once again, he doesn’t bother with visiting the stable to take the horse, nor does he try to make himself look “presentable,” tired of being princely for the night. The only thing he does is pull on his pants and shoes and button up his shirt halfway before losing his patience and yanking his cloak on.

He uses his glamor to momentarily disguise himself as he passes through Arthenia, though the few stragglers outside don’t pay him much mind.

“Y/N?” Doyoung calls out your name, slipping his cloak to the ground once he gets to your familiar oak tree. He soon hears and sees the fluttering of tree leaves as you descend from the canopy and touch the ground, alighting from the branches as gracefully as if you’ve been doing it your entire life—which you have.

“My, sir. Here at this hour again? What could b—” You don’t get to finish your sentence before Doyoung is gathering you up in his arms and kissing you hard, his forearms wrapped tight around your waist. He picks you up off the ground and you let yourself be lifted, toes barely grazing the grass.

It’s a long moment before you can regain your breath. You look at him incredulously as he sets you back on the grass, pressing his forehead to yours.

“What...what’s got you in such a state?”

“Love,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your lips. You laugh at that, holding his flushed face in your hands.

“It’s a pleasant thing, isn’t it? But really, what is it? You seem tense.”

“I am tense,” Doyoung says, though he keeps his lips close to yours. He’s not really in the mood to go into detail about the evening and disturb what’s currently unfolding between you. “It’s just...royal niceties. They can become quite tiring.”

“That’s a pity,” you reply, though you pause in your next thought when his lips find your jawline and press against it firmly. This is the most intimate contact you’ve had since you met, or since he confessed to you, and it ignites a burning flame in your chest. “Maybe there is something that can help you with that.”

Doyoung pulls back to look you in the eyes, wondering if you’re insinuating exactly what he thinks. You step away from him and tug on his hand, pulling him away from the tree. “I’ll show you.”

You both walk along a section of the forest that Doyoung isn’t familiar with, and he conjures some light orbs to illuminate the pathway. You spend a long time walking—so long that he’s almost afraid he won’t be able to find his way back out. Or maybe he’ll encounter one of those unfriendly creatures that you previously mentioned lives on the outskirts. Wherever you’re taking him is farther than he’s ventured before.

You finally stop when you get near the west edge of the forest. The trees are slightly sparser here, and there’s a path through the middle that trails off onto the bottom of a steep hill. The hill marks the end of the forest and flattens out onto a field of tall grass. He catches glimpses of the grass swaying in the breeze under the moonlight and the light of his own orbs.

That’s far from the most eye-catching thing here, though. Another lake sits before you two, though it’s much smaller than the other one—more like a pond—and forms a nearly perfect circle.

You walk along the grassy bank and pull Doyoung along with you, and he’s surprised to feel heat coming from the water as he gets nearer to it. It’s not a burning hotness, but a comfortable warmth.

“Shall we swim?” You look at Doyoung over your shoulder, letting go of his hand to tug at one strap of your dress. He nods, watching wordlessly as you peel your dress off in front of him. His throat tightens to see you’re wearing nothing underneath. Standing nude underneath the combined glow of the moon and his own blue light makes you look positively ethereal, and Doyoung mentally imprints this image in his mind, filing it away as a permanent memory.

He watches as you step off the grassy bank and get into the pond, the black water lapping at your legs as you wade further into it. He’s still standing and simply observing you as you turn around to look at him and lift your arms out of the water, like you’re asking for a hug. “Are you going to leave me all alone in here?” You give him your best pleading eyes, and it doesn’t take long for him to strip his clothes off and come in after you.

He dips underneath the water’s surface and swims around you, and you giggle as you can just barely make out his form under the water. You can only spot the ripples he leaves behind.

Doyoung’s head pops above the water on the farther side of the pond, with his long black hair sticking to his face and covering his shoulders. It makes his ears stand out more, and you laugh. You swim over to him and he pulls you into him when you’re close enough, your naked bodies molding themselves to each other. You’re about to say something, but his lips quickly envelop yours and you forget any words you formerly had. You kiss for a while in the lake’s warm water, with the full moon and Doyoung’s lights serving as your only illumination.

You haven’t done much else but kiss so far, but you can still feel something hard and warm pressing into your stomach. Doyoung’s lips separate from yours to travel to your neck, pressing against your pulse point and softly sucking the skin there.

You pull away to look at him, your body feeling strangely light and hot all at the same time. “Maybe we should get out of the water,” you say, smiling coyly.

Doyoung nods and scoops you up, carrying you out of the lake and setting you down on the unnaturally soft grass surrounding the waters. It feels almost like a cotton blanket underneath you.

You’re both fully exposed in front of each other now, though you don’t really feel embarrassed about it. Doyoung’s hands are warm as he cups the sides of your face and nudges his nose against yours, teasing you momentarily with the promise of his lips before actually kissing you again.

You like feeling his hair underneath your palm, all wet and slick beneath your fingertips, and you run your fingers through the strands. They coil around his neck and shoulders like little snakes, or maybe vines on a climbing plant.

His member stands against his stomach, already leaking precum from the press of your lips and the warmth of your body against his. You reach out to touch him, tracing your fingertip against a vein and feeling the stickiness of the precum, and Doyoung sighs against your lips. His hands come to your inner thighs, pushing them a bit further apart so he can dip his fingers between them and feel you wet and warm for him.

You gasp sharply when he slides a finger into you. He reaches deeply inside you, his palm rubbing against your clit as he fingers you, and it makes you spread your legs wider and push your hips closer into his touch. You wrap your fingers around him, and you enjoy the pulse of his cock in your hand as you stroke him.

Doyoung soon slips another finger into you, stretching you out more for him, and you moan as he does. You press your mouth against the base of this throat and his collarbones, feeling the firmness of them as you lightly drag your teeth over them. As if by luck, he shifts his fingers a certain way and brushes against that sweet spot that has you leaning further into his body and moaning hotly against his neck.

“Doyoung…” you sigh. He gives you an answering moan as your fingertips slide over his tip, purposely lingering at the slit. Your lips brush against each other’s, not quite kissing but making some semblance of the motion. Despite how good you’re feeling now, with his hand working you up to an inescapable high, you decide you need to have more of him; you need to get as close as possible. “Doyoung, please.”

“What do you need?” he asks, his voice unbearably gentle and breathy in your ear.

“You.” You take your hand away from him to guide his body on top of yours, parting your legs to invite him in-between. You are less preoccupied with foreplay at the moment and just want him inside you, which he has no complaints about.

The firm press of him inside you is unlike anything you’ve felt in the recent past. It’s not like dryads go their entire lives without sexual pleasure—of course, there’s always self-pleasure and the company of other women, and even the occasional agreeable male visitor who comes into the forest—but it’s been a long time since you’ve experienced it delivered by another person’s body. It’s almost strange, but also good and familiar, if only a little painful at first.

You try to breathe evenly as Doyoung seats himself inside you, his hands stroking you so adoringly that it makes you lose your bearings. Him leaning forward to kiss you only takes more of your breath.

“Is this good for you?” he asks quietly. You’re not quite sure what part of it he’s referring to—him inside you or his hands strumming along your breasts and clit—but you nod enthusiastically. Everything he’s doing feels undeniably good. Just when you think it could not get any better, he pulls out a bit and starts thrusting into you. His pace is slow, allowing you to adjust, but it’s enough to make you cry out loud, gripping his slick shoulders for support.

Doyoung brings himself close to kiss your lips again, grinning against your mouth. “Shhh, my princess. If you’re too loud, you’ll wake all the others.”

You nod against his wet forehead, breathing heavily, though it’s a bit hard to keep yourself quiet as he fills your body over and over again. You press your thighs tight against his hips, feeling the muscles in his body flex as he thrusts into you. His movements create a slick sound between you, and the lewd quality of it entices you more.

While one of his hands slides slick and slow across your clit, you grasp the other and bring it up to your lips, kissing his fingers like you did the day he told you he loved you, and then nibbling on them, sucking them into your mouth. Doyoung twitches inside you when your mouth tightens around his fingers, and he groans into the night air. You’re reluctant to let his hand go, but you do it so he can leverage himself enough to dip his head lower and give more attention to your breasts, drawing his tongue across the round firmness of them and catching your nipples in his mouth.

He angles himself a bit differently so he can find your spot again and concentrates on repeatedly pushing into that sensitive part of you. His attentions bring you to your climax soon, and you can barely quiet yourself as you come around him. The pleasure seems never-ending, like it’s pouring into you from a bottomless well, and small tears bead at the corners of your eyes. Doyoung cups your face and kisses your tears away, and you hold the back of his head as he does.

When Doyoung gets close, he slips himself from inside you and thrusts in between the tight space of your thighs, his tip rubbing across your stomach. He comes soon after doing this, his seed pooling on your skin, some of it running into the grass.

You both lie in the grass after the aftermath, with Doyoung pulling you so you can lay your body on top of his. His heartbeat is still fast; you hear it hammering in his chest as you rest your head against his breast. You close your eyes and let the sound of it calm your own restless body.

After a few long moments of listening to the insects and night creatures making their midnight songs, you stir from your position on his chest and draw yourself up. “Doyoung…” you murmur, straddling either side of his waist so you’re hovering over him. You press your lips against his and he responds with a slow kiss. You can practically feel how satisfied he is as his lips push against yours, like a drunken sprite who’s gotten into a cup of ale.

You depart from his lips and trail your mouth over the rest of his body until you’re level with his softened cock. It jumps a bit when you grasp it, and Doyoung groans softly; his voice increases slightly when you press your lips to it, still tasting the remnants of his salty release and your own pleasure. His hand comes to hold the back of your head as you take him into your mouth, licking the shaft and feeling his balls in your other hand.

Though he was the one who’d hushed you earlier, now he has to choke back his own moans as you suck him and stroke your tongue around his tip.

You draw your mouth away from him, and a trail of spit follows your lips. “Does this feel good, my prince?” you ask, still stroking him languidly to keep his pleasure stoked. You know it does, but you want to hear it from his mouth anyway.

“So good.” He makes a noise between a whimper and a groan, and it travels straight to the apex of your thighs. His stomach tenses with his strained breaths as you take him back into your mouth, focusing your attention on the leaking slit.

His thighs tremble when he gets closer, and as much as you’d like to have him come in your mouth and drip over your chin, you decide to pull away and straddle your legs around his waist again. Doyoung whines needily, though his complaints are quickly forgotten when your sex slides over his slick shaft. He waits with bated breath as you grab the base of his member and line him up with your entrance, pushing him into you as you sink down on him. Feeling him part your walls makes your legs shake a little, and you readjust your posture so you can maintain your stability.

You seat yourself fully on top of Doyoung and let him press himself up into you as you push back down on him, your hands scraping for purchase on his chest. In this position, you can control the pace and ride him just so that his tip is pressing into your most sensitive spot.

Eventually, you lean forward with your mouth covering his. Another orgasm approaches you fast, and you pant against his lips as you search for that release again. “I love you,” you moan softly, trying to muffle your sounds with the touch of his lips.

Doyoung’s hands roam your body, coming up to palm your breasts and thumb at your nipples. “I adore you,” he whispers.

This time you both come within moments of each other, moaning into each other’s mouths. Doyoung pushes himself into you until you’re leaking over him once more, and then he hurriedly pulls out and comes across your thigh, leaving trails of white dripping down your skin.

Doyoung knows he’ll need to get up and get dressed at some point—and begin the long trek back to the castle—but he doesn’t think about that right now. He just pulls you closer and enjoys the warm stickiness of your bodies together, the lukewarm breeze stirring his hair, and the gentle grass tickling his skin.

“You don’t seem like yourself lately.”

Jungwoo brings this up to Donghyuck during one of their archery lessons as they sit beside each other underneath the sun. The younger man was noticeably not as concentrated or effortless as he’d usually be, and many of his arrows ended up being off-mark, if not missing their targets entirely.

Currently, they both sit in the grass after their instructor called for a break earlier, stating that they needed some time to cool off and pull it together—Donghyuck in particular.

“I’m fine,” Donghyuck grumbles, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. If he could close his ears, too, he would. Unfortunately for him, his brother doesn’t take that as a sign to stop talking.

“That’s doubtful. Really, what’s chafing you? I know all the lessons can be annoying, but there is nothing we can do about that for now.” The younger man doesn’t answer at all this time, but Jungwoo continues on. “I know Doyoung isn’t with us during our breaks as often as he was before, but isn’t that a good thing? He can’t tell us what to do all the time.”

Donghyuck groans, wiping his hands over his face at the mention of their older brother. Jungwoo perks up at this. “Oh? Is it something with Doyoung that’s bothering you? What is it?”

Donghyuck is quiet for a moment longer. When it’s clear Jungwoo won’t leave the matter alone, he turns to face his brother fully, looking at him more closely. He hesitates for a moment before finally saying, “What would you do if you wanted something you couldn’t have?”

Jungwoo thinks for a moment. “I don’t know. It depends on what it is. Maybe the logical answer would be to just give it up and stop indulging a fruitless case.”

Donghyuck sighs, hanging his head. “Of course. But what if...alright, what if it was a person? Someone you’re particularly fond of. And…they just make you feel as if…if they looked at you once, you wouldn’t hesitate to hand them anything they could ever want. Then would you give up on them so easily?”

Jungwoo’s eyes widen, and Donghyuck thinks he must’ve said too much. Before he can speak to try to defuse the situation, Jungwoo says, “Don’t tell me you’re still upset about Nayeon. I’m sorry Donghyuck, but—”

“Ugh,” Donghyuck pushes himself to his feet, taking up his bow and arrow again and walking off to one of the targets farther away from Jungwoo. “Nevermind.”

After Donghyuck gives a few more unsuccessful tries, the instructor decides to dismiss them early and encourages Donghyuck to keep his head clear for their next session. “I am well aware of what you’re capable of, Donghyuck, and I know you understand your own abilities. Just look at it as simply having an off day, but do try to keep your concentration next time.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies, already feeling drained even though they’re only halfway through the day. The walk back to the castle with Jungwoo is quiet, though crossing the ample landscape gives him plenty of time to think to himself. What you’re capable of...Yes. What is he capable of?

Maybe there was still a way to alter the course.

“You’re particularly quiet today,” you remark, studying Doyoung’s face. You’re both sitting in the small clearing where you and the other dryads often gather at night, only it’s daytime now and the other girls are off doing their own things. Deeper among the woods, you can hear their laughter from a distance.

Doyoung came to visit you with a solemn look, and though you can tell he is still glad to see you, there’s also a tinge of disquiet beneath it.

A strong gust blows some strands of hair into his face, and you brush them away before he can do it himself. He turns his head and stares at you as you do, his eyes big and imploring and brewing with a distress you can’t place. “Actually, you seem to be a bit different since...that night,” you continue. Your face warms at the thought of your first time together, and how Doyoung took you in the grass and whispered sweet adoration to you. “Is something wrong?”

Doyoung’s lips part like he wants to speak, though he remains silent for a few moments more. Then he says something that nearly makes your heart stop, the words coming slow off his tongue. “I want to give up my title.”

“Your title? As Crown Prince? How can you do that?”

“I could do it,” he says, his voice still low. “There’s no law against it. It might be...dishonorable. No, it would certainly not be…” He pauses, then abandons whatever he was about to say. “But there’s no law to stop me.”

“But why? I thought you liked being royalty, at least to some degree. Your station in life affords you many things others don’t have.”

“It doesn’t afford me you.” He grasps your hand where it lies in the grass. “We can’t be together if I’m still Crown Prince. If I walk away, though...”

You’re also quiet now, unsure how to respond to a declaration like this. For Doyoung to give up his royal title for you...it’s a much bigger implication than you think he’s really considering.

“But, the throne...you’re the heir, and it just…” You’re almost desperate to come up with at least 100 reasons why he can’t do it, though you aren’t sure why. Maybe you’re too afraid to hope it could be possible, even if it’s the slightest chance.

“I have six other brothers. Any one of them could...” Doyoung falters, remembering Yuta’s and Sicheng’s controversial parentage, and then sighs but tries to remain hopeful. You look at him with wrinkled brows, worry crowding your heart. You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, looping his arm with yours.

“I don’t know if they’d ever agree to it,” you say it almost inaudibly.

“There’s no way to know if we don’t try…” Doyoung replies, hugging you tightly to him. “I don’t care about giving up my title.”

You shake your head. “There are so many other things to consider, Doyoung.”

Doyoung knows you’re worried and doubtful, but he holds you close to him and kisses your temple and tries not to think about those things. He only wants to think about all the good things the future could hold for you.

A small grin appears on his face as he wills his mind to drift elsewhere. “How many children would you like to have?” Doyoung asks suddenly. You give him an incredulous look, though there is a grin of your own slowly taking over your lips.

“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want children.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “As long as I’ve been on this Earth, I’d have them by now if I wanted them.”

“Then it’d be just the two of us forever?” Doyoung pulls you so you’re both lying down and entangles himself with you, his head on your chest. He listens to your heart, a steady rhythm that lulls him into a sense of sleepiness. “That’s fine with me.”

You feel a tug at your heart, like the chambers are contracting in pain. “Yes, an eternity together.”

Despite your many doubts and questions, you have a warm dream that night. One of you and Doyoung living in the forest together, running through the hills, jumping across creeks, and enjoying each other’s company to your heart’s content.

Donghyuck knocks on the door of the King’s sitting room, his palms sweating as he waits for a response. Sicheng stands beside him, quiet and waiting to see if the man will respond. The King of Eupheme may be a long-term friend of their father’s, but Donghyuck can’t help the slight fear he feels whenever he’s in the man’s presence. Something about him has always been a little colder, more unforgiving, and more unyielding than their own father is.

“Who is it?” The man’s voice booms from behind the door.

“It...it’s Donghyuck and Sicheng, Your Highness.” Donghyuck’s voice wavers a bit as he speaks, and he tries to suppress the tremors in his speech. “We’re here for our...meeting.”

“Come in, then.”

Donghyuck turns the doorknob and enters the room, closing the heavy door behind him and his brother.

“Well, then. What is the pressing matter you have to inform me of?” The King raises one eyebrow, looking skeptical about whether Donghyuck has anything to report or not, though he waits patiently for the boy’s response.

The elven King’s presence seems impossibly heavier in this singular room, filling every corner of the space and physically weighing down the Earth’s gravity. Donghyuck almost doesn’t know what to do with himself in response to this force. Sicheng is less affected by it—or better at hiding it—though his face creases minutely. Donghyuck ends up speaking without thinking clearly about what he practiced prior.

“D…Doyoung is courting a dryad.”

“A...what, boy?” The King slowly leans forward, his sharp eyebrows drawing together, one hand coming up to stroke his long beard. They both know that he knows full well what a dryad is, but he seems unable to comprehend what Donghyuck has just blurted out. Or maybe he thinks the younger man is lying.

“A-a dryad, Your Highness. He’s been using his assigned free time—and sneaking out at night—every week to see her, in the forest beyond Arthenia. H…he’s even thinking of asking to be relieved from his title to be with her.” Donghyuck feels sweat gathering on the back of his neck, as if he’s the one about to be punished.

The King’s brows furrow even more, though this time his eyes hold a hint of rising anger. He leans back in his seat again, holding Donghyuck and Sicheng with a hard stare. “These are quite damning claims to make. Where is your proof?” Before either one can respond, the King continues on. “He will doubtless be questioned, but I would think that both of you have ample reason to try to sabotage the Crown Prince—especially you.” He directs his gaze to Sicheng at this, and Sicheng’s face falters. “A whore’s son will always believe he’s owed more than he’s worth.”

Disgust and hatred rises up in Sicheng’s chest at being regarded like this—always as less than his half-brothers—though he tries not to let his rage show. His jaw clenches as he speaks, keeping his tone measured, and it takes him a long moment to force out a proper response. “We indeed have proof…Your Highness.”

“If you’ll allow us, we need a mirror, Your Highness,” Donghyuck adds.

Still with a skeptical look on his face, the King waves his hand towards a small round mirror hanging on the east wall, sitting formerly unacknowledged despite all its ornate trappings. Sicheng walks over and takes it off the wall, coming back to stand in front of the King with it. Donghyuck comes up behind Sicheng and lays a hand on the back of the older man’s neck, pressing his index and middle finger where his brain stem would be. Donghyuck closes his eyes and concentrates, while Sicheng keeps his own eyes open, staring into the depths of the mirror and his own reflection.

In the mirror image, his eyes turn a foggy gray. Donghyuck’s memories flood into his mind as if they were his own, experienced with his own five senses; he can almost smell the forest grass and feel the sun burning his skin. Sicheng then takes his right hand and presses his fingertips against the mirror, forcing it to bend to his power and replicate what he’s seeing in his mind’s eye.

When the image becomes steady, Sicheng holds the mirror up to the King and lets him see what it displays; you and Doyoung lying in the grass together, with you dragging a tiny blue flower across his lips. Doyoung tilting his head up to accept your kiss. You looking straight ahead, trying to figure out why you sense a disturbance in the forest, only to see a deer—and missing the invisible form of Donghyuck staring at you and your lover from the bushes. Your conversation is hard to hear, consisting of mostly vague echoes, as if you were speaking underwater—channeling sounds is harder than conjuring up images—but there’s no need for words to understand what’s going on.

The King’s eyes are a windstorm of emotions at this point, a close rival to the actual stormy gray of Sicheng’s eyes as he reveals the memory. He is silent for an excruciatingly long moment. Still, he continually strokes his beard in a repetitive motion, though his gaze displays the true anger burning beneath the surface.

“And where is Doyoung right now?” he finally asks, after it seems like an eon has passed. Then he waves his hand sharply towards the mirror. “I’ve seen enough of that.”

“He has no duties to attend to as of right now, so he must’ve gone to the forest,” Sicheng responds. Donghyuck takes his hand away from his neck then, stepping back in a jerky motion as he tries to regain some of the energy spent from transferring the memory. Likewise, the mirror image fades once Sicheng takes his hand away from the glass, and the normal brown of his irises bleeds back into his eyes. “To see her again, no doubt.”

The King nods, pressing his fingers together into a steeple, his thick rings glinting in the light of the room. “Just as you say, the matter is quite grave. The King and Queen of Ceres will have to be notified immediately...and it will be handled accordingly.”

Donghyuck and Sicheng nod to the King’s statement, shooting each other looks out of the corners of their eyes. Donghyuck feels a small sense of triumph at knowing his brother will likely be sent back to Ceres soon—or at least, forbidden to see you anymore—even if he knows deep within that he shouldn’t be reveling in Doyoung’s impending heartbreak like this.

“Unfortunately, it also cannot be forgotten that you two, and all your other brothers, withheld this information for months.” The King blinks slowly. “I must also assume that my sons have been swept up in concealing this utter nonsense, to some degree. Those transgressions will be dealt with accordingly as well.” He draws the last sentence out to emphasize his claim, though the men have already heard him clearly. The tiny smirks they allowed themselves to show quickly fade.

Donghyuck feels as if he’s just had a bucket of cold water poured down his back, and Sicheng’s fists curl tightly around the mirror.

Donghyuck is the first to respond, bowing his head. “A-as necessary, Your Highness.” Sicheng lowers his own head after the younger does, though with noticeable reluctance.

The King waves his hand as a signal for the two men to leave, though he still looks thoughtful for reasons neither of them could guess. “You are both dismissed.”

Sicheng is fuming once they leave the sitting room, though Donghyuck’s anxiety manifests itself as tense silence, which is a true rarity for him.

“Look what your impulsiveness has gotten us into this time,” Sicheng gripes once they’re far enough away to not be heard. Donghyuck reawakens at that and shoots his brother daggers with his gaze.

“I didn’t think we’d get punished, too! And if you thought it was such a bad idea, you should’ve never agreed to it!”

Sicheng shakes his head, scoffing. “It’s neither here nor there anymore. Whatever comes of this had better be worth it.”

“You’d better hope,” Donghyuck continues. “Like we don’t know you’d sell us all out to have Yuta, your favorite brother, as the Crown Prince instead of Doyoung.”

Sicheng whips back around to Donghyuck. “I’d think he’d deserve it more than any of you ingrates who’ve had everything handed to you. You could never even imagine what it’s like to have to fight and scrape for an iota of respect among your own family.”

Donghyuck wants to scream something childish and hurtful back at him, but he’s lost on what to say. They all know Sicheng and Yuta have always been a bit separate from the rest of them despite their best efforts to make them feel included, but he hadn’t realized Sicheng felt quite this forsaken. The King’s earlier words certainly don’t help. Donghyuck has enough conscience left to feel guilty, though he refuses to acknowledge that aloud now.

When Sicheng sees that Donghyuck doesn’t have a response, he nods in vindication and stomps off.

After Doyoung returns to the castle that afternoon, the atmosphere in the castle is notably more tense. It’s as if storm clouds have gathered in the rafters, waiting for the perfect time to rain down hell. He senses this acutely, though he can’t quite understand the reasoning for it.

Donghyuck is uncharacteristically quiet today, and Sicheng is similarly reserved. Jeno, Jisung, and Jaemin conduct their business as usual, though there is a certain stiffness to their auras; the kind of careful and cautious demeanor you learn to adopt when living under the constant presence of a ticking timebomb. Mark and Jungwoo, who accompanied Doyoung on his visit to Arthenia and the forest, remain just as clueless as him about what’s wrong, though they also feel uncomfortable underneath the weight of the tension.

The air stays this way for hours, including during their nightly dinner. The Queen and King don’t do or say anything out of the ordinary, though Doyoung can feel the King’s eyes on him as he eats. The sensation of being watched makes his stomach curl into a ball, and his heart kicks up like a drum at the thought that pops into his mind. Maybe he’s been found out? But how? He’s been as careful as he knows how to be. He doesn’t truly believe any of his brothers would tell, and his cousins have been too disinterested in the affair to go stirring up trouble behind it.

Their three cousins eat quietly with their eyes glued to their plates, wondering what could be the cause of their father’s anger this time. They’ve known him long enough to pick up on the telltale signs of his rage, even when not openly expressed.

It’s nothing short of a relief when dinner is finally over, though Doyoung’s blood turns to lead when he hears the King’s deep voice booming from behind him. “Doyoung. Come with me.” The other men shoot him varying looks as they file out of the dining room, though none of them say a word. Donghyuck throws him a concerned glance in an attempt to remain unsuspecting, though there is a slight unsteadiness in his step.

By the time he gets to the King’s sitting room, Doyoung’s heart is beating overtime. He stands in front of the older man with his spine ramrod straight and his lips tucked into a thin line. The King doesn’t even acknowledge his presence for a few moments, simply stroking his beard and looking at some spot in the distance. Doyoung can’t decide if this is worse than being pinned under his gaze or not, though he quickly gets his answer when the King finally looks at him.

“Do you understand your position as Crown Prince?” This is not what he expected to hear first, though it fails to ease his anxiety.

“Of course, Your Highness. It’s a high honor, and one that requires a certain discipline.”

“Then why have you allowed yourself to become quite so undisciplined in your activities?”

Doyoung doesn’t know how to respond to this at first. He blinks rapidly and sweat breaks out over his skin. “Activities?” he stammers out, his mouth drying up.

“You’ve allowed yourself to be enamored by a woman who is so low she must live in the forest like an animal and forage for food. And you think this behavior is becoming of a man of your station?”

The room appears to spin. If his heart was hammering before, now it stops momentarily. Doyoung feels like he’s just smashed into a stone wall head-on. “Your Highness...I…”

“Have you lain with this creature?”

“Sh-she’s not...I…”

“Have you? Do not lie.”

Doyoung thinks of your hands on him and feels sick at such an intimate moment being forced out into the open like this, in such a cruel manner. “Y…yes.”

The King shakes his head, his frown deepening even more, if that’s possible. “And is there any chance that she could be with child now?”

Doyoung can’t remember ever feeling this humiliated, flayed open for all to see. “No. I was...careful.” The King pauses for a moment, like he doesn’t quite believe Doyoung’s claim. He doesn’t ask any further questions about it, though, and Doyoung doesn’t know whether to be concerned or relieved about that.

“Understand that you are infinitely lucky that you are not a woman, Doyoung, and can remain relatively unsullied by such acts. Nevertheless, I would’ve thought your father would’ve raised more diligent sons than this.” The King leans forward, and it seems like the Earth itself shifts with this movement.

“Then let one of the others have my title,” Doyoung blurts out, finally finding his voice again. “Yuta or Jaehyun. It doesn’t matter who it is.”

“Yuta isn’t getting anything,” the King spits. “Do you mean to make a complete mockery of your family? Your kingdom? To have a bastard sitting on the throne? Your father is a noble man, but laying with whores has resulted in the two biggest mistakes of his life.”

Doyoung’s head swims, and he has to bite back the first response that rises to his mind. “Your Highness, you’re correct in noting that I’ve made a grave error. Perhaps I’m truly not suited for the role. Don’t you think having my title transferred would be the best way to remedy that? Jaehyun is fit to be the Crown Prince. He can take my title, and I—”

“And you can do what? Live in the forest with the rest of the dregs?” The King draws himself up in his chair, and the action reminds Doyoung of a big brown bear attempting to intimidate a trespasser in its territory. His muscles turn rigid with fear. “It would behoove you to abandon this insane talk if you don’t wish to make the consequences worse for yourself. I’m not your father, boy, but as long as he’s left you under my care, I won’t entertain such dishonor on his behalf. ”

Doyoung wants to continue protesting but also knows that, just like you told him, this appears to be a fruitless case. He lowers his head as his stomach twists and his body tenses up further with the fear of what will come next.

“As you can expect, there will be no more visits to the village or the forest, if you can exercise no more self-control than this.”

Doyoung blinks rapidly, though there are no tears coming. “Will you send me away?”

“That would only draw more attention, which is the last thing we need to do. You are simply to remain in the castle until it’s time for you all to return to Ceres. Barring any more royal events, you will not be going anywhere further than the front lawn.”

Doyoung says nothing to this. To speak or nod would feel like sealing his own fate, though it’s already been chosen for him.

“You are lucky, Doyoung. Remember that. It is easier than you think for all of this to be forgotten, swept under the rug, so you can return to your homeland with your title and dignity intact. See—we do not even need to let your mother and father know. In a year from now, you will be wed, and this will be nothing but a regretful—if vague—memory.”

Still, Doyoung does not respond, his tongue heavy and immobile.

“You are your family’s honor. The consequences will not be as harsh for you...as long as you obey.” The King’s body relaxes now, as if all the day’s tension has suddenly unwound itself, though this is more of a false sense of security than any true calm. “Is that understood?”

Doyoung’s throat burns. It seems like he’s being pressed in on all sides. Not answering the King is not an option. Not seeing you again is not an option, either, if he wishes to preserve any iota of happiness on this Earth. Here it comes, now—the wetness gathering in his eyes and the tightening of his chest.

“I understand, Your Highness.”

It has only been a few days since Doyoung last saw you, but this alone feels like centuries to him, especially with the King’s order trailing him like a cement block tied to his leg.

He doesn’t intend on following it, regardless of the consequences. Maybe he’s not thinking straight anymore, but nothing else matters as much as you to him now.

There isn’t any way to easily get to you, though, considering the guards that have been stationed outside his room every night. And the other guards who follow him around the castle nearly 24/7 now. His glamors only grant him enough leeway to disguise his face, which is no use in making it out of his doorway undetected.

The stress of it all nearly makes him physically sick.

His brothers and cousins are not guarded quite so constantly as he, but they are similarly forbidden from leaving the castle—lest they try to report back to you with a message from Doyoung, or something similar.

Doyoung still does not know how the King found out and has had no free opportunity to question his brothers and cousins about it. In the back of his mind, though, the idea that he could’ve been betrayed lives constantly among his thoughts. Thinking on it for too long makes the back of his mouth taste sour, but he can’t help the festering sense of distrust he feels towards everyone around him.

Frayed and at his wit’s end, Doyoung finally thinks of an idea after an entire week of missing your presence. It’s a lot to ask for and may not work, but he needs to at least try it once before ruling it out. He has to be careful about it, of course, to avoid being found out by any of the watchful guards. Still, he manages to write a note during an etiquette lesson with his brothers, when the guards are standing outside the room. It’s easy enough to disguise his pen’s movements as him simply taking notes.

When the instructor looks down to read something from his book—squinting harshly even in his glasses, for his lack of sight—Doyoung slips the piece of paper to Mark. Mark gives him a questioning glance, though he says nothing. He only opens the note towards the end of the lesson, which is probably for the best because he makes a startled noise after reading it. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed by the instructor who is too busy listening to Sicheng answer a question he just asked him. Mark’s eyes burn into the side of Doyoung’s face, though the older man only gives him a sparing glance and returns his attention to his papers.

 Mark and Doyoung don’t get to talk formally until their next set of archery lessons. Only one of Doyoung’s guards is present that day, and he hangs back far enough outside of the archery range that it’d be difficult to hear their conversation, especially with them talking in low tones. Doyoung is the first one to initiate once their archery teacher becomes preoccupied with showing Jungwoo and Jaemin the technique for a trick shot.

He glances over at Mark after letting his arrow fly, then turns slightly toward him as he grabs another from his quiver. “Mark.”

The younger man’s eyes widen a bit at hearing his name called. “What?” he answers full-voiced, which causes Doyoung to give him a glare. Catching onto what’s going on, Mark throws an anxious glance behind them to the guard and to his left to the instructor, but no one pays him any mind.

“The note.”

Mark makes a face as if he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then quickly tries to relax his expression. “Doyoung, I don’t think…is this really a good idea?”

“I need to see her, Mark,” Doyoung hisses.

Mark’s eyebrows crease. He takes a moment to shoot his arrow at the target, not wanting to come off as suspicious to the others by just standing there. “I’ve never created a portal like…between Donghyuck’s room and mine, back at our castle? Yes, that��s perfectly fine. But from here all the way to the forest? That’s…” The younger man shakes his head, biting his lip.

“You have to try,” Doyoung begs. “Practice it or something. All you need to do is create one to get to my room, and then to the forest. I don’t care if it takes you a while, as long as I can see her again before we have to go back.” He does care, but at this point, he figures it’s better to have something than nothing.

Mark gives Doyoung a long look, shakes his head again, and then nods. “Okay. Okay. I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee anything.”

Doyoung presses his lips together and nods. His eyes are desperate, though he tries not to be. “It’s okay. Just try, Mark.”

Mark spends the next few days in the library in-between lessons. Though he hasn’t taken much interest in this part of the castle before now, he finds himself pouring through old, dusty books in search of something that can help him find a way to create a long-distance portal.

One of the books he finds describes simply just concentrating all your energy into your hands and putting it forth to open up a rip in space—which he is already capable of, but that doesn’t help him with projecting it out further. Another contains a weird chanting verse that he tries to pronounce, to no avail. Even if it did work, he wouldn’t know how to say it.

However, he eventually happens upon something that catches his eye.

“The Root Chakra serves as the foundation of your body and soul. Only when you are firmly grounded in your current body, space, and time can you begin to manipulate other spaces in time…whether it concerns generating long-range portals through space manipulation or even accessing different moments in history.”

“Opening the Root Chakra, huh?” Mark laughs to himself quietly and shakes his head. Despite being a magic user since birth, along with the rest of his brothers, this is the first time he’s heard anything of the sort. But it’s better later than never to learn.

Perhaps he’s more invested in this scheme than he should be, for both his and his brother’s sakes, but he also knows that he hasn’t seen Doyoung so fulfilled and joyful since discovering the forest. If his efforts can make a bit of difference in Doyoung’s current sunken mood, Mark is willing to try.

Therefore, he sets to work on “opening” this purported Chakra, keeping his practice to late-night hours to ensure he won’t be walked in on by anyone else. He feels a bit awkward at first, maybe even a little foolish, with “meditating” and trying to reach out to some strange energy inside himself. He’s never had to put much thought into creating portals before; it’s just something that happens as he wills it. He never considered that there might be more to the practice—that he’d need to tap into some kind of extra energy to improve his skills. He thinks back to the magic crystals in the marketplace and wonders if they’d be any help in this situation, though there’s no way of finding out.

Mark practices opening portals within the floor, knowing his room is above an empty guest room, as it’s too risky to try any of the walls; Jisung and Jungwoo sleep in the rooms on either side of him. He is soon able to make his portals wider than before—where they used to be the width of only his palms—which allows him to peer more clearly into the empty room below, though he still hasn’t tried to conjure anything farther away than that.

Once he feels he has more control over his energy, Mark soon begins experimenting with visualization, a technique the book cites for conjuring up long-distance locations. Allowing his energy to concentrate in his hands, he places his palms just above the floor of his room and pictures a place he’s fairly familiar with by now—the library. If it goes as planned, he’ll have created a portal to the library; if not…who knows what will be on the other side.

He feels the energy flow through his body, from his core, up his back, across his shoulders, and down his arms…it gathers in his palms and fingertips and triggers a small rip in time, which he gradually coaxes open wider, all the while visualizing the library as clearly as he can. Mark pushes the portal open a bit wider still and opens his eyes slightly to see if it’s worked. He’s dismayed, however, when he still sees the empty guest room sitting below him. A heavy sigh leaves his body, and it pushes the rest of his energy out with it; the portal closes with a silent snap.

Guess he’ll just have to try again.

The next few tries work similarly, and on those nights, he often ends up climbing into bed feeling discouraged and sapped of strength and wondering if he’ll ever get it, or if any of this is worth it. He keeps at it, though, for Doyoung’s benefit. And also partly because he’s curious to see what he’s capable of; now that he’s opened these floodgates, he needs to see how far he can push himself.

The first real hint of success takes him by surprise. It doesn’t happen quite as cleanly or perfectly as the book says, but something happens. When Mark opens his eyes that time, he’s still looking at the guest room—but now there appears to be a faint afterimage of the library merged with it, as if someone had tried to paint two different pictures at once. It’s not a complete location shift by any means, and he doesn’t try to go into the portal—afraid he might somehow get stuck between two realities—but it’s a start.

Improving on that start requires a little more time. More hours of meditating, reading, pushing his energy out and expanding it, visualizing. The afterimage begins growing clearer all the while.

On one blessed night, Mark opens his eyes, and the library itself is sitting below him. Not a faint representation of it, merged with some other room of the castle, but the actual library. He’s so surprised that he almost closes the portal by accident and has to steady his concentration to keep the energy flowing. Carefully, he sticks one hand through it. Then the other. It is still hard to keep the entrance open without physically guiding it with his hands, but he can manage it for a minute or two.

He looks at the long distance beneath him to the floor, with nothing but a lounge sofa to break his landing. Sweat breaks out on his skin, but he takes a moment to steel himself and take a deep breath. Then, he jumps through the portal feet-first, bouncing clumsily onto the sofa and tumbling onto the floor. Just as quick as he can right himself, he hurries behind the sofa to hide, afraid he might’ve alerted one of the guards with his rough landing. The portal has already closed above him with the loss of directed energy.

Mark waits for what feels like forever, his legs burning from holding the crouch, but no one comes. When he’s positive it’s safe, he places his hands on the floor and this time tries to create a portal back to his room. The spacetime-rip flickers briefly as if it won’t work, and a surge of panic rises in him, but soon it displays the sight of his bed and the nightstands on either side. A sigh of relief leaves him, and he jumps through the portal as smoothly as he can, landing on his bed this time.

Now, he is ready. He hopes.

The end of September—and the end of their stay in Eupheme—approaches. By that time, it has been weeks since you and Doyoung have seen each other. The one bright spot, though, lies with Mark.

Mark passes Doyoung a note during another of their etiquette lessons. The older man doesn’t wait to open it, though he keeps a watchful eye on the instructor as he does.

I think I’ve done it. Let’s try tonight.

Doyoung sucks in a breath and slowly lets it back out. Then, he crumbles the piece of paper up and shoves it into the pocket of his pants. He gives Mark a small nod, and Mark returns it before facing the teacher again as if nothing has happened.

Even though Doyoung had already given Mark instructions for how to create the portal, he is a bit unsure what to expect that night. He sits on the edge of his bed fully clothed, his hands clasped nervously together as his eyes dart all around the room, wondering where Mark will show up at.

He soon gets his answer when a teal ring of light manifests itself on the east wall of his room. It remains small only for a few moments before widening out enough to accommodate Mark’s form as he steps through it. Mark himself looks a bit shocked at what he’s just accomplished, even though he’s been doing it for a good amount of time now. Doyoung leaps up from the bed, about to speak, though he winces and remembers they still need to be mindful of the guards outside his door.

“You really did it,” Doyoung whispers, watching in awe as Mark closes the portal to his own room behind him.

“I did,” Mark affirms, and he can’t help but grin a little. However, his smile slips. “There is one thing, though.”

Doyoung’s stomach drops, and he can only imagine what this caveat will be. “What is it?”

“Well, once I’ve created the portal, I’ll have to keep it open,” Mark says. “Otherwise, I won’t know when you’re coming back…since we can’t communicate. But…I’ll only be able to keep energy flowing into it for about 15 minutes, maybe less, so…”

“…so make it quick. Right?” Doyoung replies. He is not surprised. Not because of any lack in Mark’s abilities, but more because this just seems to be the kind of luck that’s afflicted him as of late. Mark nods sheepishly.

“Just…be aware of the time,” Mark says, giving Doyoung an apologetic look. The older man only nods silently and steps back as he lets the younger do his work. Mark walks over to the wall he just came from and places his palms against it, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and concentrating. He holds the image of the forest entrance in his mind’s eye and shifts the power out from his hands and to the wall, opening up a gap in space as the portal widens.

Doyoung’s heart rate picks up as he sees that familiar forest entrance forming in front of him, still crowded with overgrowth and greenery. He steps over to Mark to see it closer, and he can even feel the cool night air brushing past his skin as he peers in.

Mark opens his eyes and nods for Doyoung to go on, and the older gives him a nervous smile. “Thank you.”

Indeed, the forest on the other side is the exact same one he’s been visiting for the entire summer. The same dirt underneath his feet, the same trees crowding each other in. For that reason, he doesn’t waste any more time with rushing inside, heading straight for the oak tree.

There’s an indignant sentence waiting on your lips when you hear Doyoung crashing into your forest late that night, not having seen him in weeks. You’re hurt, but you also realize there must be something serious going on back at the castle if it’s taken him this long to get back to you. However, the words die when you see the pure anguish on his face as he bursts out of the vegetation.

You slip out of the oak tree to meet him on the ground, and he scoops you in his arms like he did all those weeks ago, though this passion is now charged with fear. “Doyoung, what’s happened? What’s the matter? What has kept you so long?” you ask worriedly, taking his face in your hands.

Doyoung holds you close and simply buries his face in the front of your dress for a long moment, breathing in your scent and absorbing the warmth of your skin. Though you are terrified and confused, you wait for him to calm himself enough to speak to you.

“I can’t anymore,” he says, his voice low and broken. Your heart drops at this.

“Can’t what?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

“The King has forbidden me to come here—I shouldn’t be here now, but Mark...Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You hold Doyoung tighter against you, as if you could both become one being if you concentrated hard enough—wished hard enough. Your head throbs with the hurt of it, and your heart feels as if it’s being cleaved in two. You don’t say anything for a while, biting your lip so hard that it nearly bleeds.

“I tried.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Forgive me. I tried.”

“There’s no one to blame,” you argue, breathless from the vise pinching your heart and lungs. “I think we both knew how this would end…”

“I don’t want it to be this way. Y/N, forgive me. I should’ve never told you anything…perhaps if I’d kept my feelings to myself, we wouldn’t be in this mess now. You could live happily as you were, and I—”

“Don’t. Please don’t. I wouldn’t trade our time together for any living being…not even the gods.” You shake your head as tears begin to slip down your cheeks. Doyoung tries to wipe them away, though tears of his own escape without his permission. “It may be selfish, but…I-I just ask that…p-please don’t forget about me when you leave and start your own family.”

Doyoung takes a deep, shuddering breath and presses your head into his chest. “I could never,” he whispers.

He thinks he’s safe in your arms, and you safe in his. That’s what he’d like to believe, as you sit here together in the forest for the last time. Unbeknownst to him, something in the castle stirs and then bursts to life, violent and red-hot with rage.

Mark, on the other side of the portal, waits. He feels his energy weakening the longer he holds it open, but he does so anyway as nervous sweat gathers on his temples. He wants to call out to Doyoung to somehow warn him of the time limit, but remembers that the guards will hear it if he does. So he remains silent and waits impatiently as the end of the 15 minutes approaches.

However, he can’t wait any longer as the time ticks past. His magic flickers once, as does the portal, before disappearing completely. Mark nearly keels over at the loss of energy and has to catch himself as quietly as possible, bracing his shaking hands against the floor. He pushes himself up a bit and sits on his knees. He thinks desperately to himself, I should make another portal, but he doesn’t have enough energy for that at the moment.

The next move he makes is a costly one.

He reaches into his pants pocket for his pocketwatch, which he remembered to bring with him. He intends to see how far it is past the time they’d agreed Doyoung would come back, and how long it might take him to regain enough strength for another portal, but his shaky hands cause him to drop the small watch. He tries to grab the chain, but the movement is too sudden and clumsy and causes the watch to bounce even farther away from him, skittering clear off the rug and onto the hardwood floor.

Mark swears all his organs stop functioning at once when he hears a knock on the door. It’s quiet at first, and the silence is deafening. He thinks about scurrying up into the bed and lying there to pretend like he’s Doyoung, still asleep and not out in the forest, but his legs are locked with fear and lingering weakness. The second knock is more forceful, and the guard doesn’t wait for much longer before jamming his key in the lock and swinging the door open.

Mark whips his head around, and they both stare at each other dumbstruck for a moment. The guard’s gaze lingers at Mark in confusion, then quickly sweeps over to the empty bed. His eyebrows draw into a furious expression. “Where is the Crown Prince?”

Doyoung’s heart squeezes painfully at the thought of returning to Ceres without you, his brothers going on with their lives as normal despite his own secret heartache—and it’s only then that he realizes he’s lost track of the time. He jerks away from your arms, looking around frantically. “Wait—Mark.”

“Mark?” you repeat, confused.

“I…he made a portal so I could get here, but I was supposed to…shit. Come on.” Doyoung takes your hand and you both rush to the forest entrance. When you get there, though, there’s no portal and no Mark. Doyoung’s grip around your hand tightens. 

Though you aren’t totally sure what’s going on, a sudden dread overcomes you. “What happened to it?”

“He probably had to close it, but…I’m sure he’ll open it again once he gets his energy back.” Doyoung’s voice is uncertain, though, like he’s trying to convince you both. You look at the side of his face and try not to voice your fears, but as you both stand there waiting to see if the portal will reappear, it becomes apparent that something has went wrong with the plan.

“Explain yourself.”

“Your Highness…I…um…” Mark’s mouth is too dry for him to properly form words, and his legs shake where he stands. Not because of having his energy sapped—because of the King’s overbearing presence. The King stands in front of him, not even bothering to go to his desk this time, and Mark has to crane his neck a bit to look at him, though he can’t meet his eyes. “It was just…”

“I won’t ask again.”

Mark shakes his head and pulls at his hair, silently begging Doyoung for forgiveness in his mind. Still, he doesn’t say anything to give his brother up, keeping his eyes averted more out of fear than deference. “Please, Your Highness…I just…”

When the King sees that Mark won’t give a direct answer, he scoffs in disgust, sweeps the younger man out of the way, and heads for the door. Though Mark only moves a few inches, he feels like he might as well have been thrown clear across the room. The King speaks to one of Doyoung’s guards, who was standing just behind Mark. “Call the rest of the guards. I’ve exhausted my patience on the matter; these lecherous whores cannot be allowed to continue defiling my kingdom.”

“Wh-what does that mean?” Mark’s small voice is lost to the air as the King leaves the room without a glance backwards. The guard goes to enact his order, while the other one grips Mark tightly by the upper arm and drags him out of the sitting room. “N-no, wait, what’s about to happen?”

The guard yanks Mark’s arm in a gesture that calls for the questioning to come to an end. “Best keep quiet, boy. You and the Crown Prince have gotten yourself into enough shit tonight.” Then he chuckles. “One of these days, he was bound to find out that everyone won’t keep coddling him and wiping his ass. About to lose his title over some pussy. Quite sad, isn’t it?”

The guard’s words—and the realization that none of them have ever really cared about Doyoung’s wellbeing beyond being his hired watchdogs—sets Mark off. “Shut the fuck up!” Mark spits in his eye and stomps on the man’s foot at the same time, and the guard curses and lets him go for a split second. Mark doesn’t wait. He takes off down the hall, unsure where he’s going but knowing the castle is big enough to lose the guard—as long as he doesn’t run into anyone else.

He just needs to get somewhere where he can have enough time to create another portal.

“This can’t be good…” you finally say. You and Doyoung must have a death grip on each other’s hands right now, but neither of you are willing to pull away.

Doyoung shakes his head slowly. “No…it’s been too long. Maybe I-I should go back. Maybe if I go back willingly now…” He trails off, not knowing what could come at the end of that sentence.

“Doyoung, no. I…please don’t leave me.” You feel mentally torn between sending him away and knowing this is the last time you’ll see him versus having him stay here with you, if only for a few minutes more. At this point, you’re not sure what the right answer is anymore.

“They might come looking for me, Y/N, and I don’t want them coming here disturbing the forest—"

“Stay! You can hide somewhere, I…as the keepers of the forest, we’ve been handling ourselves against intruders for years. We can protect ourselves—and you. If they come, you can hide out here until they leave. Please, stay.”

Doyoung cannot say no to you or your pleading eyes. He nods. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen after all this—if he wants to go back to the castle, or if he’ll even be allowed to return. He doesn’t know what they’ll do to him in retaliation, and even the vague idea of it frightens him. Having his title removed is one thing, but the King of Eupheme is far more vindictive than that.

You and Doyoung only make it to the small cave you’d hidden in on that rainy day before you hear the distinct sound of another pair of feet crashing through the woods. You both whip your heads around, though you also grab Doyoung’s arm and pull him under the cover of the willow tree. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and you are too frantic to be able to sense who this new person is; though the question is quickly answered by a sharp whisper.

“Doyoung! Doyoung?”

“It’s Mark,” Doyoung hisses, his eyes widening. He slips between the tree branches and softly calls Mark’s name. In another few moments, the younger man is standing under the tree with you both.

“What happened?!” Doyoung asks, holding onto the younger boy’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Doyoung.” This is all Mark can say, and the words roll off his tongue repeatedly. He hangs his head. “The King knows, and he’s sent the guards to come here—I don’t know what he’s going to do, but—please believe me. It doesn’t sound good. He’s done being reasoned with.”

You and Doyoung look at each other with trepidation gripping your chests, realizing the stakes are much higher than you anticipated. This does not sound like just another case of “unwelcome intruders,” but “unwelcome intruders with bloodlust on their minds.”

“But—I can create another portal. I’m sorry, the last time, I just—but I can make one now. Come with us, please.” The last sentence is directed at you, and you shake your head.

“And go where? They’ll still be waiting for me at the castle. Are you suggesting we run away from Eupheme?” Doyoung’s voice is not reprimanding, but more incredulous than anything else.

Mark’s hands shake at the idea of turning his back on his family, which is something he’s never had to consider before—not even in the slightest sense. Things have gotten much more out of hand than he could’ve predicted.

You shake your head again, your hand slipping from Doyoung’s. “Just…I’ll stay here and help the others. You should go.”

“Y/N, I...” Doyoung’s throat tightens as he tries to speak, but his thoughts are disrupted by a quickly mounting commotion. The sound of hooves beating in the distance, though getting increasingly closer. The shouts of men who are ready to wage a battle, with fire racing through their veins.

Though most of Arthenia is asleep at this time of night, the noise of the horses’ hooves and the soldiers’ shouts is enough to begin waking the townspeople up out of their beds. Faces press against windows and peep out of doorways to see what’s happening.

The villagers are terrified when they see a group of soldiers adorned in the royal insignia and riding on horses enter Arthenia with lit torches in their hands, thinking their homes are about to be destroyed. However, they become even more confused and frantic when they quickly realize this band of men is paying their properties no mind and heading straight in the direction of the forest instead.

Some of Arthenia’s magic-wielders rush from their homes to try to put a stop to the men once they understand the situation, and the orcs and ogres meet them with brute force alone. The guards are met with a fight fiercer than they expected, even with their torches and daggers, not realizing the villagers could be so battle-hardy.

The King watches the battle ensuing in Arthenia from a hilly vantage point above the small town. The guards have failed to make much more headway against the villagers, who are gradually inching them back towards the village entrance. Shaking his head in disgust, the King pulls on his horse’s reins. “If you want something done, do it yourself.”

Some of the townspeople notice the King’s appearance just before he rides into the village. A few of them falter and cower in fear, finding the nearest exit point and taking their leave. Some others, incensed at their town being threatened and generally filled with rage at the King’s lack of fair leadership, decide to charge him head-on. They’re quickly extinguished, though, when the King conjures a great sphere of fire in his hands and whips it across them without a second thought.

He does the same to any other Arthenians who attempt to challenge him as he cuts a path through the village, uncaring of the land and homes he sets on fire as he does. A couple of the guards hop back on their steeds and follow him to his ultimate destination.

The King drives forward into the foliage. The women of the forest are armed with their own heavy rocks and sharpened arrows and daggers dipped in poisonous berry juice, though their weapons can barely leave their hands before everything is suddenly being enveloped in a wide swath of fire, meted out by the King’s hand. He leaves a path clear for himself and the guards in the middle, but the trees on either side are sent up in a blaze.

The two guards remain in single file behind him to use his fire as a shield and avoid the sharp rocks and poison-dipped darts zooming past their heads. Perhaps they’ve underestimated these tree-dwellers; already, there have been a few scrapes that were too close for comfort with the jagged edge of a rock or two. The guards light up as much greenery as they can as they go, using their torches to ignite leaves and low-hanging branches.

All around them, there are the sounds of Arthenians and dryads screaming in tandem as their homes go up in flames. A few nymphs lie fallen among the grass, unmoving as their tree homes burn up in the night.

The King, who has had the foresight to bring his shield, keeps it steady in front of him as he blasts fireballs out from behind it, lighting up one group of trees after another. He doesn’t know which one belongs to you, but he is willing to burn down the entire forest to find out. His movements are wilder than they’d normally be, which says a lot even for him, who has previously had no trouble slashing down anyone who stood in his way during battle—even if they were innocents.

“Doyoung!” The King shouts, and he whips up a great blanket of fire. He sends it careening up towards the sky like a shooting star, and it lands high among the tree canopy, heavy and far-reaching enough to burn treetops several feet in every direction. The guards become a bit wary at this, as the flames blaze above their heads and send sparks and burning debris flying down. “Doyoung!” His voice shakes the leaves like thunder. “If you do not wish to burn alive with these forest dregs, show yourself now!”

Doyoung’s spine stiffens as he hears his name echoing through the woods. It comes from a distance behind you all but is still too close for reassurance. If you stay in this spot for another few minutes, the King or one of his guards could be right on top of your heads.

“Come on!” Doyoung pulls your hand tightly as he helps you up the edge of a steep grassy incline, Mark supporting you from below. Though you’d be able to make it up there any other time by yourself, you don’t dare deny the help now. Your whole body feels like a live wire of fear and panic; the forest burns around you, and the encroaching smoke threatens to choke all three of you to death. Most of all, you feel devastated to see what’s happening around you, being essentially powerless to stop it. Nothing of this degree has ever befallen your home before; even the rare small blaze could be easily enough snuffed out. But not when the flames are being stoked and encouraged like this—building upon each other to see which can reach the tallest tree or the farthest edge of the forest.

After you reach solid ground, Doyoung drags Mark up behind you. There’s no time to pause after all three of you are on the ground; Doyoung grips your hand again and Mark follows behind the two of you as you run.

“The tree, the tree, the tree…” These words spill from your lips in a frenzy. Though your tree hasn’t been touched by the flames yet, it’s only a matter of time with the forest rapidly catching on fire. You can still feel the deep anguish of every other tree in the forest as their trunks catch fire, their leaves shrivel up, and the water evaporates from their root systems. Their silent screams and the shouts of your fellow dryads ring in your head loud enough to make you fear that your skull will split.

“Where are we going?” Mark asks, covering his nose with his sleeve and coughing profusely at the smoke all around.

“Out of the forest!” Doyoung shouts back. He doesn’t really know where to go except for the edge of the woods, and you aren’t in a state to tell him where to head. Deep down, he knows you want to turn back and go to your tree. The oak tree lives innately in you and you inside of it, and it calls you to come back, but the path is too dangerous; returning to it would only speed up what appears to be progressively inevitable. The King and his guards are somewhere in the forest behind you all, and turning back would only land you right in their hands or in the tendrils of the fire.

One of the guards feels a tinge of nervousness grow as the fire rages on around them, and he decides to try to reach out to the King. “Your Highness! I will go in search of Doyoung. Perhaps we should fetch him now before some danger befalls him; the fire is spreading exponentially.” The King gives him a signal to depart, though his eyes still burn just as brightly as the flames do.

The guard separates from the King to cut a path diagonally through the woods, going off to find Doyoung. The Crown Prince may have disobeyed the King—which is as good as committing treason against the kingdom—but it would still not look favorable for him to have died in a fire started at the King’s hands. However, the King is too far engulfed in the whirlwind of his own rage to consider these things more deeply.

The other guard stays by the King’s side, though his horse nervously shifts in place at the flames all around. The two men come to a stop in a wide and messy half-circle of fire, their backs to the flames as they watch the woods ahead for any signs of approaching creatures—or Doyoung himself.

Unbeknownst to the King, your oak tree sits only a few feet away in a yet-untouched portion of greenery.

A few leaves suddenly fall off a tree up ahead—too sudden to merely be caused by the wind—and this makes the King whip his head around and raise his hand to unleash more fire. Nothing appears from that spot, however, and the leaves remain as still as they were before. That moment of hesitancy costs him.

A small poison-tipped dart shoots from the leaves, catapulted by the force of a sudden, expertly-timed breath through a wooden blowgun. It lands squarely in the King’s open palm, which still faces the tree. A shout bursts from his throat in response, and it is only then that the guard realizes what’s just happened.

“Your Highness—!”

The shock and pain of the sudden assault causes the King to strike out in delayed anger, sending a wave of fire at the row of trees ahead of him—and a little further beyond, your oak tree in its small, grassy clearing. The dart burns up in his palm as he does, but its sharp point has already broken his skin. His reaction, though hampered by a few seconds, doesn’t afford Cassia much time to do anything but watch as a wall of feverish red and orange overtakes her, but her last few thoughts linger with you—where you might be within the forest right now, and if she could see you again in some faraway afterlife.

You’ve always known you would die when your tree finally did, but you weren’t sure what you expected it to feel like.

Certainly, not this kind of great reckoning—a sensation of every living element simultaneously being drained from your body. It feels like the core essence of your being has been cracked like an egg and is now flowing out endlessly, laid to waste in the grass. The sudden weakness that eclipses you makes it so that you can barely move your legs to continue running, and you collapse to the ground.

Mark nearly trips over your fallen form, but he quickly finds his voice and screams for Doyoung. The older man is already turning around, however, at feeling your hand slip from his. He rushes to you immediately, his eyes growing wide as he tucks his hands under you and scoops you into his arms.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, please! Y/N, please, no!”

“Doyoung…”

“No. No! I’m begging...please, stay with me.”

Tears spill from his eyes in an endless torrent. You would like to touch his face at least once more, and you are infinitely glad—if not also heartbroken—when he grabs your hand and holds it to his cheek. His tears wet your skin, running down your palm.

“I…I already told you not to forget me, so please…”

“Y/N, I’ve got to get you out of here…” Doyoung says desperately, and he struggles to make it to his feet. His legs tremble too much to support him, though, and his shoes slide in the leaves and dirt underfoot. Mark stumbles backwards, his back hitting a tree trunk as his muscles tense in horror at the scene in front of him.

“D-don’t. Leave me here.” Even saying this much feels like a massive effort.

“What?”

“Th-the forest and I are one in the same. I live and die here. Please…do this one thing for me, Doyoung.” You look at him imploringly with as much strength as you can summon despite your eyes growing heavier. Beyond the smoke, the cloudiness of your own tears, and the pull of death, it’s becoming harder to see; his features blur amid your surroundings.

Doyoung is quiet for a moment, though he slowly nods, gripping your hand tightly. He lowers his forehead to yours, and through the smoke and fire, he swears he can still smell the scent of jasmine. “I love you, Y/N.”

“My prince…” The corners of your mouth rise in a tiny smile. “I love you.”

The Crown Prince keeps his forehead against yours, his tears raining down on your cheeks long after you’ve gone limp in his arms.

Mark slumps to the ground, feeling as if his stomach will turn itself inside out, his heart hammering in his chest. He tries to breathe evenly, though his chest tightens painfully from the attempt. Eventually, he buries his face in his hands, trying to physically shut out the ache. He’s not sure how much time passes like that, with him and his brother immobilized on the ground, but he does know they need to leave, soon, as the air around them grows more stifling.

“Doyoung…D-Doyoung, we need to…w-we should…” Mark’s voice cracks, coming out weak in the roar of the noise around them. He coughs again, then shuffles to his feet, leaning on the tree for support.

Doyoung looks up at him without a word, his face streaked with tears and dirt. Then, slowly, he unravels himself from you and lays your body gently on the ground. He shuns his cloak to cover you with it, though part of him desires to stay here and perish with you instead of leaving only a portion of himself behind.

Him and Mark travel a few more yards through the woods, and though he’s never seen this part of the landscape before, he can guess they might be nearing the edge of the forest. The trees have begun thinning out here like they did at the small circular lake.

“Wait—" Mark calls out. Doyoung doesn’t bother looking back at Mark, but he can hear it too. The sound of horse hooves increases in volume, and they soon see one of the guards riding towards them, torch still in hand.

“Crown Prince! Prince Mark!” he shouts. “Come with me immediately!”

Doyoung looks frantically towards the ground. A sizeable rock catches his eye, bigger than the palm of his hand, and he picks it up. Without a second thought, he launches it at the guard’s face. It catches the guard on the left side of his face with a sickening pop, causing him to yell out in pain and fall from his horse. His torch falls from his grasp, starting yet another small fire where it lands.

With its rider gone, the horse slows its pace, though it does not stop. Doyoung catches it by the reins and is able to bring it to a pause long enough for him and Mark to get on. Everything else falls away from him as he guides them towards the forest’s outskirts; he barely feels the wind whipping past them, the lingering smoke stinging his eyes, or even the sturdy animal racing underneath him. He has a brief thought about what happened to those dangerous animals you said live on the outskirts, as there are none here now, but he reasons that maybe they’ve already made their own escape.

The sky is turning lighter now from the approaching dawn. When they finally breach the last row of trees in the woods, they come out onto an expansive field, only broken up by stray trees here and there and other landforms. On the far horizon, another town looms against the sky, though it’s much bigger than Arthenia.

Doyoung signals for the horse to stop, and both he and Mark sit there for a few long moments. Mark sucks in a few deep breaths, as if he were the one running this entire time. 

“W-what…what now?”

Doyoung doesn’t answer at first. Then, quietly, he asks, “Are you coming?”

Mark doesn’t know where his brother intends to go, but he wordlessly understands that it isn’t back to the castle. Or even Ceres. He swallows against the lump in his throat.

“I…I have to see the others.” He means their brothers. He means their parents back in Ceres, if he is even allowed to live. He is not sure what the King will do to him once he returns—if he’ll be tried for treason. Still, his chest burns with the desire to see his siblings at least once more.

Maybe that’s how he justifies it.

He’s not entirely sure why he refuses Doyoung in this moment, even when he thinks back on it years from now. Maybe he is too ashamed of the guilt—of feeling like it was all his fault. (If he hadn’t dropped the stopwatch…) He doesn’t want to serve as that constant reminder for his brother.

“Can you get back, then?” Doyoung asks. Mark realizes he’s referring to creating another portal, and he nods, though somewhat hesitantly.

“Y…yeah. I can.” He swallows again and hesitates for another moment. Then, Mark dismounts from the horse and looks up at Doyoung. “Where…where will you go?”

If the older man has already planned his route, he doesn’t disclose it. He simply looks at Mark with an expression that can only be described as pitiable, broken. His eyes are red-rimmed and his skin is ashen. “Goodbye, Mark.”

Mark stares at his retreating back as he leads the horse away and across the field. The space between them stretches out into forever, with a million unsaid thoughts and emotions falling in the gap.

Behind him, the forest continues to burn, taking all life with it. In front of him, Doyoung’s form turns into a speck against the endless green. It is a long time before Mark leaves that spot in the grass.

In the castle, Donghyuck slumps against his window as he watches smoke rising in the far distance, already knowing where it’s coming from. Like a mirror image of his older brother, tear tracks make their way down his face as he buries his head in his arms.

“What have I done?”

[nemuitoka]

What are your favorte jshk fanfics? also where do you like reading them the most?

Hi Anon!!! today is the day I can finally answer this question😈 ahaha you know how much I enjoy making fic recs so 👀 Let’s go!!!

To answer your second question first, I like reading them on AO3 the most! Mostly because I get almost unlimited number of characters to rant in the comment section........... 😆but also the tagging system is very helpful.

Okay, now to the fun part of this ask😏

You said JSHK, but I mostly read Hananene ones so all of my favs include that pairing... as  I already did a fic rec here of my favs, this list will continue that one, so please check that one first hehe ((I apologize in advance..., I would love for people to recommend me some mitsukou ones tbh... I’m really lost when it comes to other pairings orz)) 

If I’m completely honest with you anon-san, my favorite JSHK fic right now is the one Roxanne ( @istoleyourboat )  wrote based of my art and her snippet:

Star-Crossed and Falling- Where Stars Go to Die by lilaflo

Hanako is Princess Nene’s personal knight 👀. A tale of forbidden love. They slowly fall in love as they exchange a series of gifts, one that includes a pair of matching earrings that remind them of their love when they’re apart. Also, jelly Hanako of Nene’s suitors😏... Oh, but nothing lasts forever and those sweet moments will come to an end when they have to face their cruel reality, in this world, they don’t get to choose neither their battles or the ones they love.

Now more of Roxanne, because I seriously enjoy her work so much (I’m sure everyone knows by now lmao sdkj) 

Night of the Phantom King by lilaflo 

This one is a spooky one. Nene’s regret for never realizing who she truly loves takes her to mourn her deceased friend Amane and cry on his grave in a Halloween night, then suddenly the Phantom King comes to take her away👀 & he looks suspiciously familiar... Beautiful world building btw, also the ending is just, excellent. 

12 Year Romance by lilaflo

Amane meets Nene at the Tanabata festival, she’s older than him, but he falls for her instantly, fast forward, Amane is now in middle school, he’s a troublemaker, & gets constantly into fights, but he swears the new school nurse looks familiar... he then realizes it’s her and thinks it must be fate!!!... This one hits close to home bc I’ve been in this situation irl, so I can confirm all of Nene’s struggles are real (and ofc how a love with an age gap should be handled the correct way, this fic really teaches you many life lessons hahaha) 

took a sip then another sip, then you turned and said to me by chivalrousamour 

This autor has a bunch of good JSHK fics!! I recommend you check their AO3 out, bec you may find something you like for sure! But, this is my absolute fav from them. Nene is a mangaka, celebrating the finishing of her long serialized manga, while Amane is a delivery boy who happens to find her in a very questionable state in her house👀 (it’s all family friendly ofc, anon, I’m not a slimy pervert like some ghost boy)

Maid for Each Other by corologs ( @corologs )

Courtney has this amazing College AU collection series that I encourage you to check out!!! But Maid for each other is my fav!!! So it’s the Yugi twins birthday, and it’s Tsukasa’s turn to choose where they go to celebrate it... you can already tell where this is going... (let the chaos begin) & as the title said, it involves maids!!! (it has Kaicho wa maid sama vibes if you liked that anime~~)

If I Could Tell Her by corologs

What if the picture perfect arc plan was successful??? Well, this fic explores this idea, and it’s very interesting to read. I like how Amane and Hanako are two separate people here.

the horizon tries but it’s just not as kind on the eyes by sincerelyand ( @sunlightinourheadlights ) 

(Oh my sweet Karen, she writes such good fics, so go check her AO3 out as well!!) Amane and Yashiro are friends that share an apartment (& they were roommates-- OMG they were roommates), even if Amane has its complains, because Nene can be a handful sometimes (and in denial of her true feelings as always, are we even surprised at this point?) he loves her dearly anyways😭.

for real, this time by sourlemoncandy  ( @sour-lemon-candy )

Did somebody say fake dating AU?????? Because hell yeah I did asajj I loved reading this so much!! Nene and Amane are childhood friends, and Nene overhears some girls talking about Amane and how one of them plans to ask him out... but she senses these girls are up to no good so she... well, you gotta read it to find out more~~ it’s no fun If I tell ya everything hehe... so go go go!!

lemon cream by sourlemoncandy

Amane and Nene, just two good friends having a road trip and sharing donuts... what could go wrong??  😏 seriously, I loved this fic so much!! Instant fav! Also makes me wanna try some good sweet donuts...

Trip Down Memory Lane by insipidenvy ( @insipidenvy )

This fic is so sweet. I have such a huge attachment to it, because I read it when I really needed some fluff in my life hahaha. It’s sort of a collection of memories between Amane and Yashiro’s relationship over the years. So heartwarming... if you need the fluffs you’ll enjoy this very much!!

The Radish Princess and the Toilet Prince by insipidenvy

This is my favorite fic from insipidenvy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know how I am a slut for Royalty AUs so that’s why!!!!! Also Toilet Prince!! hahahaha such a good nickname lmao. I love how they bond over their insecurities, it’s very relatable tbh. 

Between Wind and Water by WingSongHalo  ( @wingsonghalo )

My beautiful Wing always delivering the good Hananene content, as she should!! This fic is so fun to read!! I laughed so hard at Nene and Hanako being awkward with each other!!! So you know how Hanako is super clingy with Nene, he’s always touching & hugging her, but this time something weird happens and he’s so distant~~ Nene doesn’t want to admit it at first, but she misses his clingy ghost boy~~ you’ll have a good time reading this for sure!  

The Monster's Bride by Hammsters ( @uglierdaikon )

Have you heard about the myth of Cupid and Psyche? Well this fic rewrites it in a very Hananene way <3 hehe I loved it so much (as I’m a huge fan of mythology~) To sum it up, Nene is fated to marry a monster that lives in the mountains so she’s devastated... to her surprise, her husband is far from what she expected... she only had one rule to obey and well... we all know how reckless Nene is so... you go find out what happens next now!! hehehe

Morning Reflections by FalalalaLa  ( @miss-sternennacht )

So you’ve heard of Hanako watching Nene sleep, but what about Nene watching Amane sleep???!! this fic offers you this and so much more fluff <3 Also Nene remembering how they met and how their relationship evolved during the years, aww <3 

Cursed Coin by DaikonSenpai  ( @daikonsenpai )

There’s a school dance, Yashiro’s supposed to be dancing with Kou (since she can’t go with Hanako, which causes him to be jelly~~ and bitter), but she loses a coin Aoi gave her for good luck so she goes out and searches for it on the last place she saw it, the school fountain. Suddenly Hanako spots her, what’s she doing outside??? is she drunk or something?? what happens next you may find out when you read it~~~

Between Love and Hope by Baronesscmd (SweeterThanYourDarkestSin) ( @baronesscmd )

Oh to be Nene and get to sleep between the Yugi twins... God really has favorites uh... ISTG, this collection of fics is so cute. I love how Nene loves the twins so much in this AU, they have their little cute family. She ofc is in love with Amane, but their relationship with Tsukasa is so tender... it’s mostly this trio having fluffy moments together to heal your soul... if you need some, you’ll get it here for sure hahaha. 

Ghost of You (And All the Futures We've Forgotten) by Indigo_Floof  milkteamoon  ( @indigosienna , @spades-queen )

So anon you may have been wondering, well this bitch likes fluff only???? how about some angst for a change, uh? DAMN, OKAY THEN, here you have some angst to rip your soul out and wish you never sent me this ask in the 1st place, bec of the emotional damage this fic will leave you sdajjsa, also if you liked “Erased”, you’ll love this fic too! 

Hanako of the Opera by zxrstan

Finally, but not less important, me being annoying about Hanako of the Opera & POTO AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! This fic is based of the AU Aidairo created mostly, it’s really fun to read if you didn’t get much of what was happening during the Hanako of the Opera event, it has a nice ending also! very satisfying I must say. 

AAAAND THIS IS THE END OF MY ALL TIME FAV LIST OMG;;;; Kudos for me for searching through all my damn AO3 and Google Chrome history (from both my PC and phone, since I am a FOOL and forgot my AO3 password so I read a lot of these in the past as a guest before recovering my password LMAO, please be patient with me omg, and also if you see me bookmarking them now, you know why 😭) 

Kudos to all of my writer homies as well, I love and appreciate all of you so much!! you have no idea! 💖

I hope you find this list useful, anon!! Thank you for sending me this ask and have a wonderful day! 

Ps. Please everyone feel free to add more fics to this list if you want! this is all my personal picks, but I’m aware there are a lot more fics that I haven’t read and deserve as much recognition as the ones I listed!

[sammy-gvf]

We get along (for the most part)

Chapter One.

OC x Lee Bodecker

Warnings: None for now. Just some cursing.

Plot : The local rebel badass girl and Lee Bodecker have had run ins, lets see how it goes, shall we? 

MINORS DNI !!!!! Eventually this story will get 18+. I dont feel like getting in trouble because of you. Thanks a bunch. 

Evan Rachel Wood ( Across the Universe 2007) 

( personally in my head this is what she would look like but you can interpret her anyway you want!)

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My name is Margaret Lane, well Maggy. 22. Born May 2nd 1947.

The resident bad girl, don't worry, I gave myself that nickname.

I have lived in this tiny, middle of nowhere town my entire life. Same people, same gossip.  There's no escape. No matter how hard I try, something always stops me. I live with my parents and little brother here in Knockemstiff, Ohio. My parents and I have a mutual understanding of “you go to work and come home and then we don't talk”, which is fine with me. My little brother is the only one I can really rely on. He is 17 years old and he is really the only person in my family that I can really talk to. I mean, I have friends but they aren't living in the same house as me. Not yet at least, we are thinking about moving out all together.

High school is where I built my reputation, of course. Used to sneak around with Arvin Russell, which led me to meet Lee Bodecker. Sneaky ass sheriff used to follow my every move, making sure he took every opportunity to bust Arvin and I any chance he got. 

Had nothing better to do than to bust on teenagers who were sneaking out to their parents, what a loser. Along with gaining some parking tickets and speeding tickets along the way, we became acquaintances. Thinking about the future, I was dying to leave this town. Never got the chance to after high school, hopefully I will as soon as i'm done college. 

 I can say whole heartedly that I do NOT enjoy Lee's presence. That man memorized my license plate number. Stops me all the time, for no reason. 

Flashback 

It was a warm saturday evening, about 7pm. I had just got some college work done. Figured it was too nice to just sit inside, right?

 I get up out of my bed and put my school stuff in my bag, walking over to my closet to put on a pretty yellow flowy dress and grab my leather jacket, that'll go nice with the breeze coming in through my window.

I put my hair up in a bun and slip on some keds, something easy ya know? 

I turn off the light in my room and walk into the living room where I see my father asleep on the couch, I walk over to the counter and grab a little piece of paper and write “going out for a drive, be back soon” and put in on the table in front of my father so if he wakes up, he knows where I went. 

I actually have a lot of freedom compared to other girls my age, many girls my age are looking for husbands and/or their parents are trying to set them up with someone. My parents know who I am, I was so against having an actual boyfriend so I just slept around. Obviously, people at church got wind of it but I didn't really care, to me men are there at my disposal. I play the field for my own reasons. 

I grab my keys off the door in the foyer of my little house and head outfront. 

I head down the steps of my house and waltz towards my red little 1964 Ford Mustang. Worked for it all by myself. 

Getting in the car, I pop a cigarette in my mouth and light it up. Keeping the cigarettes in my car was my best bet, my father would kill me if he knew I smoked these things. Turning on the car, I throw in a Led Zeppelin cassette, immediately Whole Lotta Love starts playing. What a good song to drive to. 

I put my windows down and start driving down a long road where I know for a fact no one drives this time of night, partly because they are afraid of the sheriff, Lee Bodecker. 

Lee doesn't scare you, never has. 

Blaring music at high volume was what you  were known for in these parts and you could really care less about the time and how loud you had it. Music is a really important part of your self expression. 

Speeding down the road, cigarette in my mouth screaming the lyrics 

You need cooling

Baby I'm not fooling

I'm gonna send ya

Back to schooling

A-way down inside

A-honey you need it

I'm gonna give you my love

I'm gonna give you my love

 I smile and listen to the lyrics, I feel like such a rebel. People in these parts don't listen to this type of music, devil music they call it. They think it has some deep down evil meaning. I just shake it off, they wouldn't know real music if they tried. 

 I could just leave right now if I wanted to. Drive out of town and start fresh, no one would miss me. Except my brother and friends. They are really the only people keeping me in this dead end town. 

The cool breeze enters your hair and you lose your hair tie. Fuck. 

“ Damn It”  You say as you put the cigarette down and try to look to see where it went. It's nowhere in sight. 

“ I have to pull over to get this thing” you think to youtself. It's the only hair tie you own right now.

you light another cigarette and pull my car over to a slightly darker side of the road. You get out of the car and start searching for my hair band, it had to have fallen behind your seat. 

 Of course, you saw familiar blue and red lights pull up right behind me.

“Fuck me” you mutter as you turn around, shut the car door, kick the dirt under your feet and lean up against the car , patiently waiting for Lee to take his good ol time walking to me.

Lee exits his police cruiser wearing the typical uniform with the typical toothpick in his mouth.

You watch him as he slowly strides over towards you and You roll your eyes at him as he eyes you down, prick.

“Well, well, well, Ms. Lane. Fancy to see you here.” Lee says smirking and laying one hand on your car's trunk. You scoff at him.

“ Hands off the car, Bodecker. Thought you'd know better than to touch what's not yours.” You say looking over at him, taking a drag of your cigarette. Lee scoffs and walks over to you, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and crushing it with his shoe. Your jaw drops and you look over at him in disgust as he chuckles at your reaction to his doing.

“Pretty little ladies like you shouldnt be smokin these, could make ya look ugly” He says. 

You can smell the tobacco smell coming off him, the smell of mints sticking to his breath. He is a little closer to you now, you back up and grab your pack of cigarettes out of the cup holder in your car. Bending over, the sheriff gets a nice view of your backside for a split second.  

“Sheriff, I would like to respectfully say I do not give a fuck what a man thinks about how I look smoking a cigarette, I am not here for a mans enjoyment. Also, one more pet name and I'm telling your wife.” you say as you light another cigarette and the sound of Led Zeppelin is lingering in the background, Lee clicks his tongue and looks over at you.

“Ms.Lane, you have quite the mouth on you. Not very ladylike for a woman your age.” Lee takes his hat off and leans against your car. He lights a cigarette and stands there for a minute. You look at him confused and you roll your eyes. 

“Lee, besides bothering me, do you have a purpose being here right now?” You look at him and say while you take a drag of your cigarette. Lee looks over to you and laughs. 

“Well, I just seen a car parked all by itself on the side of the road and I was on duty anyways but then I saw your license plate and figured I'd see why you, little lady, are out all by yourself at this time of night.” Lee says throwing his cigarette on the dirt ground below him. 

You turn to look at him and finish your cigarette, leaning against the car still.

“ I appreciate your concern, Bodecker. I am just out for a drive and pulled over to find my hair tie, it came out while I was driving. Pulled over to look around for it, don't want my hair in my face while I am driving. Also, not a little lady. I am grown.” You say turning away from Lee and finding your hair tie, you turn to Lee while tying your hair up, smirking you say

“ Goodnight Officer,also don't follow me again, yeah?” You say climbing back into your car and you slowly pull away.

Lee stands there watching as you climb back into your car, the smell of your perfume in the air invades his lungs, dumbfounded, he smirks and laughs to himself. 

“Smart girl” Lee says as he smirks and turns to go back to his cruiser.

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You had noticed sometime down the road that there was a car following you with no lights on, you had just assumed it was some random person but with one certain lick of light you saw the sheriff's face in the mirror of your car mirror. Figuring that out, you went a little faster down the road and then you lost your hair tie, you knew what was coming. 

You look in the car mirror to look at Lee. He's already turned his car around and started driving the other way. You werent dumb, you know from the years of Lee catching you sneaking out and drinking and or having boys in your car as a young girl, he knows your moves. It makes you think he patrols these parts so he can catch you doing something dumb one day just to cuff you up and get some control. He never does. 

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 Two people with reputations in this town. 

 How bad can it get?

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Hi everyone! Welcome to my first fic! Lee Bodecker is quite the character and I have been wanting to write him for a while. Dont forget to leave some opinons so I can know what yall would want to possibly happen! Dont forget to like/reblog! It would mean the world. I am not sure about my posting schedule but itll most likely be once or twice a week! also let me know if youd like to be added to my tags so I can let you know when I post another chapter! 

Tags- @please-buckme , @ladyfallonavenger , @buckysdolls , @nerdy-depressed , @do-not-pray-for-me , @unsentlettersandmore , @local-spacegirl , @youcancallmeishita , @not-another-fangirl​ , @angelicbabydolll

[orbitalvoyager]

A Medic’s Guide to Medical Writing (EMT vs. Paramedic)

⤹ or, in which bex gives you the fundamentals of the roles of medics

⤹ read the other entries of “ A Medic’s Guide to Medical Writing”

Hello, my name is Bex and I am a nationally registered and licensed paramedic within the US. For a while now, I have been debating writing what I like to call “guides” for writers to help them with accurately writing about medical knowledge. Would it be used? Would it even be helpful? But, after a brief conversation with @btssavedmylifeblr​ I got my answer. She helped me make a finally decision (even if she didn’t realize it). 

Even if just one person reads this, I think it will open up a new line of thinking for that one individual. Emergency Medical Services is a hard line of work, but it’s necessary. To be a lifesaver is a 24/7 job. Even when you’re off the clock, you’re really not. And if I can help even one person understand medical terminology better and open their minds to the idea of “how can I provide help to my fellow humans in an emergency situation”, then I’m doing my job. 

All of that being said, let us begin with the most basic concept I see neglected:

The most common mistake I see in writing is the confusion when it comes to the difference between an EMT and a Paramedic. There is a difference, and it’s a very common mistake since there isn’t a lot of information out there on what the difference actually is. In fact, before I started my medical training, EMT and paramedic were synonymous with each other.  An EMT is what is known as a BLS, or a Basic Life Saver. These individuals are trained, yes, but they are limited in the skills they can perform. A Paramedic is called an ASL or Advance Life Saver; these are the medics that people write about typically! Paramedics can do the fancy things like administer narcotics and medications (besides aspirin, nitro, EpiPens and glucose which EMTs are allowed to administer) and they are the ones who can perform cricothyrotomy. This is something I wanted to make clear before I begin.

EMT

⤹ you must complete an EMT training course to become a paramedic

⤹depending on the location and country, EMTs can have training from 120 up to 300 hours

⤹EMTs not only work with amublance services, but they also assist in hospitals and hospice locations

⤹they cannot perform any sort of medical intervention that involves the breaking of skin (ie, IVs, medications that require needle administration, etc). this is the biggest mistake I see writers make, if you have any of your characters starting an IV or doing the dramatic stab to the chest to relieve a tension pneumothorax (and that is still not entirely accurate), they are a Paramedic. an EMT can get sued for doing anything like that. However, administering EpiPens does not apply to this

⤹ an EMTs primary job is to: make sure the ambulance is stocked and all the equipment is fully functioning and charged, evaluating a patient to determine is ALS if needed, tending to less critical patients so a paramedic can focus on the person who needs the most help, making sure your scene is safe for you, your partner, and your patient, and watching out for their paramedics partner — my own EMT put it in simple terms when I asked her about watching my back- “you know how to bring someone back from the brink of death, but none of you know how to watch where you step” And never was a more accurate statement said. 

PARAMEDICS

⤹1,200 to 1,800 hours of training which can last up to 18 to 24 months

⤹ they can also assist in hospitals and many paramedics I know (including me) work in ERs from time to time

⤹ the skills that paramedics use are built upon the skills that EMTs use, you cannot have a paramedic who wasn’t an EMT. 

⤹ paramedics are trained to know types, amounts, routes of administration, indications vs contraindications of medications. no matter what time of medication is being administered (even just an aspirin) must be approved by medical control

⤹ they can perform a cricothyrotomy , insert IVs and ultimately break the skin of a patient

⤹ paramedics are what EMS likes to call “the big guns”. if a paramedic is getting called to a scene, the patient is not well. and once a paramedic is on scene, they are in charge; the EMT becomes the paramedic’s third and fourth hands

These are just basic things I felt the need to point out. Understanding the roles of specific medics is important to add that little hint of authenticity to your writing, but I know it’s hard to find someone who knows what the heck they’re talking about. And please understand that this is just a helpful guide, you by no means have to follow anything that I say, I just want to help out writers to the best of my ability. Is there still good fics out there that are medically inaccurate, YES. But for writers like me, I am a stickler for getting as much accurate information as possible. 

Feel free to ask any questions, and I’ll answer them to the best of my ability! 

[eatfishies]

champagne problems

summary: “Your mom’s ring in your pocket, my picture in your wallet, your heart was glass, I dropped it. Champagne problems.” note: features time skip! kageyama. all characters in the present timeline is 21+. slight spoilers from the manga. fem! reader. she/her pronouns. song: champagne problems by taylor swift word count: 1,800 words warnings: alchohol use genre: angst arthie’s note: a fic for the capricorn baby ~~ happy birthday kags!! initially i didn’t plan this out however i’ve been listening to taylor’s new album on repeat and one of my favs from her album is the song “champagne problems” hence the title *wink wink* anyways, this is rlly sad and i hope all of you like this as much as i like writing it hehe ~~ ♡(｡- ω -) ↳ main masterlist ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ Hugging herself tightly, clutching onto the thick jacket to shield herself from the chilliness, watching as the pearly white snow cascade onto the wooden floor, evaporating into liquid. “Y/n?” He calls out making her head turned, gazing at him fondly. He walked towards her, handing a glass of champagne which she thanked for the gesture. They both indulged in the alcoholic drink as they watch the snowfield scenery before them. It was Christmas Eve and they just had gone and celebrate Kageyama’s 24th birthday. After bidding farewells to their guests, the couple took the time to unwind outside their rented vacation home, sitting atop of the snowy mountain. Kageyama had insisted to stay here for a few weeks until Christmas or possibly till New Year’s. Now that they had the house all to themselves, he couldn’t help but feel more anxious as time goes by, side-eyeing his lover who seemed to be immersed on admiring the beautiful frosty landscape from a distance.

He had memorized the details of his properly thought-out plan, wishing all of his luck that nothing ruins it. God, knows how long he spent dwelling over it and fretting about the worst possible outcomes that could come out of this. However, his friends had reassured him multiple times that it would go as smoothly as he hopes it to be. Feeling the presence beside him made him fully aware of how in awe he is with her, his ethereal partner who is ever-so kind, thoughtful, supportive, patient and understanding of every part of him. She even knows how to manage his short-temper and often gives him space whenever he needed it. Looking back on their relationship definitely confirmed of how utterly in love he is with her. Shaking his head, quickly diminishing any thoughts that would turn into a session of overthinking— he gently intertwines their fingers together, the cold emitting off of her as she blinks at him innocently. “Babe, are you okay?” She asked, concerned underneath her tired, soft voice. He gave her a small smile, gripping her hand to assure her, “I just feel lucky to have you.” That caused her to broke into fits of laughter, he furrowed his brows. “What’s so funny about me confessing what I truly feel?” She can hear the tiny hurt evident in his voice. She cooed, caressing his cheek, “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just.. so weird of you to suddenly make a proclaim that you love me when you’re usually so standoffish.” He averted his gaze, pondering over her words. Quickly sensing that he might go into overthinking mode, she held his face, staring into his crystal azure eyes. “Kageyama Tobio.” She started off, watching him gape at her. “You are the most loving person ever. It doesn’t matter that you don’t often express your emotions but your actions speaks louder than those words. So please, don’t be sadden over what I said. It’s a part of you that made me love you and I don’t mind that at all. In fact; I love every single thing about you.” Hearing those affirmations made his heart sparked with elation, gingerly bringing their faces close as he tasted her lips that escalated into something more as he drowns himself in her love with the tang of champagne filling up his mouth every time he kissed her. He’s so desperately, maddeningly, in love with her. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ The bright sun peeked beneath the curtains, signalling them to wake and start their day. He awoken to a pair of arms wrapped around him, soft breathing from his lover as she sleeps peacefully. He smiled, gleeful of her declaration and what the future has in store for the both of them. Carefully removing himself from her embrace, he walked towards the kitchen, preparing them both breakfast before heading out. They took the train to visit their families, beaming at everyone and its cheerful atmosphere that makes him feel warm. He recalls the moment he told his family about his “plan”, they were all thrilled and couldn’t wait to hear the news. Her family had been delighted as well, noting that they were both good for each other and is a perfect couple. Knowing that he has permission to make his move, he feels himself getting more eager to execute his plan. The reunion with families had left him content and all of the anxiousness is slowly dissipating away as they strolled around the park, stopping at the middle where a massive Christmas tree was placed, decorated with glimmering ornaments and festive lights all around. It makes the ambience more fitting with what he’s about to do. Throughout the entire day, he had observed his partner, imprinting her facial expressions into his mind and the way she communicates. Kageyama has always been observant— he just paid extra attention to his lover than anything else (except volleyball). He knew she is the one when she didn’t fuss or get annoyed with his obsession over volleyball even if his career comes first, she never minded and persuaded him to go follow his dreams. He reciprocated that with her too; often checking on her to make sure that she doesn’t overwork herself and celebrated every milestone and promotions she achieved. He knew how important it is to her for her ambitions to come first; they’re both alike yet different in many ways which makes them work well together. Her eyes gazes at the bright lights, awe of the stunning decorations. He fidgets with the box inside his coat pocket, biting his lip as he tries to shake off the anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. With his heart hammering against his chest, he bent down to one knee and pulls the box out of his pocket. Noticing his actions, she widened at the sight of him. He opens the box, revealing a dazzling gold ring. She covers her mouth, stunned. He exhaled, staring at her with so much honesty and love. “Y/n… we’ve been together for the past couple of years. You’ve stuck with me even through all the highs and lows. You comforted me during hard times and knows how to deal with my sensitive yet childish behaviours. You never once doubted my love for you and supported me through all of my endeavours. You were never upset with how ambitious I am for volleyball and always cheer for me throughout every game I’ve had. You made me the happiest person alive and God knows how much I love you with all my heart. I’m never one to rightfully express what I truly feel therefore here I am, pouring all of my feelings for you. With that being said, will you marry me?” Tears prickled on her eyes as she stared at the man whom she knew she loved… yet she doesn’t feel right by saying yes. With a shaky breath, she solemnly responds. “No.” Shocked upon her answer, he looked up at her in disbelief. Hurt plastered all across his face as he slowly stood up. He inched closer, “What do you mean… no?” He whispered, his voice brittle due to her statement as he can feel the void inside his chest. Breaking off the gaze, she closed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry Tobio but.. no. I can’t. I’m not ready for it.” She admitted, scared of his reaction as she gripped her jacket tightly. “I— you could’ve just told me. I would wait for you and—“ “No. Tobio just.. please don’t make this harder than it already is.” She cuts him off. “I’m sorry but I can never see myself being tied to someone.” He can feel the ache in his heart, “Even me?” He asked painfully. Finally opening her eyes, she nodded sullenly. “Yes.”  She gently holds his face, pulling him into a chaste kiss. “Goodbye, Tobio. I’m sorry.” With that, he lets her hand fall just like how she lets his heart shatter against the floor, as she disappears into the sea of strangers. The crowds bustling around him as he feel his heart broke into a thousand pieces. The ringing of his phone startled him from his stupor, he answered it without needing to check. “Mom.. she said no.” He breaks the news forlornly, allowing the tears that he held back stream down his cheeks as his chest ache dreadfully. The night had never seemed so dull for him as he lies his head against the train window, watching the constellations dim from blazing so brightly. He cried and cried until he couldn’t. He didn’t care if anybody stared at him sympathetically, all he knew and felt on this somber night is heartbreak, swallowing him whole as her crestfallen response plays in his head over and over again. He can tell from the moment he stepped inside their once-shared house that she had left and brought all of her belongings with her. Officially leaving him to wallow in his own sorrow. The box which the ring sits prettily at is tossed aside, he considers burning it or throwing it away but decided against it as the ring belongs to his mother whom got engaged with the said band.  A picture of her grinning happily as the wind blows her hair is tucked safely in his wallet, he glared at the memory before casting it into the fire, watching it burn and turn into dust. From that night— he closed himself off from everyone nor did he ever catch a sight of her again. It was as if she had vanished into thin air or perhaps she moved to a new country. He stored away all of the memories they had with each other into the back of his mind, never wanting to relive it. Years had flew by and he not once got an answer or a hint as to why she had so readily rejected his proposal. He long accepted their fate and the love they once shared was nothing but a memory of the past. She was just a stranger he used to loved. As he makes his way towards the figure standing in front of him, he smiled and bent down, reenacting the bitter scene yet again. His new lover sobbed happily as she joyfully accepted his proposal. Her picture in his wallet as he slips the ring onto her dainty finger, noting her wide grin. Little did he knew— his past lover is observing the scene from afar, smiling sadly at the exchange. She sighed, knowing that she deserved to be hated for what she did as she walks away, wishing them nothing but the best for their future.  Maybe someday, she can tell the tale of someone who was dear to her to her grandchildren and to never make the same mistake as she did. 

[greycappedjester]

Since I log the fanfictions I read, I’m realizing that June 19th marks the first day I read one of your fics! I read All in the Cards and was blown away by the storyline. Then, I continued to read your HQ series, the other cards fics, and your Dr.STONE fic too. I want to read your DC fics as well. I don’t know much background on it though, so I’m working on it. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate your writing and how it has honestly made this past year a lot better. With all that being said though, what’s your favorite thing/theme to write in each of your individual series? Like world building, relationships, etc.? Also, what inspired you to write in the first place?

Ahhh, thank you so much! This is honestly such a sweet ask and I am so, so glad that I could make your year better.

For what's my favorite thing/theme to write in each series, that's a tough one as a lot of times in changes; but, after thinking about it, I think these are my favorite things overall for each....

(I also thought I'd do something fun and put what my favorite line to write was in the last few chapters for the ongoing works. I always wonder what lines are people's favorite so figured it would be fun to add mine)

Hq at Hogwarts: I really love writing Oikawa and Hinata's relationship. Which is kinda an odd thing to say since they purposefully only have a few conversations spread out through each story. But, they're my two favorite Hq characters to write hands down and so I absolutely love showing them as foils to each other in the series. That said, I also love writing them (and especially Oikawa and Suga) as foils/parallels to the Giant and Hisashi (Suga's grandfather). I love both foil relationships and writing parallels between generations--especially if the next generation is completely unaware/uninformed of the previous generation's mistakes

Favorite Recent Line to Write: Kenma met his eyes and his voice broke: “Why am I the only one you have to hide?”

*Note: Okay, technically not the most recent chapter but fun fact: I wrote the Kuroo/Kenma conversation waaaay in advance and used it a lot as a reference to where I wanted this relationship to be headed and I viewed this line as one of the biggest break points (along with "I am waiting" from the dance)

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Cards: This one is the most tricky for me to think of one since it changes a lot. I love doing the world building for this one (like the huge long time line I have for the history of the country). I love writing fantasy politics. As I consider a Hearts Civil War story more, I'm getting back into the groove of just really love writing Oikawa's complicated relationship with being King. And, of course, I love writing Tsuksihima and Hinata's relationship

Favorite Recent Line to Write: Oikawa swept across the office, never seeming to pause for even a second as he pointed a quill at Iwaizumi. “So, tell me, are invasions just like a semi-annual thing?”

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The Hq/Scooby-Doo AU (Investigations Inc.): the humor and banter

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Walking With My Eyes Open: I think this might be my favorite romance thing I've ever written. I really, really wanted to show a view of romance that emphasized the choice to be in love (and the work that goes into a functioning relationship). I especially wanted to do this with Hanahaki since this trope is so tied to the forfeit of choice on the patient's end and the inherent unfairness/weight on the person they're in love with. Couldn't imagine it with any other characters but Senkuu and Gen tbh.

Favorite Recent Line to Write: But, human shoulders weren’t meant to bear the expectations of divinity.

*Note: Lol, this scene got cut and reworded so many dang times in editing, the one thing that stayed consistently I feel like is me really wanting to keep this specific line

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After the Fall of Olympus: Three things and I find it really hard to pick which one is my favorite.

(1) I love that this story format lets me show the slow growth/aging of Dick as a character and (I hope) that each chapter shows how he's grown to the point that Dick at age 14 in Ch. 1 is noticeably younger in internal monologue than Dick in his 20s in the latest chapter.

(2) I love writing tricky political/social issues where all characters have their points and there truly is no write answer...with that, I love writing Dick and Jay Garrick's relationship.

(3) If I had to pick, I don't know if it's my favorite but I think it's the most important element of the story. I very much wanted to show a more realistic view of grief where it feels like the world ended; but, it's not actually an apocalypse. They recover. At the start of the story, it is without a doubt the lowest/most devastating point, but they rebuild. It's slow and there's set backs but they are rebuilding a world that isn't (and shouldn't be) the same but is there and is new and is important. I know a lot of stories that focus on grief view it as a tragedy and an end which it is in a huge way. There's the phrase "it gets better" but a lot of times I think it's viewed as "things will go back to what they used to be" which is understandably hard for people to believe because a lot of times, it fundamentally is impossible for what's lost to be regained. That doesn't mean it's the end of everything. I think sometimes we forget that the previous world (be it actual in this story or what feels like the entire world) may not exist anymore but something different can still be built. The new world and old should never be compared because they can't be. It won't be the same. But, it can be good and they can be happy.

Which is honestly the recovery of what Dick Grayson, to me, should represent rather than the constant grief/vengeance of Batman.

Favorite Recent Line to Write (technically the last line here, just doesn't make sense out of context)

“You need someone with you. I’m not just leaving you alone!” Selina shouts.

“No? Why not?” Dick spits back. “You’re so good at it !”

Selina flinches back and Dick is viciously, painfully glad.

“You don’t get to care just when it’s convenient, Selina,” he says and it hurts, a wound that’s never going to heal. “I needed someone eight years ago. I needed someone when Bruce died, when Batman was gone, and the city was falling apart, and you weren’t there. You didn’t call. You didn’t check on me. You didn’t even say bye. And that’s fine. I lived, I rebuilt it.”

He steps away. “But, you don’t get to come back now and pretend it never happened. I don’t have to let you just because it hurts either way.”

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Flash Facts of Bart Allen: Lol, what might be my least popular but in my opinion best written story. Favorite thing is Bart and Len's relationship hands down, followed by showing Bart's relationship with how he navigates the weight of the Flash legacy while feeling like he's fundamentally different than the Flashes that came before.

Partly since this is getting so long and partly because personal story, I'm putting why I started writing under the break.

I started writing for a lot of reasons.

My first fic--and the first book I ever finished--was the first Hq at Hogwarts story (Mirror of Erised). For background, I started the story when I was in my first year of getting my master's degree (which was surprisingly a lot less busy than my undergrad for a number of reasons but me getting sidetracked into that is a whole other ask about grad school).

My first reason I started writing was that I had more time. I'd had the idea for the story for years; but, I finally had enough details that I was like "okay, now, I gotta write it" so I did. I'll say exactly what the final straw was when I actually get the series finished since it's a major spoiler.

My second reason probably didn't consciously occur to me at the time but is what I consider the most important reason I write and continue to write. I fundamentally want to write stories that make people's days better. It doesn't have to be anything big; I just really wanted to write the kind of story that people could get lost in for a few hours when they're scrolling through AO3 and looking for a distraction. I wanted to write something with happy endings.

Here's the more personal part. I really don't mean this in a sad way so please don't take it as such. However, when I started writing and posting, my dad had just died completely unexpectedly a few months earlier and right before I had to move cross country for masters. It was definitely a hard time (though I had friends and a good support network, again please don't worry--it was years ago now). But, writing then definitely helped me be in a positive happy attitude while thinking of plots and friendships in my favorite anime that always puts be in a better mood.

My point here is that while that was never the reason that I wrote, it's something I reflect on a lot for why fanfic can be such a positive force. Someone can have either the worst day ever, a mildly inconvenient day, or a perfectly fine day and still want distraction. To have a community with both writers and readers interested in the things you're interested in. To have a site where fic can be easily shared and for free. There's something just wonderful about that.

So, most of all, why I write: I want to show people that care about each other. I want to make someone's day better and often that day is mine.

That's really all there is to it.

[official-weasley]

You sure do write amazing! Can you please give me some tips on how to write better?

Thanks!

Hi!

First of all, thank you, it means a lot! 🥰

Second of all thank you for the ask. This is my first one so I hope I am doing this properly.

Third of all READ. I would say everything but it's too broad. Read what you're writing. If you're writing fanfic read those. I have learned so much from reading other stories. Also, try and find your own style...if you think it sounds hard it is. I needed years. I was always writing in third person POV and I always felt like something was missing. I find something magical in the fact that you can read a story from first person POV, because you feel like you get to know them better and that you are friends and build a relationship with a character.

I read a few books (Divergent trilogy among them) with first-person POV and I was hooked. It's okay to love someone's writing or their style but while reading them think of WHY you love their style so much and try to implement those characteristics into your writing. Don't worry about sounding similar to someone else. You won't. Each writer's style is unique and at first, it might seem like copying but you will soon develop your own style which will be your own. Copying is learning but do give credit where needed. Also, don't be afraid to experiment with different styles. Nothing you write is wrong. If you keep saying to yourself that your writing can't be right because nobody else is doing it, meaning it isn't following the rules it means you created something entirely yours and I think that is BEAUTIFUL and smart not wrong.

Try to think about what is the most important thing you want to point out in your story. To me, I don't like to read long descriptions of how people and places look like. To me, it's redundant because I have a crazy imagination and I love to create all of that for the characters myself and I like the liberty that I think how a character I am reading about looks like. Think about what is important to you when you write. To me, it's relationships between characters and I tend to focus on that the most.

When it comes to vocabulary I can't be of much help. I suck at it. I am not a native English speaker and finding synonyms or describing a gesture or how a character's expression looks like I struggle every time and it takes the most of my time to do that. It helps to have websites that can help you find these. I have a dictionary for words that I want to translate from my native language. And I have Google always opened to search for word definitions and I saw someone post a website here on Tumblr which has honestly been a lifesaver: onelook.com/thesaurus

Also, one thing that I have noticed helps me a lot is that I write without stopping as much as possible so that the story stays on the original idea line as much as it possibly can. So if you sit down to write a chapter, just do it...no distractions. Don't write a paragraph and go on your phone and then return. Stick to it, it will be better trust me: learn from my mistakes. (Of course, if you have a heavy, emotion-filled chapter like someone dying and you cry while writing...then please do take a break. I needed a week to write Chapter 6 and 7 of Part 8 of the story I am posting now because I was a crying mess and I simply couldn't break my heart more than I did per day). Then I read it and change what I want quickly. Then I run it through Grammarly then I reread it a few more times. Within these times I mark the words or paragraphs which should have different words for what I am describing or where I feel something is missing. I come back to those parts and try searching for different words or instances that can relate to what I have written down.

I also triple-check that I don't have words that repeat. So if I had said said said a few times I will skip it and indicate who is speaking with a gesture they do while saying something. That helps me a lot because I like to repeat words I like a lot!

One thing that I learned is that it doesn't matter how you write as long as you enjoy it. If you write a chapter and you read through it and it makes you smile you have won no matter how it looks in the first draft. Learning to love everything you write is so important and until I had that I thought that my writing sucks and I will never get anywhere.

And yes, I will say it: JUST WRITE MORE. I know it's the biggest cliché but it's true. Also, be patient with yourself and give yourself credit. I always thought that I will never get any better and will always be stuck at the level of writing I have but if I read something I wrote like 7 years ago...even like a year ago, the difference is HUGE and it makes me proud and you should do that as well. Read that cringy story you wrote years ago because it gives a confidence boost when you compare it to your writing now and you see how much you progressed.

ALSO, one thing that helped me a lot and I wish I was doing this sooner (as I just started with the story I am posting now): when you're reading ANYTHING and you find a word or a phrase that intrigues you and you think you could use it at any time in your stories WRITE IT DOWN. If you don't know the meaning write the meaning next to it too. If you have examples where you could use it (your ideas) write that next to it. It has saved me so many times with the story I finished a few weeks ago (and will post it after the ongoing one is finished) because sometimes I see a character doing a gesture or making a certain face in my head and I struggle to describe what I see in my head and having phrases that I read elsewhere written down is so helpful because more you read and you get different ideas how to describe the same thing it's so nice when you find just the right one!

One of the last tips as this is getting too long (I don't know how to describe something in a short sentence): when you get an idea for a story don't just sit down and start writing the first chapter because (and I am talking from my own experience) sooner or later you will get lost, you will get the information wrong and it's just harder for you. What I tend to do is write down all the names of the main characters and write at least 3 things that stand out for them and you might use more than once in your story. For example, if a character gets a gift from someone; write it down WHEN AND WHAT AND FROM WHO. Because if you mention that gift again 20 chapters later you will get frustrated because you won't find that little detail that suddenly became so important and if you have notes and you can find it at once it makes things easier. I also write down chapter summaries. I know it might be hard to know exactly how many chapters you will have (it usually changes for me anyway: for example, the story I will post soon went from the original 10 to 20 chapters because the chapters were just too long and I needed to separate them) or to know at once how the story ends but it makes things 10 times easier and once you start writing chapters down the story just starts to flow and appear in front of you and knowing what you will write about next makes you more focused on the chapter at hand and everything seems more connected and you don't have gaps in your story and inconsistencies. At least for me, it's really easy because I like to push myself to write a chapter per day and I just take my notebook and check what I have to write for that day and then it's suddenly easier because I can just focus on writing the chapter instead of thinking of what to do next.

Of course, all that I just wrote is just an opinion. You should write as you see fit! Don't let anyone tell you that you CAN'T do this or that. It's YOUR writing. YOUR story. You can do whatever you want and write it in the way YOU want. Don't write by the rule book. Write in a way that will make you happy. I have to admit I needed a long time to learn that as I always wanted to follow the rules but I was unhappy and I didn't like what I wrote and I put that on myself thinking my writing is bad when it was just the fact that the style and the rules around it weren't my cup of tea.

Also if you have someone who can read through what you've written and you trust them; give them your story or chapters before you publish them because every story through someone else's eyes is better already. Also, don't be afraid of feedback and criticism. I have never learned more from anything else than criticism. And always take it as positive; a way to better your story and writing. But also know that you don't always have to apply everything someone tells you to do. If you are content with how it is, leave it. Perhaps remember the critique and maybe you'll be able to apply it to a different story. That's how you grow.

Push yourself to write as much as you can. Even if it's a paragraph per day it's something. And most importantly write what you like not what everyone else is doing. If you want to write 30 fics about the same character then do so as long as it brings you joy and makes you happy because no matter how cheesy it sounds it does show in your writing. ❤

I hope I answered your question at least to some degree. I am sorry it's so long I don't know how to write short stuff 🙈

If you have any other questions I would be happy to answer them 🥰

[toxicpineapple]

now im just curious abt rantaros relationships w the v3 cast.... mwahaha spill everything 🦟🦗🦟

hi anon! sorry for taking so log to reply to this, i knew i’d have a lot to say and i didn’t have the spoons to go off until now. FLKDJSFLkj here we go!

hehe! okay. so just as a preface, i’m like. REALLY into rantaro pairings. like. the only rantaro pairings i don’t like all that much are am*cha, rantaro/himiko, amaguuji (sorry lgbt community), and ranmugi. the rest i’m either open to or obsessed with. so like. bear that in mind when you read this.

i’m going to rank rantaro relationships by how much i love them so i can get an order to this (and also so i can do amamota last because i have a lot to say).

rantaro + korekiyo (2.5/10) oh gosh. kiyo, i’m so sorry a dumb bitch like me would do you like this. listen, amaguuji is a good pairing, just, objectively. i used to be super into it. but then the fandom crabwalked all over me with their amaguuji hurt/comfort fics and i got so Tired of seeing rantaro get treated like a security blacket... eugh. amaguuji is a good ship. i have written amaguuji, and would write it again, without prompting. i’m just... so tired.

they’d get along! obviously they would get along, we’ve seen their canon interactions, we’ve all slurped up as much rantaro tdp content as we were able to get, we know the tea. rantaro is passive and not easily creeped out, so he’d be able to look past all the unsettling things about kiyo, and similarly, kiyo is understanding and not pushy, so rantaro would be able to vibe around him without being asked about his secrets, or his travels, or anything that he doesn’t want anybody else to know. i like the aesthetic of them sitting around and drinking tea together, just, vibing like bros. kiyo infodumps to rantaro. rantaro fucking loves it. they’re best friends.

also like. they travel together. or whatever.

rantaro + kiibo (4/10) to be clear, i’m like, they’re cute, it’s just. i don’t have very strong opinions on kiibo as a whole FLKDJSFKLJDSFKDF kiibo is one of those characters who i kind of close my eyes on because to me he is just, he is very boring! he is very boring and i am so sorry to the kiibo stans who follow me, i have so much respect for you, i just have never had a kiibo thought in my life. they’re fun to write, though, i’ll tell you that.

kiibo is one of those characters who i think engages with you based on how you engage with him. i don’t mean that he’s a code switcher, (at least not a notorious one), but he’s emotional, and he’ll give back as much as you put in. if you treat him poorly, he’ll respond with anger and indignity. if you treat him with kindness and respect, he’ll respond similarly. which is why i think he and rantaro would really get along! rantaro is relaxed and kind and non-judgmental, and kiibo is the kind of person who needs chill vibes, so i think they’d have a lot of fun hanging out. rantaro is also the type of guy to get his friends a lot of gifts, and i think kiibo would be overwhelmed at like, the thoughtfulness that goes into that, and would grow really fond of rantaro accordingly. they’re sweet! amiibo rights, even if the first time i saw it my gut reaction was “wait, huh?”

rantaro + ryoma (5/10) this is another one of those ones where the rating was cucked because i don’t see a lot of them interacting and there’s not enough fandom content for me to really be in love with it. five is like, a solid neutral rating. i could swing either way. probably more for the positive though; i fucking love ryoma.

another one of those duos where they kind of just, vibe. honestly i don’t know if they’d get too close, if only because rantaro is gone so often he doesn’t really have the time to work on tearing down ryoma’s walls, and ryoma similarly is so tired he’s like, he doesn’t have the energy to try and figure out what the fuck is up with rantaro. unlike with amamota, rantaro and ryoma both have things that trouble them from their past, but the difference is that like, ryoma is so open about it? he’s not closed off. he won’t let people get close, but sure, he’ll tell them exactly why they shouldn’t. rantaro is the complete opposite, all sunny smiles and subject changes. this isn’t to say that they wouldn’t get along! i think they’d get along fantastically. sometimes when rantaro is just feeling so fucking tired, he’d pop by ryoma’s dorm for a candy cigarette and a casual conversation, and they’d chill. or maybe rantaro tells people to let ryoma have his space sometimes. just. vibing in solidarity. they’re bros! they’re bros.

and sometimes they kis--

rantaro + miu (6/10) full disclosure: i love them. leila i am so sorry that a dumb bitch like me would do this friendship like this. i’m just looking at the list and thinking “oh no i love them all” and when it comes to like, my favourite characters, unfortunately, miu had to go on the chopping block. i love them. feel like shit just want egg rp miu and rantaro back.

god! this is another one of those where like, rantaro isn’t judgmental (but he is firm!) so he and miu would get along really well. rantaro is really patient and he like, goes with the flow, so he and miu would be able to have conversations and he’d either shut down or tune out the sex jokes, actually carrying the conversation based on what she’s saying. miu is pretty chill, like, at least i feel like she’d be a really chill friend? so rantaro would be able to make insensitive jokes about how he just got stabbed and miu would be like “KYAHAHAHA you’re such a fuckin moron come to my lab i’ll make you a drink or some shit” and they’d just be cool. they’d just be cool! i want them to be best friends. please. just. two pals who spill tea and come to each other to make dark jokes. also miu cries into rantaro’s shoulder sometimes and he braids her hair fuck you i doooo what i want.

also sometimes they k--

rantaro + gonta (7/10) hey! it’s SO fucking homophobic that the only amagoku fic on ao3 is fucking porn! i hate it here can you please give me some actual food? please? i’m dying. i’m dying here and you’re doing me like this. these two have so many rights! they have so many rights. i just, two special boys? thank you. thank you for them. i care them. if there was more fucking CONTENT for these two i would have given them a higher rating but i guess! i’ll fucking die!

damn i’m actually like... really tender, thinking about them. i just think they could take care of each other! that’s all. i feel like rantaro would be really patient with gonta but he would also treat him like! a real, intelligent person! idk! like not infantalise him despite being sweet and comforting. i don’t know! i think that’s important can you guys STOOOOP infantalising coded autistic characters that would be really sweet </3 but anyway. i headcanon that rantaro likes insects! or at least, he thinks they’re pretty neat! he thinks they’re neat and he likes them and even more than that he likes listening to gonta info dump, it’s just, it’s important. idk. i think rantaro would be really psyched by how excited gonta gets about insects, and of course gonta would be thrilled to have a friend who wants to talk to his insect friends.... hhhhHhh... and of course gonta would take care of rantaro, too, just, he’d respect rantaro’s boundaries and not ask him any questions, he’d offer space and let rantaro just, exist, and be. gonta is soft and he gives good hugs! and i think that he would just be able to let rantaro cry one out on his shoulder and that’s SO important to me.

also gonta is such a sweetheart so it would be like, hard, for rantaro to lie about stuff? i dunno, like, he’d do okay, and then gonta would ask him a question or something and rantaro would be hit with the Guilts... also like, rantaro employs a mix of like, slight coldness, and airheaded subject changes in making people back off, and i doubt he could really do that with gonta. why would you!!! he’s a soft man, just the softest!!!! these two soft green men :) i care them so fucking much can you imagine rantaro taking gonta to places to see bugs PLEASE they have so much potential can we fucking talk about this

rantaro + tenko (7/10) this one would be higher, but i deducted points because of how the fandom always sees rantaro as “fixing” tenko’s man hatred. that’s literally so gross can you shut up? please? i hate? men?

okay n e wayz. i like them! i think they’re neat, i think they’d be great friends... eventually LFKDJLKDSF like listen, okay? i think tenko really does have real fear of men. think about her backstory, like, her master dripping poison in her ear all her childhood, and then the way he had her working as a fucking VIGILANTE? HELLO? like tenko probably saw some horrible traumatising shit as a child that strengthened these beliefs. this is entirely her master’s fault and he is such a, clenches fist, i can’t even articulate this beanie has better master hatred thoughts than i do, but god he sucks? wow. and fuck tenko’s parents too, sending her off to a temple because she had anger issues. you ever heard of a therapist, chabashiras? hello?

i got distracted, but the main thing is, tenko wouldn’t like him at first. not even reluctantly! like rantaro very much looks like a playboy and that’s the epitome of the kind of guy tenko is against. obviously rantaro isn’t, but tenko isn’t getting close enough to see that! if a man so much as touches her she’s responding defensively, don’t you even think rantaro is going to get past that. and i don’t think rantaro would try Too hard, i mean, like, i think he’d be endeared to tenko because of how much she protects the girls, and how sweet she is when she’s like, not actively thinking about it, but i don’t think he’s so ready to get his ass kicked, y’know? FKLDSJFLKSDFJ

but then maybe like! an accident will happen, and tenko falls over, and rantaro reaches to help her but she freaks and grabs his arm and flips him over and then BOOM!!! neo aikido magic things and she sees all his fucking stress, all his distrust, just how much he really blames himself for everything, how afraid and angry and tired he is, and we all know tenko is super compassionate so i think she would absolutely be worried about it. and then i think she’d like! keep an eye out for rantaro, at the very least try and get confirmation on all those emotions because this pretty boy soooo does not act like it, and then maybe one time she sees him getting grilled on his travels, or he comes back injured and tenko finds him, and she bails him out, begrudgingly, and then they start to become friends.

idk! i think they have platonic potential. i think rantaro would see her as a sister and i think tenko would eventually ask rantaro if he’s really a guy. (which he would laugh off, if he was cis, but if this is nb rantaro.... i’m just saying, the potential for tenko to help rantaro with gender awakening.... fantastic.) get into these two as friends. do it.

if some MOTHERFUCKER reblogs this post with am*cha in the tags i’m going to kill. i’m going to KILL. i won’t even hesitate /hj

rantaro + tsumugi (8/10) (looks at ibuki poster) oh mioda, we’re really in it now. and by that i mean, god it’s so fucking hard to choose favourites from here FKJDSLFKJ i have almost all the girls just, up here, because i’m so fucking fond of their relationships with rantaro. and i know i said i don’t like ranmugi or rantaro/himiko, and it’s true, but i am obsessed with their platonic relationships with him. ESPECIALLY when tsumugi and rantaro are one-sided enemies.... that’s such good shit, holy crap.

okay, let me explain. i feel like rantaro and tsumugi can swing both ways, here. they can either be really good friends! like, rantaro is mellow so he lets tsumugi put him into cosplay (i think rantaro would make a really good n off the top of my head since they’re both green FLKJDSFKJ or light yagami..... handsome men) and since he loves listening to people info dump he just... lets tsumugi go fucking OFF about anime sometimes FKJDSLKFJ i think it would be sweet! i think tsumugi could give rantaro a place to unwind, because she’s so like, hard to phase, i guess? like tsumugi and rantaro share that trait where if you hit either of them in the face with a pie, they’d just go “oh, funky” and go to wash their clothes LMAO. power duo! they’re brother and sister! and i headcanon mugi as a lesbian so she talks to rantaro about ~girls~ sometimes. also u already know tsumugi got tea to spill so rantaro helps with her hair for a cosplay while she gossips KFJDLK honestly why aren’t she miu and rantaro a trio? i just think they’d be neat. good friends! best friends.

or tsumugi absolutely fucking detests rantaro with every fiber of her being. she couldn’t even tell you why! he’s just, he’s a normie! he’s a normie, and he’s like the flirtatious pretty boy stereotype except he isn’t even flirtatious, he’s just genuinely nice and he takes care of people and god tsumugi hates it when anime tries to be subversive! there’s a reason tropes exist, y’know! and he’s so smiley and innocent when obviously he’s hiding some kind of shit, why else would he be going on travels all the time, not that it matters because everyone knows how much she hates rantaro so they wouldn’t listen to her anyway... on rantaro’s end, he really doesn’t have a clue why she loathes him so much, like, he’d like to be friends? but wow she hates him, huh. well, whatever. rantaro’s got more important things to worry about.

in other words, i fucking love them in any form, please give me content of these two they’re so fun.

rantaro + angie (8/10) i love these two and these rankings are? so difficult for me, i am going to cry, you guys get the idea about me being a rantaro stan, right? i hope you do because god i love him so much. and i love him with angie! man. okay. okay.

so like. first of all. angie climbing onto rantaro’s back? perfect. she’s in need of piggy back rides and rantaro will gladly give them. rantaro is so patient and like, hhh i don’t want to use the word pliable because of horny people but that’s the best one i can come up with? like, he just goes with the flow, y’know? angie is so high strung, platonically i think she works really well with people who are patient and indulgent. i don’t know if rantaro would be much for her as far as fulfilling her loneliness, because angie is sort of looking for someone who Wouldn’t indulge her that much, but i’m absolutely weak for their dynamic. just, angie bringing up wacky ideas, rantaro responding with mild skepticism but also listening to her. i think she’d cause some trouble and he would be entirely here for it. bless them, honestly.

also angie painting rantaro’s sisters? please they’re so cute

rantaro + shuichi (8/10) before you come at me like “but toxic! amasai is your otp!” it’s not, okay? it used to be. but due to negative associations i can’t really write it (or shuichi ships as a whole) that much anymore and it’s really frustrating so uh, yeah. amamota supremacy.

that being said, god the potential of these two. they’re a great balance. shuichi is anxious and rantaro is laid back, shuichi is reserved and rantaro is outgoing (to an extent; he definitely doesn’t have any issues voicing his opinions). i think rantaro would be really gentle with shuichi! he matches the quiet, less overwhelming vibes, and just. feels inclined to take care of him, y’know? and spend time with him. i think they’re sweet! i think they’re really cute. the other part of the amasai dynamic that i used to be obsessed with his shuichi’s natural curiosity. shuichi would be so curious about what’s going on with rantaro and why he’s traveling, and rantaro would want so badly to tell him, but he can’t risk it happening again, he can’t... oh!!! rantaro is is really good at comforting people i think so he’d be able to like, support shuichi when he’s upset, and shuichi has great communication skills! or at least i like to give them to him. so shuichi would nudge rantaro into being honest, and talking about his feelings. i just want to see them do well together, that’s all! i think that shuichi is earnest and emotional and he cares very dearly for his friends, and he would try really hard to take care of rantaro. he would also probably worry a lot about rantaro after figuring out he gets injured a lot in trips, which, like, FLKDJSFLKJ rantaro might not be so big on but honestly? the guy needs someone to worry about him.

also they FUCKING TRAVEL TOGETHER!!!! shuichi is a detective!!!!!! he can help rantaro search! cue post-salmon mode amasai slowburn as they travel the world together finding rantaro’s lost sisters. i really need to finish writing search, it’s been four months.

rantaro + kaede (9/10) hhh. oh man. oh geez. amamatsu, huh. amamatsu. i just. think about kaede having a little crush on rantaro after he painted her nails, because he’s so reassuring and patient and observant, and she knows he’s sketchy but she believes in him anyway because he has to be trustworthy, he has to, and then she sees him dead and is at first betrayed, horrified that he was the mastermind, only to realise he wasn’t, and she just killed an innocent person for no reason...

now that that’s out of the way, GOD I LOVE THEM! there are things about this relationship that prevent it from working out in the long term (at least in my opinion) but i don’t even care they have such a lovely dynamic and they look so good together... hhhhh i’m also so into them, just, platonically? god. okay. they just! like they already have that canonical dynamic of like, kaede bringing concerns to rantaro and him reassuring her or providing insight, and it’s so tender! the way he talks to her about miu or kiyo or kiibo (depending on who you choose) is so like, i dunno! he doesn’t judge her for having bad first impressions but at the same time he calmly looks a little more into why they behave the way they do? it’s just sweet! it’s just sweet, and i think rantaro can really help kaede like that, and help her to let her barriers down a little and feel not so pressured to be like, perfect all the time, y’know? to be a leader and take care of everyone 24/7. kaede really needs that.

and kaede! believes in him! she believes in him and looks to him for guidance and that’s so important for rantaro too, just, feeling trusted and knowing someone has faith in him... i really genuinely think kaede would encourage rantaro to keep on looking for his sisters, and urge him to trust other people and believe in himself, and it’s that same thing where she wants him to trust and open up to her and he wants to as well but it’s so difficult.... hhh!!! i think they’re so good!!!!! i just think they’re so good. they would take care of one another.

(the reason why i don’t think they’d be sustainable in the long term is because kaede like, she worries. and not in the way shuichi does? i just feel like she needs more stability and vulnerability than rantaro can actually bring to the table. i think kaede would try so, so, so hard to get rantaro to open up, and try so hard to take care of him and make sure he takes care of himself, and rantaro wouldn’t be putting in the same effort, because he can’t, and i don’t think kaede would blame him for it, but i do think that eventually she’d see it’s not. healthy. and it’s making her upset all the time. and she can’t keep up like this. they hurt me but i love them so much and i live in a world where they’re forever teens and never have to break up.)

also love them platonically! sorry i have amamatsu brainrot at all times but i really do love them as friends! i love rantaro painting kaede’s nails and doing her hair and kaede teaching him a duet on the piano, and she comes to him for advice and he brings her souvenirs and kaede makes sure he’s welcome in the class, and saves him cake after parties... also he calls her a brat and ruffles her hair a lot HEHEHE.

rantaro + maki (9/10) what? what? two people who never interacted and who have almost less interactions than gonta and ryoma do with rantaro? why, tox? why?

... because i’m a simp. that’s the only reason! that’s the only reason. i think they look good together, i’m really weak for maki and rantaro, and that’s the only reason. that’s the only reason! i have a crush on them both and i want to see them interact. there it is. boom. get your “make fun of tox” juice. before i ramble about how much potential they have, i just want you to know how utterly biased i am towards them.

there! that’s out of the way! biases admitted. i think rantaro and maki have the potential to really balance each other out. rantaro is really mellow and maki has a bit of a temper, rantaro is airheaded and maki is focused, rantaro is sociable and maki is closed off. at the same time, though, they like, handshake on a lot of things, y’know? they’re both secretive and distrustful, they both don’t want to let other people get close out of a fear of losing them, they’re both so FUCKING sad please i just want to hold them. i think there’s a lot of potential for them to be like, coming back to hope’s peak late or something, rantaro coming home from a trip and maki coming home from an assassination, and to run into each other and both be curious but also neither of them asks anything because they’ve both got so much to hide...

(that’s actually the exact premise of my amami week day one oneshot, stay tuned, gamers.)

but!! then it happens more often and they start seeing each other a lot more, and slowly they start to get like, a sort of companionship? like they’re not close or anything, but they’re united by their like, distrust of other people. and maybe maki tends to a wound of rantaro’s, or like with tenko tells people to lay off of grilling him, or maybe RANTARO tends to a wound of MAKI’S, or sticks up for her in a conversation. and fuck!! maybe a mission goes wrong and maki is upset and she trusts nobody at this goddamn school (because kaito hasn’t taken her on as his sidekick yet) so she goes to rantaro for, fucking, something, for comfort, and it’s embarrassing and vulnerable and absolutely terrible but he’s so gentle and sweet maki can’t help but let her guard down for just a second. also love the aesthetic of like, rantaro coming home from a trip disheartened and running into maki and she calls him an idiot or something and he just starts crying while maki stands there, not sure what to do, before stepping forward and awkwardly patting his arm FKLDJSFKJd i just think they’re neat. strictly speaking he’s not maki’s type (read: optimistic and stupid) but i love them for each other.

love them as friends! love rantaro to be maki’s go-to friend when she needs her empowering haircut, and them tending to each other’s wounds is not an inherently romantic thing, and they just stick up for each other and vibe... hhhhh.

if none of this happens then idk rantaro is a bit intimidated by maki, and maki thinks he’s unreliable and untrustworthy. that’s probably more likely FLKDJSFKJ BUT I CAN DREAM OKAY? CRIES

rantaro + himiko (9/10) these two are brother and sister, full stop. there’s nothing morally wrong with shipping them, it’s more just that like. i don’t know! himiko is so childish, like, the epitome of a younger sister, and rantaro is the epitome of an older brother... they vibe so hard platonically and then romantically my brain just restarts itself. but anyway!

magic is himiko’s special interest!!!! it means a lot to her and she’s very adamant that it be called magic and not tricks, like, even to the point of slowing down a trial and making herself look guilty in chapter two. i think rantaro is very used to playing along with his sisters’ stuff, and i think he would absolutely humour himiko. and like, they both know it’s not really magic, but it’s the effort that himiko appreciates, and in like, a no-pressure way like rantaro does it? yes please.

i think he would give her piggyback rides. like in chapter five when they’re climbing the stairs to kaito’s lab and himiko goes “someone give me a piggyback ride!” you already know rantaro would be volunteering. (side note: read whattheskyknows’ fic “missing (isn’t always so bad)” because it has that scene and i’m emotional.) i think he’d really take care of her! idk i know i’ve said that about a lot of these but rantaro is very caring. he’d look after himiko and make sure she’s taking her depression meds and carry her to her room when she falls asleep and tell people off when they overwhelm her and hhhh... and himiko would support him too! like with his travels and stuff, she wouldn’t really care about knowing why he’s traveling because it’s not her business and also like, asking about that stuff is a pain, who cares, if he’s gonna travel he’s gonna travel. rantaro would buy her books about magic while traveling and read them to her if she wants, and she would perform magic tricks for him and remind him of what it’s like to have a younger sister again. they matter to me. they should matter to you, too.

rantaro + kirumi (9/10) now i KNOW you weren’t expecting me to put amatoujou any lower, do you know who my favourite person in this fandom is? you are legally obligated to go check out Storyflight’s ao3 and read all of their amatoujou fics because they’re phenomenal and story is too. story ilu. amatoujou week is coming up on october third. participate or die.

anyway! i just think like, in general, rantaro has a lot of respect and appreciation for kirumi. she takes care of everyone! she works so hard all the time and she can really do anything and she’s so composed and calm all the time, and she has this sweet smile and this little laugh and this relaxing, patient energy, and hhhhhhh. rantaro respects her so damn much! so damn much. and maybe he simps a little regardless of whether they’re romantically involved because she works so hard. they get along! pseudo-parents of the group as people always make them. rantaro wants kirumi to kick back every so often, y’know? she matters to him and he’d like to see her being true to herself and enjoying herself. i also think he’s pretty stern with people when it comes to her, and just like, respecting her boundaries, the kinda guy to calmly and casually go, “hey, ouma-kun, she told you not to call her your mother, maybe you’d better respect that?” and kokichi goes “simp” but nevermind nevermind, i’m covering oumami on the next bullet.

idk! i think they’d look after each other! i think rantaro would make sure that kirumi is actually Taking Care Of Herself and of course kirumi would notice him coming in injured all the time and she would absolutely tend to his injuries without asking any questions at all. she would make sure he’s eating and if he requested, she would even tell everyone to Back The Fuck Off on his secrets and leave him alone FKJDSKFj i think she would always emphasise to him that she’ll do whatever she can for him if he so much as asks, as is her duty as a maid or whatever, but rantaro will refuse because like!!! hell’s no, he’s not about to feed into her complex my dude!!!!! but anyway.

i think it would... i just think it would be neat if he told her about his sisters! that’s all. kirumi is a fucking powerhouse, even if rantaro didn’t request it, she would totally help him find all twelve of them and bring them home. honestly? prime slowburn material, just, rantaro requesting that she help find his sisters and they slowly fall in love along the way... hhhhh if i wasn’t a fucking coward i’d write it myself, what a fantastic multi-chapter concept. i am so smart.

rantaro + kokichi (10/10) romantic oumami i go back and forth on but these two are really high at this specific moment in time because i love them SO much platonically, my god.

kokichi is a fucking brat! he’s such a brat, just, an absolute menace, a troublemaker and buffoon. i care him a lot but he’s so tiring to deal with, and if you don’t have the patience it’s hard to like, try and understand him? like with the shorter fuse members of the class (read: kaito and maki) it would be really hard to actually, get to the point where you can see past his bullshit KFJSDLFKJ but rantaro is patient! he’s a patient boy, and he’s hard to menace, and he grew up with twelve younger sisters. twelve!!! he takes care of them, bro, he can handle a little shit gremlin in his life. i think he’d be endeared to kokichi because of this reason, like, the immaturity, it just reminds him of his sisters, and if kokichi pulled out the “onii-chan”... hoo, it’s over. rantaro will do whatever this guy wants. just, a total enabler. absolute goon and enabler. i love them so much.

on a more serious note, they both have a lot of baggage, and similar to harumami it’s like, they’re both really distrustful! they’re distrustful, they just deflect in different ways. i think they’re both observant and intelligent enough that they could bounce off of each other really well. i do think kokichi is a bit smarter than rantaro is, if only just because it’s really hard to be smarter than kokichi, but i still think rantaro could keep up with them. and i think they could be a safe haven for each other! like rantaro gives him a place to truly feel safe, y’know, which is SO rare for kokichi the way he believes everyone is out to get him, and kokichi could give rantaro a place to just, stop smiling. unwind and be himself a little bit. be a little mean! bitch a little! be openly distrustful!

they take care of each other is all!! care them.

rantaro + kaito (20/10) you think you know a simp’s rating system and then she pulls one of these. i’m honestly a little worried about how long this will be because i’ve literally been writing this for three hours but KFJDSKJFDK i’m going to try my very, very best! so here goes :3c

kaito and rantaro have... so much in common. look at these two emotionally constipated, constantly smiling, constantly putting on a brave face, never letting their guard down, never relying on anyone but themselves, always taking care of other people, always taking the burden onto themselves... yeah. it’s like looking in a mirror. and in some cases that’s a really terrible foundation for a relationship. but with these two, when their unhealthy similarities are so reliant upon the other person being willing to just let themself be helped... it works out.

because they’re sweet! they’re sweet people, and rantaro will probably notice the way that kaito takes so much crap from people, including his sidekicks, while working so hard to take care of everyone, and kaito will of Course notice how rantaro is gone all the time, and how he kind of takes himself out of group interactions and makes himself an outcast, and how subtly closed off he is... there’s interest! and they’re both so inclined to help each other i feel like they’d get close! kaito would probably have a bit of a squish on rantaro anyway because he’s the fucking ultimate adventurer and what the hell, that’s so fucking cool, kaito’s destiny obviously lies in the stars but knowing someone who’s going to conquer the earth... that’s awesome. he probably sees rantaro as an equal even before they start getting close. (aka he thinks rantaro is totally above him in every way, like, the ideal almost, but “an equal” is something the luminary of the stars would say, so there he is.) and rantaro thinks kaito is a little silly, but he’s sweet! it’s sweet how much he takes care of other people and just, like, looks after them. rantaro’s weak for a good dork.

and maybe kaito asks rantaro to train with him sometime, or challenges him to a fight, and of course rantaro goes for it because he’s a Man or whatever (and if they do fight it’s homoerotic as hell FKLDSJFK) and plus he’s been meaning to get to know kaito anyway, and then they make a habit of it and start like!! spending time together. and kaito drags rantaro into the larger group and makes him interact and rantaro quietly tells people to lay off kaito, or else makes sure that he’s actually taking care of himself, and then they’re both trying so hard to just, help each other, and they keep like deflecting it back onto the other person, and it’s frustrating! and rantaro is sitting there like “man i really wish momota-kun would open up to me!!” before realising fucking... wait. i do the same thing. like how can he expect kaito to open up to him if he wont do the same thing, y’know? and then he ponders that, and is like, well maybe the relationship just isn’t worth it like vulnerability is for gay losers, but rantaro is, inevitably, a gay loser, so...

there’s just something about seeing your own flaws magnified on another person who you really, really want to take care of, that makes you realise how uncomfortable that is. obviously kaito doesn’t realise he’s upsetting people by pushing them away, not until rantaro closes the door in his face during a breakdown, and then he seriously needs to reevaluate the way he takes care of other people.

idk! i think they’re fantastic. i think kaito’s fervent belief in people would lend itself well to rantaro’s task, like, who doesn’t want to be believed in, y’know? and kaito is so strong about it, even when rantaro doubts himself he’s so encouraging and it’s nice. and rantaro gives kaito space to stop being the hero for a second and just! be kaito! and kaito can tend to his wounds and rantaro can take care of him when he’s sick and hhhHhHhHhhhhHh i care about them SO fucking much.

also? amamota baking sessions? absolutely fucking flawless. these two are so important to me.

hahahaha. sorry for such a long reply, anon. i have a lot of feelings about all of these guys. especially rantaro :) thank you so much for the ask, this was a lot of fun to answer. hope you’re doing well.

[jenmyeons]

Favorite Fics 2019

hi hello it’s me your local mess. ok so this hit me on my way to work the other day and since it’s friday i feel like today is a good day to hopefully make someone’s day/night/weekend a little brighter? 

i love reading fanfics. periodt. there are lots of incredible writers out there on this site and other platforms who take time to write beautiful fics about the real people and characters and their emotional support kpop ladies and gentlemen to show their love and appreciation so i want to dedicate this to my favorite fics of this year. these fanfics are of varying lengths and genres but they all have two things in common 1) they were posted this year 2) i love them.

(most of these are exo but i have some other groups sprinkled in there too)

other favorite fics of mine can be found under my fic recs tag!

A Decade of Midnights by @chogi-wae 

queen of noir! grumpy chenneth! sexy detectives! murder mystery! do i even have to say anything else? oh yes! we also get coroner!baekhyun 

ps: jae has a sequel started for this with two parts already having me at the edge of my seat. i love all of jae’s writing but this one takes the cake

Enough by @yeoldontknow

anything kat touches turns golden and holy mother of everything that is self-love and reflection. this is a fic for all us sexy ladies with a body that doesn’t conform to what society has decided is “beautiful”. i can’t call myself plus size in any way but i do not have a flat tummy or legs for days or perky titties. quite the opposite; i’m a short lady with love handles, saggy tits and stomach rolls (yes we’re going tmi here but it’s important ok). park chanyeol is the opposite of that and he’s the best fucking man ever in this fic. he’s a muscle man but he’s a man with the biggest heart and he says “you have a cute butt” which is enough reason for you to read this. when i feel bad about myself, i think about enough and i become a little happier

Empty Vessels 

another yeoldontknow masterpiece! i stand by the statement that this is the best fic i have ever read. probably read this five times already and i think about it almost daily. junmyeon is a witch from salem and that’s only one of the many reasons for you to check this out and hopefully fall in love with it as much as i have. it’ll rip your heart out and stomp on it. dub me professional empty vessels promoter already kat!! 

Dichotomy by @kyungseokie

dia hurts you in the best possible way with this fic. bawl my eyes out every damn time i read this because fucking hell this is emotional investment and hearts broken and everything hurts and this is not your average love triangle where one guy is obviously worse than the other. NO! this can go either way and you just want everyone to be happy and baekhyun needs a hug!

Teacher’s Pet by @suhoerections

teacher junmyeon getting called daddy “threatening” to bend you over his desk and fuck you hard is a lot for a suhoe stan such as myself to think about but i’m not mad, just jorny.

Clouded by @mayrubyy

uhm yes do you want to cry some more? this is an emotional rollercoaster, you have been warned! this fic has great potential and it’s maya’s child and when the next part is posted you know shit will go down and ashjgff i have no words only love for both the author aka my baby and the fic itself🥺💖

Familiar Stranger by @myforeverforlife

love love love love LOVE familiar stranger! a beautiful story about reader losing all memories of the last five years due to an accident which includes her entire life with fiancé kim jongdae. dae is an angel, we all know that, but he’s somehow even more angelic as the most patient person ever in familiar stranger. this hits right in the feels (can you tell i love to read angst ahjdsf) and it’s not your usual wham bam thank you ma’am all-memories-recovered-in-five-seconds kind of situation either and i’m praying for another update of this because this is not just one of the best fics of this year but one of my favorites period.

Sunny Side Up by @dreaminghaos

i love everything fee writes with a burning passion y’all

this fic is everything everything everything!!! i can’t get enough of this fic and i probably never will get enough of it either because i love this pairing and i’m in love with struggling writer!jeonghan 

Magnetic by @softyexo 

did anyone say ceo!myeon? this is a recent love of mine. i read it just the other day and have been thinking about it non-stop since. absolutely in love with oc’s and junmyeon’s dynamic in this one and it feeds all my lovesickness for this man made of pure husband material. thanks for coming to this ted talk.

Hold on to silence by @dropsofletters

amazing! show stopping! incredibly unique! absolutely astonishing! idiots in love! omg i LOVE this one! yixing as chanhun’s manager is everything i didn’t know i needed and holy crap this is such a lovely story please read it and experience the feels™

Neon Moon by @kyungseokie

they were roleplaying! ROLEPLAYING!

Trauma by @baekwell--tart

dad and secret mafia man!byun falls in love with his babysitter after being an absolute asshole to her and oh my god i am so invested in this masterpiece. whenever bella updates trauma i yell. i’ve re-read this many times already and i continue to find new reasons why i love this story with my whole entire being

Mr. Byun

bella once again proving that she writes the most amazing bbh fics. angst and smut combined i swear i was a whole lot worked up with all the spice in this one and then i cried like a baby when it ended. have i told you that i’m a very emotionally stable person?🤡

Bedazzling Heart of Gold by @baekonsforbreakfast

i love this song! baekhyun gets dumped and falls in love with oc who runs one of the biggest hostess bars in all of sk and holy crap you just love everyone in this fic. even that one character who you feel like you should hate but kind of still empathize with on a deeply emotional level. no? just me? ok then. i love you belle and i hope you know how much i enjoy your writing💗

Mr. Muscles by @chogi-wae

short and sweet drabble about oc biting jun’s bicep. no but for real i’ve read this one countless times and i just love a domestic jun so go ahead and read duality and dyson as well because nobody writes cute domestic fluff like jae ilysm

Money Makes Her Smile by @ninibears-erigom

mrs gom has written one of the dirtiest but also loveliest smut series of 2019. jongdae’s part was posted yesterday and holy fuck i have never read better jongdae smut ever i think

Business Before Pleasure by @pcychedelic

actor minseok! i repeat: actor minseok!

they get down and dirty in like the second chapter and i’m in love. not because of the obvious spiciness but because the amazing portrayal of minseok in this fic. love a strong female character? then you will love oc too!

High Voltage by @skyesins

SIN! THIS IS SIN! I LOVED EVERY SINGLE PART OF THIS FIC AND PART TWO IS EVEN BETTER!

there’s also the original ofc version on asian fanfics for those who aren’t into reader inserts and it’s just as good! 

Literally every single aesthetic that @kpop-daze has written but some favorites include exo as broken love / exo as ephemeral tenderness /  exo as fleeting heartbreak 

Unfitting by @heechulhamster

SOLDIER MINSEOK SOLDIER MINSEOK SOLDIER MINSEOK that is all

no wait... this has real descendants of the sun vibes and i love it so much can i have a soldier!xiu por favor

Fire and Frost by @writing-exo-things

queen of drabbles! i love every single one of them but this one is next level™ i cried like a baby this is truly amazing!!!

Take Care by @omyeol 

 g o d i felt this fic on a deeply spiritual and emotional level 

False Hope by @pastel-kpop

i hate you and i love you for writing this it still hurts reading this like YES MAKE ME HURT AYESHA THEY ARE IDIOTS 

Mocha by @stainandscribble  

the whole café series is lovely but mocha and espresso really stuck out to me i’m so soft for the whole aesthetic of these! 

ever imagined that jackson wang is your date to your brother’s wedding? well @softseunies did and it turned out fucking amazing! what i love the most is that it’s very open for interpretation and of course jackson is always a mood when will he be my date and mayhaps potential bf at the wedding of the brother i don’t have?

little forest by @myforeverforlife

I LOVE THIS! DO YOU HEAR ME?! L O V E THIS!

not his to love by @boogerines

can you hear me sobbing? this hurts so much let me go back to crying over this again after i re-read this for the nth time

this blurb right here is adorable @sprinklesofktrash did that!

wild valley by @fairyyeols

wild valley is that bitch™ and that’s all i have to say i live and breathe for this installation of exo customs my favorite, in fact

blossoms in the wind by @marshmallow-phd

don’t @ me but this goblin!au with junmyeon as the goblin and baekhyun as the grim reaper is more intriguing than the drama and that’s saying a lot but i cry with every new chapter ohmygoddddd

wrong number by @yeoldotcom

i’m a hoe for fake texts and zee makes the best ones🥺🥺🥺🥺

also love love love bf!jun in food buddies

break up with me by @exoangst

don’t mind me i’m just crying in a corner as i read this for the millionth time and cry over how well written oc is and how fucking amazing that breakup scene is like has anyone done it like that before? maybe, idk but this is the only one that counts 

[bigbrotherlouis]

for director’s cut: the raleigh/airport scene in ‘i can’t find nothin’...’ if you would like to!!!!

ANGELA you’re gonna make me talk about sex scenes on main?! let’s DO IT

(director’s cut meme)

andrei understands, on some level, why they have to fly commercial, (i’m always going to make players fly commercial in fic if i can. direct action.)   even with a job like theirs, but in practicality, when he’s wandering around the raleigh airport at six am after their flight out is delayed, he doesn’t.

marty’s laughing at him in the way that means he’s trying to be subtle about it, but andrei’s too grumpy to care. (this was for la.) it’s too fucking early and the line for coffee is too fucking long.

“it’s too early,” he whines. marty flips over the book in his hands to read the back cover.

“boo fuckin’ hoo, bud.”

“i’m tired.” and again, in russian, “я устал.”

“не— не— i don’t care,” (i couldn’t remember how to phrase this properly and i didn’t want to look it up, plus it’s funny) marty snaps back. “it’s your own fault for watching tv until one in the morning.”

“it was gossip girl,” he mutters. “important american culture.” (in one of my transition workshops where we learned to handle moving countries, we watched mean girls as an example of american culture. true story.)

“uh huh, and degrassi is exactly how canadian high school was like.” (didn’t like the flow on this sentence but i couldn’t figure out how else to phrase it. oh well.)

andrei is, like, ninety percent sure marty didn’t finish high school in canada, but he’s not willing to take the chance that he’s wrong and get teased about it. “please, can we go to starbucks now? давай, давай.” [let’s go, let’s go] (translation is always a struggle, and even more so when it’s a different alphabet like russian. i decided to include translations when context isn’t immediately clear for the reader’s comfort. also, this is something my family does-- use a different language when we want to stress something, like svechy stressing that he wants to leave)

“talking in russian won’t get me to go any faster, svechy,” marty says, placid for the early morning, and shoves a book into andrei’s hands. “here. read this and distract yourself.”

“i don’t read until i awake.” (svechy’s syntax was hard for me to write, because i want it to be clear, true to character, and respectful all at once which is hard to balance. it’s why svech’s grammar can sometimes seem a little inconsistent-- sometimes, i chose respect and readability over true to characterization. also, transliteration of accents can make people seem childish or dumb which is absolutely not what i want!)

“sucks to suck.”

andrei grumbles under his breath, a mixture of russian and english and some of sebastian’s favourite swedish (this should be finnish. oops.) curses thrown in there too, absently drumming his fingers on the cover of the book he’s still holding. marty is paying him no attention, which almost bothers him as much as the lack of caffeine does.

he’s cocking his head to read the spines of the books in the airport store when he feels the heat of someone step behind him, too close for politeness, and he’s whirling before he can even really think about it. (there really aren’t a lot of places spies can meet up by accident without getting too repetitive, especially in something that’s supposed to be silly and short, but an airport felt plausible.)

“whoa,” says joel, stepping back out of andrei’s elbows. “easy there.”

“joel?”

“in the flesh,” he says with a grin, and andrei’s thinking about how twice is a coincidence but three times is a pattern when (this is me lampshading their constant meetups because i didn’t feel like expounding on it LOL)— “is that twilight?”

“i— what?”

“the book you’re reading.”

andrei looks down at his hands and then scowls in the general direction of the shelves. fucking marty. (this is the whole reason they’re in the bookstore. for me to make this joke about svech holding twilight.)

joel tips his head to the side and grins wider. “didn’t peg (haha peg) you for a vampire guy, but i can see it. wait, fuck, are you from transylvania?” (apologies to americans but this is a little jab at your general geography abilities)

“no, not in in russia,” he says absently. “siberia, yes. transylvania, no. why you here?”

“well, i just like to lurk around airports for fun. you see interesting people like this.”

“really.”

joel snorts. “no, i have a flight, dumbass. i’m a business bitch.” (my rule of thumb for writing joel’s dialogue is to think of the most ridiculous thing i can imagine a person saying in any given circumstance and then assigning him that line.)

“a business bitch?”

“yeah, dude. makin’ money moves n’shit.”

“you’re not following me?” andrei asks, aiming for teasing, pretending it’s not a real question. (more lampshading. i was lazy.) joel makes his eyes go wide and innocent, and mostly doesn’t succeed.

“andrew,” he says, outraged. “are you accusing me of being a stalker?”

“yes.”

“oh, so you’re definitely team edward. (this joke fell into my lap) i see how it is. can’t a bro say hi to his bro in an airport, especially after getting a decent brojob the last time they saw each other?”

andrei mouths the word brojob (i crack up every time this term is used and joel would absolutely say it) and then shakes his head. “no.”

“tough crowd. what are you doing here, buddy?”

“waiting for marty to finish so we can go to starbucks. too early and he is too slow.”

“yeah?” joel looks over at where marty is now examining the overpriced souvenirs with a very careful air, taking them off the shelves and putting them gently back. (i was very into this image) “wanna go stand in line with me?” (high romance there, bee)

strictly speaking, marty and andrei are supposed to be together when travelling, just in case someone gets snatched. it’s happened before, but andrei really, really wants something to drink before they fly out to fucking vancouver, or wherever they’re going. he can’t even remember. besides, if joel was going to snatch him, he would’ve done it earlier, in the hotel when andrei was fucked out and happy. he shrugs. (listen. i didn’t want to do any worldbuilding because it was a fun au so i did the bare minimum.)

“sure. marty, i go to stand in line,” he yells and marty waves a hand without looking up. the line stretches down the hallway, too many people patiently waiting for a rush. (i’m so familiar with this and it makes me sad just writing about it) andrei can’t fault them; he’s tired too, which is why he doesn’t realise that joel’s pulling him towards the bathrooms instead of the coffee shop, pushing him into the family stall and shoving the door closed. (i’m gonna be honest: i have absolutely no idea why i made this a sex scene. like none. i remember being halfway through and being like “....i’m writing?? airport sex??” but i don’t remember why i decided it was a good idea.)

for a second, andrei thinks this is when he gets kidnapped and killed, a rival taking him out in the crowded airport where no one can see. the bulgarian maneuver would’ve been a lot less conspicuous, but oh well. (this is referring to the bulgarian assassins who killed a journalist in the 80s? i think? with a poison-tipped umbrella and i’m just now realising that’s probably not common knowledge)

instead, joel clicks the lock in place and presses up close, plastered to the front of andrei.

“wha—” says andrei, but it’s swallowed up in joel’s mouth, swallowed up in the kiss that joel gives him. he kisses back, of course he does, because it’s a fucking good kiss. joel hums, coaxing his mouth open for a minute and then biting on his lower lip before pulling away. he doesn’t go far, hands skimming down andrei’s body until he drops to his knees on the dirty bathroom floor.

“we are in a toilet,” andrei hisses. “in an airport.” (svech has the practical response)

joel shrugs, giving him the biggest shit-eating grin as he undoes his belt. (joel is never not going to be smug) “guess you have to be fast, then. besides, i owe you one.”

technically, he still got off last time, even if it was pretty basic, it’s not like andrei’s going to say no, not when joel is looking so eager and mischievous.

“don’t make too much noise,” instructs joel, (i realised after i posted the fic that both blowjobs start with someone giving instructions and i’m gonna say it’s because it’s a literary parallel and not because i don’t know how to transition into sexual acts) and then he’s got his mouth on andrei’s dick and andrei can’t think of anything else to say. he bangs his head against the door and clamps a hand over his mouth, digging his fingers of his other hand into the wood behind him.

joel is good enough that andrei’s not going to last long, not like this, getting off on the secrecy of it all. (read: i just didn’t want to write a lot. but also i think svechy has an exhibitionist streak in him and joel definitely does) it’s a tiny bit shameful in the way that makes him groan into his palm, makes him rock his hips into joel’s hot mouth. joel just hums around andrei’s dick and that’s— okay, that’s a lot. andrei’s gonna get a splinter under his nails from digging so hard, or maybe he’s gonna die on the spot, or like something because joel pulls off to just go right back in again and fuck. (fun fact! i’ve never had sex i don’t know what i’m writing)

“fuck,” he hisses through the meat of his hand. “fuck!”

it’s too loud, probably, and joel’s eyes flick up to his with a warning.

“sorry,” andrei breathes. joel pinches his thigh, sharp enough to sting, and embarrassingly, that’s what makes him come with a noise between a breath and a whine.

“baller,” (joel pick something less sexy to say i dare you) joel says smugly when andrei comes back to earth, enough of a douche move that andrei can’t help but roll his eyes. he flicks joel on the cheek.

“you suck.”

he grins. “well, yeah. obviously.” (low hanging fruit but he’d say it so i wrote it)

“idiot,” andrei mutters and then tugs on joel’s shoulders until he stands up, pulls him in until he can nudge at joel’s jaw with his nose. “i help you?”

joel shakes his head, his hair tickling the side of andrei’s cheek. “nah, i like it when you owe me. hey, does it count as being part of the mile high club if we’re still on the ground?” (i was literally in the middle of posting this fic to ao3 before i realised i had not made a mile high joke which was unacceptable. typed it right into the text box)

“no?”

“damn. it’s on my bucket list.”

“you so weird,” andrei tells him, not managing to keep the fondness out of his voice, and then yawns so hard his jaw cracks. “i’ll pay you back with a drink.”

“oh my god,” says joel and then pinches andrei in the side so he twitches. “i just gave you the best airport blowjob—”

“only airport blowjob.”

“the best fucking airport blowjob of your life, and you’re thinking about drinks? fuckin’ ridiculous, andrew.”

“not andrew, yo-el.” (this is svech getting back at joel as best he can. trying to give it as good as he gets it. establishing banter!!)

“sure, bro,” joel mumbles and andrei shoves at him so he can get his pants back on, fumbling with the door. “next time better be fuckin’ phenomenal. you owe me big time.”

“excuse me, you said it was payback. we equal.”

“maybe i changed my mind,” joel says with a grin, bumping him with his hip.

“maybe i disappear forever,” he replies, halfway between teasing and halfway to serious. joel reaches up to fix his snapback (this is also for la.) and shrugs.

“nah, you’re too sweet to do that.”

“i’m not sweet.”

“uh huh, bro. keep tellin’ yourself that shit.”

the line’s gone down, incredibly, and they’re close enough to the counter that andrei has to start thinking about what to order. he should probably get something for marty, or risk getting whined at all flight.

“yo,” says joel when they’re two people away from the barista. “you got digits?”

andrei hesitates and then holds up his hands, wriggling his fingers. “uh. yes?” (it’s probably more in character for real life joel to ask for instagram instead but this joke made me laugh so much that i couldn’t bear to leave it out. also it’s a little fun second language moment)

joel blinks at him for a long second and then breaks out into a wide smile, shaking his head. “nah, not those. i mean, like, a phone number.”

“i don’t have a phone,” he mutters and then pulls one out of his pocket. (YES this is a tumblr post ripoff but svech wasn’t just going to give it up so easily so in it went) “okay, give.”

he dutifully types out the sequence joel rattles off and then sends a smiley face to the number when joel makes him text.

“cool. now we can text instead of ambushing each other in public.”

“that not me,” andrei tells him. “all you.”

“you’re jumpy and it’s cute.”

“i’ll delete your number. block it.” he warns and joel waves a hand.

“yeah, yeah,” he says cheerfully and then leans over to tell the barista what he wants to drink. it’s the most ridiculous sugary concoction, hardly any coffee, and andrei stares at him in horror. (this is projection for my horror at some of the things i’ve seen in american coffee shops. that’s just. so much sugar. also prime chirping opportunity to show their personalities and dynamic a little)

“you gonna drink that?” he asks and joel frowns a little. “is just sugar. candy.”

“yeah, so? it tastes so good.”

“you not gonna have teeth.” he orders two cold brews and pays. “you gonna die early from sugar.”

“somehow,” joel says with a sparkle in his eye, “i don’t think it’s gonna be the sugar that’ll nerf me in the end.” (minor foreshadowing here! also lmao @ the thought of joel saying nerf) 

he gets his vanilla bean java chip unicorn whatever frappuccino— literally, what the fuck— and takes a satisfied sip.

“disgusting,” says andrei. “no more kissing for you.”

“aw, bud, how am i gonna practice? you said i needed it.” (it’s not stated in the fic but joel learned how to flirt from watching tk and patty and i think it shows) 

“lost cause,” he tells him airily. he’s about to suggest something— he’s not even sure what— when someone appears over joel’s shoulder.

“farabee,” the guy says. he looks stern, but that might be the impressive beard. or the death glare he’s levelling andrei’s way. “where the fuck have you been?”

joel brandishes his drink. “caffeinating it up, g. stayin’ alert and awake.” (real life joel has said this at least once to claude, and i will stand by that statement)

g’s frown gets deeper. “we’re going to miss our flight.”

“nah, we’ve got time— oh, shit. yeah, we gotta bounce, bruh, but i’ll catch you later? text me.” (inelegant departure but my goal was to not overthink things in this fic, like i’m prone to do, so i left it) he almost literally get pulled away by his elbow, towed by his ginger friend through the airport so he can enthusiastically wave his goodbye.

“well,” marty says out of nowhere, reaching for his cold brew and making andrei jump. “there’s good news and bad news.”

“okay.”

“the good news is that he’s cute and somehow into your stupid face.” he takes a long drink, conscious that andrei is about to hit him for making him wait and enjoying it very much. (he’s dramatic and also i wanted to draw out the surprise a little) andrei needs new teammates.

“the bad news?” he prompts.

“the bad news,” repeats marty, grimacing. “the bad news is that he’s definitely in the same line of work as us.”([john mulaney voice] the other shoe just dropped.)

everything in andrei’s head grinds to a stop. “uh. what?”

“i recognize his handler. giroux, french canadian division.” (i’m gonna work g into fic when i can bc i love him)

“joel’s american,” he says absently and marty takes another drink, shrugging.

“so philly’s an international cooperation team. (this was my way of making the international aspect of the spy teams make sense, and also to not have this be enemies-to-lovers, as much as i love that trope) can’t imagine that ever happening.” he gives svech a look which, yes, andrei knows they work together because of a treaty or whatever, but still. he wants marty to be wrong about joel, for so many reasons.

mainly because he doesn’t like feeling like he’s been conned, not when he’s so good at doing the conning, and this is a big one. (it’s not my fic if there’s not at least a little angst!)

“fuck,” he says glumly. marty pats him on the shoulder.

“well,” he says. “at least he’s cute.” (marty’s trying to show his support for svech here! he just wants good things for his friend :)))

that was so fun to do, thank you so much for asking! ily!! <3 <3 <3