#should I tag this as lost prince au? sounds exciting

[safekeeperscosm]

I don't have a blog here, but I do want to share my own AU in the backburner, so far I have Terry turning out to be a lost Shlorpian prince- and yes I'm that anon who gushes about Meraliens. (I'm Jules, or Gary, He/They) ⭐

Prince Terry?? lost?? oh my, did he run away? is he keeping his identity a secret or does he not know? we did find out there are privileged shlorpians so.. 👁️👁️ unless this has a more fantasical setting?

it's lovely to have you here Gary (✿^‿^)

[curls-cat]

Sugar/Spice; Snips/Snails

for @grimmtober day 1: Candy! Also on AO3 and ff.net under the same name. but I can’t link it if I want this to show up in the tags. :/ AU: Sabrina grows up in Ferryport Landing.

*

There’s a boy in the woods. Sabrina sees him, even if none of the grown-ups do. He’s bigger than she is, with curly gold hair like hers, wearing a big green hoodie. He keeps looking at her through the trees and grinning. There are fireflies around him, even during the daytime, even now that summer’s all the way over.

Sabrina knows better than to go outside herself. Mamma and Daddy and Granny all say it’s too dangerous, that she’s too little and sometimes people are mean and might hurt her. And even when people aren’t mean, the woods is really big, and she could get lost so easy. Mr. Canis could find her, but someone mean might find her first.

But there’s a boy in the woods. And there aren’t a lot of other kids in Ferryport Landing. Especially not ones she can talk to (in preschool there’s Bella and Natalie and Toby and Wendell, but only Wendell is allowed to be her friend. And everything else is secrets, secrets, secrets—don’t tell anyone about Mr. Canis, Sabrina, or about what being a Grimm means, or about why you’re extra excited to get to first grade and see Ms. Snow). And all Sabrina’s Halloween candy disappeared last night.

Sabrina wanted to be Alice in Wonderland for Halloween, but her parents said No and Granny said Politics and didn’t explain what that meant, so Sabrina was Stephanie from Lazy Town instead and had to wear an itchy pink wig the whole night and none of the grown-ups knew who she was supposed to be. And now all her candy’s gone and nobody believed her when she said she didn’t eat all of it.

So the next time the fireflies come out, when it’s just starting to get dark and the shadows from the woods reach all the way to the house, Sabrina follows them. They’re pretty, even though up close they’re too big to be lightning bugs, and they glow too bright. She didn’t really think they were bugs.

She follows them as they dance between the long shadows of the trees. She didn’t have time to put on her shoes before she left, so her socks are getting wet in the grass. It’s gross. They lead her right to the edge of the woods, and then they scatter.

Sabrina is, for a moment, alone in the gathering dark of the woods. Nearly all the leaves have fallen, and it’s gray and brown and so, so quiet. No birds or bugs. No Mamma or Daddy or Granny calling for her to come inside. She can see the house through the trees, and it looks warm and safe and like it’s calling her back.

“Scared?”

Sabrina spins around and pulls her hands up the way Ms. White taught her—you have to protect your face—and sees the boy, sitting in a tree a few feet above her. Up close, he’s different than she thought. Still a boy, still a kid like her, but older. Taller. And dirty. He’s holding her candy in his hand. She knows it’s hers because it’s still in her plastic jack-o-lantern with her initials on the bottom in her very own handwriting.

“I’m not scared of you,” she tells him.

He grins, flashes too-sharp teeth. “Sure. That’s why you jumped a mile high when I said something, little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl!” she says, even though she is, and she knows it. “I’m a big sister!” She balls her fists tighter. “And that’s my candy.”

“Finders keepers,” he says. He unwraps a pack of oreos and pops them in his mouth. His fingernails are too sharp, too.

“You’re rude,” she says, but she puts her fists down. He doesn’t seem mean, just… messy. And gross. And mean, but she said that already.

“So’re you,” he says, and hands her a pack of Starbursts.

Sabrina accepts her candy, unwraps it. Inside there’s two pink ones and an orange one. She wrinkles her nose and eats the orange one. She’s not supposed to have candy before dinner.

She’s also not supposed to talk to strangers. Especially not strangers who are ab-so-lute-ly Everafters.

“Why’d you take my candy?” She sits on the ground. Her socks are already dirty, might as well get mud on her overalls, too. The boy won’t care. He’s dirtier than she is.

“I was hungry,” he says. “I just told the pixies to get me food.”

Not fireflies. Pixies. Sabrina squints at him. “You’re not supposed to talk about magic.” She doesn’t know what a pixie is, but she knows for sure it’s magic.

“I thought this town was full of magic,” the boy says. “A ‘haven for the homeless,’ that’s what your ancestor said when he convinced all of us to follow him over here. Or a prison, if you listen to anybody else.”

“There’s people, too,” Sabrina informs him. “Lots of ‘em. Normal people. Boring people. I have twelve in my preschool class. And they’ve all got parents. Some have brothers and sisters, too.”

The boy looks suitably impressed. Then he wrinkles his nose. “Boring,” he tells her. “I was hoping this place would be fun. But it’s got rules too, huh?”

“Everywhere has rules,” Sabrina says. “My daddy says they’re to keep people safe.”

The boy snorts. “To keep you from having fun, more like.” He pops a Reese’s into his mouth.

Something occurs to Sabrina, then. “How’d you know about my an-cestor?” The new word feels strange on her tongue. She thinks it means like your grandpa, but extra.

The boy nods in the direction of the house. “I watched him build that place. Slowed him down, too. Plus I’ve been watching.”

“I know,” Sabrina says. “I saw you.”

“What’s your name?” he asks. “Other than Grimm. Your first name.”

“Sabrina,” she offers readily. “What’s yours?”

He tosses her another pack of Starbursts. “Puck.”

*

Sabrina brings Puck food for a few days. She likes keeping him secret. Everyone’s busy with the new baby, and Sabrina loves Daphne, sure, but babies are boring and she doesn’t know why all the grown-ups care so much about someone who can’t even do anything. She also feels a little left out, maybe, and it’s nice having someone who’s hers. They talk. He’s a prince, he says. He’s exiled, he says. He’s famous, he says. He’s the coolest. He doesn’t have to say that part. Sabrina thinks so, too.

They spend afternoons in the cool dark woods, and Puck takes her flying, because he’s not just too sharp, he’s also got wings, because he’s a fairy, which Sabrina has never met before. They share her Halloween candy. He turns into animals, and he listens to her tell him about preschool. She’s learning to read, a little. She can read the street sign for their road. Puck thinks reading and books are boring. She yells at him about it.

That’s the other thing about Puck. If she gets mad at him, he doesn’t tell her to stop throwing a tantrum or go to her room like her parents, and he doesn’t start crying or tattle to someone like the other kids at preschool. He yells back. And then they’re friends again.

*

Mr. Canis is the one who finds out. He follows her to the woods and says, “I wondered where all the caramels went.”

“This is Puck,” Sabrina says. If a grown-up did have to find them, she’s glad it was Mr. Canis. He’s not a regular grown-up, not the kind who tells her what to do and gets worried or talks down to her. He just talks, and listens. Sometimes he says weird stuff, but other than that, he’s almost like a regular person. “He was hungry.”

“I know who he is,” Mr. Canis says. “I’ve been watching him.” He looks down at Sabrina. “What I didn’t know was that you knew him.”

“He took my Halloween candy,” Sabrina says. “Nobody listened.”

Mr. Canis doesn’t say anything. He looks Puck up and down. 

Puck stares right back at him, then, at long last, says, “Don’t get mad at her.”

“I am not angry,” Mr. Canis says. “You should come inside and meet the family.”

Puck wrinkles his nose. “I’m not going to move back inside. I’ve finally broken out of being civilized.”

“I am not asking you to,” Mr. Canis says. “But inside there is food that will not rot your teeth.”

“Everafters don’t get cavities.”

Mr. Canis laughs. It sounds like a dog barking. It always does. “I can assure you we do.” He shows Puck his own too-sharp teeth, points at a shiny silver spot in one of them. “I had this filled myself.”

Puck’s eyes go wide, and his hand comes up to his face. He gives Mr. Canis another long look. “What kind of food?”

“Weird food,” Sabrina informs him. “Granny’s cooking tonight.”

Puck thinks for a second, then shrugs. He grins at Sabrina. “I like weird.”

*

Puck keeps living in the woods. Sabrina has to tell a grown-up before she goes to see him, now. The grown-ups all have a long conversation after Mr. Canis tells them she’s been going in the woods to visit a Strange Boy (he’s not a strange boy, she tries to tell them, but nobody listens). After, her parents sit her down and have A Talk with her about Danger and how Not All Everafters Are Nice. She listens, even if she thinks they’re coming at it wrong. Puck isn’t nice. She doesn’t want him to be nice.

They grow.

*

At age nine, Sabrina runs out of the house, ignoring the sound of her dad shouting after her. This time, at least, she’s wearing shoes. She heads straight for Puck’s trash throne. The pixies greet her on the way, rising out of the shadows of another gathering dark, as they always do. She appreciates it, though she barely needs it, can find her way to Puck without any help.

“What’s Hanky yelling about?” Puck asks instead of greeting her. He’s sitting, as usual, on his porcelain throne atop a mountain of broken furniture.

Sabrina throws him a bag of fun size Milky Ways—it’s the family’s Halloween candy, and her mom’s going to be mad that she has to buy another bag, but Sabrina doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about anything and it’s not like they’ll even be here in a few weeks and her parents don’t care about what she wants, anyway, so why should she care about them?

Puck catches the candy, opens it, and pops one, fully wrapped, into his mouth. He spits the wrapper out onto the ground a few seconds later, covered in spit and melted chocolate. He does this a lot. Sabrina always calls him gross and makes a stink about it. Today all she can think about is how she’s not gonna be able to see this anymore in a few days, because—

Puck notices her silence. “What, Grimm? Finally seen sense about ‘the environment’?”

Sabrina isn’t sure she wanted him to notice. She thinks maybe she wanted him to act like everything was normal and maybe then she could pretend it really was, for a bit. But she sort of also wants someone to listen, someone she can yell at who won’t talk about safety. Someone who cares about what she wants, even if he pretends not to, instead of pretending to when they don’t, like her parents.

“We’re moving,” she says, and she keeps her voice flat, even, because if she doesn’t, she’s going to cry.

Puck stops chewing and stares at her. “You can’t. There needs to be a Grimm in Ferryport Landing.”

“Not all of us,” Sabrina says. “Granny’s staying. But Mom and Dad, and me, and Daphne… we’re leaving. Dad says town is ‘too dangerous.’”

“This is about the stupid ‘Scarlet Hand’ or whatever.” It’s not a question.

“Did they talk to you?” Sabrina asks.

“Nah,” Puck says. “Everyone knows I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina says. Because they’re friends. He’s her best friend, better than Wendell, even, even though Wendell goes to school with her and they’re in soccer together and he gave her a valentine last year that he’d picked out especially for her, the only one in the pack with a lollipop and a sticker.

“I won’t join anything that I can’t be the leader of,” Puck adds, because he can’t just be honest, ever. That’s okay, though. Sabrina understands. Honesty is hard.

She sits down on the edge of the pool, feels rough concrete under her hands, looks at the murky water, the level dropped low enough that she can dangle her feet in and only the very bottoms of her shoes touch it as they sway back and forth.

“When?” Puck asks.

“By the end of the year,” Sabrina says. “Mom got a job, and Dad asked me if I wanted—” her breath hitches, half anger and half rage— “if I wanted to help him pick out an apartment. Like this was exciting.”

“You could run away,” Puck suggests.

Sabrina laughs without humor.

“Plenty of woods,” Puck says. “You don’t have to stay here. Hey, I know! You could go up to the asylum with the other crazy little girls!”

Sabrina halfheartedly throws a piece of concrete at him. It clatters down the side of his trash mountain nowhere near him and rolls to a stop nearly at her other hand, still resting on cracked cement.

“Mr. Canis would find me,” Sabrina says, at length. “And they’d just make me go, anyway.”

“How? The old lady can’t leave, and neither can he. Just run away again before one of your parents comes to get you.”

“And leave Daphne?”

The younger girl practically worships the both of them. Losing Puck is going to be hard enough for her, but losing Puck and Sabrina… It’ll break her heart. And there’s no question about bringing Daphne with them. 

For a long time, neither of them say anything. Sabrina had sort of been hoping Puck would have an answer. A real one, one that would work.

“You can visit,” he says at last. “They can’t keep you away forever.”

“Yeah,” she says. Because Mom had said that, too. Said that they could come back on weekends and over holidays, as long as Granny said things seemed safe.

She looks up at the boy she’s known for half her life, who’s been her best friend almost as long, who she’s going to stop being able to see soon. He’s been exactly the same the whole time she’s known him. When she sees him next, she’s going to be closer to his height. She might even outgrow him.

She knew it might happen. They don’t talk about it, but they both know. Someday, Sabrina’s going to have to be an adult, and Puck won’t. She’s not sure she wants to be an adult, but she doesn’t think she wants to be stuck, either. Doesn’t want to be powerless forever.

There’s nothing else to do, though, so she rolls her head to look at Puck upside-down, who’s eating another Milky Way, and says, “Pass me one of those.”

*

There are Everafters in New York City, of course. Sabrina sneaks out over the weekends, meets Puck’s brother. Gets in trouble. Finds out the Scarlet Hand is here, too. Tells her dad, hopes it’ll get them moved home. It doesn’t, it just gets her in a different kind of trouble. She doesn’t care, keeps sneaking out to get in the right kind of trouble, the kind that means she’s part of her family, still sort of connected to Puck.

In three years, when the barrier comes crumbling down, and the Everafters start trying, really and truly, to take over the world, it pays off. Because now nowhere is safe. And she wants to tell her dad she told him so, but she’s busy trying to watch the news that her parents won’t let her see and find out if her friends are safe and everything is loud and angry and dangerous and she tried to prepare but it wasn’t enough.

They still make her go to school. It’s stupid. None of this matters, and she tells them that over and over, but they make her go anyway, and when she’s proven right because there’s a lockdown on the third day since the Everafters declared war, she’s just angry about it.

She’s hiding in the bathroom with two other girls who got caught between classes, and the other two are crying, when noises come down the hall in their direction. Sabrina looks around for something she can use as a weapon. 

The door swings open.

Sabrina prepares herself for a fight.

She’s hit in the face before she can do anything, by a small projectile—a bullet? Since when do Everafters use guns? She’d have thought getting shot would hurt more.

She looks down. No blood on the ground. 

Just a green skittle.

She doesn’t have to look up to know who’s going to say “Hey, Grimm.” She doesn't know what's coming next, but as soon as she hears Puck's voice, she knows the can handle it. Together.

[kanerallels]

Ok ok eeee!!! I'm so excited! Okay, how about a Kanera princess and the frog au?! I was thinking the scene where they turn into frogs (or should it be lothcats?) Aka when she has to kiss him and then the line "how did I get down here, and how did you get all the way up there?" Until they have to fly away on ballons at the party? (Maybe Chopper can be the dog and Hera's just like "My dog just talked?!") Lol I'm so excited cause I know how good you are at AUs, congrats on 111!!😍

Heck yes my favorite Disney movie let's GO!!!!

Pairing: Hera Syndulla/Kanan Jarrus

Word Count: TBD, I'm on mobile

Tags/Warnings: G (for green. It's the green, it's the green, it's the green that Kanan needs...)

In the dressing room of her best friend’s bedroom, Hera changed out of her stained brown dress and slipped into the shimmering dark blue dress Omega had provided her with. In the other room, she could hear Omega chattering excitedly about the charming Jedi who’d shown up-- Kanan Jarrus, the apprentice of the deeply respected Depa Billaba. He’d swept Omega off her feet almost immediately, although from what Hera had heard, the young man had quite the reputation for such things.

Hera couldn’t focus on her friend’s words, though. In her mind, she could only replay the moment when she’d heard that she’d been outbid for the ship she was trying to buy. With it, she’d be free, to explore the galaxy by herself, not dependent on anyone.

But tonight, she’d gotten the news from the salesman himself-- they’d handed it off to someone with more money. She could still hear the man’s condescending words echoing in her ears-- a little woman of your… well, species, would have had her hands full trying to run a ship on her own. You’re best where you’re at.

Best where I’m at? Hera thought, frustration boiling through her veins. Working two jobs, sacrificing any semblance of fun or enjoyment just so she could save enough, scrimping and saving and making so many hard choices, and just when she thought she’d had a chance? It was all gone.

She stepped into the main bedroom as Omega was saying, “You know, I was starting to think that wishing on stars was just for babies, and crazy people.” She paused as Hera came into view, and a smile crossed her face. “Well, aren’t you just as pretty as a magnolia in May?” Taking a silver-and-blue headpiece from the chest of drawers in front of her, she brought it over and placed it on Hera’s head, saying, “Seems like only yesterday we were younger, dreaming our fairy tale dreams-- and tonight, they’re both coming true!”

Hera couldn’t bring herself to correct her friend, and Omega was so excited she didn’t even notice Hera’s silent demeanor. It was only seconds later that she swept back out into the party, leaving Hera alone in her room.

Reaching into the pocket of her stained dress, she pulled out the flimsi advertisement for a VCX-100 ship she’d found when she was little. Her mother had always encouraged her in this dream-- her father was a little more skeptical. Still, the memory of Eleni Syndulla holding her close as she excitedly talked about the ship she’d own one day was enough to make tears prickle in Hera’s eyes.

Moving out onto the balcony, she stared out at the Rylothian landscape, determined not to cry. But she’d been so close. So kriffing close, and she’d lost it all again. It was hard to imagine attempting this again, after how hard she’d work the first time-- and now she had to start over?

Releasing a shaky sigh, Hera blinked away her tears and lifted her gaze up to the sky. Her eyes landed on one of the stars-- the brightest one, that her mother had always told her and Omega stories about when they were little. A star you could make a wish upon, and it would always come true.

It was just a story for children. But in her current emotional state, Hera was about ready to believe anything.

Her gaze darted around the balcony. Finding it empty, Hera muttered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” All the same, she lifted her gaze to the star and internally made her wish. Please. Please.

She closed her eyes for just a moment, then opened them, knowing nothing had changed. Wishes only came true in stories. Hard work was the only thing that would ever get her anywhere.

As it turned out, something actually had changed. Hera’s gaze drifted to the left, and her eyes went wide at the sight of a frog perched there. She wasn’t exactly a fan of frogs, if she was being honest, although she had nothing personal against them.

Remembering one of the other stories her mother had told her and Omega, a small smile tugged at Hera’s lips. “So what now?” she said, directing the comment at the frog. “I suppose you want a kiss?”

“I’m not about to say no to it,” the frog said with a smirk.

Hera wasn’t exactly proud of how she reacted next. But coming face to face with a frog that sounded like a grown man who thought he was more charming than he actually was? That was too much for her. Letting out the closest sound to a scream she’d made in years, she stumbled backwards and crashed into a shelf full of Omega’s things.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” the frog said, hastily hopping towards her. “I didn’t mean to startle you--”

He cut himself off with a yelp as he leapt to avoid a book from Omega’s shelf. And then a holodisk. The tooka doll Hera threw actually hit him, although it didn’t make much of a difference. Leaning his forearms on it, he remarked, “You’ve got a strong arm, Princess.”

Hera responded by grabbing the vibroblade Omega’s brothers had given her, and the frog’s eyes widened. “Please don’t--”

He dove out of the way just in time as the knife embedded itself point first in the wooden floor, and jumped up on top of the chest of drawers. “Okay, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kanan Jarrus, Jedi--”

Hera slammed a cup she’d found over him, neatly trapping him. “--Knight,” he finished. “What the kriff?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hera snapped. “How would you like me to react to a talking frog??” And then his words caught up with her. “Wait. Jedi Knight? If you’re the Jedi Knight, who’s that down there charming Omega?” she demanded, releasing the cup without thinking.

Kanan immediately shoved the cup off of him with a grunt, letting it roll free. “How would I know?” he pointed out. “All I know is one minute, I’m a dashing Jedi Knight, handsome, excellent dancer, I might add--” Hera rolled her eyes extensively-- “and then I’m stuck with these.” He thrust one webbed foot in her direction, wobbling towards her dangerously, and Hera grabbed a book nearby in defense.

“Wait!” Kanan all but shouted, his eyes going wide. “Wait, wait-- I know that story! The one with the frog who used to be a prince-- what’s it called…?”

“‘The Frog Prince’?” Hera deadpanned.

“Exactly!” Kanan waved for her to hand over the book, almost toppling over under the weight. He managed to get it settled against the mirror, and flipped it open. “I used to hear this story all the time in the Creche. This-- this is it! This is the solution!” Turning towards Hera, he said, “You-- must kiss me.”

“Excuse me??”

Moving to his feet, Kanan directed her a charming grin that probably worked on most women when they were not incredibly irritated by him, and he was also not a frog. “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it. All women do.”

“That’s revolting,” Hera told him flatly.

“I doubt you’ll be saying that soon,” Kanan said, his grin widening as he leaned forward-- and then the sac under expanded out, and Hera jerked back in alarm. “That’s new,” he assured her.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Hera said, which was only mostly a lie, “I wish I could help you. But I don’t kiss frogs, and I certainly won’t kiss you.”

“Wha-- you literally asked me back on the balcony!” Kanan protested, the alarm on his face growing.

“It was sarcasm!” Hera snapped. “And I certainly didn’t expect you to answer. There’s absolutely no way I’m kissing you.”

“Come on-- look, not only am I incredibly good-looking, but I’m with the Jedi Order,” Kanan pointed out. “I can make sure you’re rewarded handsomely for this. Surely there’s gotta be something you want, some wish we could grant?”

Despite herself, Hera’s eyes flicked to the flimsi poster for the VCX-100 that had gone flying across the room in the kerfuffle. But this was stupid. It was just a ship, she didn’t need it that badly.

Yet even as she thought the words, she knew it wasn’t true. It was more than a ship for her, it was freedom. It was a dream she’d had for as long as she could remember. And if there was a way to attain it…

“Just one kiss?” she asked, wavering.

“Unless you beg for more,” Kanan said, smirking.

That decided it. If it was only to get rid of this pain in the neck, Hera would do it. “Deal,” she said, nodding.

The frog instantly puckered his lips, closing his eyes, and Hera reeled backwards. It was just… gross. The idea of pressing her lips against those of a decidedly slimy looking--

She pushed that thought out of her mind, replaced it with the image of the VCX she’d own after this, and lunged forward to kiss the frog.

The moment her lips met his, greenish light flashed over them, and Hera felt it engulf her. Everything went black.

She didn’t know how long later her eyes slid open, but when they did, she was enveloped with some kind of blue fabric. Shoving it off of her, she looked up and saw a wide-eyed Kanan staring down at her. Except he was still a frog.

“.......kriff,” he whispered.

Uncomprehending, Hera blinked hard. “You look remarkably like a frog. Still. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome? But why are you up there? And what am I doing down here, with all this--”

She glanced down at the pool of fabric, seeing the green of her skin against it. But there was something different about it. Something off with the texture and the feeling of it.

Also, she was missing a finger.

Hera jerked to the side and caught sight of herself in a mirror. The face of a frog stared back, and she let out an undignified shriek. “What--” With a leap that was entirely instinct, she flew to the top of the dresser and crashed into Kanan, bowling him over. “What did you do to me?” she demanded, staggering to her feet.

“Easy-- don’t panic,” Kanan attempted to calm her. “It’s not so bad.”

“YOU TURNED ME INTO A FROG! WHAT PART OF THAT ISN’T BAD? I’M COVERED IN SLIME!”

Catching hold of her hand, Kanan said soothingly, “No, no-- it’s not slime. You’re secreting mucus.”

That was the last straw for Hera. She narrowed her eyes in a death glare at Kanan, and his eyes went wide just as she tackled him across the room. They crashed into a cushioned stool, bouncing up, slamming against a shelf, then down again and landing on a precariously balanced sniper rifle of Omega’s. Before Hera could act on the many threats she had boiling in her head, a book toppled off the shelf and landed on one end of the rifle, catapulting both her and Kanan out of the room, over the balcony and into the party below.

They plummeted towards the band below, landing on the drums. The drummer, a big male Togruta, instantly went after them with his drumsticks as they both dove away from him and attempted to make a break for it.

Hera heard the other band members start a faster song to match the renewed tempo as she and Kanan went flying through the air and landed on the nearest person. Unfortunately, it happened to be Omega. And it was less landing then falling down the back of her dress.

She started hopping around frantically with yelps of shock. As they were jolted around, Kanan remarked, “You know, for a costume ball, you’d think they’d be a little more welcoming!”

“This is not the time for jokes,” Hera snarled.

As Omega toppled over, the two of them managed to escape out of her voluminous hoop skirt, just in time to hear Hunter, Omega’s father figure/brother, shout, “CHOPPER! GET THE FROGS!”

Karabast. Hera caught sight of Chopper-- the tame vornskr that Hera had befriended-- jerk his head up, then bolt towards them. Next to her, Kanan grabbed her hand. “Run!”

As he leapt from the skirt to the nearby buffet table, flying past the shocked Kanan-lookalike, Hera snapped, “I can’t run, I’m a frog, thanks to you!”

“Then hop!” They landed on the buffet table, Hera almost slipping off the edge. Kanan hauled her up quickly and the two of them started hopping frantically down the table as Chopper came flying after them, scrabbling at the tablecloth. “Down!” Kanan shouted. “Down, you kriffing monster dog!”

Chopper did not listen, partially because he was not a dog, and partially because he was Chopper. Kanan and Hera kept going-- straight towards a pair of guests. One of them brandished a fake sword that looked a little too sharp, and swung at them viciously. At the exact same time, the man next to him, wearing a boga hat, ducked, and the sword severed the top of the hat. The hat dropped on top of Kanan and Hera, effectively covering their vision.

The next few minutes were a haze of chaos-- shouting and yelling and a lot of running. Finally, the boga hat came off of them, and both Kanan and Hera went flying forward, tangling in the strings of a bundle of balloons.

Hera frantically tried to disentangle herself as she spotted Chopper still charging towards them. “Wait! Chopper!” she shouted.

Kanan had other ideas. Grabbing the string of balloons, he jerked them free. “Going up!”

As the balloons zipped up into the air, Chopper lunged for them, and Hera shouted, “Chopper, it’s me, Hera!”

“Hera?” the vornskr gasped.

Before Hera could react to that, Chopper plummeted back to the ground, and they continued upwards.

“Chopper just talked,” Hera managed as Kanan grabbed her by the hand, pulling her up so she could grab onto some of the balloons. “The vornskr talked.”

His voice irritated, Kanan said, “You know, if you’re going to let every little thing bother you, this is going to be an even longer night!”

As they flew away from the party, Hera shot Kanan an unseen glare. The sooner she got away from this pain in the neck, the better. She had a bad feeling that wasn’t going to go as well as she hoped, though.

[bts-storys]

Bathing a bomb (m)

Author: bts-storys

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Rating: mature content, 18+

Genre: Strangers to lovers/ Lush Store AU/ Smut

Word Count: 5,901

Summary: Your job at the Lush store isn’t what you would call extremely exciting. That is until one customer just won’t stay out of the shop. And for that matter he won’t stay out of your head either.

Warnings: oral (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, graphic description of sex, penetration, lots of stuff with hands, because I feel like that's what lush is essentially about, Seokjin being handsome as ever, some daydreaming about a shower

A/N: I changed my narrative perspective a bit, I hope everything sounds better now. I won't lie, this piece gave me a real hard time, so happy so present to you what I worked on the last weeks.

„Damn it! “

You flinch when you hear an angry voice right on the other side of the wall, sitting upright again in the process. The door bursts open and someone marches right into the break room.

“Are you okay, June?”, you carefully ask your co-worker. When you catch a glimpse at her hands you cock an eyebrow. “Did you touch the lilac soap again?”

“Yes, for god’s sake!”, she grumbles while digging in her bag. “I hate this damn allergy!”

“I told you to wear some gloves or at least call me to take care of it instead”, you say in a judging tone.

“I know, I forgot them. And you’re on break Y/N!” She looks at you with an apologetic expression while opening a jar of cream from her bag.

You laugh. “Well I was until now. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the customers and you do something about your hands, you look like an angry lobster.”

You put your coffee aside and your customer smile back on your face. Walking through the door, the overwhelming smell of hundreds of different scents washes right over you. When you first started working at the Lush store a few months prior, you found yourself with a headache at the end of every day from smelling so much all the time. When you had told June about it, she gave you a painkiller and assured you it would get better soon. She was right at the end and you grew into loving all the different scents. Nothing relaxes you more than the familiar fragrances in the store after a hard day of studying. You shake your head to get rid of the memory.

Even though June had been working here far longer, she just can’t deal with her lilac allergy due to her extreme stubbornness. Nara, your other co-worker is talking to a customer so you get back to one of the shelves and finish putting in the soap. Right at the last piece, someone behind you makes a coughing noise.

“Ehrm- Excuse me?”

You turn around. The speaker is a tall guy at least one head-length taller than you. He has broad shoulders and the most handsome face you have ever seen. His skin has a perfect shine as if he uses the exact right amount of moisturizer every day and his head looks perfectly shaped. His black hair matches his dark coat and the pair of boots he wears. His body-position gives off a high level of self-confidence, much contrary to his worried expression. His complete appearance is quite overwhelming and it takes you a second or two to get over yourself.

“Hi, what can I do for you?”, you smile at him.

He smiles back at you and you feel your heartbeat increase. “I was wondering… how many different bath bombs do you sell at the moment?”

Inwardly, you let out a sigh. Chances are pretty small, a handsome man like him would ask about bath bombs without the intention of giving them to a boyfriend or girlfriend. On the outside you maintain your customer smile.

“Right now, we have 20 different types of bath bombs here at the store. Do you have a specific fragrance you’re looking for?”

“N-No, not exactly. I want all of them…please.”

You look at him with confusion. “You want to buy every bath bomb in this store?!!”

“No!”, he quickly corrects. “I want to buy one of every type, if that’s possible.”

You start to laugh.

“I’m so sorry”, you tell him after getting a hold of yourself. “Of course, that’s possible, let’s grab a basket for you.”

He sends you a smile that gets right to your core. “Don’t worry, I know that it's a weird request. You have a cute laugh though.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, quickly turning around, reminding yourself that he is still a customer.

“Thank you, Sir. Let’s get to those bath bombs.”

“It’s Seokjin, actually. Please don’t call me ‘Sir’.”

You hide your surprise behind a straight face. “Okay Seokjin, follow me, please.”

You get to the counter where the bath bombs are stored, aware that he is right behind you. While filling the little basket with colorful shapes, you just can’t resist the curiosity.

“Soo, is there a reason to your special request?”, you ask him while scanning the stacks for more bombs.

“Um, I guess I just want to know what color they would produce. You know, all together.”

You turn around again, seeing him gulp.

“You want to use them all at once?” You try not to sound like you are laughing at him again, maintaining a neutral expression. “I’m finished by the way, so follow me to the checkout, please.”

You get behind the cash register, scanning the items before dropping them into a bag.

“Should I pack them as a gift?”, you try asking without raising his suspicion. Maybe he is still getting them for his SO or whatsoever even though it seemed like he was flirting with you for a brief moment.

“No, thank you”, he says, looking right into your eyes. The dark brown of his iris seems to pull you in, until you snap out of it after a few seconds. He pays and takes the bag from your hand. His gaze lingers on your form behind the apron you are wearing and you feel your breath hitch for a second.

Then the moment is over.

“Thank you for your kind consultation, Y/N.”, he says with a look at the tag on your shirt. At the mention of your name, you feel heat shooting through your body like he just set you on fire. Suddenly, you find it difficult to concentrate when he gives you one last look and leaves the store.

“DID GOD SEND US AN ANGEL TO GET 20 BATH BOMBS?!”, you hear June yell behind you.

“Who the hell was that, Y/N?��

“That was Seokjin and he wants to know what color they would produce all at once”, you answer like you’re in a trance.

“He WHAT- now?!”

For the next few days you try not to think about Seokjin too much. To tell the truth, you fail miserably. The main reason to that is certainly June who just won’t let go of the story, but if you are honest, you think about him as well. Even without her help. Seokjin piqued your interest and you want to know more about him.

You even start looking him up on social media in your work breaks but either he doesn’t have any public appearance or your fbi skills just aren’t good enough to find him.

The next week starts without any major events if you don’t count the old man who tries to eat a whole bar of shower soap and the middle-aged woman who just won’t understand the usage of a massage bar. After the third attempt of explaining she doesn’t need a lighter for the process, she just leaves and you try to stay calm. Suddenly, you hear someone call your name from behind.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You turn around and immediately feel like you’re not ready for the sight you’re greeted with. Seokjin is wearing a white, half-transparent shirt with long sleeves combined with skinny black pants.

They look too tight.

Your lungs feel tight too.

He even remembered your name. And how the hell are you fangirling over someone you only met once before?! A quick look around shows that both Nara and June are busy with customers so you pull yourself together and return his smile.

“Seokjin. How can I help you today?”

For a moment he looks a bit lost but quickly recovers.

“I loved how everything smelled the last time I was here, so I thought I’d get something else. You do sell shower gel, right?”

“Yeah, of course”, you say, turning around to get to the other side of the shop. While walking in front of him you try to relax your shoulders a bit.

Arriving at the shower themed area you try to get back to being professional again.

“Do you have anything special in mind? Maybe some ingredient you like?”, you ask him while scanning the stacks.

Your gaze comes to a halt when you spot a sign right next to his handsome face saying “prince charming”. Normally, you love the shower gel that is advertised, but right now you curse whoever chose its name. The real prince charming in front of you has the audacity to smirk at your irritation.

“I like products that smooth my skin when I’m in the shower”, he says looking you dead in the eye. “Maybe something that feels good when you apply it.”

You can’t do anything about it, the picture just appears in front of your inner eye. Seokjin standing in the shower, water floating over his shaped body. He rubs his damped skin with nourishing oils, his lips sinfully parted. His body looks perfect surrounded by the steam from the hot water. You visibly shudder.

“Are you cold?”, Seokjin asks, bringing you back to reality.

“N-No!”, you hastily say. Quickly, you grab a bar with a minty color from the shelf, showing it to him.

“What about this one? It’s really good for your skin, it’s based on natural ingredients.”

He leaves you completely stunned when he takes your hand into his, bringing the bar to his nose. His palm is soft and warm, embracing your small fingers with his. You feel like you float and the feeling tingles. Every inch of your body is on edge, not missing a single second of the moment. His touch is light and gentle, giving you the opportunity to pull away. Obviously, you don’t. Further, you don’t even breathe until he lets go of you again.

“Yeah, it smells nice", he says. "I’ll take it."

Your wobbly legs take the two of you to the checkout, where you wrap the soap bar.

“Do you work here every day?”, Seokjin asks you casually. “If you don’t mind answering”, he adds.

“I don’t”, you smile. “I work from Monday ‘til Thursday after my college courses.”

He looks impressed. “You study and work at the same time?”

You laugh at his expression. “Something has to pay the rent, right? Also working here is more fun than it looks like.”

“I mean, if you like working in a giant flower meadow, then yeah”, he jokes. “What’s your major though?”

“International Management”, you say sheepishly. “Probably not the most interesting- “

“Awesome!”, he exclaims. “I work in the management area myself, you know.”

“You do?” Secretly, you had put him into modeling or maybe he really was an angel like June had noted multiple times.

“I work at a small music label with some of my friends”, he explains further. “Maybe we could- “

You don’t get to hear what he wants to say.

“Y/N? Can you please go and help June? I swear to god if she touches that damn soap one more time, I’ll tie her hands behind her back!!”, Nara shouts at you from the other side of the store.

“I’m sorry.”

You and Seokjin both apologize at the same time.

“Here’s your recipe”, you smile and hand him the package with his purchase.

“It was nice talking to you Y/N”, Seokjin says, giving you one last look before leaving the store.

You look at his broad back longingly before rushing to get to June before Nara can live up to her promise.

On Friday, you start your day off with working on an essay for your finance course. After finishing a couple of pages, you get ready to meet June at the fairground. Apparently, her roommate works there, selling crêpes which are “not from this world, maybe even from another galaxy”, as June claims.

At the end of the day you wonder if you may have lost some of your sanity, because on the weekend you can’t stop thinking about Seokjin at all. The picture of him touching your hands and looking at you in such a deep way seems to be burned into your brain. You also start to ask yourself if he feels the same about you. He must have felt something the second time he went to buy the shower bar. At least you hope he did. Maybe you’re completely out of place and he was just being himself? It’s not only the girls who get mistaken when they’re just being super nice, you remind yourself.

You could ask him out the next time he buys something. If there is a next time. Or would that be unprofessional at your workplace?

Without finding a solution to your problem, you nervously wait for the next workday to arrive. Who doesn’t arrive though is the person in question. June comments on your stiffness a few times but other than that nothing happens the entire week. You’re exhausted from studying and working afterwards but most of all from wondering if you will meet Seokjin again.

The next Monday comes and goes while your hope slowly dies. On Tuesday, you’re stacking up some massage bars catching yourself daydreaming. You can see Seokjin right in front of you. He’s wearing a dark blue sweater that makes a great contrast to his skin tone and reminds you of a deep ocean.

Only then you realize that he is indeed standing right in front of you. You’re not dreaming, you’re staring and it’s getting damn awkward.

“Seokjin!”, you screech, quickly trying to change to professionalism again.

“Hi, Y/N”, he says, completely oblivious to your thoughts. He’s really here, you think, getting more and more excited. It’s as if someone just lifted a grey filter and every color gets brighter again.

He points at the bar in you hand. “What’s that?”

“That’s a massage bar”, you say, happy he picked a topic other than you ogling him. “It can be used for a massage or as a body lotion after showering. It contains cocoa butter and mineral oils.”

The shower image comes to your mind again but you quickly shove it back.

“Sounds lovely”, he says and for a split second his gaze falls to your lips. At least you think it does. Internally you take a deep breath, working up some courage. “Do you want to try it?”, you ask in a rush.

He looks surprised but quickly recovers, nodding and pulling up one sleeve. You’re greeted with the sight of his slender hand and the visible veins running down his arm. Holding back a shiver while taking his hand you softly rub some of the product onto his skin. Then you start massaging the back of his hand with gentle strokes. Your gaze lingers for a moment and your heart most definitely skips a beat when you look up again. All the angelic features of Seokjins face have vanished. His eyes are half closed and he looks almost sinful. A small noise escapes his parted lips and you think you might faint.

It feels exciting and intimidating to touch him like this.

In the middle of the store you’re working at.

For each and every one to see.

When the realization hits you, you drop his hand in embarrassment. His eyes snap open and he looks equally as shocked as you are. He takes a step back in the same moment you find your voice again.

“I’m sorry, do you- eh do you like the product? Should I pack it for you?”, you ask, trying to deescalate the situation.

“Huh?” Seokjin looks at you like he sees you for the first time today. “Ah no, thank you! I-I think I need to leave, actually.”

Before you can even do so much as blink, he rushes out of the door. You’re left with the massage bar in your hand and your heart at your feet. How come you didn’t notice it was involved until now? Why did he leave, did you do something wrong?

You feel like you’re about to cry but fight it successfully. Okay, maybe you did develop a crush on a customer. And maybe some part of you was convinced that it was mutual and Seokjin had a thing for you as well. Obviously, he had not.

The last time someone ran from you as fast as he did was at a fetching game in elementary school. Either way, now is definitely not the time to dive further into your feelings. While leading another customer through the store, June brushes your shoulder.

“What the hell did just happen?”, she whispers, keeping up her façade smile at the same time. You just shake your head, unable to answer because honestly you don’t know. Maybe you did cross a line but at the same time you felt like Seokjin had actually liked it.

The rest of the shift you work on auto-pilot. Your customer smile never fades but inside you feel empty. Even if you had interpreted every sign Seokjin gave you wrong, you felt as if there was a connection between the two of you. How could you be so false about that?

By the end of the day you feel exhausted, looking forward to crying in some of your pillows. Maybe there’s still ice cream left in your refrigerator. A miserable scene starts playing in your head and you quickly shake it off, as you finish cleaning the last counter.

“I’m heading home, okay?”, you exclaim, earning a thumbs up from Nara and a worried look from June. Luckily, she stays silent giving you the space you need right now. With your jacket and bag draped over one arm you leave the store. It’s dark outside but still pretty warm. Only a few people are out, most of them heading home as well now.

Maybe the rejection will hurt less in a few days, you think to yourself. Just as you turn around the corner, someone tall bumps into you. You squeak and jolt backwards when you realize who you just ran into. Seokjin. It had to be him out of all people. A thousand different thoughts cross your mind.

How do you react? What is he doing here? Did he come back to talk to you? Should you be angry at him?

Your stupid heart betrays you by skipping a beat and then starting a race in your chest. Still, it starts to hurt just as much when you hear his voice again.

“Y/N!” He seems to be just as surprised as you are. “Shit, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

Even with a shocked look on his face he’s still gorgeous and you feel like crying again. Avoiding his gaze, you look down and realize that he’s waiting for an answer.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine don’t worry.”

Even a total stranger would notice the shakiness of your voice. You really need to escape this situation. Now.

“Look, I’m okay. I’ll just head home now, so… have a great evening.”

You awkwardly try to shuffle past him but he catches your arm holding you back.

“No, please wait!”

He’s so close now that you can smell his cologne. Something really sweet mixed with soap that makes you want to get closer to him. Instead, you try to free yourself from his grip. You still don’t know why he left earlier and it hurts being near him.

“Let me go please, I need to- “

“Just listen to me, I swear I’ll make it quick!”, he interrupts you.

His voice sounds really desperate which is why you feel yourself slowly nod.

“I owe you an apology for what happened today.” After his first words the scene starts to play in your head again and you slightly stiffen at the memory.

“I’m really sorry that I just left like that. It wasn’t your fault at all, I was just- you know I- shit this is embarrassing.” He sighs, stumbling over his own words.

By now you’re even more confused than before.

“I don’t understand”, you say. “Why did you leave?”

Seokjin runs a hand through his hair. You can see that he’s frustrated but you don’t know why.

“Ah, fuck it”, he mutters under his breath and then looks right into your eyes.

“The first time I came to the store, it was because I lost a bet with my friends”, he admits in a rush. “I felt stupid and embarrassed, but you were so nice and extremely cute so the next time I came, it was because I wanted to see you again.”

The world stops spinning. At least you feel like it does, because you’re suddenly out of air after his confession. He came to see you?

Not noticing any of this, Seokjin continues.

“I know, it may sound really creepy, I realize that, but you seemed to be having a good time as well, so I figured you felt the same?” At this he pushed his fingers through his hair again. It’s an irritating gesture because you know you shouldn’t stare at them like you do right now.

A tiny part of you wishes he would touch you instead.

“One time I almost asked you out, but we got interrupted and I lost my courage, I guess. And when I saw how shocked you were today after what happened, I just thought that I completely misinterpreted everything. I didn’t want you to feel pressured if you really don’t feel the same, that’s why I left. So- yeah, I realize now that I probably acted like an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“You were an idiot, that’s true.”

Seokjin looks startled.

Gaining courage, you openly smile at him.

“I feel the same about you”, you softly say. “Talking to you is so easy, I feel like I could do it all day. I’m sorry I reacted like this back in the store, I just remembered where we were and you’re a customer…I panicked.”

You take a deep breath.

“And when you left, I felt devastated. One moment you’re there and it’s going great and we're touching and the next second you run off. It just hurt…” Your last words are only a whisper escaping your lips.

At some point during your confession, Seokjin decided to take a step closer, now standing only inches away from you and his scent is all around you again.

“So, you liked touching me?”, he asks with a small smirk on his lips. Those beautiful pink lips you want to feel so badly. You quickly nod, heat rushing through your cheeks.

“And Y/N”, he says while moving the last bit closer. “Do you feel like panicking right now?”

“I don’t think so. “

His lips are on yours in an instant. Everything becomes less important to the feeling of Seokjin kissing you. It’s as if the whole world went silent at once just so you won’t get interrupted.

When his thumb starts caressing your cheek, you part your lips, giving him access to your mouth. His tongue plays with your lower lip before licking into you softly. He tastes amazing and you feel yourself getting lost, when he suddenly pulls away.

“This is okay, right?” he asks, panting heavily.

Instead of answering, you pull him in again. This time it’s different though. The first kiss was sweet and new. This one is pure hunger. You feel your skin burn where he touches you on top of your shirt. In return, you let your hands wander beneath his blue sweater, tracing his skin with your fingers. Seokjin growls against your mouth.

He then starts to tilt your head so he can bring his lips to your neck. And boy, he knows what he’s doing. His lips place wet kisses on your sensible skin and when he starts sucking right below your ear, a tiny moan escapes your lips. At this you push lightly against his chest. Again, this is sadly not the right place. You’re still out on a street.

He takes the hint and stops kissing you. His lips look swollen and wet and you have to force yourself not to kiss him again. He opens his mouth, possibly to say anything including some stupid apology, but you quickly take his hand.

“Let’s continue this some place else. Maybe somewhere without an audience?”, you suggest.

Seokjin laughs, visibly relieved and starts pulling you into the direction he originally came from.

His voice seems darker than before. “I live right around the corner, we can go there.”

You hum in approval, not missing the fact that he doesn’t let go of your hand.

On the way to his apartment you keep up a small chat about some of your courses and the work Seokjin does. Still, you can feel the tension in the air between you. On the outside you maintain interested, when all you can think about is his skin against yours.

Finally, you arrive in front of a small building with a blue painted wooden door. Seokjin fumbles with his keys while you can only look at his beautiful hands. You crave his touch and the feeling of being in his arms. The door opens and he pulls you inside. A staircase later you’re in front of the apartment door.

“I do have a roommate, but he’s out of town at the moment”, he explains while unlocking the door. Inside the hall you don’t even get time to look at the furniture before Seokjin pushes you against the wall.

“God, you’re so beautiful”, he whispers right before he kisses you again.

His lips are rough, and you meet them with the same amount of hunger. After all, you missed them since the last touch. You can feel his hands on the back of your thighs when he suddenly lifts you up without missing a beat. His mouth is still working against yours but now you’re just too aware of a certain hardness between your legs that shoots heat through your spine.

You feel yourself getting wet and pray that he won’t notice.

When Seokjin flips his thumb over your hard nipple you can hardly hold back a moan. He searches for permission in your face and upon finding it, pulls your shirt over your head. He’s met with the sight of a mint green bralette hugging your breasts. When he’s teasing you again over the fabric, you’re forced to close your eyes, moaning his name in pleasure.

The next thing you feel is his mouth engulfing your nipple. It’s hot and wet and you automatically arch your back to get closer to the feeling. He swirls his tongue around you, drawing soft noises from your throat.

“Please don’t stop”, you beg while pulling at some soft strands of his hair.

“You’re driving me crazy, Y/N”, he admits. “I can’t wait to feel you.”

“Then don’t”, you simply say, tugging at the hem of his sweater. He complies, pulling it off and you gasp lightly at the sight of his naked torso. Your fingers trail down the lines of his shoulders and your lips connect again, this time it’s sweet and full of anticipation.

You can feel the wall behind you vanish as Seokjin starts walking towards his bedroom, never breaking the kiss. He lays you down on his bed as if you were made of glass and starts taking off your jeans in the same movement.

“Come and sit here, will you?”, he says.

You do as you’re told and when you meet his eyes again, you forget how to breathe. Seokjin is on his knees right in front of you, his black pants hanging loosely on his hips, his dark hair messy from your hands. You don’t even think he looks human anymore.

“Open your legs for me, princess.”

The new nickname makes you shiver, as well as the cold air meeting your wet panties as you comply. The man in front of you uses a long, slender finger to tug your underwear to the side and is rewarded with the sight of your glistening folds.

“You’re so wet princess, is this all for me?”

You moan as a response, unable to form a proper word in your head. No one has ever made you feel like this before.

Seokjin lowers his head and you lose every train of thoughts when you feel his tongue on you.

He licks up a stripe and your legs tremble out of pleasure. He starts sucking on your clit, leaving you a moaning mess, your hands grasping the sheets so you won’t lose balance.

Your breath hitches as Seokjin introduces a single digit to your entrance. His other hand is still holding you in place, while he works you up simultaneously with his tongue and finger. He starts pumping in and out faster, hitting your soft walls with every push. You’re on the edge, all you can think of is more, more.

“P-Please”, you say, breathing heavily. “I want to feel your cock inside of me. I need you. Now.”

He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“You think you can take me, princess?”, he asks while getting up.

You nod a bit nervous at the sight of Seokjin taking off his pants and boxers at once. He’s way bigger than you had imagined. Like the rest of his body even his cock looks perfectly shaped, his tip already wet with a few drops of precum. You bite your bottom lip, can’t help but stare at him in awe. It’s the first time you see him completely naked and you try to take everything in at the same time.

Seokjin starts to crawl above you, keeping eye contact while you shuffle back until you hit the bedside. He pulls you down again by your legs, bringing his lips to your ear.

“I keet imagining this moment since the first time we met. Your hands all over me, while I pound you into the mattress until you scream my name”, he whispers.

Your answer is a kiss. On his lips you can taste yourself, mixed with the same impatience you feel building up inside of you. You reach down, slipping a finger over the head of his cock, bringing it back up to your mouth. Seokjin looks like he’s about to choke. Next thing you know, your panties are abandoned and he’s rolling a condom on himself that just appeared out of nowhere.

“Look at me while I fill you up so good”, he demands as he positions himself at your entrance. You both sigh at the feeling of him entering you inch by inch. He pauses when he’s completely inside of you.

“How can you be so tight? Your little pussy was made for me, right princess?”

You feel your cheeks get red, but there is no time to be ashamed of anything.

When he starts moving, you can feel how big he really is with every push. Seokjin flips at your nipple again before his mouth is on yours again and your soft moans get mixed with needy whines. His left hand is stroking your curves, coming to a halt at your hip, to keep you in place while he starts to go deeper.

His lips find your neck and you mewl loudly when he bites down on it. The next second the short pain is gone as he licks over the hickey he just created.

All of the sudden, he lowers his pace and you feel him even more, stretching you out deliciously. With a small movement, he starts to hit you at a specific angle, still going slow and making you feel him all the way.

He presses light kisses behind your ear, whispering “You’re fucking gorgeous Y/N”.

And then you feel his hand between your legs.

Seokjin stops kissing you to look at your face as he starts stimulating your clit with his fingers while moving faster again. You moan uncontrollably at the pleasure that takes over you.

“P-Please!”, you choke out.

“What is it princess? You need to use your words. Tell me what you need.”

His hot breath is on your face. Never in your life has anyone made you feel so precious and vulnerable at the same time.

“Please, S-Seokjin! Make me cum, I need you!”, you whine, while he proceeds to push you to the edge with every hard plunge of his cock.

“Say my name again, princess, I’ll make you feel so good!” His clenched teeth tell you that he’s not far from coming himself. His fingers and the feeling of him bouncing in and out of you almost make you faint.

“Seokjin!”, you cry out and your world shatters as the orgasm rips through you. A few pushes after, you feel Seokjin spill himself into the condom.

You’re both painting heavily when he rolls off of you and you feel his gaze from the side.

You turn your head, giving him a soft smile and the look, he rewards you with, makes your face heat up again.

“I think that was the best sex I ever had”, you admit sheepishly, holding your breath for a few seconds before releasing it again.

Seokjin smiles his angelic smile and brushes a sweaty strand of hair behind your ear.

“Me too.”

For a moment you both remain silent. Then he clears his throat.

“I hope this isn’t too late, but I really meant what I said before. Will you go out with me Y/N?”

“Yes”, you say wholeheartedly. “I would love to. There’s only one last question I have.”

“And that is?”, he asks with a confused look.

“What color did that bathtub have at the end? You know, the one where you put all the bath bombs together?”

“Y/N, I swear to god…”, he says and the rest of the sentence is drowned out by your laughter.

© Bts-Storys, 2021. Do not copy or repost without permission.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading all of it! I'm still working on my smut writing skills, I hope you can see some improvement.

[skullrock]

the tree - Steve x Reader

12 days of Christmas fics, day 9 - the tree

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: Steve decorates the tree with his kids for their fifth Christmas. (early 90s au)

word count: 1.3k

warnings: it gets like a lil suggestive towards the end but, as they say, only if u squint

a/n: hi this is like... a major comfort fic for me!! when I was growing up I used to decorate the tree w my mom, dad, and brother, and learned a lot about my mom and dad through the ornaments they collected over the course of their relationship. decorating the tree was my favorite day of the year, and though we don’t do it anymore, I can at least live vicariously thru writing <3 hope u enjoy!

“You started without me?”

You whirl around to face Steve, who’s shrugging his snowy jacket off at the front door. Your kids, Lily and Audrey, jump off the floor and fly towards him. “Dad!”

“It’s me,” he smiles, bending down to hug them both. “I thought I told you guys to wait til I got home?”

“We couldn’t wait, daddy,” Audrey pouts. “You took too long!”

“I was gone for five hours!” he laughs. “Can’t believe mom let you.”

“They were very persuasive,” you beam.

“Yeah?” he asks, looking back at the girls. They were his pride and joy, his everything. His face always lit up when he walked through the door, or when he went to their preschool plays. He loved them more than anything in the world. You couldn’t get over his adoration for them - and their adoration for him.

“It sounds like maybe… maybe… it’s time for….” Steve grabs Lily and starts tickling her, giggling when she starts giggling.

“Dad, stop!” Lily shrieks, trying to twist away from him.

Audrey goes behind him and wraps her arms around his neck, jumping onto his back. “Daddy, don’t!”

“Oh, you want some, too?” he beams, reaching for Audrey, pulling her down and tickling her, too.

“Mommy, help!”

“Okay, tickle monster,” you say, walking over towards them. “Leave ‘em alone, it was my idea, anyw-“

“You!” Steve shouts, letting go of Audrey and grabbing you. “My own wife!”

“Steve -“ you laugh, and then shriek when he starts tickling you, too. “St- Steve! Stop!”

“Tickle monster stops for no one,” he says, but lets you go, both of you panting and giggling. You step forward to hug him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Missed you,” you say quietly.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m here now.”

Lily tugs on Steve’s jeans. “Daddy, tree!”

“Okay,” he says, pulling away from you. “Show me what you’ve done already.”

Lily and Audrey take him to the tree set up in the corner of your living room. It only had a few bulbs on it, but Steve always loved decorating the tree. He liked the nostalgia, and he especially liked all of the sentimental ornaments you’d both collected over the years. Every year for the past five years, he told Audrey and Lily the story for almost every ornament, and let them put it on the tree, sometimes lifting them up to get towards the top. It’d quickly become one of your favorite traditions, too.

“Here, look!” Audrey says, pointing at a snowman shaped ornament and tugging on Steve’s hand. “This one is me!”

It was a picture of Audrey when she was a newborn, her hair as thick as Steve’s. Steve looks at it, and even though he’d been the one who told her who it was, he still furrows his brows. “That’s not you.”

“Yeah huh!”

“Can’t be,” he says, trying not to smile. “You’re right here.”

“No, dad, it’s a picture!”

“That’s a baby,” Steve says, smile breaking through. “You’re not a baby now, are you?”

“No!” she shouts. “I’m five!”

“That’s right!” Steve laughs. “I’m kidding, sweetheart. That’s you.”

“Me!” Lily yells, pointing at her own picture. She was born on the same day and took after you, her eyes the same color as yours. They both took after their dad in terms of loudness.

Steve gasps. “Look at that! You’ve grown up so much!”

“Let’s add some more,” you say, sitting down on the floor, the rest of them following. Audrey climbs into Steve’s lap and Lily presses herself as close as possible so she can listen to him tell stories.

You pull out one that says Christmas, 1988. It was in the shape of a candy cane with a mouse propping it up. “This was our first Christmas together.”

“My mom bought us that,” Steve says, taking it from you. “So tacky.”

“What’s tacky?” Lily asks.

“It’s like when mom wore that neon green dress to prom.”

“Oh, shut up, Steve -“

“Here, go ahead and hang it Lil.” He passes it off to her and grabs another one. This one is a small wooden nutcracker. “This is from your house, right?”

“Yep. I think my first grade teacher gave me that.”

“Boring,” Steve says, handing it to Audrey. “Hide it somewhere.”

“You’re so mean!”

“Am not,” he says, leaning over to kiss your temple. “Just gotta keep the crowd entertained.”

You roll your eyes but smile. You grab another ornament - a snowman with a tiny picture frame. It had a picture of you and Steve in it from your second Christmas - Steve wore an extremely ugly sweater. “That’s tacky.”

“Yeah,” he says absentmindedly, taking it in his hands. “Girls, what do you think?”

“It’s my best picture of you and mom,” Audrey says, turning around in Steve’s lap to kiss his cheek. “Pretty.”

“Pretty,” Lily repeats. “Were you guys in lub?”

“In love? Yeah,” Steve smiles. “Or, I was, at least.”

“Oh, I was, too,” you assure him quickly. “I’d never been so in love. I still am.”

Steve smiles over at you while your daughters shout an awwwww!

“Was daddy, like, your prince?” Lily says, pushing herself harder into Steve to be closer.

“More like my knight in shining armor,” you say. They didn’t know about the Upside Down - and they hopefully never would - but Steve really was more like a knight than anything. And a prince. He’d saved your life in more ways than one. “Or, well, in a Members Only jacket.”

“I loved that jacket.”

“I did, too.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, leaning towards you again.

“Focus, daddy!” Audrey shouts, pulling his chin back towards the tree. Steve laughs and keeps going, grabbing ornaments and explaining their origins, then letting the girls put them on the tree. You leave after a while to make them hot chocolate, and the girls run into the kitchen, hugging your legs.

“Thank you mommy!” they say in unison.

“For what, babies?” you ask, grabbing their mugs.

“Hot choccy,” Audrey says, and you laugh - Steve says it that way and they’d both attached to it.

“We lub you,” Lily says, planting a kiss on your thigh.

Steve walks in, smiling. “I lub you, too,” he joins in, coming to lean on the counter next to you. You give their mugs and they leave, heading upstairs.

“Where’re they going?” you ask, handing Steve his mug.

“I told them they should go watch the Muppets,” he smirks, bumping his hips into yours. “Which means we are alone.”

“Interesting,” you smile. “That Members Only jacket comment must’ve really gotten to you, huh?”

“And the tree,” he says. “And you. And our pictures. I love you so much.”

You smile smugly. “The tree got you excited?”

“No,” he laughs, sitting his mug down so he could hug you. “I just love you. Okay?”

“I love you, too,” you sigh, pulling him in close. “Maybe we should watch Muppets.”

“We can,” he says, “but only if you sit by me.”

“Can do,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you, even if you called my prom dress tacky.”

“And I love you, even if you lost my Members Only jacket when we moved.”

“That was not my fault and you know it!”

“Definitely was,” Steve says, nodding, a piece of hair falling over his forehead. “It’s okay. I still love you.”

You kiss him. “Love you too, Steve.”

===

steve tags: @harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @gothackedalready @sassisaluxury @ willowrose99 @harringtown @write-from-the-heart @m-blasterrr @whimsicalwoodlands @anerroroccurrrrred @marvels-gurl @the-almond-dinger @ssanjuniperoo @darth-el @kurtsbuckethat @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @astil-be @troop-scoop @ilovebucketbarnes @mybestfriendthedingus @unknownherelm @metuel18 @magnitude101999 @lukeskisses @bethhxrmon @stevenismyboy @flyingrichardgrayson @scoopsahoy @strangest-hour @lucifer-reads @stevexscoops @prettysbliss @patientplum @theworriedman @quentin-smith @nelson-and-murdock​ @pterawaters​ @mpmarypoppins​

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Can I request how did I get so lucky with Levi? Please and thank you!😁

I really wrote hurt/comfort just like that once again i-

I really really loved writing this one, it's very different from a lot of things I've written before, I hope you like it

Warnings: none really, two Kuchels tho but I made sure you won't mix them up

Pairing: Levi/ reader

Tags: Modern au, hurt/comfort, daddy Levi strikes again

Caramel Apple

Levi's foot blocks the sleek vandyke brown door from opening more than a few inches. Your eyes flicker between him and in the interior, begging to get a glimpse of the very reason you find yourself at his door again but his mascular form doesn't allow you to see much, only the shadow of his black leather couch and a few grey and copper tiles from the fireplace. It only makes you sigh in frustration as your anger starts to boil inside of you.

You've always been adamant about never entering his home again and even though you're never about to break the rules you've set for yourself tonight feels like the last straw of your sanity has been pulled. Levi is purposely not offering you to get inside, counting on the fact that you won't ask for permission to enter anyways.

"Levi, seriously, I just want to see Kuchel." Your eyes glint with anger as you speak to him in a steady tone, trying to cover your anger in such a fake way.

His choice of words though never seems to mind your tormenting patience as he lifts the words slip off of the tip of his tongue "None can do for this weekend, I'm sorry!"

"What?" Your eyes widen, your hands slightly shake "Levi I haven't seen my daughter in a week!"

It's only natural of you to demand to see your little girl. For a week now Levi has been calling you back to back, every single night, announcing to you that Kuchel wanted to stay with him, that she misses him and that she won't stop crying at the hearing of having to part ways with her father. And even if the slight rejection of your motherhood by the five year old hurt you to the core you knew much better than to try and part the two. Your break up had indeed tortured her pour little soul; she was lost between having to stay at two different houses she was forced to adjust to two separate lifestyles and her attachment to her after was getting the best of her. She didn't even want to go to school if it wasn't Levi driving her there. You could only comply to her wishes.

"It's not my fault you have dates to go to." He never gives you a chance to reply though as his eyes bore into yours with the faintest tint of mischief. "I have the weekend off so I'm taking Kuchel to Disneyland."

Between wondering whether this was too far fetched and thinking about what clothes to pack for Kuchel, Levi felt panicked. His stoic mask didn't let him show any regards towards your barely visible face, but inside his heart sank to his stomach, leaving him feel numb.

It was the first time in the two years that you had broken up that he had ever done something so selfish to you. So far he had been the perfect co parent, picking up Kuchel almost everyday to drop her at her pre school, always making sure that your days with your daughter were arranged evenly. Overall there has been nothing you could negatively accuse him for and he's so proud of the profile he has kept.

In the last month he's been feeling so conflicted internally that it's become unbearable. He's been through miserable, never ending nights feeling alone and abandoned. You wouldn't bring yourself to understand, he knows that very well, so telling you is off the table. Though there nights he wants you and his daughter by his side, there are mornings he wants to wake up and see the two of you cuddled on the other side of the bed just like once before.

"I'm really going to have to ask you to leave." The sound of his tongue clicking is louder than the words that leave his mouth. As his eyes stare into yours with an unreadable feeling plastered on them you can feel that anger, the one that has been boiling in your stomach for so long, staring to eat away your insides. "Kuchel is asleep and I don't want her sleep disturbe-"

Your jaw drops and your words refuse to let go off your tongue. Any hopes of trying to remain civil tonight have been thrown out of the window because you're simply not having it. There's not much you can do from standing behind his front door though. No begging will ever even convince him to let down his guard and he'd be right. That was part of the reason you wouldn't enter his house amymore nonetheless.

"I miss my baby Levi, you're being so unfair!Doesn't Kou miss me?"

Levi flinches at the nickname. There's a restrain in his heart that won't allow him to speak of anyone in nicknames ever again and you're at fault, because every little thing in his life screams your fucking name and he despises it. Nowadays it's only him and Kuchel that seem to be on the same side.

"Her name is Kuchel."

He's so cynical that you might let out that salty tear -the one your left eye has tried so hard to push back- run down your cheek and stain your face. You can only endure so much refusal to see your baby's face. Her tiny voice in nowhere to be heard, her angelic face nowhere to be seen and you want to breakdown.

Why should Levi care, you're still puzzled as to why. The way you've treated him lately has been so brutal and he doesn't deserve it, you know he doesn't although your demons don't take anyone and anything into consideration. The small bleak of the door is symbolic to you, it's a gesture that he doesn't want to let you in, but he allows you to have a small leak of his grayscale paradise.

You shouldn't be in a place to beg with him since you are in the wrong. Kuchel isn't a doll that the two of you should play with, she's a lovely little girl with very real emotions who's trying to comprehend yours and Levi's bullshit. Your bullshit.

If Levi had it his way, you knew he'd keep Kuchel as far from you as he could and Kuchel would agree without a second thought.

Between his loud growls and your sobbing imitations you manage to wake Kuchel up for her peaceful slumber. Her little raven head peaks from the corner of the leather couch, hair sleek despite her sleeping position. It makes you groan how much she looks like him at every aspect of her life, personality and appearance alike. It is as if he had birthed her out of his womb, not you.

Maybe that is part of the reason you feel so strained away.

Or maybe it iss her unforgiving gaze that is identical to her father's.

She doesn't exactly sparkle when she sees you but you attribute that to her only having just woken up. A little fist rubs on her closed eye lid, sweeping a few eyelashes away. Levi makes sure to pick them up from her cheek when he takes her in his arms.

"Hey mommy!"

Her enthusiasm seems to grow on her as her eyes gradually open. You hadn't seen her face in a long, agonising week, her sight made you week to your knees.

"Hey baby, ready to go home?" You beam, pushing the tears away.

"No!" She pouts "Daddy will take me to Rapunzel's castle tomorrow!"

To her it was such a big deal. The promise to see her favorite princess and her prince, to fight the most evil Gothel with her squeeky little voice, it all excited her way too much. Although you're in no place to ruin their fun -Levi has the right to spend his time with Kuchel however he pleases- but you have to admit it hurts. A lot.

Wanting to go to Disneyland was your most vivid childhood dream. The scenery had always fascinated you, there were so many things you had always wanted to do. And Levi had promised, while he was driving you to the hospital once your water had broke, that he'd take you along with Kuckel.

You open your mouth to speak but words never really come out as you take your defeat in. Your heart's sinking, your knees want to give up on supporting your whole weight but just as you're about to collapse two familiar voices catch your attention.

"Oi runts, what's with the commotion?"

"Kenny! Be a little kinder, hey love!"

Your face suddenly drops lower than it's ever possible. In panic you wonder if staying still will guard you from the sights of Kenny and Kuchel, but you're absurdly reminded that could never be the case.

"Im here to pick Kou up." You whisper, ashamed to look any of the Ackermans in their eyes. They really had you cornered like a rat now.

"Ah, aren't you guys going to Disneyland this weekend?" Kuchel smiles as she greets you with eagerness.

At this point Levi is forced to open the door. It's only rude to keep his family standing in the hallway of his apartment complex because you're in the midst of having a small fight. You're not sure if you want to get in, though, he never allows you to.

"It's only me and Kuchel, mom. What made you think (y/n) was coming?"

Kenny huffs at the words, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "Trouble in paradise?" He rightfully earns a death glare from his sister. His legs shot up on the coffee table, catching Levi's attention. Your little girl mumbles something about the table turning dirty once again and Levi agrees, sparing her the tiniest of smugs.

"Look (y/n)," the ravenette's attention turns to you once again "I think you should go, were flying early tomorrow, I promise I'll make up for this whole week someway."

With gloom in your eyes you turn on your feet, ready to storm off of the hallway, and down to the elevator. If you're not wanted here then it's fine. With a kiss on little Kuchel's forehead, you tuck her strands behind her ear and whisper a soft goodnight to her. Levi's door closes too fast, too sharp, too humiliating to your person and at this, you can't help but finally breakdown. Your legs don't even drag you to the end of his hallway. With your back against the nearest wall you collapse, hit tears making their appearance on the corners of your eyes.

"Don't be a little bitch Levi, your brat is not a doll you two pass to eachother, in case ya didn't notice." Inside the apartment Kenny's words sting like a thousand yellowjackets launching onto Levi's skin, but only because the old man speaks the truth. He keeps the arrogant comment about the language that should be used around his daughter to himself, he's eager to listen what his mother had to say on the situation.

"I still don't even know the reason you're not together anymore."

He doesn't either. He can't bring himself to remember the exact reason you had fallen apart or why you had acted to cold towards him two months ago. In a haze, that's probably only for the worst he pops Kuchel into Kenny's uninviting arms and picks up a shift space with his matching.

If he's surprised by your vulnerable position on the hallway he doesn't ever show. His twitching eyebrows betrays the tint of worry in his expression but your trembling lip doesn't allow you to utter words just yet. It'd only when he swoops to your level, knees touching the cold tiles of the floor while his eyes look directly in your face. His calloused hand comes to bed your cheek in order to provide you some sort of comfort for your exhausted head and to wipe a salty tear with his thumb. He isn't ever really soft like that, but you come to believe it's been so long without him that you've forgotten about his compassionate side.

"How did I get so lucky to be loved by someone like you, and how was I so stupid to make us go through this?"

Your words are hurting you more than you want to admit to. It's unfair, how you want to come undone, how time and space cease to exist in the moment, how you don't feel like you can keep your heart's insides to yourself.

"Im so sorry I left that morning but I was so, so afraid." You continue.

It was no secret. That particular night you had shared two months ago, wrapped in his sheets like old times had sparked so many flames or reconciliation between the two of you. Be it that it was you who showed up at his door or him that took you in, be it that you did this because you missed every tiny aspect of him that it was overwhelming. You can't even pinpoint a reason as to why the two of you were so natural together. But you have thrown your only chance away. And he won't even let you in his home.

"I was too, beats me as to what I would have done if I was in your place." His voice is tinted in melancholy but paradoxically his steel orbs never once fall from yours. "But I've spent so much time being mad at you that I can't even remember why im feeling this way in the first place."

Your hand shoots to his chest, only to grab at his plain gray crewneck in an attempt to pull him closer, close enough that your foreheads collide. Onyx shaggy strands engulf your vision as your heavy breaths mingle and your thoughts are finally able to come through mouth.

"Who are you and what have you done to the Levi I know." A muffled giggle comes out of your cries and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it smug appears on Levi's face. It catches you by surprise, the way his face lots up from only just a second is an image you've tried you convince yourself to forget but your mind always finds a way to come back to it.

His hand comes to rest on your nape, trapping the hair underneath his grip as he leans to give a kiss to your forehead.

"We'll talk about everything with caramel poisoned apples with Kuchel alright?" Your eyes lit up at his statement, glistening tears threatening to fall once again from your eyes. "Tch, don't look at me like that of course I bought three tickets."

You miss the way his eyes widened as you engulf him tightly in your arms, closing the painful space that had been separating you up until a few seconds ago. Maybe you won't kiss just yet, this isn't a lust filled moment. It's a moment of putting a new brick at that wall of trust you had wrecked a few years ago. With that inevitable fate and love that brought you back to eachother no matter what and a lot of patience the two of you are going to make it work. No excuses this time.

Was this short, was this enough? I honestly don't know I enjoyed this one because for once I figured the ending as I went along. Reading your guys comments makes me feel really good so if you want to drop a comment (or a request) don't be shy. Thanks for reading, it means a lot💞

[puppypeter]

1999 words Stucky prompt? *sorry*

Ok so I couldn’t go to sleep last night because I kept thinking of this Stucky AU where Steve is an ex-military medic who is now retired because his wife passed away and he has to look after the family. He has like 10-12 kids between his own and adopted, big family, big house, a dog. The kids range between barely 1 year old set of twins to grumpy teenagers. He had to come back from war when his wife sadly passed away while giving birth to the twins and so he didn’t really get any time to re-adjust and he lives with the regret that he wasn’t even there for her when she needed him. He is struggling a lot, but tries to hide it for the sake of the kids. He runs the house a bit like a military base, there’s time tables, bathroom times, meal plans and menus, budgets etc wakes the troops up early in the morning to get them ready for school (he still struggles in the kitchen cause he’s barely used to having decent food again himself, let alone make something all kids eat!!), the oldest have to help with the youngest etc a big chaotic disaster of a family, but he’s trying. The kids miss their mom too, but it’s been a year now and daddy is still sad. He doesn’t know that they know he is. They see him stare into nothing at times, they know Sunday mornings are the day nobody is to bother daddy until he comes down for lunch (which he prepared on the Saturday already) because sometimes daddy finds it hard to sleep and other times he finds it hard to get out of bed. He always wants them to eat their greens, yet standing on the staircase late at night they’ve spotted him sitting on the couch eating ice-cream straight from the tub and weeping over Disney movies. And that has happened more than once.

So one day they’re at the park. Steve is laying down on their red and white cloth on the ground with all the food bags and the tiny twins next to him. They’re so cute, wiggling around at all the sounds and colours, he should want to play with them but all he feels is tired. The other kids are scattered around the park, between playing ball and looking at insects and on the swings. The younger kids have been talking about what they should do to make daddy happy. That’s when little Mary spots two men sitting on a bench. One of them is playing with a leash, probably of the big dog that’s just sitting at his feet, not even caring about going far. The other is wearing a leather jacket, slightly unzipped and a white furry kitten head pops out of it. “Which one of them do you think?” Peter asks. “That one!” Mary shouts just pointing at the guy with the kitten “look at his hair! he looks like a disney price, dad will love him!” (they don’t even know their dad is bisexual, bucky is just pretty so they’re confident he’ll like him).

So her and some of her siblings make their way over to the men and start asking them questions. Their names are Sam and Bucky (“That’s a weird name” Mary says). Sam teases Bucky by calling him prince charming, having heard the previous comment, and Bucky’s cheeks go pink. This little boy with his thick glasses on gets overly excited when he sees that one of Bucky’s hands is made of metal “So cool, like a robot!” and asks if he can touch it (cause daddy thought them it’s important to ask before). And Bucky just feels overwhelmed. He hasn’t been around this many people since he came back, the most people he’s had around were a bunch of doctors when they operated on him roughly a year and half ago, but he was sedated and unaware. He struggled for a while to get out of the house, to accept his disability, accept having a prosthesis he can’t really do anything with, having to learn to do everything one handed (he only ever wears it outside the house cause he doesn’t want people to stare at his empty sleeve, but the moment he’s at home he likes to give his shoulder a break). 

Sam, he works as a counsellor at the VA has helped him a lot, and now they hang out together, but not in crowded places. This is why they like coming to the park. But now there’s a bunch of kids in his face and for the first time he doesn’t mind having many people around. Maybe because they’re little people and he knows they won’t hurt him. Maybe cause one of them is geeking out about his prosthesis he always felt self-conscious about. Mary invites him over to meet her dad (Sam cackles), but Bucky is definitely not ready for any form of relationship, let alone a romantic one. So he blushes and declines. 

The kids leave a bit upset. After a while Mary comes back saying she’s hurt and lost. “You look fine to me kid!” Sam replies. So she dramatically throws herself on the grass and big fat tears start coming out of her eyes. After they laugh at her overly dramatic attitude, she stands up huffing and puffing and leaves clearly kicking her feet in the ground. “I mean maybe you should go for it!” Sam insists “It’s not like you have to marry the guy. You’re just meeting a new person, nothing has to come of it. Maybe you’ll make a friend, maybe you’ll never see him again, but you’d talk to someone that wasn’t me or the cashier at the deli by your flat”. Bucky knows that’s true, but he really can’t bring himself to. He still hasn’t talked to his family since he’s been back. Something about getting your arm blow off and seeing your mates blow up when it should have been you instead makes it difficult to relate to normal people.

It’s only maybe 20 minutes later when a blur of blonde hair and orange dungaree comes rushing towards them crying. “It ain’t gonna work missy!” Sam jokes. But Mary looks clearly upset. “Help my daddy please!”. They doubt her for a second, thinking it’s her amazing acting skills and they’re gonna go there and her dad is gonna be fine. But her lower lip is wobbling and she sounds seriously distressed. Plus they all see a bunch of kids clearly surrounding someone sitting on a blanket. So they follow her, cause that’s the right thing to do. When they get there they see this big burly man folded in half on himself with his hands in his hair, gripping at it, shaking, panicking. Sam immediately drops on his knees, but doesn’t touch him yet. Bucky has seen him do it plenty of times with himself, when he barely got out of bed to finally have some food and then started crying if he dropped a spoon on the floor or spilled a bit of coffee. He would be forever thankful to have had him as a counsellor and now as a friend. 

Bucky steers the kids a bit away, asking the older ones to give them some space to help their dad. Together with a young woman, he scoops up one of the two babies in onesies that were on the blanket and leans one up on his chest. He can’t really do much with his metal arm, but geeky kid is currently holding onto it. After they move a bit further away, he passes on the baby to another older teenager and goes back to Sam. He sees that he has managed to get the man to unclench his fists from his hair and sees him panicking when he can’t see his kids. “They’re alright, they’re ok, they’re all together”. 

And so that’s how they meet and they all go to a diner to get food (taking over like 4 different booths). They find out Steve is ex-military from the dog tags shape Bucky sees under his shirt. Steve has apparently had the ability to lie his way through his psych test coming back from the war simply because he knew he would lose his kids if he admitted how he was truly feeling. He is struggling with depression and has PTSD, but he’ll never admit it out loud. He has a family to care about. He says none of that, but Sam knows. He invites him to the VA, “just to talk, we’re not gonna call anyone on you my man, and it seems like you’re doing an amazing job considering you got a whole football team”. 

The following week Sam and Bucky go over to his house for a bbq, bringing dog & cat along for the joy of the kids. It’s loud and it gets a bit much for Bucky at one point so he sneaks out to have a second of quiet. Steve finds him and they get talking. At some point Sam has to leave, an emergency with one of the veterans. But Bucky stays a little while. 

He says he can leave when Steve calls out bed time for the youngest, but Steve asks him to stay, if he wants, it’s not gonna take him long, have a beer. Bucky glows seeing how Steve runs the bedtime routine for 10 kids, the older ones helping the younger ones to get to stay up a little longer. When he comes back they sit out back on the porch, sharing a cigarette and having a couple of beers. It’s quiet, they don’t talk much. Bucky’s shoulder is starting to ache a bit so he keeps rubbing it. They get talking about that, well.. the most that Bucky can say (how it happened, where it happened, then blackout. He can’t go into his feelings about it). “You.. you were from that unit?” Steve asks seemingly speechless. “That’s, that’s where I was operating. We rescued 3 people but we couldn’t get to everyone on time. There was someone closer to the explosion and their arm was….” he cuts off. “Steve” Bucky looks at him unable to breathe “are you telling me that you’re the one that rescued me from under the tank?” ((and it goes from there. it takes awhile but they get together and smooch (Mary acts like she’s about to throw up “But not because you’re two guys, just cause that’s daddy!!”). Bucky learns to open up and getting more comfortable around Steve without the prosthesis on. Steve still cries at Disney movies while eating ice cream, but this time every other spoonful goes to Bucky’s, whose arms he’s wrapped in on the couch. Steve starts going to see Sam at the VA and deal with his issues, because he wants to be there for his kids as they grow up, he doesn’t want to give up on them or himself. He deals and accepts what happened with his wife. He gets to grieve and heal. Sam comes over to their house so that his Missy (his dog) can hang out with her new buddy Dodger *wink wink* and because since starting to deal with his issues Steve has made an effort to reconnect with his friends and there’s a very beautiful redhead that hangs around his house at the weekends... Sam wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. A few more friends from the military come back into his life too - Clint, Thor, Maria, Sharon - and the kids have now a bunch more aunties and uncles to play with. At some point in the distant future, Bucky moves in. He never thought he’d get to have that. A big family, animals, a house. Maybe they have more kids at one point? Bucky reconnecting with his family? & lots more smooches and cuddles!!))

[lideria]

Lost in Yesterday. | Jeno | Backstory.

➥ pairing(s): jeno x gender-neutral!reader, kind of haechan x gender-neutral!reader

➥ genre: lots of angst, also fluff, somewhat suggestive, royal!au, rivalkingdoms!au, loverstoenemies!au

➥ warnings: swear words, mentions of suggestive themes, themes and mentions of war, themes of heartbreak, themes and mentions of family distress/unhealthy relationship, themes of manipulation, themes of psychological abuse, themes of confusion, drinking, mentions of injuries, mentions of gun use, mentions of disassociation. english is my second language so there might be errors.

➥ word count: 25.6k

➥ summary: the firsts and lasts of a forbidden relationship between two heirs.

➥ songs that have inspired this piece/i recommend readers to listen: lost in yesterday - tame impala, low - lenny kravitz, strangers in the night - frank sinatra, six days - dj shadow, next to me - imagine dragons, don’t you cry for me - cobi, to be alone - hozier, c’mon - panic! at the disco ft. fun, morph - twenty one pilots, moon river - frank ocean, sinking man - of monsters and men

➥ author’s note: THIS IS A REPOST, because tumblr’s algorithm did me dirty and took this off the tags. i dearly hope this does not flop heheh please like/reblog if you enjoy this! because i just about lost my mind while writing! also, a big thank you to my beta readers @shimmershimmernct and @neocity-sarai, you guys are awesome!

➥ sequels: reader’s pov // jeno’s pov

i hope everyone enjoys this, have a great morning/day/evening/night!

The Last Ball

The orchestra remains playing songs in the background even after all the past hours they have done so. Hallways are empty and partially dark if it was not for the moonlight. Most of the staff is occupied with serving the hundreds of guests in the middle wing of the palace— working in the kitchen, in the ballroom and outside stood the guards. The left wing of the palace, the one that is supposedly closed to the guests for the night, is only alive because of the two people running through its moonlit halls.

Jeno is holding your hand as he leads the way, excited giggles making their way out without much effort to stop them. The both of you run up the last set of grand stairs and Jeno runs to the end of the wide corridor. He pushes the doors of the library open rather harshly, making you both stumble your way in. His hands wrap around your waist as he pushes you to the nearest set of shelves. It does not take much time for your lips to meet.

The prince, dressed in a pure, blinding white suit with his jet black hair takes your breath away in the best way possible. He pecks you on the lips so many times it makes you dizzy, steadying you with his hands placed delicately on either sides of your jaw as lingers out some of the pecks into longer lasting, tender kisses.

As always it feels rushed and desperate. Yet so, so precious.

It does not feel like you had enough of him when he places his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes while his thumbs caress your jaw. You can hardly see him in the dark, save for his eyes that are sparkling with the weak and pretty rays of moonlight hitting them. He audibly gulps.

“One more,” Jeno whispers before kissing you again. You feel so lost in him that you have to steady yourself to know you still have the strength to stay on your feet. Your hands that had been resting against his chest come up to pull him closer to you, now stationed at his nape. His teeth ever so slightly graze down on your bottom lip, eliciting a breathy hum from both of you at the tension that seems to radiate from where your lips meet— and it clicks in him. That this is not the time or the place.

When he pulls away he takes a couple steps back, and then he smiles. Moonlight barely hits him but your eyes are, at this point, somewhat adjusted to the dark from running through dark halls and semi making out in the dark library. Both of you know why he stops and pulls away too soon before it can go any further. He cannot even kiss you for as long or as hard as him and you would like to, because people would notice from your appearances and the duration of your absence. And gossip was a deadly thing within the royal class.

It was okay. As long as you could escape with him for some time, it would be okay. You two were too used to it at this point.

“You look blinding tonight, your Majesty,” He teases, his eyes curved into the crescents they are. The nickname hitches your heart instantly, triggering all the dreams you know could not come to be. All you can do is press them down in your heart until they become so compact that you feel back in control. Him being there right beside you does not help with the situation in your heart, but the least you can do is to touch him in some way because you missed him.

Hell, you missed him even when he was right there, stood before your eyes.

So you opt to run a careful hand through his soft and silky hair, tidying the mess it had come while running. Realization hits you suddenly then, and your heart picks up again though of causes less pleasurable. “Is Jaemin out? We left so quickly.”

Jeno leaving without his guard would surely create chaos. With the tension the regional monarchies and the state kingdoms were in, and the unspoken arguments and arrogance hanging in the air, any heir even daring to breathe without their personal guards would mean letting them out into the wild with all the dangers and possibilities awaiting. Alone.

And that is a risk none of the kingdoms are willing to take.

The Prince’s eyes flutter a bit, but he sounds somewhat confident. “I was making hand gestures all the time, there’s no way he didn’t pick them up.”

As if on cue, there are loud knocks at the door when you nod. Both of your heads snap at the source of the noise— the doors are then opened even harsher than how Jeno had done some moments ago, and two figures rush in, clearly out of breath.

For a second you dare to think that you have another forbidden couple in the library, but the voice that speaks debunks your theory. “They’re here,” Jaemin breathes out in what could best be called relief. He kneels to his knees and takes a few moments to gulp and recollect himself. His silence is instantly filled, however, with another voice you know all too well.

“Excuse me for dropping the honorifics but for the sake of my poor mother stop doing this to us,” Donghyuck, your guard, complains. Jaemin lets out a laugh and nods appreciatively at his words. The guard carries on with his complaint but not without sucking in a big breath first. “At least inform us of where you’re going so we don’t have to lie through our teeth to the kings and queens while also worrying about your safety. A generation earlier and we would be beheaded if they found out what we’re doing.” Donghyuck kneels to grab at his legs as well, looking at the ground. Jaemin pats his back once in support. “The things I do for this relationship. Really, I would’ve gotten married already if I paid this much attention to my own relationships. I don’t know about Jaemin.”

The guard beside him chuckles. “You and me both at that one.”

Both Jeno and you laugh at their words, too stunned to move from your place. You both give your guards a good few seconds to catch their breaths but Jeno moves towards his guard and best friend before you can even move, waiting for him to groom his outfit and straighten up first. “Did anybody see you?”

The cautious words leaving Jeno catches Jaemin off guard, but he still answers the question rather quickly. “We kept some distance between us until we were out of the middle wing. No one was around after that as far as I could tell.” Upon his words he pats Jaemin on the shoulder as if to say good job, and he mumbles his thanks to both of the guards in gratitude— even though the two of you did not necessarily need them to find you, as in them walking in on you.

Jeno turns to you when Jaemin is done, a warm smile on his face again, probably sharing the same feelings but also knowing the consequences of not being down at the hall for longer than expected. “I will see you in the ballroom, my love.” Affection beams from his words and it makes you incredibly happy, even though you have heard the nickname countless times before.

“Hurry up already, I can hear your father scolding you.” He chuckles a breath and nods at Donghyuck, giving him his recognition and respect, before making his way out of the door with Jaemin trailing next to him.

You sigh when the door closes behind him and his company, knowing this would be the only time you could get to yourselves with him tonight. Just like that, the prince was gone.

Relationships between royals were heavily looked down upon unless they were arranged marriages, because they could bring unexpected feuds, wars, or peace. No royals wanted their love life to affect their politics unless they could impose full control over them. Considering the state the nations are in— with all kinds of political feuds and tight anger in between that waited patiently until it was the time to blow up�� your relationship between two heirs of monarchies that have never necessarily gotten along feels all the more forbidden. Even after three years of being steady and having things under control.

Loving him would not be this difficult if it was your ideal world.

“Your Highness,” Donghyuck starts, looking at you with some level of concern. “You should be looking happy. Not like this.”

There is something weird about the way Donghyuck speaks to you. Most probably because of the fact that you have known each other since childhood, there is still a sense of warm and homely friendliness and informality in his words, despite the title he has to call you by. The two of you had met at eight years of age, when his mother who works in the kitchen brought him into the palace that time when his father was sick and she could not take the risk of leaving him alone with an ill man. He had been the first child that you actually made friends with outside the heir community— if it was even one.

Fourteen years of friendship. One of which was spent apart as he was sent away to train to become your guard by your father’s order, and three of which was spent with him as your guard. Mostly with laughs, sometimes with tears, lots of kept secrets, shared feelings and struggles, and helping each other with anything and everything. Donghyuck was your one loyal friend, and perhaps, the only friend you truly had.

Honestly, you could not have asked for a better primary guard. “I am happy,” The words prompt an automatic smile on your lips, albeit one of longing. “I just would’ve loved to dance with him again.”

The First Dance

The first time you had danced together was three years ago, it had also been the day  where  you had completely fallen for him. Years of silently crushing had been leading up to it— momentary glances at the dinner table when his family or yours were doing their yearly rounds of visits followed by shy smiles, playing in the snow when they visited your kingdom of mountains, exploring the beautiful forests of his kingdom of what felt like a sea of green, helping each other with duties that required a second thought, late night talks in the gardens and balconies, watching the night sky with the astronomy-lover prince. Sometimes he would tell you all about it, sometimes the both of you would lounge around and sketch architectural pieces and compete on insults and comebacks, sometimes you would ride horses together— basically, you would share what you loved doing with one another.

For years it felt like a snowball rolling down the edge of a mountain, starting off small but swiftly tumbling and getting bigger and bigger as it made its way down. Surely it would end in an avalanche where the neatly formed snowball would disintegrate into a new spread of snow that would cover every inch of the surface.

The first dance was the scream that caused the avalanche.

Jeno had come to your side in the ballroom full of royal members and the elite class, roaming through an ocean of people just to find you. He had sensed the stress around the hall— the unhappiness that swarmed within the people spread around, and he thought— you were young. In fact, most people in that very room were young except for the rulers. It should feel energetic and fresh for everyone to take a short break from duties and responsibilities. It was a ball, after all. Not a conference. Nor a summit. Nothing political, so why was everyone making it feel like it was? Why would he not ask someone he liked to a dance?

Because that person was you, and your parents’ views did not go hand in hand? Because it was basic and proper political etiquette for him to not ask you to a dance?

Well, that would have just been plain stupid and a shame in his opinion.

“Hey,” He had leant over to your ear while you were looking at some group of people who were dancing away, prompting a little jerk of your shoulders in surprise. It makes him chuckle. “Hello, and excuse you, I don’t think I heard the ‘your Highness’ part,” You had said in return. “I could start some drama with the way you are disrespecting me right now.” He saw your eyes point at a particular group of teenagers your age, ones that were heirs of ‘lesser’ kingdoms— whatever that meant. Just because they did not have much land to rule over. The heirs, though, were known to be quite the chitter-chatters. They were the ones to have a word with if you ever needed some catching up with the society.

Your eyebrows had lifted a bit then in an effort to point them out further, and your finger had slightly pointed at them as stealthily as you could muster. “All it would take is a few words with them and I swear within the next hour everyone would know how you don’t even have the manners to address people correctly.”

That made Jeno start laughing silly, but you protested further. “You should have been at the last Unity Ball. They made sure everyone knew Doyoung and, you know, his now-wife-and-the-queen were a deal. I don’t even know where they spotted them doing what because I sure didn’t see them.”

You chuckled after your words as well, and Jeno could not take his eyes off of you. He smiled fondly, relaxing his linked hands placed at his back. “I was thinking…” He held out a hand, palm looking upwards at the ceiling, relaxed enough that his fingers were not fully straight. “Maybe we could give them something to talk about.”

With a smile, you rolled your eyes. “Jeno, this will give everybody something to talk about.”

Jeno shrugged carelessly with pursed lips. “I know and frankly I do not care. I just want to dance with you.”

It made your heart skip a beat— a couple, actually. He felt the same way in his chest.

And he knew his father would be watching over him somewhere, muttering to his mother about what was he doing and why would he even do that and this is going to raise so many questions but he had meant it. He simply did not care. Jeno also did not care about what your father must think of him. If it was as he expected it to be, it was somewhere between neutral and he is tolerable. Not he is as bad as his father. Plus, if the two of you got into trouble, just how hard could it be when the two of you were the only heirs for your parents’ thrones and had your own duties every living day?

Yes. It would not be much trouble at all.

Perhaps you also had a similar thought process, because you willingly put your hand in his. The two of you walked to the floor and felt gazes shift towards your direction along the way. And then, you placed your hand on him and let him place his hand at the small of your back, linking your other half of hands together.

And you started dancing. In the same way you would have danced with anyone that was not him. As more gazes landed upon the two of you and people watched you dance instead of only seeing you, understanding and observing first hand that being rivals is not applicable to situations like these and that your parents’ disagreement do not have to be yours, you swayed and you smiled and you looked into Jeno’s eyes.

But something was different.

You got lost in his eyes. You felt your breath escape free from your chest at the feeling of his hands holding you, and your heart started beating at a much faster, hypnotic rhythm— like that of a horse’s trots when it is set free to run around. And honestly, you got lost in the feeling. The feeling of being able to say so much when none of you are speaking. It was comfortable. It was strengthening. It was freeing. Fresh, warm, calm yet exciting.

Maybe he had felt the same, because you could feel his hold getting tighter and his gaze fonder by the second as you danced.

Jeno and you colored your way through that year’s annual visit, the usual black-and-whiteness of it nowhere to be seen.

The Last Official Visit

“Mere years ago I thought it couldn’t get any worse,” You mumble quietly as Jeno and you walk your way to the dining hall. You are making sure you keep your voice down so as to prevent the staff— especially the educational staff— from hearing your complaints. Both of your hands are at your sides lightly brushing against each other’s. That is the most affectionate thing you could do when everyone is around, really. “Having too many lessons on too many subjects in one day and somehow trying to keep all of them in my mind so I can have a shot at being a decent ruler,” Jeno hums in agreement and nods a little, waiting for the actual complaint to come. “But now that I’m actually getting closer to the being a monarch, everything’s just.. I think my head will crack open if I need to memorize anything more about law. Do you ever feel the same?”

From the corner of your eye, you can feel a staff looking at you with judging eyes, so you feel inclined to add the honorific. “Your Highness?”

Jeno chuckles as you turn around the corner and nods enthusiastically, when both of you notice one of the head guards and all three of you bow a bit in greetings as you pass by each other. “I can relate to that. For me having to deal with and participating in the military is draining as I get older. A lot of the time I just want to be able to learn things I want to learn. Astronomy, music theory, science…”

“Nothing to do with politics, I know.” The two of you snicker at his words and yours. You really knew. Jeno, if there were any other heir, would give up his place on the throne immediately— because he hated politics. Not the study or the theme itself as he knew its importance because of his first-hand experience, but he rather hated the reality of being a politician. Every word he says, every action he does, and every step he takes is closely monitored and very likely to cause major changes. And he hates that. Jeno is the type of person that is more reserved, dependent on his privacy, someone who wants to engage in his own interests as he thinks it is the major way to preserve inner peace throughout his life. He wants to live an enjoyable life, understandably.

“How are things going with your father?” You ask him upon the topic with a hopeful tone, knowing it is a bitter one, and thinking that maybe asking about it while you are moving and loaded with sensory surroundings could give him the benefit of swiftly giving the answer without much occupation in his mind. “Not great. I cannot seem to make him happy, ever.”

The answer hurts your heart because it is true. Jeno’s father is never happy with him, as he is a man washed over with his own ideals and denies any alternatives. In his views, it is almost like Jeno has to be exactly like him to be a good king. Ever since you met Jeno around twelve years ago now, his father has bothered you and not only because he is the King of a rival monarchy.

The worst part is that his mother never raised her voice about it. Even though she is much more affectionate towards Jeno and  seems to approach him with love unlike the King.

“He was really upset with my performance in the military last time. Said I had to work harder if I wanted to be a lieutenant.” He adds with a barely audible huff, the two of you slowing down as you spot the doors to the dining hall. You frown, and it is audible when you speak. “We have to endure it just a bit more. It will all work out in the end— we always make things work, right?”

With that Jeno smiles assuringly. You feel his finger caress the back of your hand a couple of times as his eyes point downwards with the force of his smile. “Yes, my love. We do.”

Just out of the doorkeepers’ reach, you whisper to him. To reassure him, and to give him strength, and perhaps to apologize to him about nagging him on a topic he does not like to mention. “I love you.”

He whispers back. “I love you too.”

The two of you share a fond smile that lasts a couple of seconds before taking the last few steps to the entrance and the doorkeepers open the doors for you.

Both of your parents are seated at the table, with yours at the opposite ends of the table and his on the left side. Your parents look delighted to see you both, and his mother does look content too, but his father not as much. It is less than surprising to you at this point, but you still want to be naive enough to believe his face looks so down because of the political tension  he had with your parents and not because he genuinely disliked his son and you.

Bowing your heads slightly in greetings at the Kings and the Queens, both of you start making your way to your seats.

“Father,” Jeno greets him with a smile of his face that is rather mocking, as he walks over to them to sit at the assigned chair between his parents.

“Son,” His father greets back, watching Jeno’s movements. The King sounds stern and less than moderately content which makes you furrow your brows as a staff pulls the chair for you to sit down on the right side of the table. You realize how your chair is the only one on the right side even though the table is big enough to host grand meals and it makes you wish that the seating plan could be in a way that could have both Jeno and you sitting at the same side. Because you do not want his father to converse with him and be in close proximity to him, where he can bother him all he pleases.

Contrary to all your thoughts, though, Jeno looks okay. He places his hand on his father’s shoulder as he sits down, and turns to his mother to take her hand in his before placing a kiss at the back of it. Jeno whispers something to her that makes her smile bright, her eyes sparkling at her son, and then she brushes some of his hair that has fallen behind his ears. You can hear her asking Jeno about how his studies have gone, along with the duties he had to take care of that day that were just some document work.

Jeno tells her it has gone well, that he has taken care of everything and even has gotten a head-start on his work for the next day. She praises him in return and cups his cheek, turning back around to the table thereafter.

When the attention is at the table and the first course is served, your father takes his glass of fine champagne and lifts it up slightly with a smile on his face that you know is only professional. Him and your mother dislike Jeno’s father just as much as you do if not more for his political stances. “I’m happy we can all gather here annually and share food, thoughts and words with each other in peace even though we are not necessarily on the same side of ideas, and I’m raising a toast for everything to stay this way— in peace— for the eternity to come.”

Me too, you think. Both Jeno’s parents and your mother raise their glasses to meet your father’s with two genuine smiles and one quarter-meant. You raise your glasses as well with Jeno and say your cheers after they do so.

Jeno winks at you before taking a sip when he lifts his glass up to his lips, and you know that it is the two of you that wants your father’s wishes to come true probably the most as you smile.

The First (and Only) Time You Got Caught

It had happened on one of your yearly rounds barely a full year after the annual Unity Ball, in which he had finally collected the courage to tell you about his feelings and asked if you felt the same as you two danced with a beautiful smile on his face— presumably because it was the only time the two of you could truly be alone without your primary guards on your tails.

“Can I tell you something, in all my seriousness, your Highness?” He had asked with his hidden smile on his face, the one where the corners of his mouth were not pointed upwards but there was still a very noticeable amusement on his face. Teasing a bit, if you will. “I have a feeling that you will even if I tell you you can’t.”

Jeno had tilted his head at your words. “You are right, but only because of the heaviness of my words. I really would not tell you otherwise.”

He took a breath, and when he spoke again, it was with a much lower tone. A tone where people dancing near you would not have been able to hear it but only you would, as his voice got drowned out by the sounds of the piano and the violins and the cellos and every other instrument. “I think a lot whenever I see you and spend time with you,” Then, ever so slightly he leaned in a bit closer. “And what I think is always good and relieving. You make me feel like I can drop my mask off with you: the mask I keep on my face at all times. It is incredibly easy for me to be myself around you because of the way you are, and I appreciate you for that. But for a long time now I’ve been feeling like this appreciation and awe I have for you,”

Your brows furrowed a bit at his words as confusion took over you, and he let out an airy laugh at that before picking his words back up. “Has evolved into something much more. Something much bigger and stronger. Something that tells me it is you, and I am okay with that. I can and I do accept that, and I just wanted to tell you because it is so hard not to anymore.” Another breath. This time he leans back again to regain his composure. “But you should know that I will understand if you do not feel the same way about me, or do not want to have what I would like for us to have.”

The two of you continued to dance, making sure your waltz steps were matching both to each other’s and to the music playing in the background. Shocked would have been an understatement for what you felt— not because it was a surprise that he felt that way about you as you were sure the mutual attraction was real before, but because he actually told you. Moreover, because he wanted something with you in the same way you did with him. It was only when you could wrap your head around it that you let out a bright smile with a squeeze on his shoulder. “This is so hysteric.”

Jeno had shook his head in a questioning manner upon your words, but had immediately relaxed upon the ones that followed soon after. “I do. I do want to have that very same thing, because it is you for me, too.”

Needless to say it had been a tad bit difficult after that.

As it was with all new lovers, keeping your hands or eyes off from each other was quite frustrating and a demanding task. You could really only love each other physically when you were completely alone; could hug when you were alone, could kiss when you were alone, could hold hands when you were alone— being alone was a treasure. And for the communication bit.. well. Communication outside of blatantly seeing each other and talking was a non-existent concept.

But you made it work. Even at its first stages, your love had proved to be stronger than the obstacles. The two of you would find a way, eventually.

Perhaps, the one time you were not alone while you displayed your affection was the door opening to communication outside of seeing each other and between the distanced kingdoms.

The two of you were on your way to the greenhouse outside in their garden to have tea with your families, the sun shining through the big windows— not a sight you could always have in your palace as the country was usually covered in snow whether it be a light cover or a heavier one. You loved how green their palace was. It felt like an explosion of colors after staying months on end in your palace until you started your yearly rounds, visiting every single kingdom over the course of several weeks.

Maybe it was what made you more lively, too. More loving, because you do not think there could be any explanation as to why the Prince’s speech on the whole history of the foreseeable future in space sounded so charming to you. “Kiss me.”

Jeno stopped dead in his tracks at the sudden demand. You did too, and could not help but snicker at his widened eyes. “Pardon me? We’re literally in the middle of the hall, dove.” Which was true, but the hall was empty. Completely empty, as the transition halls were some of the most unoccupied during the daytime. Had it been nighttime, it would have been a completely different story. “Where’s the beautiful and bold boy that did not care when he was asking me to a dance in front of everyone in the royal and elite class?”

He chuckled at that, amused and somewhat bothered, but lighthearted. “We’re too out in the open. It would be a disaster if anyone wanted to change wings and walked in on us.” At that you let out a frustrated sigh, laughing a little at him with a slight roll of your eyes. “Just kiss me, Jeno. There is no one around.”

Maybe it is the fact that you asked him for the second time, or that he felt the sudden bravery rush over him, but he did kiss you then. With an amused smile spread over his lips he had leant over with his hands still placed on his back— presumably because it would have made pulling back easier had it come to that. It was a sweet kiss despite the frustration the two of you had in store just seconds before he did so, his lips soft yet firmly on yours as he started kissing your demand and his worries away in a careless moment.

It felt good to be careless for once. To melt into the environment, to feel one and to feel whole by taking only one risk.

Until the sound of laughter echoed through the hall, that is, and the faint footsteps grew louder in sound as the people they belonged to got closer. The footsteps were approaching rather quickly, and Jeno tried to pull away from you muttering something along the lines of see, someone has to come here just to ruin everything but you did not let him. Instead, you pulled him in closer with hands placed on the other’s jaws.

Honestly, you two really could not care. Especially after the laughs got recognizable to you long before they did to him.

And as one would have expected the steps came to a halt once they entered the hall, however as one would not have expected while you were just pulling away from each other.

If you had to stay positive about it, it was an immense embarrassment for both of you. Them possibly seeing you in that state was not something the two of you would have wanted nor planned; the plan was to pull away just before they came in, and you had failed miserably.

It would be fine, though. They were your primary guards. One of whom looked shocked beyond belief, and the other looked a bit uncomfortable. Nonetheless, they were your primary guards and your own closest friends. If anybody could be trusted, it would be them.

“Oh my god. Oh, my god.” Donghyuck rambled, mostly in disbelief and possibly a bit nervously as they kept on walking over to where you and the Prince were standing. “I can’t believe I just witnessed that, you were kissing, weren’t you?” The last part of the question had come out in the lowest whisper he could muster, and Jeno only nodded. It was not his proudest moment for sure if you took the slight blush on his cheek to account.

Mentioning what had been going on between you to them had been out of the question for so long in a dire attempt to protect yourselves from any and all eyes— even theirs, that are supposed to watch over you. Maybe if it was not for this moment you never would have told them as the nature you two held had been too cautious to do anything up until now.

The guards seemed to get even more distressed at that, especially your friend of eleven years. He turned to Jaemin with his hand in his hair, eyes closed, and his face genuinely upset. “It’s too early for this. I’m on my first year of primary duty and this is what you do to me?”

At his words, the Prince beside you cleared his throat, and everyone turned their gazes towards him. “I know this must have come as a shock to you, but we are still two heirs you are talking about.”

Donghyuck tilted his head then, and pushed his tongue against his cheek at the comment, chuckling a little as he placed his hands on his hips. “Well, your Highness, one of them happens to be my best friend of years— and for the record, I think we have well given up on the professional distance protocol at this point.”

That made Jaemin bust out an actual laugh, prompting Jeno to glare at him and the guard to simply shrug before apologizing. “Donghyuck,” You snapped at him with a warning tone. “Keep your composure.” The only voices inside the hall or at the close distance around the hall still happened to be the four of yours, which was rather fortunate considering the last few moments.

“Just let us forget about this, your Highness,” Jaemin suggested to you with a calm manner. “Both of us have vowed to be loyal to you two. Not a single word would leave from our mouths regarding this.”

And that happened to be the best thing Jaemin had ever said to you. For him, and the stressed guard beside him, it was probably the most unfortunate thing that ever did leave his mouth. A smile spread on your face as the idea hit, and Jeno must have thought the same because you saw him jerk a little in his place in a moment of eureka. The guards knew something (or anything, for that matter) would not be going their way as the same kind of knowing smile spread across your faces simultaneously.

“Vowed to be loyal, you say?” Both guards nodded when you asked, and Jeno followed suit with his own question. “And what if we asked you to help us with finding places for us two to meet at?”

The Last Promise

It is a pretty night.

The nights at your palace are always breezy and cold at the right amount: bearable with the right attires, and the type that is a dry cold where the humid cold that might stick on you is never a problem that passes through your mind. Moonlight is bright in the open sky. The stars are visible and scattered across the night like wild flowers scattered across a field. The snow is a thick blanket on top of the ground and under your feet as you sit at the entrance of the abandoned and long-out-of-use tunnel.

Jeno looks pretty, too. Despite traveling for a long time and having to cover everything up at such a time where having this relationship is even harder than it has ever been, he is glowing with pleasure. His eyes constantly seem to smile, and his skin glistens under the shifting rays of the moonlight as he speaks to you. You both were catching up on the last few weeks where you have not been able to see each other and only could deal letters to one another through selected staff that were being paid in exchange of keeping your long-going secret. A lot of it was through affection.

Jaemin and Donghyuck are guarding far in front of you— Donghyuck farther than Jaemin, keeping an eye out for the rest of the palace that was surely asleep and in the distance as the other watched out with binoculars for royal photographers. They seemed to be everywhere after noticing the drama and feud-filled relationships of the recent royal class, and they were insatiable.

“I feel so on the edge whenever I have to talk to anyone lately,” You confess to Jeno as he looks deep into your eyes. “Even on phone calls, and even though I am not my father but just a representative, everyone treats me like I am some manure sticking to their shoes.”

The Prince laughs at that, holding your hand in his and lacing your fingers without taking his eyes off of yours. “You could not be farther off than manure, my love. These are trying times for everybody is all.”

“Which is exactly why I think they should be more compassionate,” You add with a huff of frustration, a pout on your lips. Jeno lets out a breathy chuckle as he leans over and places a chaste kiss on them, before turning back to his seat. “Are you cold?”

“Not really, why?” You ask. “The tip of your nose felt really cold.” With that, he looks down at your linked hands and shrugs a little. “You could go inside. I don’t want you to be cold because of me. I got to see you, and that is what matters.”

“I am not cold. I want to stay here longer.” He smiles at the attempt to reassure him, starting to play with the tips of your fingers. Squeezing them, touching them with his own, fiddling them mindlessly. “Good.” There is a slight relief at the way his word sounds, but it is nowhere to be found with the words that follow. “Listen,”

You know what that tone means, and it means that he is being dead serious. “I don’t know if you have noticed anything about it, but there is a big likelihood that a war is coming. Some areas are already in conflict,” You had known about it a little, as the military paperwork seemed to mount up on your table about the raise of the aids and what-not— but you had not seen or heard any plans of an attack. Jeno gulps as he picks his head up to look into your eyes again. “My father just assigned me to the troops located nearest to the conflict zones as a lieutenant today and I have to be there in the morning,” A breath before he concludes his words. “I will have to fight at the warfront when it breaks out.”

His words struck you harder than you would expect it. Jeno does not say if the war breaks out, no, he says when the war breaks out. And you know he is more invested in the military than you ever will be, so his words hold an impeccable reality to them. It gets you feeling terrified because a war is a war and there is no sense of security in it, and he will have to be in the midst of that chaos fighting; and it gets you feeling angry, because how could his father do this to him? “Aren’t you his only child?” Your breath hitches as you ask, and you feel the warmness at your eyes. “Why is he sending you?”

“Because I have been training my entire life and he said he trusts me now.” Somehow, you think, and a good part of you believes that his father is only doing this because he is too much of an arrogant himself to go fight. That his father is doing this only because he wants to keep his place on the throne as long as he can. Because he is the type of person who makes you really believe that he could have been the best alchemist considering he is so selfishly determined to stay on the throne that he would have probably found elixir of life.

And you see the ugly reality that his father does not care if something happens to Jeno during the war. It breaks you that Jeno sounds so hopeful when he says his father trusts him.

So in a moment of selfishness, you ask him. “Jeno, what if you die?”

He seems to get alarmed at the point where your voice gets shaky, and he tightens his hand around yours, leaning in and placing his other hand on your cheek as he stares deep into you, trying to reach your heart. “I won’t.” He shakes his head to further emphasize. “I won’t die. I have so much to do— we have so much to do still. I will come back,” Jeno’s thumb on your cheek rubs the surface firmly, his palm growing warm now. “I promise, my love. We must hold on for a little while longer.”

A part of you thinks why can you not see it? Do you really not see how your father is using you at a matter like this? How he is using you as a pawn and as a puppet, a mere imitation to his presence at the warfront?

But the other part of you says that what is done is done. That there is no way to hold him back from going after being assigned. And that very same part also notices how confident Jeno is being about this, and yearns to believe that his father had told him truthfully that he trusts him now.

So you give him the benefit of the doubt, for now.

You nod at the Prince with a tight smile. The tears had not even arrived at your eyes because you wanted to keep him from getting upset because of your reaction, especially when he would be the one rushing to his destination to arrive by the morning and would involve himself in something way beyond training. With a turn of your head, you kiss his palm and nuzzle further into it, and he lifts your hand in his to kiss it. He does not pull your hand away from his lips and lets you recollect yourself with your eyes closed for a few moments.

“Love,” He whispers after some while. You open your eyes to meet with his fond ones that are looking at you, adoring you. “I need to ask you something before I go.”

You nod once again as he pulls his hand away from your cheek, and you start following the movement of his hand. It goes to his chest pocket on his jacket and digs something up into his palm before holding it in between the two of you.

Then he opens his palm with a smile on his face.

You notice the bunched up chain before you notice the sparkles that reflect the moonlight. And when your eyes fall onto them, there is a ring. A ring. With many small crystals all over it instead of a single or a few big ones. It looks delicate and easy to hide, with a simple knot to its shape and nothing else.

It means the world to you.

“This is not much of a surprise considering the amount of times we have spoken about the future, but,” He squeezes your hand. “Every time I look at you, I do not even dream about it anymore. I see it. And I want it. Because my heart says that it will always be you. Every day, every time. No matter what. Because I love you that much, and I want to go away this time knowing that when I come back to you, you will be my future and I will be yours.”

A bright smile that is a contrast to the dead of the night, yet one that matches his spreads across your face and he knows the answer then. But he asks the question anyway. “Would you do the honor of taking my hand in yours for the rest of eternity?”

The tears rush to your eyes and break free in a matter of maybe a couple of seconds if not within the same second and you nod. A tsunami-worth wave of emotions hit you; sadness at still not being over the fact of the war that was surely coming, happiness at the reality that you will get to keep your love for the rest of your life, nervousness at the uncertainty of it all, him going away and his father, but mostly— finally. Finally, finally.

Not finally, he asked me to marry him but finally, we are moving to the last stage of everything. We have fought for so long, and we have endured so much, and we now finally get to move onto the time where we get to be us without the obstacles. Everything is finally truly paying off.

With a smile on his face and his own unspilled tears in his eyes, he reaches over and puts the necklace on you and tucks it in to your night attire, patting the place the ring extends to. And he lets you kiss him afterwards.

He pulls away, though, before any of you can open your mouths and before the kiss can turn into anything less gentle. “I found a place. The registrar agreed to wed us in impartiality, and told me we could have a small and serene ceremony.” You listen to him with a newfound spark in your eyes that make Jeno fall for you all over again, your hands on his jaws. “You will love it there. It is deep in the forest and the road is really worn, but it only secures us further. No photographer would be able to follow us. There is a lake and lots of different trees varying from the rest of the forest at the ceremony area, and the place is so pretty at night with dim lights everywhere. It is really quiet, and the staff are very kind.”

Your lips land on his again with a quick and messy smooch, and he can feel you giggle into him. When you pull back you bite down at your lip in a smile washed over with excitement. “That sounds like a dream, Jeno.”

“I’m afraid it will all come true, your Majesty.”

Jeno laughs against your lips when you crash them onto his again, and lets you climb into his lap when you make the move.

The First Escapade

Your heart, for the lack of a better word, was racing.

Donghyuck was leading you somewhere. Neither of you were talking much, even the steps you were taking had to be calculated and soft so as not to alert any other guards that were on watch that night. Moving through the halls was a scary, almost foreign feeling— you would usually breeze through them. But not this once.

He had woken you up with a knock at your door, telling the doorkeeper that there was a minor problem with your belongings being sorted for the upcoming tour through the country that had to be sorted immediately according to your liking, and had taken you through the halls and down the many stairs. Most of which you had not once used in your life, and were widely used by the staff only.

He was good at distracting people, you had come to learn. The amount of people he had lied to and distracted by saying there was a problem with power shortage (which there was, and it was him that caused the shortage in the first place) and it had to be repaired but there were parts that had to be bought from the town (with all the businesses listed), and that the other group of guards would be coming to replace them would have been impressive even for politicians. And that was only the first of the lies he had told people that night.

Through the countless halls and stairways you passed through, you finally arrived at the basement. You had never been in there before, and it was a basement for basically just about anything— cars, old furniture, old belongings, a lot of scraps and some things covered with big, beige and gray drapes.

“We’re almost there, don’t worry.” Donghyuck had told your sleepy yet very much amazed self, bothering to turn around and laughing at whatever your expression was. You trailed behind him to the deeper corners of the basement, letting him lead you until he stopped in front of a group of furniture and what looked like instruments all bunched together.

“Is this it? They are surely not coming from the big entrance, and I would like to think you are not talented enough to smuggle them all the way inside here.”

There was a chuckle that echoed after that. “I don’t know whether you complimented or insulted me,” He was holding off on the honorifics seeing they could give everything away if someone had been watching, or were on your tails, or simply heard you. “But for the record, no they’re not.” And with that, he starts moving the old piano and the bigger pieces of furniture like a wardrobe and bookshelf— moving the rugs away and pushing the boxes with his feet until the metal square made itself apparent.

Donghyuck put the furniture he had pulled away in a way that would cover the two of you, a furniture wall if you will, and set the boxes on top of each other inside the wall as well as planting the rugs upright to imitate a cramped space behind the belongings.

It was kind of terrifying how good he was, and you could only hope he had learned such things in training.

Once he was done, he put a hand on his hip and pointed at the trapdoor. “We’ll be going in through there. It opens to the tunnels.”

The tunnels? They were more than a couple hundred years old, and supposedly in unusable condition, completely blocked. “I thought the palace was built on top of them to cover them up.”

“It was, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t an opening to it. Only the King and the architect personnel know about this I think, someone I know mentioned that he wanted to rebuild the collapsed part back up once.” He shrugs. “But he apparently gave up on it after noticing it had gotten visible to the surface after the heavy snowfall made the dirt on it collapse. We’re going to that end now, and trust me when I say no one ever goes there.”

Going through an old trapdoor proved to be harder than you initially thought. The old ladder was slippery with whatever it was, most definitely not fit for two people, and a bit shorter than the drop down.

It took quite a bit of speed walking to get to the end Donghyuck was talking about, and it was mesmerizing to you how there was this complex system of tunnels with brick walls and cracked stone with small hints of life whether it be plants that made their way in through the cracks or bugs, or the occasional stray cats.

But when you reached the end, there they were. The two silhouettes at the opening of the tunnel system and the collapsed remainder of it behind them. Moonlight was shining through in between and around them as they chatted, both of their shoulders shaking with slight laughter. Although you could not see them, you knew which silhouette belonged to the Prince. Maybe because of the way his shoulders shook, or rather because you had known him for so long already that you could basically find him with your eyes closed if you had to.

The silhouettes turned towards you at the sound of your footsteps when they were audible to them, and you could see the smile on Jeno’s face even in the shade of the tunnels. Automatically you smiled back at him and hurried into his arms that welcomed you, hugging into his chest with a happy chuckle. He kissed your cheek, breathing in your scent, and nuzzled his forehead against the side of your face and neck much like a cat as he cozied against the crook of your neck for a brief moment.

He had his hands on your shoulders when he pulled back and took a look at you. “How are you, dove?”

You smile. “Sleepy, but otherwise well. You look far better than I do.” Jeno tilted his head with his eyes squinted. “I’m sleepy as well but the cold has a way of waking people up.” Not to you, after so many years of living here.

When he noticed Donghyuck who had been standing next to you for a few seconds at that point, he asked him about his well being and inevitably cut through his conversation with Jaemin with an apology to be polite. The two guards had been standing at a bit of a distance in order to give you some personal space, you noticed.

Then, he addressed them both in his gratitude. “Thank you for taking the time out of your sleep to make this possible for us,” When he said it, he meant it. You got two bright smiles in return, and words followed those of two of your favorite people in the world.

“We vowed to be loyal to you, to protect you no matter the circumstances and to keep you in safety, your Highness,” Donghyuck quoted the same way once how Jaemin had done. But his smile spread a bit further across his face as he looked at the two of you— with you leaning into Jeno’s side and his hand placed at your waist, almost back-hugging you as he tried to warm you up with his body heat, both of you oblivious to your states.

“And beyond that, we just want to see our best friends happy.”

The Last Wound

To say that the war had broken out would be a severe understatement.

As if on cue, mere weeks after Jeno’s words governments and monarchies around the world had started declaring war against nations upon nations, showing their feuds and unmet requests as the reasons. There were sides that were established; sides that your father refused to be a part of, hiding in the safety of neutrality for the time being. That being said, the military was still getting aided economically and personnel-wise, guards being transferred into several military branches they could serve in without much training and folk (usually the ones that were severely affected by the financial hardships of the war) taken into the accelerated guard training. There were many faces all around.

The land, thankfully, had been secure so far except for the economical burdens. People were still reliable. The monarchy and your family continued to be respected, presumably because of the immense effort your parents and you put into making feel everything as normal as you possibly could.

But news came in every single day, sometimes more times than you could count, and they were scary nonetheless.

Some nations were fighting on land, some at sea, some in the air. There were too many people that had lost their lives for absolutely no reason that should concern them and their words and actions. Too many had been left in poverty, in famine, in conditions that no human should be left in. Too many homes destroyed, too many businesses left unrecognizable.

Theoretically you had known it all. All your life you had been educated on the possibility of this exact situation. War and its consequences were something you knew too well already, but it was much different to experience it first-hand. And you were not even experiencing it truly first-hand, the people were.

Your routine had changed for the past few months as well. Everything was fast paced. You would be woken up in the mornings either by Donghyuck or your doorkeepers, and would immediately go to have breakfast, checking several newspapers in the process while listening to your father’s senior advisor read out the papers that had arrived that day and summarize the reports of the past days. Then you would move to your office to deal with all the paperwork that were unnecessary burdens on your parents’ shoulders. They would be taking care of calls and meetings while you dealt with the maths and the written bureaucracy. That would go on until it was late in the night and you had to go to sleep to start all over again the next day.

One of the most concerning facts was that you had not heard from Jeno in months, aside from the rare shared secret phone calls between your primary guards and the one letter he was able to send at the very start of things. All you knew was that he was not dead, according to the countless newspapers you had read so far.

And that was all that mattered.

Surely there were days where you were more concerned about him and his well being, but you tried to keep your attention on your work and your people. The distraction, and the fruits of your hard work helped to keep you in line.

It is on one night where you are lounging around with your family in the library to read and forget about the problems a little that Donghyuck barges in, but with a few knocks beforehand in proper etiquette.

He bows his head in greetings when your heads turn at him, and when he picks it up, you can see the slight panic on his face. “Good evening your Excellence. Your Majesty,” Then, he physically turns to you, pointing his feet at your direction where you  stood, picking out another book. “Your Highness, I have the car ready.”

You furrow your brows. “For what reason?”

“There is a tree selection going on to be distributed to people in need,” Your father says without glancing up from his book. “You have been working so hard lately and you hardly even go out to the garden. You deserve to take a breather. Go and take your coat.”

So you do.

Hurrying to your room, you ask for a staff to give you your coat and gratefully receive the help that they offer when they dress you. Donghyuck walks after you, waiting for you just outside of your door. When you come out you realize the restless look he has to his body. Especially when he starts speed walking right after you come out of your room.

He does not say a single word until you are out of the building and walking through the garden, he only encourages you to hurry up. But when you are close to the gates opening up to the road of the palace, he speaks up. “You aren’t selecting trees, I’ve got that covered.”

Your response is immediate. “Where are we going then? Did something happen?” The snow crunches below your feet and it is growing harder to keep up with Donghyuck’s pace as he keeps his eyes nowhere but forwards. “He’s here. I’m taking you to him.”

Donghyuck’s words make your heart jump in your chest half in excitement and half in worry. “How is he—?”

“They were moving bases. Jaemin said the Prince told him to make a stop at the forest,” He smiles slightly then, as you can see from the side. “He needs to see you, apparently.”

A warm feeling spreads over your chest, and excitement finally takes over, as well as happiness. “That is fortunate, because I need to see him as well.”

The car ride to the forest closer to the top of the mountains was a bumpy and somewhat long ride in the black car that melted into the dark go the night. Towns all around were strictly following a dark-out rule each night after a certain hour— to make the areas undetectable from the air and hard to detect even in person in case of an attack. Therefore the ride is definitely dark except for the shining lights of the car, the snowfall growing faster as it climbs up.

Donghyuck sits beside you instead of at the front seat and keeps his eyes narrow and focused on the road. At some point he leans forward and tells the driver that they can drop you two off at this point, and that they should be back here to pick you up in a couple hours sharp.

And then, you two leave the car.

He helps you with walking uphill in the thick snow. The snowfall, although fast paced, is with big and fluffy flakes. Nonetheless, when the slightest wind makes the flakes hit your face, it hurts.

The two of you walk deep into the forest, deeper than you would have expected, and you have a good feeling that you would not have trusted with the process if it was not Donghyuck walking beside you with a lantern in his hand. Another lantern gets visible after a while.

And you get happy, so happy like a child, slipping a bit on the snow when you try to pick your pace up.

But when you see their faces, your heart drops.

You notice Jaemin’s face first, as he is the one holding the lantern, and you notice the big healing slash on the side of his face. It is the initial alarm for you that immediately makes your gaze turn to Jeno who is standing beside him.

And surely enough, he looks horrible. There are several cuts on his face that are not as big as the slash on Jaemin’s cheek but still quite fresh, his lip has long busted before and is now almost healed, there are stitches near his hairline on the left side, and his under-eyes are almost a plum-colored purple from how dark they are. You can almost feel his hurt.

“Oh my god,” Is the first thing that leaves your mouth when you hurry towards him. “What happened to you?”

You try to hug him but he hisses, prompting you to lean back and take his face into your hands instead, inspecting the injuries. This is exactly what I was talking about, you think, I knew something like this would happen. I knew you and the people around you would get hurt somehow, so why did you have to go and fight?

“My love,” Jeno greets you by nuzzling deep into your hands, his head dropping a little, but you do not listen to him. “Are you two okay? What happened?”

“The base got raided, your Highness.” Jaemin responds, and you notice he sounds almost too good for a person that has such a wound on his face. “Hence the change of bases.”

“I am healthy. Just sore.” Jeno adds, and chuckles drily once. “Turns out I am not all too good at one-on-one combat.” He tries to be funny despite themselves, but the state they are in is too bad for it to work. Making light of whatever had happened seemed like a far stretch.

Naturally, you cannot bring yourself to laugh at his joke. “I am thankful for that,” But you smile to comfort you both despite the situation. “Not that you got your bums handed to you, but that you are healthy.”

Jeno giggles with his mouth closed at that, and lets you pull him to a kiss when you tug at his face. His face feels really cold, more so than yours, and you wonder just how long they had been standing outside deep in the forest. “You are cold,” You breathe onto his lips.

“Mhm,” He mumbles. “But I want to stay for longer.” He joins in on it when a smile spreads pulls at the corners of your lips.

Getting a move on, you both sit on the snow under a tree not wanting to stand up for longer because in all honesty, Jeno looks nothing but exhausted. Donghyuck hands his lantern to you so you could have a light source before walking away with Jaemin— not too far as it is easier than ever to get lost in the forest with the dark night and the heavy snow.

“How have you been?” You ask Jeno once you are both comfortably seated, holding his hands in yours in an attempt to warm them up even though he seems to be in some of his warmest clothes. There was no guide on how to approach someone who has been through things he had been through, so you did not know how to and the best you could do was being careful about it. “How are things out there?”

“Like hell,” His answer is immediate. “People invade anywhere and everywhere, making decisions is so difficult, sometimes everything is so loud and mostly unnecessary and—“ He takes a breath. “A lot of them die. From both sides.”

Your heart drops further. “Do the decisions you make, do you think they—?”

Jeno shrugs and shakes his head. “I do not know. I try not to think about it.” His answer is spit out quickly. He takes a hand out of your hold, shaking with stress and probably exhaustion. His fingers rub his temple and his thumb rubs the middle of his forehead to try and ease the tension. “They are not even my decisions,” He speaks with pent up frustration and anger. “What goes in the end is my father’s word and demand.”

“He makes the decisions for you?” You ask with brows furrowed further. “When you are the lieutenant in the field?” A ridiculed chuckle leaves your mouth. “Why is he not there then?”

“I try to deal with everything as peacefully as I can, I plan all these negotiations and I mean, I use the advice that the counselors and other senior military personnel give me,” Jeno rambles. “But when I tell him about it he says that it does not work out for the plan according to the policies we have when in fact they do. Then why did he let me train in the military for so long?”

His chest moves up and down quickly and deeply when he is done with his words. You can see his eyes glistening, which is why you approach him lighter with your next words. “You do not have to inform your father beforehand,” At that, he turns his face to you. “If people agree with you, the heir and the lieutenant, you do not have to get your father’s permission. Let him know afterwards instead.”

“That is ridiculous.” An airy laugh comes out of Jeno. It irks you, how his first move is to shut you out. “He is the King. He has done this for years, and even after this all ends it is his word that counts. And he is my father, I do not want to disappoint him. One wrong thing I make, and all he ever did goes to trash.”

“I am sorry to say this, but in my eyes your father is someone with dead straight views. You could prove yourself to him by showing him it could all work out if your word went instead of his around the field— you could get away with less harm as well,” You try to reach him with your words, your voice soft in an attempt to not agitate him further. “You really do not have to follow your father’s guidance.”

“I do!” You know that it is the pure frustration speaking. “You don’t! Didn’t your father send you there because he trusted you? You are a man fully grown and capable of making your decisions— you will be the ruler sooner than later. Doing what your father tells you to do, constantly, is not going to help with anything especially in the future when it will be you who has the call on everything.”

There is a silence where the two of you do nothing but look at each other. His eyes shift continuously and very slightly as if they are trembling. His jaw clenches and he lets a loaded breath out that comes from deep within his chest, letting his head turn forward again and his back hit the tree. He furrows his brows and a couple of his shaky fingers come up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know,” Another burdened breath. “He has been saying he is proud of me.”

And you understand what it is about.

Nevertheless you hate that he lets his father’s pride do this to him; getting him hurt both mentally and physically. Like before the war, you act in a moment of selfishness as you take his hand in yours again and give it a squeeze. “Let’s run away.” Your voice sounds firm and confident. “Get married at that place deep in the forest, and go to some other place. Run from this madness wherever it follows us and come back when everything is over with,” The smile on your face is audible in your words. “We would be so free, Jeno.”

But Jeno breaks your heart into pieces when a sad chuckle leaves his lips and a heavy whine follows. “I wish we could.”

Without another word, you lean towards him and kiss his neck, his jaw, his cheek and temple. Pulling his hand away from the side of his nose on his cheek, which became its resting place after squeezing the bridge of his nose, you place his arms around you and pull him down to your shoulder by his hair for him to rest. He kisses the side of your neck as well, smiling at the feeling of the slinging chain around it, and slides his head back down.

Your hand still in his hair playing with it, you whisper your last sense to him. “It is your pride in yourself that matters. Not his.”

Jeno only nods. And within a few minutes of his steady breathing, he is fast asleep on your shoulder.

When the guards come back after so long a while you spent playing with his hair mindlessly, you have one request from Jaemin. “Make sure he sleeps on the way, will you?”

The First Breakdown

The first time he had cried to you had happened at a surprise visit.

In fact, he had visited you because of it. Had taken more than several hours of his time and more than several lies through his mouth just to get to you and to be vulnerable. In his defense, it was because he could be so vulnerable only with you.

Even so, you had never seen him cry before.

It was in the middle of the night again when Donghyuck had knocked on the door of your office, where you were catching up on some of your studies. He had told you that you had a visitor, and that they were waiting for you, and it had been all that it took for you to stand up from your chair and start walking with him. Following him, you had gone to the basement again, moved the furniture again, went down the trapdoor again, walked a lot again, and had seen the two silhouettes at the end of the tunnel again.

Only this time, only one of the silhouettes’ shoulders were shaking. And not because of laughter.

Jeno had started crying the moment he had spotted you. Jaemin tried to talk to him, but Donghyuck only pulled him away to go away for keeping watch; gave the two of you the privacy you needed.

It came as a shock at first. Jeno never cried— not once, you think, in the entire time you had known him starting from your childhood years. Even when people cried around him. Even when he was at a funeral. Even when he was too happy. Even when he got hurt and was in physical pain. The only exception would be the times you saw him angry where his eyes would tear up, but never did they spill before.

After they left you—  without wasting any time— pulled Jeno to you, letting him hug you however and wherever he needed. He made himself comfortable with his face in your shoulder, close to your neck, and his arms around your waist with hands spread across your back. You ran your fingers through his hair as he sobbed. Violently so. You could tell whatever he was crying about was not a one-time thing. It had been bottled inside and pent up for too long.

He held you that way and cried maybe for an hour straight for all you knew. But when his tears died down and all that was left were sniffles, you had finally asked him. “What is the matter, sweetheart?”

There was a content sniffle at the choice of your rare use of a nickname, if that could even be a thing. But a few heavy breaths followed after that, like he wanted to say the things on his mind but could not bear to. You only pulled your chest away from his to be able to look into his eyes, and shook your head. “You do not have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Jeno placed his forehead on yours and stood in place, breathing with his eyes shut. You shut your eyes too, trying to connect with him at a level that is beyond words because that was what he seemed to need.

But then his voice cut through the night. “I just want him to love me.”

It angered you to no extent that you knew who he was talking about. “What did he do?”

He chuckled bitterly. “Humiliated me in front of my mother’s family and the whole staff at my early birthday celebration in the morning.” There was a gulp as he weighed the words that were told to him once again, as if they would have been lighter that time. “Said he could not believe I was his only son and only child. That a peasant would have done a better job at being a king if he placed one on the throne right then and there. That I am lost in useless studies. That whatever I do is still clumsy as if I am a kid.”

You let him rant on because whatever this was, it seemed to work. “I try so hard to meet his every demand. His dreams for me are so challenging to keep up with but I honestly try, I do.”

“I know,” But he was not done. “I try to be a good son for him and my mother and I work really hard and I train really hard and—“

“I know, sweetheart.” You pulled slightly away again, and hated that you saw tears flowing down his face once more. “What did your mother do? Did she do something?”

“She told me to go to my room and that she would come to get me,” The smile on his face was tight. “But I couldn’t.” A single sob left his mouth, defeated. “So I asked Jaemin to sneak me out.”

“You did the right thing,” Jeno shook his head and tried to turn it away from you, but your hands took a hold of it from the back. “Hey,” You forced him into eye contact, and saw that his tear-invaded eyes looked almost drunk. Empty and sluggish. Nothing like his usual sparkling, poem-worthy orbs. “You did the right thing by getting out and away from there.” But he shook his head, so you shook yours in a questioning manner, prodding him to tell you why. “When we get back they will ask him about everything first and then they will ask me. I am just troubling him.”

“Believe me when I say you are not. He is your best friend before he is your guard. He cares about you, sweetheart.”

It took awhile for that to sink in, but it did in the end and he nodded, which was what mattered. And you succeeded at making him smile genuinely when you kissed the tip of his nose.

What truly sucked then was the fact that you could not tell him that his father would love him someday. Because you did not believe in it, and you would not tell him what was a blatant lie to you. And despite it all, your beliefs, you could see how much he wanted to be loved by him. How much he wanted to be recognized by him.

So what could you have told him? ‘You do not need his love.’? That did not sound right. That felt like it was the opposite of what he should have heard. ‘Our love for you is stronger than your father’s lack thereof.’? That simply was not true for him even if it was for you and for Jaemin and for his mother, because there was a hole punched in his heart and he wanted it to be filled. Rightfully so.

In the end, you did not tell him anything related to his father. You just told him what was true to you. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. I am so grateful you are here, with me.”

The Last Breakdown

The two of you had not talked to each other in months, let alone see each other.

The war had been going on for too long at that point. It was a wake up call that showed you just how insatiable rulers were. If it was not land they were looking for, it was people that they could exploit in labor, or valuable reserves like mines or things like historical monuments that could be stolen. People were dying still. Even more so than the beginning, in fact. Some places were left in famine, a lot of places were taken over by other rules. Any war crime you could think of was most likely happening just outside the borders of your family’s rule.

Since day one of your education you had learnt about law and order, and ethics, and just like that they were all thrown out of the window in this chaos.

Standing in neutrality had proved to be harder and harder day by day as well. The economic conditions were not getting any better, trade was almost impossible because of the disassociation the other powers and partners who had declared their sides were putting you through, and the damage was big even though your family’s rule was one of the most powerful. Unemployment rates had risen despite your immense efforts to keep it stable, and in turn, healthcare had become a problem, hunger— especially throughout the population who had already been struggling with making a living below the hunger threshold— had become a problem, crime rates were on the rise.

Which was why your father, by the obligation the sociopolitical states provided him, declared sides one morning. Thinking it would be the best thing to do.

Of course it was opposite to the side where Jeno and his family’s rule had sided with. Your families’ stances had never been the same, so there was absolutely no way they could be now. And frankly, you did not care about that even though you recognized how big of an ordeal it was. All you could care about was the safety of your people and your loved ones in these cruel conditions.

Scratch that. You wanted innocent people to stay out of harm’s way. That was all.

War, in your opinion, was cowardice. You still could not wrap your head around the fact that people were mostly doing this just because they had feuds within themselves and the circle of their class. Hundreds of thousands, even millions of innocent lives were destroyed both literally and figuratively over some disagreements between only several rulers that were their ‘representatives’. Which was in fact the biggest lie you could have ever heard of, because they were just hungry for their exclusive benefits. There was nothing in this war’s roots where the actual folk were represented. Just elite individuals and their selfish problems.

Just because the said elite individuals did not want to make sacrifices.

The biggest cowardice.

After the declaration, the hard work you had to put yourself through was at least doubled if not tripled or quadrupled. You could barely get sleep anymore, and would count yourself lucky if you managed to get some shut-eye for a few hours seeing that even when you did get to lie down on your bed it would be restless with thoughts racing through your head. Most of your responsibilities still revolved around document work but at this point the document work had gotten more important and heavier in and of itself, to the point where your eyes burned and your brain screamed at you to give up reading the papers. The maths of it all had gotten a lot worse as well because now there were so many spontaneous expenses paid that sometimes there would be problems with communicating on time between bureaus and people, which would in turn lead to wrong calculations and wrong reports— which would in turn cause you to do everything from scratch again. Sometimes a single, seemingly minor error would take days to make right again.

The Prince came to visit you on one of those restless nights where you were rolling around in your bed with the discomfort weighing on your mind.

Donghyuck came to your door again and requested the doorkeepers to alert you that he was there. They did, and something in your heart immediately knew what was happening, so you only took your coat and bolted out the door.

And now he is rushing through the halls beside you, with you following him. “Where even are they?” You whisper as you pick your pace up, not even in the condition to feel excited about it.

“There is this abandoned farmhouse in the fields across the town.” He responds back, and your eyes widen. “How are they so close?”

“They are both in the military, your Highness.” His voice is serious as he speaks. “I would expect their stealth to be outstanding.”

Donghyuck leads you outside to the back road of the palace and it is raining outside, definitely with an intention to completely pour down within the hours that would follow. He covers your head as best he can with his jacket and places his hand at the top of the car when he opens the door for you, before hopping in himself.

Which is the exact point that you realize there is no driver, and that he hops into the driver’s seat.

“Donghyuck?” You lean forward with a frown on your face, placing your hand on top of the headrest-less seat which has its quality so that guards and whoever is inside can see the people sitting at the back (usually royals or their guests) better to ensure their safety. “What are you doing?”

“This is not a matter we can bring more people into at this point,” He says as he starts the car. “I basically bribed the guards to shut up about taking you outside the palace. If I brought a driver, I would have had to explain the situation.”

The frown deepens on your face just as he presses the gas and the car starts moving. “With what money?” You ask him, and you genuinely fear his answer at that moment.

He carefully drives his way out, even the guards at the gates not stopping the car to question his antics. It really was a wonder how much money he could have offered to them for their silence at only you leaving the palace with him, at an ungodly hour, in a car, and no other information given. It felt extremely suspicious even for an heir and their primary guard.

You could not help but also notice his silence after starting to drive, so you pushed your question. “Donghyuck, with what money?”

The guards tilts his head and licks his lips before making eye contact with you through the rear mirror for a split second. “I had been saving some from the allowance my mother sends me and from my paychecks for some time,” His eyes turn back to the road as your mouth falls open and your brows furrow, about to protest. But he beats you to it. “It doesn’t matter, really,” He says, and you know he means it, because you can hear the genuineness. “It doesn’t matter if it’s for the relief and happiness of my best friend and the person I’ve vowed to protect.”

At his words, you slump back against the seats. There is a lump in your throat that makes it hard to speak, so you do not. You only turn your gaze to the scenery outside your window and take out your necklace through the collar of your coat, holding your engagement ring in shame. It does give you comfort, but you still find yourself wanting to cry.

The ride does not take too long despite the rain, as there are no people outside and on the roads because of the dark-out policy, and since it is a fairly straight drive with no hills to drive up.

The two of you reach the farmhouse without a hassle. Donghyuck puts the car somewhere less visible (even though it is nighttime and the car’s exterior matches the dark) before he allows you to get out. He then guides you to the barn where the Prince and his guard must be and opens the doors.

Again, there are a couple of lanterns around that provide dim and unnoticeable light. The heir and his guard are standing apart, and you can see your love walking up and down with his hands linked at his back. He halts, however, when he sees you.

You waste no time in running into his arms, and the ugly sob that leaves your body is loud enough for everybody to hear when you tackle him with your arms around his neck and shoulders. The tears break free when you nuzzle yourself into him everywhere, squeezing him tight for numerous reasons. Because you missed him so incredibly much, because everything was going bad, because you were tired and you knew he was also tired, because he is looking better than last time where he almost gave you a heart attack, because you love him, and because it hurts that everything has come to a point where two of the people that care about both of you the most, and two of whom you care about the most, has to put themselves in danger and through many sacrifices. Because you feel ashamed for what you are causing. Because somehow everyone standing in that barn is hurt someway or another, even if they are things that all of you can make right whether it be by yourselves or with help.

“I have you, sweetheart,” Jeno whispers as he kisses your cheek, catching a tear that was trailing its way down. You smile at your shared and reserved nickname for the times where one of you had to console the other while they cried, but it is still a bitter one, because you can hear his choked voice as well. “I have you. It is alright.”

But you can see Jaemin behind him and Donghyuck, who is looking down at the ground. Jaemin looks at you with pity and genuine sadness, so much of those that you cannot give them a meaning. Yet it fires something in you when he looks at you like that. The best you can do is to cover your eyes with your hand. “Jeno, we—“

“I know. I know, my love.” He kisses you once more, this time from the top of your head. He rubs your back and holds you tight in his arms as you cry in your shame and emotional overload.

Why does it have to be this way? You think. Why is it so hard to make things work? Why is abhorrence at the base of everything, even love? I love you and you love me, so why do others have to be involved? Why do other factors have to be involved? And even if they have to be involved, why do others have to get hurt because of our love? Why does everything need to be so precise in order to have a chance for this to work? Why can’t this be happy and like a game again, where our excitement is caused by the fluttering of our hearts and not because of the dread that makes our heart race? Why do you have to do what you have to do, and why do I have to do what I have to do?  Outside of our love, why do people have to suffer? Why are people so selfish and filled with so much hatred that there is no place in their hearts for negotiation nor empathy? Why does everything link back to those people in the first place? Why are those people in charge of everything in life?

You weep, and Jeno holds you. He sits you down, and pulls you close to his lap, and he holds you. He asks the guards to please wait somewhere else, and he holds you. Your weeping subsides, and he holds you.

And you remember, when all that is left is your sniffling, that his voice was choked too. That he was about to cry too, when you first walked in.

So you ask him with your hoarse voice. “Why were you upset before, when I first saw you?”

His hand that holds you pulls you close a little tighter. “I wanted to tell you something, but I don’t think I can.”

Your eyes furrow again, but you nod once. “Why?”

He chuckles this deep, airy, thick huff that is full to the brim with emotions you cannot quite decipher, and then says what is on his mind. And his voice is so sad, so loaded and tired that you tear up again at his hopeless words. “I suppose you would not love me the same.”

A tear falls onto his hand resting on his lap with that.

The First ‘I Love You’

Dreamy, was all you could say about it.

It was the fruit of most probably the stupidest thing you two had ever done in your relationship. On one summer night where Jeno and his family were hosting a dance for his cousin’s engagement, he had stood beside you and leant into your ear to tell you that you should meet with him at the vineyard in their garden in half an hour, and excuse yourself saying you are going to your room. He seemed to be playful that night, conversing with anyone and everyone that stood in his way and entertaining them; genuinely happy for his cousin and his fiancé. On top of being entertaining, he looked like he was entertained as well. Aside from the happiness he felt for the couple, there was this whole-hearted, content smile on his face. Even when nobody was conversing with him, or looking at him.

You had gone there as a representative with only Donghyuck accompanying you. The King and the Queen were too busy with duties revolving around politics— and in all honesty, they did not want to be too involved with his family in the first place. So they had sent you as a solution.

It was a good solution for them and you. You could not protest such a plan.

Half an hour seemed to not pass at first. You were eager to be with him, as you did not have the time to meet beforehand, and to be close to him. There was something about the way he made you feel when he smiled around and beamed like a sun under the moonlight with his happiness like that.

To make the time pass, you did everything you could possibly think of. You conversed with people you do not have the slightest connections to, barely knowing who they were. Congratulated the engaged couple with a polite manner and got surprised by the same politeness they seemed to showcase. In return delivered a short speech to them about how lucky they were to find each other and to be with the person they loved and be open and celebrated about it in a world like yours where relationships like theirs between a royal and a commoner were hard to come by.

As if on cue, Donghyuck who must have been informed about the meeting beforehand called for you from just behind you, prompting you to excuse yourself by saying you had already had quite the travel, and that you would be leaving early tomorrow morning. That you had to catch some rest before you left for duty. They nodded in understanding and thanked you for coming, sending their best wishes to your family.

They were almost too good for the royal family they belonged to, but all of it was genuine.

Donghyuck walked you to the front yard then, taking you to the small vineyard area where Jeno was standing. Jaemin was at a distance as far as you could tell, conversing with other staff that seemed to not be guards. Soon enough, though, the staff he had talked to would leave and go to the backyard where the celebration was, leaving the four of you alone in the visible distance.

Jeno met you halfway, greeting you with a sweet peck on your lips. “Welcome, dove,” From the side of your eyes you saw Donghyuck leaving after seeing you two meet to greet Jaemin in the distance.

You giggled at Jeno’s words then, looking at his eyes that bore the rather occasional glasses that night. “I have been here for quite a while now.” He tilted his head and nodded, squinting his eyes, silently saying you are right but not spot on. “But you haven’t been here when it is completely empty. An immensely different version of this place.”

Furrowing your brows, you smiled at him mischievously. “What are you trying to imply?”

And he played along. “The guards are changing shifts,” With a hand, he moved his jacket’s sleeve to look at his watch with slightly furrowed brows. “We still have around five minutes, and I was thinking we could go to my room.”

He beat you to it to understand the rather shocking and awkward way his words sounded. “Only if you would like to.” Even under the weak light of the stars, you could see the embarrassment flushed over his face. The boldness he held had almost dissipated.

All honesty due, you wanted to go to his room. It sounded amazing, getting to spend time with him one-on-one completely alone for the first time outside of a library, where even guards would not enter to leave you unbothered while doing your studies. You wanted to have him to yourself truly, without guards or anybody else for once. So you nodded. “I would like that.”

The smile was back on his face. “Then we should hurry up.”

Taking your hand in his, he hurried you inside. Their palace was just as grand as yours. It was dizzying with the halls and the open plan, grand staircases, and it held a lot of colors to it presumably because of the warm climate. Paintings on the walls, lots of feature walls with art painted onto them, gold linings and marble floors. Nothing like yours, which is older than theirs so a bit grimmer with the colors. The cold climate had its effects on it too. Mostly everything was either dark in color like deep blues and greens or extremely light like almost-white grey, with old wood on the rooms’ floors and stone in the halls.

When you entered Jeno’s room, it felt weirdly familiar. Both of you had balconies, for instance. His balcony doors were right beside his bed, and his room was cluttered with bookshelves just like yours, blueprints and pencils lying around on his desk and his paintings of planets and constellations leaning against the wall under his desk, some of his favorite research papers and scientific articles messily pinned on a big cork board.

His room felt a lot like him to you. It looked all about his interests, anything other than politics which seemed to drain both of your personalities out slowly but surely.

It looked like a safe space.

He showed you his paintings and told you all about them. His love for Neptune for example, how he liked its color and its personation in mythology. How he loved sketching stars the way he understood them from the books he read, transitioning through their seven stages of life, growing bigger and stronger until they expand into a Red Giant where it is its biggest at a diameter up to a hundred times of its original diameter to then transform into a White Dwarf where everything is dense and quickly growing cold, losing all of its personality, and finally the Black Dwarves where they were so old and so cold. Jeno went on to talk to you about how in way too far into the future eventually all the stars would be Black Dwarves and the universe would be even colder than it was then, but that there would be a second explosion where something new started.

He showed you his blueprints, skimming through the lines with his fingers, and told you how he dreamt of renovating the palace with his own prints someday. And he told you about the scientists that would inspire him to not give up on learning about space no matter what.

Jeno did talk about his interests, but usually they were confined to conversations in the library. Never had you once seen him talk about it so passionately before, the kind of passion where it added new sparks to his eyes, and something about it made you extremely happy to see.

At some point he realized he had been rambling about all these things in his room and the stories behind them, and had apologized. “Ah,” He rubbed his nape as it hit him with a chuckle. “Sorry. I get excited when people pay attention to these.”

“No, don’t,” You shrugged with your own smile. “You should not be sorry. It is very refreshing to see someone be so passionate about something.”

There is the start of a silence, but you cut through it before it can take over, pointing to the board. “And I agree with those scientists. Keep learning about the universe in your free time. It would be a shame if you got shackled to the small ground underneath.”

Jeno laughed at that, his shoulders shaking with the airy release. When it died down he looked around his room, his bookcases and desk, and the door that led to his bathroom, the documents he had taken care of that day before the event had started placed on the armchair next to the bookshelf, several notes set on them reminding him to do the things he had to take care of the next day.

And then he huffed, walking over to his bed and sitting down. He fiddled with his fingers a little. Looked up at the ceiling. Another lonely chuckle left him as he contemplated on what he wanted to say. “Can you.. Do you think—?“ One more fierce huff through his nose, but then he looked at you. “Can you not go to your room tonight?”

He saw that you were about to protest on auto-control, so he stopped it before it could happen, and made it a silent promise to himself that it would be okay if you wanted to leave. Even if it happened to be right then. “We do not have doorkeepers at night. No offense to how your family does things, but it feels creepy for me to have it, so we just do not have them. You would not be stuck or anything.” He shrugged, smiling but pouting at the same time, if it could even be a thing. “It is just really nice to have you in here.”

With the comfort of what he had just told you, you smiled and hoped Donghyuck would not lose his mind until the morning. “I think I can stay.”

Walking over to him on his bed, you stood in front of him and let him hug your middle with his head on your stomach. You ran your fingers through his hair repeatedly knowing he liked the combing feeling on his scalp. At some point while you played with his hair and scalp he tilted his head, placing his chin on your stomach instead and looking up at you with a smile on his face. The genuine, happy and content smile you had seen on his face throughout the night before you fled to his room. “I think I am in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

Your fingers faltered with the smile that spread on your face, and the warmth that spread through your chest surely reached everywhere at the spoken knowledge of being loved. Truly and utterly loved.

You had your suspicions of it before with the way his words sounded and the way he acted. But to hear them being confirmed, so casually and bold and with confidence, made you feel like the most important person alive. In a different way than how it had felt all your life. Like it was only the two of you that mattered on the face of the Earth. Hell, like it was only the two of you that existed on the face of the Earth.

Then your hands retracted from his hair to carefully take his glasses off, putting them on the side table closest to you. Slowly you knelt down until you were face to face with him, and told your love your only request from him. “Kiss me and promise me a forever.”

So he did. Jeno gulped a little at first, keeping his eye contact with an intense gaze, one that mirrored everything in and around him. But then he crashed your lips with his, bringing a hand up to your neck and tugging at it gently in hopes of bringing you down onto the bed with him, which ended up being a wish that you granted. You let him pull you down and lay you down on the bed underneath him as he kissed you, not only on your lips anymore but anywhere he could find exposed. “I don’t want to call you dove anymore, as pretty as it is.”

“Hm?” Was all you could respond with as he kissed your neck. “I want to call you my love.”

At that did something burn and tumble inside you, and you found yourself talking before you could hold it back. “Say that again.”

He laughed out a huff. “My love,” He kissed your collarbone, nibbling only a little, driving you two to the edge with the frustration of what did not come after. “My love,” The nook between your jaw and your neck. “My love.” And your lips, sinking down with all he could offer you. It sounded better— more right in his ears to call you that, and you had to admit that the feeling of being treated exactly like what he called you was otherworldly.

When he pulled away from you, his lips puffy and his gaze still intense yet somewhat softer with the adoration that made itself more apparent, he gave his promise. “I love you my love, and I will for an eternity.”

With a laugh, you gave him your own promise right then and there too. “I promise to love you until the end of time.”

He found it appropriate to meet his lips with yours again, and this time, it was with a newfound hunger you had for each other, filled with the wish to know one another on a level you could not know otherwise had you not loved each other, intimate and private and special. The kind that made your heart race and your stomach twist in the best way possible. The kind that did not feel rushed, but instead gave you relief in knowing yes, it had not been wrong all this time. It was him for you, and for him it was you; the one.

Jeno made love to you that night when he asked you if he could and you gave him the permission, wanting to lose yourself in him and his love and yours. For once you got to spend a whole night with him, making love and talking and showing your love to each other.

And after that, the memory of him under his white sheets kissing you and laughing with the light blue of the lifting night, and the weak but golden-white rays of the early morning sun became the dearest thing to your heart and mind.

Jeno and white, and Jeno in white reminded you of that night.

The Last Goodbye

Everything starts at the dead of the night.

You do not know what was more alarming to you. The crashing sounds of windows that woke you up from your light sleep? The hurried steps that turned into running outside your room, breaking into an unsettling rhythm in the pure silence? The sound of crashing doors and harshly turned locks? The sounds of metal clanking? The occasional firing of the guns and the couple of groans and shouts that follow them? The shouted codes between the guards right outside your room? The surprised curses that leave whoever’s mouths? The unsettling feeling of not knowing who is who outside, perhaps?

Or the fact that you are completely alone for a few minutes, not knowing where to hide because of the shock?

More, the fact that Donghyuck takes longer than you would expect him to come get you, pushing you into thinking did they get to him? Did something happen to him?

There is not a single question in your mind about what this is. The palace is getting raided with soldiers— not that many like a whole army, considering the somewhat inactive nature the commotion seemed to have while you listened to it from your room. Never did you ever feel grateful that your room was placed in a deep and unsophisticated hall away from the library and the archives and the throne room, but you felt so grateful for it as you could do nothing but hide yourself away, locking the balcony doors and covering the doors with your curtains— completely blacking your room out.

You hurry over to the bathroom then, waiting next to the wardrobe sunken into the wall, knowing the far right compartment of it has an opening to a pathway between the walls of the rooms in between the halls that is otherwise inaccessible except from the way down.

The commotion grows more aggressive as you wait. Gunshots grew more frequent yet did not fail to make you jump in your place, and it is when you hear an order of search around that you lock yourself further in your room, locking the bathroom doors as well. You could not see anything, so there was nothing to do but wait for Donghyuck until he came to get you. Just opening the compartment and walking into it was not a possibility as well, since you had no idea what was and was not going on down under the palace.

You lose sense of time as you sit on the cold, stone floor of your bathroom. You lose a big chunk of your sense of self as well. That big chunk of your self melts into the sense you lost, vision, and doubles your attention on hearing. Everything sounds more clear, more violent, and more scary, as you hear bodies falling onto the ground and punches and kicks if it was not guns and daggers. You did not even know such sounds could leave from people’s mouths when they shouted orders and codes and warnings.

Maybe you wait for an hour. Maybe for a few. Or only a few minutes. But in the end someone opens the compartment open silently, filling the bathroom with the artificial light coming from the lantern in their hand, and you only hope that it is Donghyuck.

Thankfully, it is.

His head peeks out from the door and he searches for you, rushing over when he spots you. He kneels down on his feet to level with you and holds his arm out. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” You say, but truthfully, you do not know how you are. You are okay in the sense that you do not have any wounds or injuries, but experiencing something so violent you had only known in theory before? Could anybody be okay when they experience such things, and are separated from the people they care about, completely isolated even though it is in an effort to keep them safe?

Donghyuck links his arm in yours and pulls you off the floor and bolts the two of you out of the compartment door. He locks it behind him, and takes his belt off of his pants, rounding it around the top of the door hinge and securing it by tying— trying to push the door forwards and back, satisfied when it does not budge the slightest bit.

He then picks the lantern he had placed on the ground and rushes over to you, leading you to the narrow stone stairway and taking you down.

The way down is far deep. You pass through rooms you had not known existed, open and close countless doors at the top of the stairways, and you have a good feeling that you go way down under the ground floor of the palace. But you arrive at the destination within a few minutes of basically running down the stairs nonetheless, and you know it is the lair under the palace that you had never been in before.

It is almost a smaller version of the palace. There is a lounging area, a very compact library and office separated in a small room, a kitchen and a bathroom all the same. The place has its own landline— though you hardly expect it to be available to anyone outside of staff.

You can see the council members, some of the military officials, and their personal guards, along with some staff from the kitchen who had most probably been doing early preparation for the next day. There are documents of all kinds sprawled across the lounge table and some across the floor, and you see the military officials jotting down their notes, as well as the heads of the council. All eyes land on you when you walk down the last step and hear Donghyuck close the door from behind.

Your parents are nowhere to be seen.

With your hands sweating immediately and clammy, you ask. “Where are my parents?”

Your father’s senior advisor stands up and walks over to you as a few others look down. There is nothing good that could come out of that, and you feared the answer, to the point where you do not know if you want to hear it. The advisor lands his hands at the sides of your arms, a touch you do not mind and find rather comfortable, considering you had known him your entire life and would trust him with everything. “Your Highness,” He starts. Donghyuck comes to stand just a step behind you before he can continue. “The King has gotten severely injured, but he is stable and soon he will hopefully be in good health.” His wrinkled, bright eyes look at you behind his glasses reassuringly and calmly. You wonder how he actually feels. “We are taking him and the Queen away to a safer place away from here. With some of our best doctors at their company.”

Worried, you feel your heart skip a beat. You can feel the sadness running to your head and chest like a wild horse, but the confusion that hits you presses it back down. “How will we deal with this if he is not here?”

The old advisor glances behind over his shoulder, and at the agreeing nods, he turns back to face you. He clears his throat. “The King is unable to attend to his duties presumably for a much longer time than the matter at hand, and the Queen is royal by crown and not by blood. Therefore, she cannot be the next ruler.”

Opening his mouth, he takes a big breath, and gives you the news with a full chest. “Hence why we need you, as our new monarch.”

A wave of high voltage electric rushes over you then within less than a second. His voice being calm, and him speaking the words out trying to ease you into them does not help at all. You feel like your knees will give out but you do not let them, because there is this part in your brain that has somehow already accepted this and is screaming at you to keep your composure. What leaves your mouth, though, is not much the same. “I can- I cannot do that, my education—“

You get cut off with reassuring words. “Your education would have continued until the day you had no chance but to become the monarch, no matter how long it took,” And then with some of encouragement. “Most fruitful practice comes out of the ruling process, and it is very unfortunate that you are in this situation your Highness, but you have trained for this all your life. There is not a person in this room who can do this better than you.”

And you can feel all eyes on you, pitying you and worried for you. Although pitiful, their eyes do have good meanings behind them for the most part, wishing you good luck for both their sake and yours. It is understandable even though it hurts to see it.

Taking another breath, the advisor speaks, holding you tighter between his hands and rubbing them a little to ground you. “I will bring the book now, okay?”

Without a single thought, you nod.

It happens in a blink of your eyes. The advisor moves to the library and everybody stands up from their seats, and those who're standing away come just a bit closer. They still give you the space you need, and Donghyuck pats your shoulder lightly, giving you the most genuine smile he could muster at that moment. And when the senior advisor comes back he holds out the book of constitutional law upright, looks into your eyes seriously, tells you to put a hand on the book and the other in the air, and asks you to repeat the Oath after him. “You can take your time,”

But you do not. You repeat the words after him at the same pace. I vow to protect my people and love them as my own family. I vow to work towards my people’s best interests. I vow to see and listen to them. I vow to see them as my equals no matter the situation and the differences. I vow to never stop working for the betterment of my own, until the day I pass, or until the day I have to step down. I vow to see my place on the throne sacred and important, and I vow to recognize my power and its consequences. And I take the oath, right now and in the witness of my aiders and the people, to serve them as their monarch for the days to come.

Everyone in the room bows and kneels around you, and you take your hand off the book. Just like that you become the monarch and nothing about it is as you imagined, even though you have never imagined it before.

“Your Excellence,” The advisor smiles a soothing smile. The change of honorifics feel unnatural immediately. “I sincerely hope better days are destined for your rule.”

You hope so, too.

There is no time for anything to sink in as the seniors all take you into the small library to have a meeting. They tell you all they know, that a remote number of soldiers still roaming around at least a couple thousand have broken into the palace and the nearby town mostly in civilian outfits, and that there is a number of people that has been taken hostage. Not much damage was done according to them, as in there was not an expectedly big number of people who had lost their lives as these some thousands of soldiers broke their way in. The towns were left in relatively good shape. “I suspect they are here for the palace and your father, your Excellence.” One of the military personnel says, and adds. “Our troops are after the soldiers with all their equipment to take the hostages back. They will be severely outnumbered, so I am positive we will succeed.”

And then, they talk about national security following this night, and the guards who have lost a significant amount of staff. They talk about the upcoming days where you would have to appear in front of your people to address these events and to give your condolences, describing in detail what is being done in the aftermaths of this first-hand attack your people and you have experienced, and what will be done to ensure the security’s, the justice’s, the politics’ and the legislation’s wellbeing, as well as addressing your efforts of the sociopolitical betterment that will inevitably see positive progress if you do the right things.

That is exactly what scares you to no extent. The possibility of not doing the right things at a time like this.

So when they leave, you stay in the library, digging into your most trusted sources of law, security and sociology. You take notes, and read, and take more notes, and think of how you might apply these theoretical things practically, and take notes when the ideas come to discuss with the advisor later, and read— and it becomes a cycle. At one point the landline in the library that you had not noticed its existence of rings, and you get the news that around a dozen of soldiers have gotten captured across the land, one close to the palace who was being interrogated. You work on the documents given to you by the seniors, sometimes calling them in and asking them questions and advice on your notes as they have been specifically at these things for years. You do not recall ever working harder before in so many areas at the same time, and you hate that it is such a thin ice you are walking on. One wrong step and you fall in the icy water, bringing the people you have vowed to protect along with you.

Some things go well. The hostages got released suspiciously early on, before the troops in your rule could get to them. They took the hundreds of hostages back with them for interrogation and to provide them food and water, and if needed, healthcare. Which only meant one thing, really.

This was a dirty work. An attempt at an assassination, most likely targeting specifically your father, and espionage. A wide network of an espionage, and thousands of soldiers had left with whatever information they had. Their targets were you and your family, not the people, even though a good part of them got affected.

It felt incredibly wrong for you to admit it, but you were almost grateful that the palace was the target instead of the people. You would have rather lost information than people, because you were strong, and you knew you could tackle whatever problem was thrown at your way once you got the hang of things.

And since you do not have the luxury of time, you were already getting the hang of things slowly but surely.

After a couple of hours, while you are tackling everything related to law and law in war as they are most important to you for the night, Donghyuck excuses himself in with a knock at the door.

By the way his face looked, you could tell you were going to get bad news.

“Your Majesty,” He starts. But you notice that he cannot find it in himself to look into your eyes. “I have the reports back from the interrogation of one of the captured soldiers.”

He hands you the papers, and you gladly take them. Name, Huang Renjun. Position, Private. Why did they raid? To get information from the archives. For what reason? For the use of the King. Was he involved in the assassination attempt? No, he was not appointed to that purpose. Did he hate your land? No, he did what he had to do. Why did he have to do it? Because he has a mother to look after, and the military pays well enough. Why was he involved in espionage? Because he had done it before. Why was he dressed in uniform? Because he wanted to get back to his mother if he ever got caught and had to serve time in jail, he did not want to take the right away from her— the right to visit him. Why was he shaking? They would not do anything to his mother, right? No, they would not. They are not that type of people. He has been providing useful information and been hopefully truthful until now, could he tell his lieutenant’s name?

Lee Jeno.

Surely it cannot be real.

You look at Donghyuck, and see him looking at you now. “I’m sorry.” Is all he can say.

It is as if someone pours a bucket of boiling hot water down your head, and another bucket of ice cold right after. You feel your heart sink. Disappointed, sad, let down, but what hurts the most is that you do not feel like it does not make sense.

Your hand tightens, squeezing the pen in your hold as the other lifts to rub your temple, both elbows placed on the table for support. Although you want to cry and scream, what leaves your mouth instead is an airy, unhumorous chuckle.

It takes a few seconds for it to kick in. “Take me to him.”

The guard opens his mouth, but you shut him up. “I do not care where and how. Just take me to him.”

Donghyuck comes back to get you in what feels like less than an hour.

When you get out of the small office you had been stuck in for hours, most of the military and security advisors and seniors are nowhere to be seen. They were most probably dealing with the finalization of the reports of the captured soldiers, transferring them to the hands of the judiciary system. The lair, at that point, was more of a place used simply because the palace could not be used still. Duties were still duties and not all of them could be delivered to a few floors underground.

The senior advisor— your senior advisor was about to protest when he saw you walk away with Donghyuck alone, but you simply told him you had to see it for yourself as the reason for your outing. You decline when he offers you more company, saying he could provide you with more guards.

Then, you were out.

But you do not make your way through the palace. It hurts when you notice Donghyuck is taking you through the basement again, even though it makes sense. Nobody knew about the tunnel system still.

You make a note in your mind to change that after today.

Feeling numb in the eerie quiet of the palace, you let Donghyuck lead the way, helping him with the furniture, dropping down the trapdoor, and walking beside him. Neither of you talk. What could he possibly say? What Jeno had done was beyond words.

When you arrive at the end of the tunnels him and his guard are there. Standing in silence. You pick your pace up, unlike the excited and hurried steps you used to take, but angry, disappointed and confronting. Jaemin looks at you before he does, and you see his pitiful look. He does not greet you with the usual nod he does. Jeno looks at you only when you are a couple of big strides away from him, his eyes bright at first, but dimming slowly.

This is the first time you meet him ‘alone’ in early daylight. And frankly, you do not care if somebody finds this place and discovers him at that point.

Taking the last couple of strides, you come to a halt in front of him with a considerable distance between you two. Your chest rises up and down with all the emotions you are feeling and all the thoughts that are racing through your head. With one particularly angry breath, you speak. “Jeno, I have one request from you, and that is for you to tell me my best friend and primary guard is lying and mean it.” At the mention of your guard you had pointed at him with your finger, looking into Jeno’s eyes to find something.

But he does not speak. Because he cannot lie. Because your best friend and guard was, in fact, not lying to you. Because he really was at the lead of all of this. And the guilt, you could see in his eyes that did everything to avoid your intense gaze.

Figures you were not the only one who noticed that, because you hear the sound of Donghyuck’s pistol behind you. You look back at him to see his gun pointed at Jeno, and you hear another one drawn behind you. Namely Jaemin’s, pointed at Donghyuck.

Everything really kicks in then.

Alarmed, you raise your voice. “Nobody is shooting anyone.”

Jeno does nothing. Does not back you up, nor say his independent thought. He just watches, frozen in place, looking at you and yet not looking at you. “Donghyuck, lower your gun down.”

“But—“ You shut him up for the second time within a few hours. “I said, lower your gun down.”

He does, and Jaemin follows suit. You turn back to look at the person standing in front of you.

You do not know who this person is, you cannot tell. Because the Jeno who stands before you is not the one you know. He is not the one you love as well. Because the Jeno you love is someone who has his own pride, feelings, dreams and conscience. Someone who has his own passions. Someone who stands against all the bad and all the evil. He is someone who loves people and who loves you, who is truthful to the people he loves and cares about. And he cares about a lot of people.

But this person in front of you, this Jeno, is not him. This is someone who wanted his father’s acceptance so much that he let it swallow him whole. When, even though he protested he was not, he was someone fully capable of making his own decisions. This is someone who is alright with being used as a puppet for the foreseeable future. This is someone that gave up his personality and dreams just to go with someone else’s. This is someone that did not care if others got hurt because of him. This is someone who is selfish, willfully blind and deaf.

The Jeno standing in front of you was someone you would pity at best. The Jeno that stood in front of you was someone that would be much like his father. Not respected and looked down upon. Oblivious to his doings.

There was so much you wanted for the person that stood in front of you. You desperately wanted him to have a part of himself that recognized the things he had done until this point, whatever he did to you and long before that. You wanted him to experience the aftermath for years to come. To hear the consequences was one thing— they could enter through one ear and immediately come out of the other, as fast as if he had not even heard it. But seeing the consequences would be different. Turning a blind eye every single day would be impossible. You want him to live in the reality of what has happened, and you want some part of him to recognize everything from today on as well.

Looking at his empty eyes, you furrow your brows and sigh. “Most of the soldiers will be handed over once their judiciary process is done. They were caught in uniform.”

You do not even feel like talking to him. It is so disappointing, he is so disappointing; you had such hopes both for the two of you and him. He had his dreams and this person he wanted to grow to be. And nothing about this was what hope entailed for you two. Individually and as a pair, and as people who had huge populations of people dependent on you and following you.

Instead of saying all the things you would like to say to him, you reach for your necklace with a shaky sigh. You take it off, and hold the ring out for him to take.

Jeno obediently opens his hand under yours, and you drop the ring into his palm. You cannot even find it in yourself to close his hand when he fails to do it promptly. Partly because you are scared you are doing the wrong thing and that there is hope for him still, and partly because you knew you would break if you did.

“Leave, Jeno. Take your hand off my rule, my people and my family. Take your men, too.” You take a deep breath and straighten up, looking deep into his eyes that still have sparks somehow.

Not being strong was not an option. “And never come back.”

Jeno nods only once ever so slightly, gulping and closing his palm, putting the necklace into his chest pocket before turning back on his heel and walking out into the bright and silver snowy morning light that surely consumes him whole with his guard on his trail.

It is extremely difficult to watch him walk away. Because the bottled up emotions rush to your chest and the memories rush to your mind, and it hurts when the acknowledgement of the past few years of your life is being thrown into the trash dawns on you. The past genuinely beautiful and happy years of your life where the two of you had taken so many risks, so many things to account, had told so many lies to make everything work. Where you had shared so many laughs, some tears, a lot of secrets- the biggest secret the two of you could possibly ever share, so many kisses and fond words and physical affection. Where you had shared your true love at the expense of living it undercover. Because you had loved each other so purely and so intensely that you could do anything for each other. Still, you believed that what you two had was such an incredible, true, and big thing.

Which was exactly why your heart physically hurt when he disappeared from your sight.

Because you knew who did this was not him, and that the person who disappeared from your personal life for good was not him. The ‘him’ you loved was nowhere to be found in whoever this was; someone who lived according to the strings that were being pulled. Who this person once was, would only live in your memories. And even those, with the start of your healing process, would slowly but surely die down.

So much for an eternity.

The First Vow

After the war everything turned back to normal slowly but surely.

You were becoming better and better at this ruling business you had to attend to, keeping in touch with the communities more in the aftermaths, occupied with duties of all kinds from any branch, meeting people, going on travels for said meetings, seeing beautiful sceneries. There would be new faces at the palace to get acquainted with every once in a while. You would get to go to trips in your own land, visiting farmers and asking about how harvest season was treating them, visiting businesses to see if they could hold up in the fragility of post-war days, visiting families in need to have a chat with them and hear them out, to see if you could do anything for them. More often than not you would be able to provide them care and whatever else it was that they needed. Sometimes you would visit schools and the neighborhoods no one dared to go into, and you would try to help them, too.

Sometimes you would check on the prisons and courts to see how the atmosphere was, and sometimes you would have a brief chat with Renjun on visiting days, updating him on his judiciary situation yourself.

Did the anxiety completely dissipate after what happened? No. Definitely not. The fact that you had gone through espionage on a very big scale was a fact that still stood strong.

But your father was there to aid you with his wisdom. Back on his feet and retired, living at a house far from the palace, your mother and him kept the doors open for you for whenever you had the time or the wish to pay a visit. Him and your mother’s experiences as well as their advice helped you so much during the beginning of your rule where everything felt like you had to learn how to walk again. You were grateful for them and your advisor, who would not comply with your words and just retire because he wanted to help you out as long as he possibly could.

Some things were nice. You were adored by the people, because you had been loyal to the oath you had taken so far. Your full days and duties were keeping your mind off of most things that could bring you down. The palace staff and you seemed to have a close relationship as well, genuinely having fun in your daily life because of your young aura that beamed with energy. Truthfully you were energetic. There was no way you could do what you did if you were not as energetic. You pushed yourself to be happy too, reminded yourself of these things to keep you going.

Yet, some things were bad. There were a lot of things that you could not get no matter how hard you tried, but that was okay, because you were trying no matter what too. The fact that your parents had moved out left you with the reality of living alone in an utterly gigantic space. You would have to eat breakfasts and dinners alone, reading a book while you ate because no one would agree to have a meal with you even though you told them it was okay— except for Donghyuck who would agree to have lunch with you most days. Going to your room would leave a bitter taste inside your mouth. And when you laid down on your bed, sometimes the daydreams of what you could have been come up.

You try to push them away, but sometimes you find yourself breaking down over them anyway.

And then, there are some realities. Like the fact that all these duties, although incredibly helpful at distracting, were growing to be a bit too much for you. The fact that you really needed to share these duties with someone to get some workload off your shoulders. The fact that although wise and helpful, your advisor is growing older and older, and you want him to have a retirement.

The fact that you need another monarch.

It is ridiculous how you deal with it. On one restless night where your mind is flooded with things you need to take care of and the things that are yet to come, you find yourself leaving your bed and your room. Without a drop of sleep in your eyes you walk down the halls and greet the guards silently with a smile on your face, changing the wings of the palace twice to go to the far left end and walking down numerous sets of stairs to get to the room you were looking for.

When you do get to it, you knock only once and excuse yourself in not caring if the guards were staring, finding your guard and best friend on his bed about to pass out. “Why is there such a thing where royals can walk into places without any alert beforehand?”

“I knocked.” He hums at that, and you move to take the seat in the chair at his desk across from his side of the bed. You look at him, who has his arms under his pillow, and think that it is better to pull the bandaid quickly rather than easing it. “Donghyuck.”

“Hm?” You love how he has given up on the honorific in this setting. Usually he would call you by your rather new honorific to get his mouth used to it. “Will you marry me?”

He snickers. “Isn’t that a rather important question to ask me at this hour?” You only smile, so he questions further with his squinted eyes. “Why?”

You shrug. “I need someone to share duties with, and I need someone who will understand me. The only person I can trust is you.”

That makes him smile sleepily, a soft huff of breath leaving his nose, causing his chest to jolt a bit forward. “Well I think I will have to take you up on that.”

“You do not have to,” You whine, a bit annoyed at yourself. “I can hold on for longer. Assign another senior advisor, I don’t know.” But it would not be the same as having someone you could constantly trust. And you needed that, someone who can be there for you whenever you needed them to, as much as you needed another monarch.

You also needed a partner if you were to commit to something so big.

“No, really,” He assures. “I feel honored. I don’t have much of a life outside of my life as your guard already. Which is okay, because I love it. I love that I get to spend so much time with my closest friend despite what they have to do, so when you ask that from me, it feels as something I would only benefit from,” There is a silence before he picks his words back up again, realizing they do not sound the greatest when they are left there. “As a person.”

“It is not that simple,” You warn him as you feel he leaves out some important points. “You will be the King. That is going to take a lot of work, at least a couple of years’ intense education. And all this time you have gotten used to shadowing people. It is a completely different thing to have countless shadows following you with every step you take.”

In all honesty you expect for him to consider it. To retract from his words, and to say that he is in fact not fit to that role because he wants to live a life more free. But he does not. Donghyuck just smiles and buries his face deeper into the pillow, and holds out a hand to you. “I was serious when I said I’ll have to take you up on that. I am willing to do whatever it takes.”

Relief washes over you then. It feels as if almost a big, heavy weight has been lifted from your shoulders at the knowledge that you will get to have someone to really help you out with everything and be there for you; someone who you will be willing to do all the same for them. And how fortunate it was that your closest friend would be that someone, because you think you lacked the energy to look out for new people at this point.

You sigh as you place your hand in his, holding onto his fingers when his curl into yours. “Thank you.” You whisper, and feel your hand get tugged towards him before you can feel his lips on your knuckles. “Let’s give these people the most flamboyant royal wedding they will ever witness.”

The two of you share a light laugh that would have surely been louder if it was not for the stupidly late hour this conversation took place in.

And that was it.

You had to remove Donghyuck from his position as your guard when you announced your engagement, getting rings the day after the conversation and breaking the news to the council at an emergency meeting. Thankfully they seemed to be on board with that, and teased the two of you for all the times you disappeared together without much explanation.

It made your heart pang that no, although you had disappeared together you two had not been the lovers. It was for and with someone else. Nonetheless, you were glad that they felt that way, so you made light of the situation by joining in on their laughs.

Donghyuck starts his education immediately after the announcement. It is a nightmarish process almost, seeing him so deep into studies you are far too acquainted with at that point, being reminded of your own struggles trying to learn. Sometimes you would meet him at the library if you had piled up document work to meet and work with him, which would result in him asking you questions about stuff he did not understand when the tutor was not around. Some other times he would nervously laugh at the dinner table (that he could finally join you at) when you would quiz him on things he should have learned, but he would do a great job at that as well, even with his occasional slip-ups.

Donghyuck would make public appearances with you from time to time, and the people would be loving the idea of you and him together. They would tell you how you went so well with each other and how you were so powerful together and they were great compliments, they were, but sometimes they would hurt you deep down even though you had a smile on your face.

In the first year of his education, you get a letter inviting you to a conference held in impartial land. A conference where safety measures and war prevention will be the focus, and one that will be held annually. You agree to it, go alone, see faces (one face in particular) that you do not want to see, and come back.

At a grand meal close to the end of the year with your family and the staff and the council and their own families, someone asks about the wedding plans. That happens to be the exact moment when you realize you do not have plans for your own wedding, and they tell you it is okay before drunkenly jumping from idea to idea on the colors and the venue and whatever else they had to talk about.

Mid-year after that, you slowly start letting Donghyuck in your business. You give him first-hand education, saying these documents should be handled like that and these types of documents should be taken into meetings instead of those ones even though they are basically the same thing, and these reports come from here to go to there, and they go there when you hand them to someone (which sometimes happened to be him in the past) but when you are the one sitting down while doing all your work you call people over like this when you want something to be delivered. And when you file them you can have your own way but one that is preferably neat, I like to do it this way, for example. It becomes an occurrence that grows more and more frequent as time goes by.

Around the cold fall of that year, Donghyuck almost gets done with his education. He had known quite a lot in theory having been with you for a long time and that was probably what helped with him and his pace, and since it came to that, the wedding planning started. Your parents joined in at that as well, and you got to see Donghyuck’s mother and siblings for the first time in years. Which was why you proposed to him the possibility of moving them into a house closer to the palace, or even into the palace that night. Because you knew his relationship with his family was close and sacred to him, and you knew that it had been interrupted by his heavy shifts as a guard and his obligation to stay in the palace. So, you thought it would be convenient for both sides if they lived closer.

Attire fittings for the wedding are always eventful with chitter chatter, some dramatic emotional response from both mothers and fathers as you two stood on platforms with your arms wide open to the sides, the tradition about to-be spouses not seeing each other’s attires until the wedding inapplicable simply because everything has to be perfect at a royal wedding.

Throughout everything, choosing outfits, choosing themes and colors, choosing the venue and sending the invitations, there is always a slight pull at your heart’s strings. The kind of pull where it feels a bit pitiful and hard to breathe. Sometimes your hand lands itself around the area on your chest where your first engagement ring would fall onto, and most times you can stop yourself by saying it is completely unneeded but sometimes you cannot stop it— and sometimes you can see Donghyuck realizing it.

But the hardest is when the wedding day finally comes right after the new year’s, on a bright sunny day without snowfall, which was extremely rare for where you lived. Everything was still and calm outside but not inside, neither inside the venue nor inside your heart and mind.

The reality of getting married gains another dimension when you walk into the venue. At the heart of a town rather far from the palace, the venue does not have the feeling of being far from home with its stone structure, greenery that surrounds it, and its grand scheme. Decorated in royal blue and a bright red that matches the liveliness of the blue, everything looks like how a royal wedding should look. There are golden lights on the walls and dropping from the ceiling that bring the power of the decorations down with their warmness yet somehow also emphasize the importance of everything. The old structure has cracks in which various plants and ivies have made their way in, the sole reason you and Donghyuck had chosen this place. Because you both believed that they symbolized second chances and faith, seeing as these plants had somehow survived the cold and the stones placed on top of the earth, and had been strong enough to crack through and claim this place as their home.

Overall, everything is bright, red and blue and green and golden, and it looks like this is your destiny. And everything including Donghyuck welcomes you, even though there is a road of hurt and imperfection that you still have to walk on.

You are grateful for that feeling.

Yet, suddenly everything feels wrong and out of place when you start the process of getting ready. Not because of Donghyuck and his dear soul that was trying his hardest, but because of yourself. Because your past self that was once in love with a person that did not exist anymore was still looking for a way and time to throw a tantrum about it all. It made sense, somehow, that it was at the most inappropriate moment that it would decide to act up.

The bigger problem is that a lot of people can see how you feel, presumably because you get quieter and inactive. You are extremely distracted from everything that you get so clumsy, tripping all over the place in the old, stone building that had greenery cracking through its a few centuries old material. The people who dress you might as well have been dressing a toy with how nonchalant and flappy your body was.

Despite the obstacles, they get you dressed and taken care of at your room, where you can hear people starting to walk into the venue. At first it is a few greetings between some handfuls of families and people, but it so quickly turns into a sea of undetectable voices that it is almost scary. Everyone sounds excited and happy outside in the hall, and you can hear them dining and conversing on topics that were mostly around you. That was nice after having your name in gossip for quite a long time regarding the espionage and your seemingly amateur ways of ruling, and the ones that suspected a relationship between you and the person you used to love.

Neither side shut the gossips down, but they died down anyways. You had gotten engaged shortly after their surfacing.

At some point people’s voices start to dim down. The wavy ocean turns into a much more still sea with hushed conversations, and it is then that you are able to hear the chants outside.

The happy chants of your people, who had come there to celebrate.

Donghyuck walks in when you get frozen in place, looking at the big, frosted and stained windows as if you could hear the chanting clearer if you did so. From the corner of your eye you see him nod his head slightly to the side and smile, silently ordering people to leave the room to only the two of you.

The ceremony would start soon.

He comes to stand in front of you, and he opens both of his hands, palms looking upright. You look down at them when you notice his moves and let your eyes linger there, not knowing if confidence or hesitance would take over you first.

Not being strong was never an option.

You place your hand in his with a deep exhale, and meet his eyes. Donghyuck smiles at you, as if to say it is alright. It will be okay.

And then he speaks.

“I know I am not the one you would have liked to have here today,” He starts, and that hurts you perhaps with the truth but also with your newfound care for him upon getting engaged, but he does not let you protest. “But I have once sworn to protect you with my life, and I just want you to know that I will continue on with it. And I swear to you— forget the Oath I will take in a matter of minutes now, I swear to you that I will try to be the best I can be for you, for us, for whatever that means from now on, and for our people.”

You smile at him with your first genuine smile of the day when a fresh comfort washes over your heart the same way an angry and fizzy ocean wave washes over the shore, and give his hands a squeeze, holding onto the hopeful future they offer. Thank you.

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolate Prince and The Lovely Maiden {Willy Wonka x Rose Bucket AU}

Chapter 3

When The Maiden meets The Hunter

Tagging: @holdmeicant @frozenhuntress67 @pastelmoonwitche @arinnasweetslove​

The rays of the rising sun were just beginning to peek through the cottage windows when that aggravating alarm bell woke up Rose and Charlie. That was Avonmora’s bell and it signalled for the Bucket children’s slave duties to begin.

“I hate that bell more than anything, Rosie” Charlie grumbled. He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. They felt crusty from his slumber.

“I do too, Charlie” Rose agreed. She stretched her arms. “I promise, one day we’ll leave this place. But until that day comes, we’re stuck playing servants to our lovely step-mother”

“Where is my breakfast!?” Avonmora’s demand sounded through the tube that led to the basement where Rose and Charlie were forced to sleep. “Bring it to me now, girl! And boy, you better get to sweeping and finish before we leave for the market”

Honk! “Will someone shut that vile witch up, please?” Honkers got up from his pile of straw that was set up in the corner. “A goose needs his beauty sleep”

Rose giggled. She walked over to Honkers and picked him up. “I suppose all that sleeping you do is the reason you’re the most handsome goose in the entire kingdom” Honkers honked in approval and nuzzled into Rose’s neck. “We should find you a lovely swan one of these days”

“Honkers, look!” Charlie bursted into excitement. He pointed towards Honkers nest where a golden egg lay. “You’ve laid another one!”

“Well, whaddaya know?” Rose put Honkers down. He waddled over to the nest and admired the golden egg he’d lain. “If I keep laying them at this rate, you guys will be able to run off soon enough”

“How do you do that, anyway?” Charlie asked curiously.

“I don’t know” Honk! “Same reason I can talk, I suppose”

Rose pulled out a hidden box that contained all the other golden eggs that Honkers had laid. She picked up the new one and added it to the collection. She then put the box back in it’s hiding spot. 

“Breakfast!” Avonmora screeched. Her voice was so loud that it scared a few feathers out of Honkers.

Rose sighed and grabbed several ingredients out from the cupboards. “Charlie, you better start sweeping. And Honkers, you know to stay quiet when she’s near”

Honkers put his wing up to his forehead in a salute. “Yes, ma’m” Rose gave the goose a look. “Oh, I mean...Honk!...”

Rose smiled and nodded. “Good goose!”

Rose had Avonmora’s breakfast on a tray and she brought it up to her lavish bedroom. When Nathaniel died, Avonmora brought it upon herself to do some renovating on the cottage. But, she had made it so big and added so many unnecessary rooms that it wasn’t the quaint little cottage that Rose loved anymore. It was more like a mansion out in the middle of the forest.

“Ah, there you are” Avonmora sneered from her place in bed. She was sat up in against the headboard. Her pet raven, Draco, was perched upon her shoulder. “You are late with breakfast”

“I’m sorry, Avonmora” Rose apologized quietly. She set the breakfast tray on Avonmora’s bedside table. Draco squaked threateningly at her when she got to close. Rose flinched. She was absolutely terrified of the bird.

“You need to learn to shut the bird of yours up” Avonmora scowled. “It’s honking is becoming unbearable. Perhaps we turn him into a feast” Her lip curled into a smirk at the suggestion of such a lavish feast. Draco cawed in amusement, like he was laughing at the idea.

Rose clenched her jaw. She wanted to talk back to Avonmora but she knew better. “What do you want me to do today, Avonmora?”

“The usual” Avonmora grabbed her teacup and took a sip of the hot beverage. “After the boy is done sweeping, you are going to mop the floors. Then you’re going to wash the windows, dust all the furniture, nooks and crannies, do the dishes, do the laundry, weed my garden, and feed the animals”

“Yes, Avonmora” It was what Rose was programmed to say after receiving her duties from her step-mother. She was just about to walk out the door when Avonmora stopped her.

“Oh, and Rose,” Avonmora’s dark matched perfectly. “Don’t leave this house while the boy and I are out. You know what will happen if I find you gone”

Rose didn’t even look back at her. She just nodded and left the room.

Avonmora and Charlie were gone at the market. Rose was outside in the chicken pen, sprinkling chicken feed all over the ground. The chickens around her clucked happily as they ate of the mix of seeds and corn. The apron on Rose’s dress was dirtied with dirt from the garden, as was her face. But that didn’t detract from her beauty.

At least the hunter that was watching from behind a tree didn’t think so. Harry was out for his morning hunt along with his best friend/sidekick/minion, Louis. Louis himself wasn’t much of a hunter. He basically just carried any game that Harry had managed to successfully kill. 

“Look at her, Louis” Harry said, his eyes never once coming off of Rose. The poor girl had no idea that she was being watched. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Who?” Louis’ nasally voice screeched. “That dirty girl over there?”

“She is not dirty!” Harry hissed defensively. “She is going to be my wife someday and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about her in such a manner”

Louis began to laugh. “Your wife!? Her!? Every girl in Sweetstown basically throw themselves at your feet! Why would you want some nobody who lives out in the forest?”

“Because, none of those girls have a beauty that compares to hers. It’s only fair that the most beautiful girl in Candania marries me, the most handsome man in Candania”

“Don’t forget smartest and strongest!” Louis always was a suck-up when it came to Harry.

Harry laughed triumphantly. “Yes, that too” He got off his horse and smoothed out his clothes. He also picked the closest flower he could find. He wanted to make a good impression on the girl. “I think it’s time that I introduce myself to the mother of my future children”

Rose was humming a song, but she was interrupted when a voice spoke from behind her. “Hello, fair maiden” She jumped and turned around to see who it was. It was a man she had never seen before. He was tall and no doubt handsome, with his dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. But Rose could tell he radiated arrogance. 

“Hello” she greeted back softly.

“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing out here in the forest?” the man asked.

“I live here” Rose pointed at the cottage. “With my brother and my step-mother”

“I see” the man said. Rose gave him a small smile, and she thought he was just going to walk off and continue on his way. She wasn’t expecting him to step over the fence of the pen. “My name is Harry” 

Harry. That name sounded familiar to Rose. Priscilla was always talking about a Harry to Rose. Maybe this was the one she was talking about.

“I’m Rose”

“Rose” Harry repeated her name like a prayer. “Such a lovely name to go with such a beautiful face” He took her hand and brought it up to his lips. He gently kissed her knuckles. “You know, I’ve admired you for quite some time now”

Rose went wide eyed. “Y-you have?”

“Yes” Harry spoke so deeply, it came out as a growl. There was no denying the possessive intention behind it. He began walking towards Rose, like a predator hunting its prey. For every step forward Harry took, Rose took a step back. That is, until she was backed up against the wall. “It’s hard for a man not to be entranced by your beauty”

Rose swallowed nervously. “T-thank you”

“I brought this for you” Harry held up the flower that he had picked. Rose recognized the white, waxy flower as a gardenia. Sure, it was a pretty flower but it wasn’t Rose’s favorite. 

“Thank you, but I’m not a big admirer of gardenias”

“Oh” Harry’s face fell. He dropped the flower and stomped on it. Rose frowed. Sure, she wasn’t too fond of gardenias but that didn’t mean the flower didn’t deserve to be treated in such a way. “Well, what is your favorite flower? For when I come see you tomorrow?”

Rose blinked. “Tomorrow?”

“Of course” Harry grinned at her with a charming smile. “And the day after that, then the day after that, and so on, and so forth” He grabbed her hand. “So tell me, sweet maiden, what is your favorite flower?”

All Rose could do was smile. “I’ll let you figure that one out” She didn’t want to seem rude by telling him to get lost, and she didn’t want to reveal what her favorite flower actually was. 

“Turning this into a game, are we?” Harry suggested. “Alright, I’ll play your game. I’ll come and visit everyday, and I’ll bring you a different flower. When I do bring you your favorite flower, then you must join me for a romantic nightly stroll in the town”

“I suppose that seems fair...” 

“Until tomorrow then, my sweet” Harry kissed Rose’s hand yet again. When Harry finally left, Rose felt a sense of relief. 

What had she gotten herself into with this man? She’d have to ask Priscilla about him. 

“Rose, who was that?” It was Honkers who had asked. He came waddling into the chicken pen.

“I don’t know, Honkers, but I have a feeling I’ll be seeing more of him than I wish to” Rose sighed dreadfully. She could never see herself being with a man like that. She picked up her straw basket. “Come Honkers, let’s go see Fiona, Liona, and Briona. I’m in the mood for some cherry picking”

Honkers ruffled his feathers in excitement. “Lead the way, Rose!”

Rose and Honkers made their way to the sisters’ cottage. It was the only other cottage in the forest. Rose wasn’t sure what it was about their home, but she always felt safest there. It was like she had known Fiona, Liona, and Briona for her whole life, even though she met when she stumbled upon their marvelous cherry tree when she was just fifteen years of age.

Perhaps the three sisters could give Rose some advice about this man and his unwanted attention.

[blackhavilliard]

Modern Manorian AU - Royals Magazine - Feature: Dorian Havilliard

And Dorian’s feaure is finally here! Hope you all enjoy it. Manon’s feature is coming afterwards and I’m soooo excited for that ;D

Includes full interview under the cut. Read on AO3 here.

Tagging: @rufousnmacska​, @heir2chaos​ and @gimmedafood​ (to say thank you for your comment!) Let me know if you want to be included or you can also subscribe on AO3 too :)

In the midst of a geopolitical crisis that had threatened the existence of the realm of Erilea stood a young king bent, broken but unbowed as he raced against time to thwart the enemy that has long kept his father's kingdom and now his own in its shadows. Now, years after the passing of the storm, King Dorian Havilliard II finds himself in reflection of the years lost and the years found as he governs Adarlan in stride.

Since the first appearance of the then heir apparent on the tabloids of the Rifthold Journal in a splendid attire fit for the handsome royal, it was a lascivious rumour of the young prince’s escapades inside the glass palace that permanently marked Dorian as that of an aristocratic hedonist whose existence lived off the extravagance and luxuries of the wealthy, knowing that he could absolutely get away with it.

While Dorian played the game of pomp and distraction amongst celebrity A-listers, prime ministers, and the one percent, a sinister plot by political conspirators had slowly been brewing – the overthrow of the Havilliard bloodline that has governed Adarlan for a thousand generations.

In the highest tower of Rifthold Palace is where Dorian prefers to spend his time perched on a deep-red velvet armchair sipping on a cold glass of what looked to be a fruity beverage as he pores over the latest fiction novel – a pleasure he shares with his dear friend, Queen Aelin of Terrasen. Their shared bookshelf, The Royal Fleetfoot Bookclub (named after Aelin’s beloved golden retriever, a present from the king one Yulemas) is Erilea’s most popular Book Club. And decidedly so.

Dorian’s misplaced faith on his father, then King Dorian Havilliard I, had been his constant companion after his untimely death that led to Dorian’s premature appointment as sovereign. But as the war raged on between the countries of Erilea, the formalities accustomed to a monarch were lost, which ultimately led to Dorian’s displacement from Adarlan. The young king was lost, angry, and untethered as he navigated the political landscape alongside his powerful friends: Queen Aelin of Terrasen, Lord Rowan of Doranelle, Queen Manon of the Wastes, and his closest friend and confidante, Lord Westfall, whom he sent as an envoy to the Khaganate in the Southern Continent. Dorian became known as The King Without a Crown.

Dorian ushers me to a leathered couch next to an occasional table where he pours a cup of brewed tea. He asks if I’d be interested in something stronger and I decline. He winks, a promise of our eventual liquored celebration after the successful sit-down.

King Dorian is charming, refined and a proud intellectual with a taste of an epicurean. Delegates from all over Erilea would comment on the king’s graceful charisma as he fulfilled his role of a sovereign in all its stringent social specifications. It’s as if the dark years of his early adulthood never existed when you’re in his presence. Dorian is adored by the masses and the politicians alike, and it isn’t hard to see why.

While we share a few niceties – he’s become quite a dear friend over the years – you can’t miss the way his sapphire eyes would steal longing glances out the open balcony. One can observe that it overlooks Rifthold Palace’s private airstrip, and soon everything makes more sense.

King Dorian’s wife Queen Manon Blackbeak rules from her kingdom in the Western Wastes, a two-hour plane ride from the Adarlan capital. After settling into their roles as respective monarchs of their kingdoms, the pair continued their relationship, much to delight of the common people, who were far too enamoured by their relationship for it to be considered healthy. No surprises there though. They’re really that pairing that’s pretty much straight out of a YA fantasy novel with their unbelievable good looks, seemingly opposite yet highly complementary personalities and the kind of sexual tension you could only dream of.

Nonetheless, despite the distance and their responsibilities, no one can deny just how smitten the king is of his wife. He assures me, in his usual playful charm, that she’s most likely missing him more than he is. I laugh. Even he doesn’t believe his own lie.

He makes himself comfortable, draping his suit jacket on the back of his armchair as he settles down and shows off his polished Derbys almost as if he’d like to take them off.

LYSANDRA: Should we both take our shoes off? I think we should both take our shoes off.

DORIAN: I thought you’d never ask!

LYSANDRA: I may not be born royal, Your Majesty, but I do know when someone just wants to let loose.

DORIAN: Gods, I want to let loose all the time. Do you think they’ll conspire against me if I do?

LYSANDRA: Judging from your friends in all the high and right places, I’d say there’s a higher chance of Aelin breathing ice than that happening. And even if they tried, I’m sure no one would get past Manon Blackbeak’s wrath.

DORIAN: She’s terrifying, isn’t she?

LYSANDRA: You don’t sound scared of the fact.

DORIAN: Are you scared of your husband, Lady Lysandra?

LYSANDRA: He’s a soft little mushy bear.

DORIAN: Exactly my description of Manon.

LYSANDRA: I really have to ask – for me, for Rowan and for your rabid fans. How did you convince the High Queen of the Witches to get married? Was it ever in the books for you two?

DORIAN: It wasn’t so much as my convincing her as her convincing me.

LYSANDRA: Oh, please.

DORIAN: You’d be surprised to know that she asked me to marry her first. Of course, it was all political expedience at that time coupled with a reasonable amount of care and affection.

LYSANDRA: And you said no?

DORIAN: Not technically.

LYSANDRA: So… technically yes?

DORIAN: I was drunk on self-loathing. I didn’t think I deserved her.

LYSANDRA: Doesn’t love usually overcome these sorts of things?

DORIAN: To some extent. We were at the climax of the war and we both needed to make important decisions for ourselves, for both our kingdoms and for the future we desperately wanted to have. It wasn’t the right time.

LYSANDRA: But you wanted to say yes to her, didn’t you?

DORIAN: Desperately.

LYSANDRA: If it helps, I was really rooting for you both.

DORIAN: So was I.

LYSANDRA: You know, I admit this is quite a treat being your very own interrogator.

DORIAN: Our plans to make Aelin jealous are succeeding.

LYSANDRA: Oh, she'll definitely be furious.

DORIAN: I've always admired her fiery rage. Despite it being extremely dangerous to those unfortunate enough to be close in range.

LYSANDRA: I've had my share of that.

DORIAN: I think we all have.

LYSANDRA: Tell us about Adarlan's relations with Terrasen. Even better, tell us about yours and Queen Aelin's.

DORIAN: It's tabloid worthy.

LYSANDRA: I'm not saying I've read all about it...

DORIAN: I met Celaena first before I met Aelin. And in some ways Aelin also met some counterpart of myself all those years ago. We were young and generally when you’re that young, you’re also that stupid.

LYSANDRA: But isn't it just a perfect time to make mistakes?

DORIAN: Not for a prince. Though, I did not care at that time. Sometimes I still think I don’t. But you want to know about Aelin. One thing, you see her more than I do, and I admit, it does break my heart.

LYSANDRA: Technology helps though, doesn’t it? I can’t remember how many times I’ve interrupted one of your virtual repartees.

DORIAN: She can get quite heated in our discussions. Especially if she has to wait a year or more for the next instalment of a book series.

LYSANDRA: What makes the great King Dorian Havilliard furiously out of element?

DORIAN: The monarchy.

LYSANDRA: Do you ever think back on the good old days?

DORIAN: Mm.

LYSANDRA: What did that consist of for you?

DORIAN: Well, I don’t know if I could really call it the good old days. As heir, I wasted away on frivolity and debauchery. Chaol once remarked on my depravity, and I could have resented him if it hadn’t opened my eyes to the truth.

LYSANDRA: Well, that’s an insight. I noticed the construction of the new palace has been coming along nicely.

DORIAN: It is.

LYSANDRA: The Glass Palace once stood as a symbol of Adarlan’s wealth and power. Now, you’ve opted to modernise the construction except for the addition of the thirteen towers.

DORIAN: The Rifthold Journal has been nagging me about their meaning since the blueprints were made public. They’re relentless.

LYSANDRA: I don’t want to be that friend but I’m dying to know…thirteen? Really?

DORIAN: You caught me.

LYSANDRA: Gods, I knew it. Rowan will have a fit.

DORIAN: As much as I’d like to take credit for being a Royal Romeo (but feel free to use that from now on), they each symbolise an iteration of hope, love and life. Every single one of them deserves their own monument.

LYSANDRA: What a beautiful gesture, Your Majesty. And it’s true. I will never forget them.

DORIAN: Sobering thought for a Yulemas special, isn’t it?

LYSANDRA: More like a winter exclusive, so we’re good there. But speaking of, I do have a serious bone to pick with you, Your Majesty.

DORIAN: Don’t tell me it’s the time I coerced you and Aedion to go on that Giant Swing when we were in Terrasen, is it? If I remembered correctly, you really enjoyed that.

LYSANDRA: We almost died!

DORIAN: And that makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?

LYSANDRA: You’d be surprised at how many people who don’t think of near-death experiences as something exciting.

DORIAN: [laughs] Am I that cruel?

LYSANDRA: Remember that snow leopard bobble head I once gifted you for Yulemas? Remind me again what you did to it, Your Majesty?

DORIAN: It was godsdamned terrifying, Lysandra. Why are the eyes glowing? Why are they glowing green!

LYSANDRA: That was the whole point of Bad Yulemas!

DORIAN: Manon fished it out of the trash anyway. She has it on my side of the bed at the Wastes. Should I be concerned with this friendship?

LYSANDRA: You and Aedion are lucky bastards, Your Majesty.

DORIAN: Touché

Lysandra Ennar is the Lady of Caraverre and the editor for ROYALS magazine.

~

MANON: I don't think this will go well.

DORIAN: You think? I really had to charm my way to do this, you know.

MANON: You charm your way out of everything.

DORIAN: And into things too.

MANON: Your favourite past time.

DORIAN: Are you angry? Here, let me compliment you.

MANON: Dorian...

DORIAN: Witchling.

A sneak peek of the Royals Spring Issue featuring Queen Manon Blackbeak and interviewd by King Dorian Havilliard.

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

TIMELESS

This fic is for @katie-my-lady​ (imma send this to her since tumblr is trash and won’t let me tag her)

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!  Here’s your special WonderTrev Secret Santa fic!  I hope you enjoy feel free to ask if you want me to DM it to you or invite you to the GoogleDoc! Also i really love your blog, I’m so glad I was matched with you and I hope we can become friends!

Steve Trevor x Diana Prince

Word count: 1687

Summary: Steve and Diana show their love in many various ways, some more unconventional than others.

Warnings: This jumps around a timeline and is a little of an AU?  Like, Steve and Diana live happily ever after and nothing bad ever happened to them.

1983

Diana thanked the vendor as she grabbed her sundae and Steve’s milkshake from the counter and walking to their little table by the window. “Strawberry, with two Oreos on top, just how you like it,” she grinned, setting the glass cup in front of him.

Steve gave her a quizzical look. “I’ve never had an Oreo before,” he said, ripping the paper wrapping off his thick straw, “how could that be ‘just how I like it’?”.

A little smirk of pride crept onto Diana’s lips. “Try it…” she said, nodding her head at the little cookie. She knew what she was doing.

He tilted his head, chuckling. This was ridiculous, but he trusted her. He took the cookie in between his fingers, licking the bit of whipped cream off of it before shoving the whole thing in his mouth. His eyes went wide as the sweet flavor touched his taste buds. “Holy shit…” he mumbled through his full mouth.

“I know, right?” she giggled, watching his reaction as she took a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

“You’re always right,” he nodded, taking the other cookie, also eating it on one bite.

“Do you want me to get you more?” she laughed, wiping some stray crumbs off his lip with the pad of her thumb.

“Yes please,” he nodded, mouth still food.

 1918

Steve smiled as Diana rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping his arm around her broad shoulders. “What’s that one?” he asked, pointing to a particularly bright spot in the night sky.

“That one is actually Mars, named after the Roman god of war,” Diana answered, staring at the little dot, “you can tell it’s not a star because it doesn’t sparkle, like the other ones,”. She loved little moments like this; cool summer nights, exploring the skies with the love of her life.

“I know who Mars is… he almost killed me,” Steve chuckled, still in disbelief that he survived that whole debacle. He lifted his gaze back up to the stars, amazed as he watched a comet fly across the atmosphere. “Diana! Look! Make a wish!” he beamed, squeezing her closer in excitement.

She watched it disappear into the darkness very confused. “What?” she asked, “wish? Why? It’s a star…”.

His face fell into an expression of slight disappointment. “It’s a shooting star, you don’t see those every day…” he explained, pointing up to where the star blazed its path, “when you see one, you close your eyes and make a wish,”.

“Oh,” she hummed, liking the whimsical concept. Diana looked back up at the sky, closing her eyes gently. her eyelashes grazed her cheeks as she made her wish. She opened them again, the moonlight highlighting her brown eyes. “It didn’t work,” she frowned, looking at Steve for an explanation.

“Well what did you wish for?” he asked, giggling as he kissed her nose playfully.

A smile broke out on Diana’s illuminated face. She settled back into her comfortable position, tucked into his side. “Nevermind, it worked,” she sighed.

“What? What did you wish?” Steve asked, a bit confused, but mostly curious.

“You kissed me,”

1985

Things were very different in this time. Fashion, politics… but the one thing Steve was glad hadn’t changed was art. Sure, style and medium had changed, but he was glad art was still important to people. Steve sat on the bench in front of the Mona Lisa, simply staring at it. Even though it was almost closing time, there were still a handful of people in the museum adoring the piece and taking pictures. But, to be honest, Steve didn’t even notice they were there.

Almost every day Steve would come into the Louvre an hour before closing. At first it was so he could walk home with Diana after she was done with work, but after a few weeks, he’d come early just to look at the art. He’d wander around for hours, lost in the peace and quiet of his thoughts. He loved all the art, but his favorite, of course, was Lisa. It was such a surreal feeling to think he was in the physical presence of a piece of history.

“Visiting your friend again?” Diana asked, startling Steve out of his trance.

“Oh! Hi… uh… y-yeah…” he nodded, giving her an adorable half-smile as his cheeks turned red. He grabbed his wallet off the bench and shoved it in his pocket as he stood up, “I swear I’ve seen her twenty million times, but I never get tired of her,” he said, turning back to get one last look at the canvas.

“I should let you see my office sometime,” Diana hummed, holding his hand as she took in the mastery of the painting, “you’d be amazed by everything I have on display in there,”.

Steve gave a little chuckle, slipping on his jacket. “I’m afraid I’d get distracted by one masterpiece, as I usually do,” he said, looking into her eyes with that special look.

Diana caught his drift, shaking her head at the dumb pick-up line. “You’re awful,” she chuckled, walking towards the exit.

“Who said I was referring to you?” Steve said sarcastically, unable to keep from laughing.

With a dramatic eye roll, Diana playfully shoved his shoulder, “let’s go home, you dork,”.

1919

The sun beamed down on the shores of Themyscira, the crystal blue waves crashing gently on the shore. Steve laid on the sand, wearing nothing but a cotton tunic, letting the warmth soak into his skin. The cool water touched his toes, making him stir from his catnap.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Diana grinned, kissing his head as she returned with a tray of fruit and wine.

“I never want to move,” he grinned, flipping onto his back, “I just want to stay here with you forever,”.

She grinned, kissing his head and brushing the stray hairs out of his face. “Well you’ll have to come inside eventually, even if I have to carry you inside,” she said, sitting beside him, shifting her white dress around her legs.

“Ooh! Will you?” he grinned, sitting up. Steve liked to think of himself as very masculine, but his one weakness was being carried by and piggyback rides from Diana.

Diana laughed as he kissed her knuckles, making her blush a little bit. “Yes, I can do that,” she promised, “as long as you actually go to bed tonight! You’re not keeping me up ‘til sunrise again,”.

“Oh, like you didn’t like it,” he winked, seductively placing a hand on her strong thigh, leaning closer to kiss her lips.

“Oh don’t start again, I need sleep!” she giggled, playfully pushing him away, “I’m part of the royal family, I have a lot of responsibilities, responsibilities that require SLEEP,”.

He rolled his eyes sarcastically, kissing her cheek before grabbing a fresh peach. “Sure, sure,” nodded, smiling and lying back down on the sand, “but after you’re done with your ‘responsibilities’, you can come to me for… ‘stress relief’,”.

Diana just flicked a grape at his head, making him laugh.

1980

“Say ‘cheese!’” Steve grinned, focusing the camera on Diana as she stood in front of the Eiffel tower. She gave a professional smile, sitting up straight. “Aw, c’mon Diana, give me a big smile!” he teased, adjusting the film to get ready to take another.

“I don’t have to listen to you,” she joked, grinning as she tried to smile bigger, the wind blowing her hair into her face, the locks getting stuck in her lipstick.

Steve thought for a moment, getting an idea. “Hey Diana!” he called.

“Hm?” she answered, pulling her hair back, confused about what he was doing. 

“Are you France? Because Eiffel for you!” he grinned, hoping that’d make her laugh.

She just rolled her eyes. “That was terrible,” she giggled, hissing through her teeth like a silly snake.

“Are you a thief? Because you’ve stolen my heart!” he called, his smile getting wider as his brain kept coming up with terrible puns.

“Steve,” she called, not sure if she could handle such bad humor, “honey, I love you, but you’re not that funny,”.

“One more, one more! I know I can make you laugh!” he called, getting ready to snap a picture of her reaction. This had to be a good one. “Are you a beaver? Because DAAAAAMN!” he said, holding his breath as he waited for her to react.

Diana stood there, her lips set in a straight line. Steve had thought he had failed until he heard her chortle. She showed off her pretty smile, laughing out loud at the horrendous pick-up line.

Steve quickly snapped a picture before going up to her. “Am I funny now?” he asked, pecking her lips.

“No, but that was so bad I had to laugh,” she sniffed, catching her breath.

1921

It was quiet. It was dark. All you could hear was the calming sounds of rain and thunder as the moonlit up the small London apartment. Steve laid on his stomach beside Diana, the light coming through the window highlighting his face.

Diana was sleeping beside him, a hand laid on his bare back as she shifted closer. Neither of them was awake, but they felt each other’s presence; they were drawn to it. They could each sense their warmth and hear their soft breathing.

They could feel when the other was having a nightmare and hold them closer, they could feet when the other was cold and cuddle up to them, it was like their brain waves were connected.

Steve shuffled closer to his wife, resting his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. That always soothed him, it was like music, a song of her life.

Diana shifted, wrapping her arms around him, kissing his head in her sleep before settling back into slumber.

Each of their souls reached out to one another, intertwining in an ethereal “I love you,”. Truly, they were made for each other, crafted by the gods to fit each other perfectly. Little did they know, their love was eternal, written in the stars

[sevenincubistolemyheart]

Black Ties, White Lies- Taehyung’s Oneshot

A/N: SURPRISE!! Finished editing a little earlier than I thought...have at it my princes and princesses~

Au: Mafia

Tag List: @xsunnyhoseokx  @wilhelminalucinda  @amiraclerenee @inutiledediscuter

Rating: T

Potential Triggers: Nothing too serious in this one, especially compared to prior chapters. Weapons are seen, the tiniest amount of blood ever. Let me know if I’m missing anything but I’m pretty sure that’s it. 

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x reader

Genre: Drama, Crime, Angst, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort

Length: 3k+

You blinked your eyes sleepily, yawning as you came to and wincing at the bright light that blinded you when you tried to embrace the day. Finally, your eyes adjusted and you realized with a start you were restrained to a wooden chair, the unkind bark biting into your skin.

You felt fear begin to fill you and looked around, quickly taking in your surroundings as you tried to make sense of what had happened. Had you been kidnapped? You hadn't done anything last night, just sleeping in your and Yoongi's bed as usual. What if they couldn't find you? Or worse, thought you'd run away and didn't search for you at all? 

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down and think rationally but just as you went to exhale a voice from behind your chair startled you.

"If you panicked like that in a real kidnapping, you'd already be at a huge disadvantage to escaping."

You never thought you'd be so relieved to hear Taehyung's confident voice. 

He walked around so you could see him fully. You were still in your pajamas; a silk t-shirt and shorts and were getting cold from the air conditioner; causing you to start to shiver a bit.  

He smirked.

"Cold? Good. It'll urge you to escape faster. I'll be teaching you how to escape a situation like this should you ever be kidnapped." 

He grumbled under his breath as he grabbed a 

simple looking bracelet and latched it onto your wrist easily, nimble fingers locking it in place; surprisingly not too tight as you thought he'd make it. 

"I wanted to teach you how to torture others but apparently that's "too intense' for you and Yoongi is already planning to help you withstand torture so I'll be teaching you how to escape should you ever get taken." His eyes flickered and he sighed.  

"Shit, don't tell him I told you that.  Forgot we were supposed to keep what we were planning to teach you a secret till the day of."

You highly doubted that given he'd used the element of surprise himself today but opted not to comment on it.

He stood up straight, pointing to the bracelet he'd put on you.  "Never take that off. It could quite literally save your life."

You raised a disbelieving eyebrow and he sighed, rolling his eyes.  

"I'll show you. Press down as hard as you can on the bottom of the bracelet."

You hesitated, but did as instructed, pressing the metal into the coarse wood before you flinched slightly at the metallic sound of a blade suddenly popping out, though it was tiny.  

"Since your wrists are smaller than most people they'll be interrogating, you'll have a bit of movement, even with the braces tightened all the way as they are currently.  That's your opening."

"Now, escape. I'll be timing you. Get out within 2 hours or you'll face interrogation."

Your heart leaped in fear. 

"I thought you just said you couldn't torture me!"

Taehyung looked over his shoulder and smiled smugly, not responding with anything but the click of the door sliding shut.  

You pushed your panic aside and huffed, looking at your bound wrist and beginning to move your wrist back and forth the small bit you could. The hidden blade barely made much difference as far as you could tell but you kept it up, a cool, steely resolve replacing your fear as you continue, no matter how tired you became.  

No matter how much you loathed Taehyung, he was more skilled than you, and this really could save your life. You may as well learn all you could, especially since it was for your own benefit.  

When you were about halfway through, the door suddenly slammed open and you pressed up, rather than down as you'd discovered while accidentally pushing too hard to cut that doing so would once again hide the blade.  

Your face was stoic as Jungkook and Namjoon entered, though inwardly you were surprised. Namjoon observed you from afar while Jungkook got in your face, clearly trying to intimidate you. 

You merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

"...I thought we were waiting on torture? Taehyung's already training me today."

Jungkook scoffed. 

"You think this is torture?"

You smiled sweetly.  

"I'm looking at your face, aren't I?"

His eyes sparked with anger before Namjoon snarled. 

"Jungkook! Enough."

He waited for the boy to step back before he met your eyes. 

"Taehyung wanted to test you. To see if you could think fast under such pressure and hide the blade in time. Luckily, you succeeded. Since I bet on you...I get to reward you."

He stepped forward, cutting through the ropes easily with his own knife. 

You rubbed your slightly chafed wrists and looked at him curiously. "But...the whole point of escape training is to learn how to escape on my own, no? Doesn't letting me free kinda make the whole lesson mute?"

Jungkook stepped forward with a smirk. 

"I'm more than happy to tie you up again if you'd like sweetheart."

You nimbly hopped away on instinct while Namjoon merely shook his head and sighed. 

"You two need to learn to get along at some point. Taehyung too. This is already beyond exhausting."

You scoffed at that. 

"How do you think I feel? Not my fault they both like to target me for no reason." 

Jungkook growled attempting to step forward though Namjoon held a hand out, a wordless order to back off. His eyes flicked to you as he seemed to be contemplating his words carefully. 

"It certainly doesn't help when you provoke them."

You shrugged, grumbling under your breath.

"I'll still heal their wounds when they're injured won't I?"

Namjoon could only sigh. Why had he let you join again? He rolled his shoulders and raised his chin towards the door in a silent order to leave. 

"...Go find Taehyung. He's waiting for you in the front yard." 

Your eyes lit up at that. You were going outside? You hadn't gotten the chance to ever since you'd entered the house really so you were looking forward to it, even if it was with Taehyung. 

You nodded, bowing quickly to the two before all but running out; the promise of fresh air too enticing to wait any longer. You exited through the front exit, only to yelp as you were pulled against a built chest by an arm around your neck. 

"That was quick. I suppose Namjoon won the bet then? Aish, I told him cutting you loose was too nice but he is our leader after all. He gets a pass.” 

You squirmed in his grip but he only tightened his arm a bit; making you panic slightly as you feel your air supply decrease. 

A cleared throat and a strong arm suddenly pulling your forward made him release you and you coughed and panted as you recovered your lost oxygen, eyes briefly flicking up to observe your savior as he released his firm grip on your bicep. 

Jungkook snorted at your state but his gaze quickly turned back to Taehyung, head tilted in a predatory manner as his lips twitched in amusement. 

“Careful hm? I’ll need her in one piece for when I train her.”

Taehyung’s gaze narrowed and a low growl escaped him at the lack of respect and his warning both. 

“Watch your mouth makane. I know what I’m doing. I’ve been here longer than you- don’t try and talk down to me.” 

His voice had lowered an octave ringing with his own clear warning as you looked between the two. 

Just as you opened your mouth to say something and hopefully put a stop to their uncomfortable glaring contest; a cheerful voice interrupted before you could.

“Jungkook-ah! C’mon don’t you want to train?” 

Jimin's appearance caused a gleeful grin to overtake your face before you forced yourself to smile gently instead so the other two wouldn't see how excited you were to see him. 

Jungkook grumbled under his breath but reluctantly let Jimin toss an arm around his shoulder and start tugging him away. He snuck a wink your way when Taehyung wasn't looking making your cheeks warm. 

Taehyung rolled his eyes at the brief distraction but turned his attention back to you once the two had left. 

"As I was saying…you're going to need to do more than escape your bonds. You're going to need to escape the building. I want you to try and escape our compound. I'm giving you 20 minutes. I'll be in pursuit of you and guards have been stationed around to watch for you."

He gave you a cheeky smirk. 

"Good luck kitten. You're gonna need it."

He pointed towards a metal gate leading to the back. 

"I'd start running if I were you. I'll only be waiting 5 minutes before coming for you because that's all the time you'll have before your escape has been noticed."

You didn’t need any further prompting and bolted; your adrenaline continuing to drive you forward even as your legs and lungs burned. You abruptly came to a stop at the sight of 2 guards; covering your mouth to muffle your panting from exertion. Your eyes widened as you spotted a third guard coming around the corner and thought fast as you threw yourself into the bush next to you; crouching down and trying to slow your breathing.

You could hear your heart beating in your ears as you watched a pair of legs stop in front of your bush; looking around briefly before continuing on. 

You didn’t leave for a full minute though, even though your paranoia of Taehyung catching up to you was begging you to just run for it. You knew you needed to be strategic to make it out of this. You had no doubt that Taehyung was counting on you acting irrationally out of fear. 

You slowly exited the shrubbery being wary of your surroundings as your eyes darted around until they lit up at the sight of the exit. You were still cautious as you made your way there being as stealthy as possible. You made it through grinning happily as you turned to look up back at your makeshift prison.

Only to be roughly tackled to the ground as you were blindsided. You gasped for breath as you tussled with the much taller and stronger individual frantically trying to fight them off to the best of your ability as you grasped at the dirt and rubble by your palms and threw it in their face as a distraction. They still didn’t release you though, resolutely keeping a tight hold on you as they subdued you by pushing your hands behind your back and your face into the dirt. 

"...Final lesson. Even once you escape your attackers- you're never truly safe. They will always be there, waiting for you to give them a chance to get revenge. Us kidnappers don't like being outsmarted."

With that Taehyung released you leaving you to sit up and rub your wrists with a pout. 

He snickered at your expression.

"Oh relax. I could've had you in a much more painful pin. Be thankful I went easy on you. Our enemies won't."

With one last look over his shoulder, he rolled his eyes at your lack of response and walked over, dragging you back to your feet as he pulled you back into the compound. Or tried to as you gripped the wall and you spoke up. 

"W-Wait!"

He looked back at you expectantly and you steeled yourself as you asked. 

"...This is the first time I've been out here since I joined. Can't we just explore for a bit?"

He looked at you blankly for several seconds before he looked around with a huff. 

"I suppose surveying the terrain will be good for you. Should you ever be kidnapped you should be able to differentiate between our insignias and know what safe areas there are for you; as well as having an advantage on the enemy."

You tried to hold back your excitement but he rolled his eyes as he saw the sparkle in your eyes.

“Don’t get too excited. It’ll only be for a little while. Come with me; I have to get my other weapons, and I want to give you a knife as well; just in case we get separated. This city may seem quiet and nice but we’re still going through turf wars with the GOT7 faction and EXO family.”

“How come?” 

Your innocent question actually made Taehyung stop in his tracks just as you were about to reenter the mansion. He was quiet for several moments. 

“...For reasons you aren’t ready to hear yet.”

He finally mumbled before holding open his door and motioning you inside after him. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it honestly wasn’t too unlike Hoseok’s or Yoongi’s room. 

It has a simple color scheme, mainly with wood and burgundy being his colors of choice along with splashes of black. 

On his black bedside table sat several knives of varying sizes. He picked up one, feeling the point and nodded in satisfaction when it caused blood to bead at the tip of his index finger, licking it away as he turned to you and offered the knife after closing it. 

"Here. It's sharp enough that even someone with no skills should be able to cause enough damage to be lethal if necessary. I doubt it'll come to that, but you should have a weapon on you just as well whenever you leave the house."

He turned back to the small black dresser and crouched to open the drawer just beneath the knives, making your stomach flip at the assortment of sinister-looking weapons. Torture implements no doubt. The bottle of chloroform (thank God for Hoseok) and rag you noticed just behind the knives suddenly made you anxious again. 

Despite his matter of fact approach to training you today you had to admit...a part of you was still petrified of him and what he was capable of. 

"There. I'm ready to go now. Just needed to add a few more weapons just in case we're ambushed."

He called to you, having slipped a smaller gun in his shoe and a larger knife of his own into his pants when you'd been distracted in addition to his typical gun holster. 

You nodded and the two of you left swiftly afterward. 

You were still excited to be in the fresh air but seeing all the weapons had definitely not been comforting. 

You made your way outside the mansion, Taehyung leading the way through shortcuts you never would've thought of and stopped in front of a carved insignia. Two wings breaking out at the top of a circle. 

"That's our symbol. When you see it, it means you're in our territory. Any guards or even people we have undercover are under our jurisdiction. If you ever do get kidnapped but manage to escape and find one of these, stay out of sight until you see someone with a tattoo with this symbol or one of us obviously."

"What about the patches? Too easily faked?"

You inquired, talking about the several guards you'd seen wearing simple black bands with silver engravings of the symbol. 

"Yeah, exactly. Good to see you're actually learning and paying attention. Mine is here if you're curious."

He pulled down his shirt slightly to reveal the marking on the left side of his collarbone with the same color scheme, though his wings were fully colored in with the metallic silver whereas the circle kept the same simple outline. 

No doubt to show he was one of the leaders. 

"Huh. Do...do I need to get one of those?"

You wondered, having never gotten a tattoo before; you wondered if you could stand the pain. 

He chuckled and ruffled your hair. 

"Maybe after you've earned it newbie. Now c'mon; I've still got to show you the other two family's crests."

-----

It was a long day of walking and talking over shortcuts and what you should do to trick your pursuers as well as an informative one. 

He was oddly quiet about the other 2 groups though and would change the subject to other things or accuse you of not paying attention to his teachings when you tried to continue asking. 

It was weird seeing him so calm and put together. Sure, he’d always been meticulous and crafty but you’d never pegged him for a logical type as you’d found him to be today. He was smarter than you gave him credit for. 

You returned home after many hours of roaming and he dropped you off at Yoongi’s room. You went to knock only to look up in surprise as Taehyung grabbed your wrist to stop you; making you freeze. 

“Hey wait-”

‘Was he going to hurt you again?’ 

Your fear must’ve become apparent to him because he dropped your wrist like he’d been burned and took several steps back; cutting his words off and looking unusually pained. 

His eyes met yours as he shrugged; closing himself off as if the slip-up had never happened. 

“...Forget about it. I’m sure Yoongi is waiting for you.” 

With that he went to leave but your curiosity was piqued and it was your turn to reach out to him, catching his sleeve gently between your fingers. 

“Please. Tell me what it is you were going to say?”

Your voice was soft; gentle even and it made him pause. 

He hesitated before turning to look over his shoulder and you were even more taken aback to see the shame in his eyes; the agony. 

“...Let go before I make you.”

His voice was barely above a whisper despite the threat and you felt your heart cry out for him despite all that had happened. Who was this man standing before you?

“Taehyung…”

You went to step forward to comfort him but he suddenly jerked his sleeve away from you and shook his head; as if awakening himself from a daze. 

He risked one last glance at you; expression unreadable and then simply walked away leaving you more confused than ever.

-----

A/N: Welp there you have it! I hope you guys enjoyed it as I got pretty into this one!! Please do let me know what you thought as always...you know I love it when you talk theories and ish to me!

Love you all! 

[adrrianraines]

choose me.

—chapter i. | chapter ii. | chapter iii.

genre: romance

fandom: playchoices: the royal romance

pairing: LiamxMC (Riley Brooks)

disclaimer:

characters used are owned rightfully by pixelberry. all rights reserved. this is a trr UA (universe alteration) original idea storyline. unlike an AU or Alternate Universe, Universe Alterations or UAs are set in the canon universe, but with "alterations" to accommodate the plot.

grammatical errors, misspellings & typographical errors that i might have overlooked are to be expected. – thank u for doing the proofreading with me, @bi-cookie 😘 really appreciate it. as always, special thanks love. ♡

taglist:

– of course, hmu if u wanna be tagged for an update! lovely people who wanna be tagged in this mess, thank you! ✨

@miss-raleigh-carrera @sunandlemons @wolfychoices @juminssi @onomatorina @ao719 @vaticanwaltz @texaskitten30 @princess-geek @janezillow @cordoniaqueensworld

Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker? — Garth Nix, Sabriel (Abhorsen, #1)

Breathe. Calm down. Concentrate.

A King would never falter in the face of adversaries. This is a minor setback. You can fix this.

Braving a face, Liam squared his shoulders, eyes fixated upon his reflection in the mirror. He stood still for a few minutes, trying to make sense of what was happening. Not less than 24 hours ago, he was at home, with a lovely pregnant wife, in Valtoria. And now, by some weird phenomena that he couldn’t fathom, he’s back at exactly where he was before he married his wife.

Riley. Somewhere in New York City.

Sighing, his hands made a quick work of his collar and then his jacket before he proceeded to present himself. Apparently, from what he’d gathered so far, he’s at the exact hotel where he and his friends stayed for vacation in America. Upon reaching the bedroom, he was welcomed by the sight of Drake sitting on one of the sofas, hands carelessly maneuvering the remote control in his hand. Maxwell was on the phone making a call just beside the large curtained windows.

Drake turned towards Liam, his scrutinizing gaze carefully studying the other. Liam assured his friend by giving a small and calm smile before clearing his throat to get Maxwell’s attention. Maxwell turned and raised his hand for a thumbs up while ending the call.

“Great! Tariq’s waiting for us downstairs. We’ll hit the restaurant first then tour New York after!” The Beaumont Lord grinned and strode towards the two men. He clapped his hand on Liam’s shoulders and smiled warmly. “I’ll make sure you’ll have the best night of your life, Liam! You’re in for a treat with the great Maxwell Beaumont’s Bachelor Paartttyy Express!”

Liam nodded, still unable to properly process the sudden turn of events. If he wants this figured out, he should gather all clues that would present themselves at his mercy then make use of it to his advantage.

Drake rolled his eyes at the other’s antics before propping himself up. “Guess this is the part where we enthusiastically shout ‘yay’ and hope to have a great time.”

Maxwell feigned an offended gasp. “You’re talking to the greatest entertainment master! Of course you’ll be in for a treat!”

Drake shrugged and moved towards the door. Liam followed silently while trying to recall how his first Bachelor Party went.

He met Riley at a small bar. She was working for that sudden stop they had at his last night in America.

Last Night... Therefore... He has a chance of meeting her tonight!

With a determined resolve, Liam figured a way of how to make sure he meets Riley and recreate the exact same moment of their first encounter. From what he gathered so far, if he was indeed jostled back, he needed to make sure everything played out exactly as what had transpired back then.

He halted, which made the two men stop and turn to look at him in question.

Somehow, they need to really make a stop at her bar. At all costs.

“Maxwell.” Liam’s deep baritone immediately made the other attentive. “I know you’ve got the entire night planned out and I entirely appreciate you for it. But perhaps, we can make a little detour towards a place I want to visit? If the itinerary so graciously allow...”

Drake crossed his arms, interested on how this could be handled. Clearly, he knew that Liam was not the one who would continually insist if the plan didn’t involve a certain matter at hand — considering how Maxwell behaves with regards to events he already have planned out.

Maxwell’s face fell, suddenly feeling sorry. “Aw, man. I know you wanna go to the Statue of Liberty but our time is really limited.”

Liam’s eyes perked up as he smiled. “Oh, no. That’s... not particularly what I have in mind.”

Because he already knew how the night would play out if he laid his cards right.

“This... is your last stop?” Maxwell looked incredulously over Liam, as if he had just knocked his head on the concrete and somehow survived but lost a few brain cells or two after.

“I believe it is a quaint little find.” He commented, his heart hammering loudly in quiet excitement. Riley was only a few meters and a few seconds away from him.

Maxwell grinned brightly. “Quaint? This is fantastic! How were you able to find it? Wait...” Then he eyed Liam suspiciously. “Are you after my own title as the world’s greatest party planner?”

Drake scoffed so hard he ended up coughing. Tariq only rolled his eyes. “I believe Prince Liam would never want such title.”

“Still, I’m impressed.” Drake smiled and nodded towards the entrance of the bar. “A greasy joint with local alcohol. Great find.”

Liam nodded, pleased with how he was able to control the events so far. He religiously followed Maxwell’s itinerary for the night, though he made a few arrangements of what was supposed to happen, such as suggesting the bar ahead of time. Still, he was glad they were able to find themselves outside Riley’s workplace. Just in time like before.

The guys went on ahead with excited chatters, still under the merriment from their previous clamoring adventures before they stumbled upon the bar. Liam remained outside for a bit just to gather his thoughts.

The very idea of the possibility of time travel tugged the back of his mind. After all, surely, he didn’t just dream a fantasy of his own wife and marriage. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be promising for the King of Cordonia to be suffering from such hallucinations. If there were any.

It was real. Even if nobody around him can vouch for it, he was certain. Everything was real.

However, when he finally entered the place, anticipating to see Riley waiting their group just like how it was supposed to be, he paused on his tracks.

The scenario played out differently than before.

“Daniel?” He whispered loud enough that the lad, who if he recalls correctly was Riley’s coworker, could hear. Daniel turned and raised a brow towards Liam, surprised at how he was able to know his name. Which, in due circumstances, sounded suspicious and alarming. Liam clammed his mouth shut but his mind was already in hyper drive. Millions of questions flooded like raging wildfire – and it wasn’t the most ideal set.

“Uh, how can I help you, er, sir...?” Daniel asked just as Maxwell moved to make space for Liam.

It took him quite a bit to process his thoughts but thankfully, he was able to gather himself. “My apologies. I’m with them.” Liam pointed towards their table as Daniel nodded slowly.

“Hey, lots of whiskey, alright?” Drake called in, drawing back Daniel’s attention. The waiter nodded then scrambled to immediately cater the order.

“I suppose a deluxe burger wouldn’t hurt...” Tariq’s disappointed voice said as he laid back against the withered leather couch they were sitting at. Liam gingerly walked over to the empty pace beside Maxwell and sat. Despite the lively chatters of his companions, his mind reeled back to the course of events.

Why was it not Riley who was waiting their table? He was certain that it should’ve been her. After all, how would they meet each other if she was not the one who took care of them? It was the key moment that should happen! Liam clenched his fists in frustration, unable to find answers for his questions.

“Liven up! It’s about damn time you all know how to live like a local.” Drake smirked just as the first round of whiskey were delivered.

Fried food and the faint smoke of something being grilled wafted in the air. Only men stood behind the bar counter.

She was nowhere to be found.

Disappointment and confusion infused in his system due to his inability to correctly follow through the course of events. The men were getting rowdy and they were getting more demanding. When alcohol finally hit his companions’ system and they were starting to loosen up, he stood and excused himself, in the guise of asking about their orders.

He needed to breathe. Without much of a second glance, he went straight towards the door. Liam stepped out to the crisp, chilly night breeze, taking in the glitz and glamour of the city lights before him. But somehow, with no clue to lead him, he felt more alone than when he first came to New York.

It was excruciating, to be feeling both complete helplessness and loneliness in a lively city. Without Riley by his side, with suddenly being thrown into such predicaments, with only so much that he can understand.

Just then, he heard movements from behind, followed by heavy footsteps and a grumbling voice. Alarmed because of his lack of security and in a completely foreign country, he turned to take a look, ready to take action. But to his surprise, it was... completely something else. Or someone.

Liam’s eyes widened in shock that almost knocked his winds out.

The stranger halted, trash dangling midair, mouth in a thin line. 

Liam’s heart pounded rabidly against his chest. It was as if everything zoned out around them.

There was nothing else but the faint sounds of footsteps from the street, a few car horns in the distance and the smooth breeze in the air.

“Riley...” Her named rolled off his tongue, the familiarity almost crushing his rib cage. It was a mix of being excited and being afraid. Riley stared back at him with no hint of recognition. At all. As if he was a stranger she never met in her entire life.

Riley seemed to be taken aback but was quick to recover. She settled the garbage down and cautiously inched away from Liam with her brows furrowed in suspicion.

“Who are you?” Her voice drawled. Liam almost choked. He did his very best to maintain a friendly, neutral expression but his resolve slipped almost immediately.

“I...” He began, only to nimbly locate the correct words he needed to use. He paused as he tried to gather himself. But before he could even speak—

“If you try something funny, I won’t hesitate—” She fired with vitality in her voice it almost made his heart do a somersault.

Liam wanted to laugh at his hasty and unplanned actions. Approach the woman who owns you completely as a stranger she never met in her life, just beside a local dumpster. Brilliant.

“My apologies. I...” Thinking of a quick excuse, he blurted out the very first thing that came to mind. “I was wondering if you needed any help?” He immediately regretted it.

Riley snorted in amusement and Liam wanted to mentally smack himself. Riley still has that effect on him. She was always able to surprise him in more ways than possible, which rendered him speechless half of the time. He’s still undeniably in awe.

“Yeah... right. How gentlemanly of you to offer that to a stranger you met at a dumpster.” Riley laughed and proceeded to throw the garbage bags in the bins. When she finished, she turned to meet Liam’s gaze squarely and crossed her arms over her chest. She raised a brow, as if asking him something.

He swallowed and smiled sheepishly. “Charmed to meet you, then?”

“I’m not sure how you know my name but we can talk out in the front if you’d like.” She gave him a half-smile that made her eyes twinkle.

Liam couldn’t suppress a smile of his own while he gently nodded in agreement. He felt giddy all over, as if his spirits were lifted up in the air.

“That sounds like a good plan.” He chimed.

She grinned. He returned the gesture like a lovesick boy.

“Meet me inside.”

“As you wish.”

And as he followed her inside, he momentarily looked at his reflection on the mirrored windows of the bar. He paused in his tracks, almost too tired of the many surprises he’s had.

For there was the very same rectangular-shaped bar just a few inches on top of his head, but somehow, unlike Maxwell’s and Drake’s, his was filled with a quarter of color red.

[jewish-gay-elves]

arguing is the name of the game, but you all lost the point

“and stephan is too jelly bellied to kill Zev like Sten suggests But, Ghrena, Leli, Tamlen and Han'rel get back from Denerim first with Daolin Tabris in tow because Tamlen AND Han'rel were both like, we can’t just do nothing, he'll get taken away for killing the Arl's son! so they "conscript" him and hightail it back to Redcliffe where they find the rest of the crew trying to figure out what to do with Zev. So both crews start arguing about Zev and Daolin.” - my notes on this au

AO3 Link Words: 1676, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 6 of the a tale of too many wardens because i want everyone to be happy and heres how

Fandoms: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: None Characters: Stephan Cousland, Male Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair (Dragon Age), Sten (Dragon Age), Teagan Guerrin, Han'rel Mahariel, Male Mahariel (Dragon Age), Tamlen (Dragon Age), Leliana (Dragon Age), Ghrena Aeducan, Female Aeducan (Dragon Age), Daolin Tabris, Male Tabris (Dragon Age) Relationships: None Additional Tags: In this au zevran attacks while they're at redcliffe before arl eamon wakes up, then they try to figure out what to do with him without Fergus who is actually in charge here, and since there are so many wardens some of them split up to do different stuff, they are just barely functioning and have approx six braincells among themselves

“We could always kill him,” Sten said frankly, sounding annoyed by the fact that they hadn’t already done that. “He is weakened and unaware, better than what he deserves,”

    “No, Sten, for the last time we are not killing him,” Stephan said, keeping his voice stern to hide how uneasy he felt with the whole conversation. The assassin had been after Alistair, so really he supposed Alistair had the final call on whether or not to let him live. However the Prince seemed to be of the same opinion as Stephan, they weren’t going to kill him, but neither of them were quite sure what to do with him beyond tying him up and locking him in a room.

    Suddenly Alistair jumped out of his chair from across the room. “They’re back! The group from Denerim is back!” The two humans looked at each other in excitement, perhaps there was finally some news about the state of Ferelden’s politics. Something they both had been kept from in this dire time. They both almost rushed out of the room together before they realized that they weren’t sure if they should leave Sten alone with the would-be assassin still locked in the next room. Stephan unsubtly grabbed the key, as if the lock would actually stop the giant, and the two men headed for the courtyard. Sten just remained in place, staring impassively at the door to the room where they left the would-be assassin.

    They caught up to the group in the main hall, already being received by Bann Teagan. The Bann had been extremely grateful to the Wardens for helping to clear Redcliffe of the undead, and currently letting them stay in the castle as they searched for some sort of cure. If they had any leads on something to cure his brother, any leads at all, Bann Teagan would want to hear them. Unfortunately, as Alistair and Stephan arrived, it was to a very disappointed Teagan. Wordlessly, they looked to Tamlen to explain.

    “Nothing but dead ends and a lying assistant. We couldn’t outright confront him considering we were trying to stay low and a slight lack of proof. We did find the name of a place Genitivi might have gone to, Haven, but it's all the way in the Frostbacks,” Tamlen said, shrugging. Alistair nodded in understanding, and heard Bann Teagan mention something about seeing to arrangements for dinner that night, and planned to go with him. However, Alistair paused when he saw that the group had grown by one in number. He admitted to himself that there were quite a few wardens in their group now, and that he doesn’t quite know everyone yet, but he certainly doesn’t remember the elf now standing next to Mahariel.

    “Who’s he?” Alistair asked, instantly cautious considering not even hours prior he had an assassin at his throat. Tamlen and Han’rel look at each other, confused for a moment and then both made noises of understanding.

    “This is Daolin Tabris, our newest conscript!” Han’rel said, walking over to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder. The elf named Daolin clearly isn’t excited by the gesture, barely even welcoming of it, but tolerated it as he bristled under the Prince’s stare. Alistair is sure that Daolin can tell that there are things being unsaid, that his status as a “conscript” is still under review. Especially, Alistair knows, because those who recruited him are barely beyond the newly recruited status themselves.

    Han’rel took his arm back and came closer to speak to Alistair and Stephan more directly. “I may not have a full and clear idea of how your cities are run, but they were going to kill him for exacting justice!” he exclaimed, his tattooed face pulled into a large scowl, worrying the two humans greatly.

    “What Han’rel means is that the son of the Arl was a despicable piece of shit, who deserved what he got, but the human authorities didn’t seem to see it that way,” Tamlen further explained, causing the two human’s eyes to widen further. Daolin, at this point, had started to pull away from the group unnoticed as Stephan and Alistair’s attention was solely focused on Tamlen now at his words.

    “What happened?” Stephan managed to grit out through his clenched jaw. They had sent that group to Denerim based on the fact that they were all sneaky, or knew how to not attract the wrong sort of attention. Clearly, they were going to have to reassess that statement after this.

    “Well, Daolin was about to get married, and Tamlen and I, being random bystanders, got invited to the celebration! However, the ceremony got interrupted by the Arl’s son and his friends who were a very nasty sort. They knocked out Daolin and then kidnapped the bride and all the other women with her!” Han’rel began to explain. Alistair could barely keep up with the story and it had just started.

    “So you went to the guards and told them what happened and they took care of the Arl’s son?” Stephan asked carefully, praying to Andraste that the two would have done the sensible thing for once.

    “No,” Tamlen said, crushing all of Stephan’s hopes, “We waited for Daolin to wake up, and offered to go with him to save the women of course. One of his clan helped us get into the estate where we then found where they had locked up the women,” He continued, oblivious to Stephan and Alistair’s growing distress.

    “And then you went to the city guard and told them what happened and what you found and they took care of the Arl’s son?” Stephan asked, his tone growing a bit higher in pitch.

    “Of course not, we slaughtered them all and took the women back home to their families! Daolin didn’t end up getting married after all, considering we hadn’t been back for all of an hour before the guard finally showed up asking questions and demanding to arrest someone. So, that was when we conscripted him! After that we really didn’t want to hang around, especially because Genitivi’s assistant was useless, and headed back here.” Han’rel finished, all the while extremely proud of himself. Stephan’s face was at least two shades lighter, and Alistair’s jaw fully dropped. The two stunned humans couldn’t even begin to take apart how many missteps the elves made and they just ended up looking at each other, lost and unsure where to even start.

    Leliana and Ghrena walked over from where they had left their horses with the stable boys and were holding back laughter from seeing the men’s faces. The “conscript” had stepped behind the newcomers and was distancing himself from the group. Leliana patted Stephan on the shoulder and tried to comfort him.

    “Sadly, Ghrena and I were attending Chantry services on what we thought would be a very quiet day, and weren’t around for this. Considering what they had to work with they did very well. There was no actual proof to tie any of them to the death, just that people knew that the Arl’s son had been by the alienage earlier in the day and that was why the guards assumed it was an elf,” she explained, defending the two Dalish. Alistair shook himself out of his stupor and finally came back to himself.

    “The Grey Wardens are enemies of the crown! Declared by Loghain himself, how did you get the guards to just accept that you were conscripting him and let you leave? By all rights they should have tried to slay you where you stood!” Alistair sputtered.

    “By all rights?” Han’rel asked, his tone light but the look in his eyes had suddenly darkened.

    “No, you’re right, they would have had no right to do that, I’m sorry for saying that Han’rel. I just mean that they should be under orders to not have let you out, and I don’t understand why they did,” Alistair clarified.

    “That would probably be because of the bribe the Keeper handed them,” Tamlen explained, Han’rel nodding beside him.

    “You bribed a city guard?!” Stephan grit out, almost distraught at the news of the easy corruption in Denerim.

    “To be fair, the guards in Orzammar probably would have done the same in this sort of a situation,” Ghrena said, thinking back to how much trouble she would have gotten in if not for Bhelen’s well timed bribes. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the stable boys walking past the group, but didn’t notice Tabris fading in and sneaking away from the Wardens and the two noblemen.

    “That doesn’t make it any better! I can’t believe we were going to ask you all about what to do with the Crow,” Alistair said, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

    “A crow? How’d it fly in anyway? There are quite a few doors here. Wouldn’t it make sense to just lead it back outside?” Han’rel asked, not understanding.

    “No, he means an assassin, specifically one from Antiva, very specialized,” Stephan explained, already used to certain things needing to be explained.

    “An assassin! Why didn’t you start with that! That’s way more interesting than what we did in Denerim. I’d assume you’d just do whatever it is you do with dead people up here. I mean, there’s no returning to the Stone on the surface like this,” Ghrena said, feeling slightly jealous that they got to deal with an assassin while they just talked to a slimy assistant.

    “He’s not dead, we just knocked him out and tied him up,” Stephan clarified.

    “What?!” Ghrena said, sounding somewhat excited by the prospect of being able to fight the assassin herself.

    “Wait, where did Daolin go?” Tamlen said, finally speaking after noticing that their group had gotten smaller. They could only look around and at each other in confusion before finally realizing that they had lost track of the new “conscript”.

    “What a professional and capable group we are, hmm?” Stephan said, rolling his eyes at the now, once again, chattering group.

[jungnoir]

prince!jaemin confidently kisses his princess when she will only awaken with her one true love’s kiss. distraught, he kisses you again, and again, desperation seeping through when nothing happens and knight!jeno averts his gaze full of shame

battlecry;

⇢ summary: love is cruel, ignorance is bliss, and all good kings must learn this. prompt belongs to @itsmultifandomtrash! 

⇢ relationship: na jaemin/reader/lee jeno. 

⇢ genre: prince!au, knight!au, angst. just angst. if you came here looking for a good time you will be attacked.

⇢ words: 5.8k.

⇢ warnings: unrequited love. sad boy gang.

a/n: I’m not sure where it went, but a few days ago, @trashknj tagged me on @nctangst‘s post about prince!jaemin where @itsmultifandomtrash sent in the above prompt and asked if I could write it! I got really inspired by it so I decided to give it a shot! hope I could do it justice~ my heart hurts :)

The palace was the quietest it had ever been since the day you were poisoned.

What used to be a sanctuary for laughter and happiness was now like a tomb; its silent walls would close in on you in the long hallways, its cool breezes now felt like icy fingers gripping at any piece of exposed skin it could reach. Royals would have dinner in silence. Nobles would visit with the utmost sincerity in their hearts as they offered their condolences to the king and queen for their daughter. Servants would meet each other’s eyes with grim looks, the question on everyone’s lips but never uttered for fear of reprimanding: would the princess ever wake from this curse?

When the witch had struck you, you had dropped like a rock. Days had gone by since the angry sorceress burst through the crowd of adoring subjects who’d welcomed you into town that too-sunny Saturday, cursing you where you stood because “tyrants should never smile”. It was in the wake of a recent law passed to abolish black magic, and while you’d never had a hand in the commandments of your country, you were the one who suffered the price.

Morbidly, the subjects were at least happy you weren’t dead, but a dreamless, wakeless sleep didn’t sound much better. Your chest still rose and fell underneath the sheer white fabric adorning your chest and your eyelids would flutter every now and then, but never did they open. Your fingers might twitch or your body might shiver when the cold night air would rush in from your bedroom window, but you did not cuddle into your sheets for any warmth. Your blood ran warm underneath your skin, but you were as good as dead.

The ordeal had arisen during the week that Prince Jaemin had come to visit you.

Pen pals since youth, Jaemin was your best friend and, soon to be, husband. You had confided in him for everything from the start of your youth until the moment you’d become a true adult in the kingdom’s eyes, a shining eighteen years of age which meant that you were that much closer to ascending to queenhood. Jaemin, too, was also soon to become a king of the neighboring kingdom of Na, and your parents had found it fit to put you two together. The arrangement had been announced only a few weeks ago, but they’d apparently been planning it since your tweens. Jaemin had been excited after years of writing to you, waiting to see you again for the first time since you were just children, and the week had been planned to a T. You’d meant to show him around the kingdom, show him the best of the crown city, and it was that particular day that you had to cut into the tightly packed tour for a quick public appearance.

Had Jaemin known that that day you’d be cursed into an endless sleep, he would have gone with you.

It was no secret to anyone in the palace how much Jaemin hated that he had not been there to protect you. Even when you both were far apart, your letters to him about your hardships and the snooty royals that’d come to visit would always spur him into a very long and very cheesy rant about how he wished he could slay your dragons for you. He considered himself to be your knight in shining armor, and you had never really disagreed. Yet, even with all his passion, he knew deep down that he would not have been fast enough to intercept the curse on its way to you. Most nights though, he dreams that he could have been.

So he’d stayed longer, written countless letters to his parents about how he refused to leave your side until you were all better, and the monarchs of Na and your kingdom were more than understanding given the bond you both shared. He’d stay forever if it meant that you would never be without someone by your side. He insisted that it must be him, had to be him, because he loved you and you loved him, and if you love someone the way he loves you, you don’t leave them for anything.

The only other person who seemed to feel that as much as he was the stoic knight at your chamber’s doors, stiff as a board and adorned in the armor of the kingdom’s military. He was already a higher-up knight by the age of 15, fighting many battles in the name of the king with what the prince had heard was nearly godly strength and will. When you had gotten a little older, the king decided to assign his best and youngest knight to you in hopes that he would guard your life as well as he guarded the lives of his men on the battlefield, and do that he surely did.

After the first two days of sitting by your side, clutching your hand in his until the warmth shared between them caused his palm to perspire, he decided that he could not take the silence anymore. The sounds of your even breaths seemed to only drive him slowly insane, the prince practically waiting for the moment they might stop altogether. So he talked to the knight instead.

“Did you grow up here? In the crown city?” Jaemin asked the knight one day, fingers still wrapped around your own. It was a hot summer afternoon, that much he could tell from the heat of the sun beating on his back through the balcony.

The knight did not stir, nor made any move to remove his helmet. The blasted silver thing glared at Jaemin from across the room, the only barrier he had between him and the knight. You had written fondly (and in great detail) of the great knight Jeno’s personality many times in your letters to the prince, so he knew not to take it personally when Jeno didn’t answer right away. It had taken you two years to get him to fully open up to you, and even then, you still suffered from Jeno’s quiet nature.

With nothing to do but wait, Jaemin just continued to watch the knight. He used the silence to examine the knight from head to toe, from boot to helmet. He noticed the sword slashes on the metal that scarred what he knew was once crystal clear. Some were closer to his neck, others closer to his left arm where the armor stopped and a mesh covering allowed for better movement of his arms. He’d once been told by his father that a man without a few scars had not yet become a man. Jaemin was sure Jeno had plenty.

“No, your highness.” Jeno finally answers, voice intense and echoing in the metal confinement around his head. Jaemin perks up some; he hadn’t expected such an answer so quickly!

“A nearby town, then? I hear most people only come to the crown city to live a better life. It is rather beautiful here after all, a city by the sea.” Jaemin hums fondly. You both were supposed to go to the beach on the weekend of his visit, right before he was set to return home for further kingly preparations.

Jeno doesn’t move still, but a hum mirrors the prince’s in the hushed room and it is nice. “Not nearby, your highness. I traveled quite a way to be here, but you are right about the last part. I came here for a better life. For my family, too.”

The prince’s chest swells with a sweet feeling; a boy as young as he turning to the crown city in order to make a better life for himself and family was not new under the sun, but he still rather admired those who did it. He knew that if he wasn’t born into such fortunate circumstances, he’d be willing to do the same in a heartbeat. 

“I wonder,” Jaemin starts, wistful as he turns his gaze back to your peacefully sleeping face, “if in another world, I was like you. Perhaps, if in that world (Y/N) was still a princess, I would have been able to make it to her like this. Like you.”

Jeno somehow stiffens even more at this. Jaemin doesn’t notice, “Would we still have fallen in love? I’m certain we would have.” Affectionately, Jaemin reaches to cradle your face as a sick feeling begins to settle in Jeno’s stomach. The prince had no idea. “She has that kind of heart. She would fall in love with someone no matter their status, because she’s just that way.” The prince had no idea.

Jaemin smiles, lost in his own world as if Jeno wasn’t even there. It’s just you and the prince as far as he’s concerned, and he’s just dreaming of the day the court mage finds a way to wake you. He knows you’ll be waiting for him as he has waited for you. “I must sound so childish and naive,” Jaemin directs this to Jeno without looking away from your shut eyes, “but I know there’s nothing in this world or the next that could separate us. It just feels destined. Nothing could destroy destiny.”

The knight is happy he isn’t expected to reply, and that is maybe the last time he gets that feeling. The prince had no idea.

The conversations grow each day.

Jaemin would either wake from beside you because he’d fallen asleep next to you, or he’d be rushing from the royal guest’s quarters at the crack of dawn to your bedroom doors. He would always tell Jeno that when he was there, the knight could rest easy outside the room. It was really his way to talk to you aloud, attempting to coax you from your sleep as the court mage worked away on figuring out how to wake you. Since the ban on black magic, many of the mage’s dabbling in the arts had to be halted unless absolutely necessary, and this situation was deemed absolutely necessary. The court mage mainly worked with health and protection potions for everyday afflictions, so this meant that it would take a little longer for him to summon the right counter to a curse and make sure it worked on you. It didn’t matter to Jaemin or the king what it took, so long as you were awake and smiling again.

Until then, Jaemin was content with talking to you. He would recall times you’d spent together as children on holidays or brief visits, or he’d discuss some of the events you both chronicled in your letters to each other. Each conversation would end with a solemn “I love you”, each word dripping in sincerity. He’d been saying it to you as much as he was physically able to ever since he’d found out you were both to be engaged. He hadn’t rushed you to say it back of course, the king and queen assuring him that his feelings were most certainly reciprocated. They’d told him how shocked from excitement you’d been to hear the news, and Jaemin had felt like he was on cloud nine. You had never been so bashful with him in his whole life until that point, but he assumed that it was because you two had never really addressed the possibility of being something more than friends before… it was new territory. He understood that much.

Jaemin tried not to bore Jeno with countless questions about you (or even more specifically, questions about how you felt about him), but sometimes he just couldn’t help it. Like now.

“Did she talk about me a lot to you?” Jaemin asks over his dinner. The prince rarely spent time away from your room, even to eat, so the maids would bring him something up each evening. Sometimes, he’d wave a bit of your favorite foods in front of your nose teasingly, wondering if that might wake you. It never seemed to stop you from snapping to attention before.

It had been a week since the first conversation with Jeno and since then, Jaemin had requested of Jeno to not wear his helmet. He had hoped that without the obstruction, he’d be able to get more comfortable with the knight, but even without it the knight was as motionless as ever. Lips tightly pursed, eyes always facing forward, brows even. It was Jaemin’s goal to get the knight you cared for so much to like him. After all, he’d be seeing a lot more of him in the future.

Jeno takes his time to answer as always, thankfully never leaving Jaemin hanging, “A bit, your highness. She described you as her best friend.”

Jaemin blushes, looking down at his food. “Is that… so? I always wondered if maybe she’d make a closer friend here. I guess that spot was reserved for me. What else did she say about me?”

“That you were easily excitable, your highness.”

“Eh?!” Jaemin screeches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

While others might have flinched away at Jaemin’s tone, maybe afraid they’d offended the prince in some way, Jeno does nothing of the sort because he knows it’s harmless. He continues to stand tall, though his eyes glide to Jaemin for one of the few times the prince had caught him doing so, “I assumed it was due to your childlike nature, your highness. I’m sure she didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

Still, Jaemin pouts. “I’m… I’m not easy.”

Jeno looks away from him just as slowly as he looked to him, “Of course not, your highness.”

“Hey,” Jaemin lightly scolds, “you don’t sound too convinced!”

The knight’s lip quirks up a bit and Jaemin really can’t believe it. Was… was the stoic knight really smiling right now? Had he really just made Jeno smile? “I’m sorry, your highness. The princess’s sentiments of you have left an impression.”

Jaemin huffs, though he’s happy that there seems to be a more comfortable air in the room now. Even if it was the smallest twitch in the lip, Jaemin counts Jeno’s smile as a success through and through. The pout leaves the prince’s lips finally, changing the subject, “Well, when she wakes, we’ll have to have a discussion about that. She can’t ruin my charming reputation without my consent.”

Again, Jaemin is surprised when Jeno makes a small sound. Almost like a… chuckle. Just barely there, his ears would have lost the sound to the wind had it not been such a soundless night. Jaemin laughs a little on his own, too, delighted. “Of course, your highness. Though I cannot promise her willingness to change her ways, I’m sure you’ll make a good effort.”

The prince shakes his head goodnaturedly, taking a sip from his chalice as he throws a glance your way. It feels odd to have you here but not have you really here, the prince thinks. How he wished you would wake and add to the conversation, but no such thing would happen just based off of intention alone. The court mage was getting close to exposing the counter to your curse, so he just had to wait a little longer. Imagine how thrilled you’d be when you found out that he and Jeno were getting along! Even being friends! He could see the pleased smile on your face as clear as day, as if you were really smiling at him inches from his face. He sighs contentedly.

Jaemin decides he’ll spend tonight talking to you again, but he won’t tell Jeno to leave the room this time. He doesn’t feel the need to be private in front of him right now, and if he can help it, the bond between the two of them might grow stronger just by listening to the adventures you both shared in your youth. “Thank you for talking to me again today, Jeno. I can see why she cares for you so much.”

Jeno had feared this before when he’d taken off his mask for the first time. He’d been able to keep himself emotionless in the face of the prince on several other occasions, but he isn’t sure he can hide the way his face falls at the thought. A swirling pit of guilt has begun to accumulate in his gut and has yet to disappear since the prince had gotten here. It had been so much easier before he’d actually met the prince to see him as some kind of battle, like the ones he used to face in his younger days. This wedding was your battle to fight, and Jeno would be guarding you every step of the way. Sympathizing with the very cause of his grief was the last thing he needed. Yet, here he stands, joking and laughing with the prince as if he isn’t the reason why Jeno’s nightmares are all of your wedding day, marrying someone that isn’t him while he fades into the background.

It had barely felt like a day had passed since you both last professed your love to each other, since your only concerns were bringing up the relationship between you both to your parents. His biggest fear was that the king and queen would not allow him to court you, to one day marry you if you so wished. Yet now, his biggest fear was that that chance to tell them would never even come, and you would fall for your best friend, the prince, who seemed to know you much better than Jeno did. With time, your feelings for the knight would disappear, and Jeno would watch it all with a heart that would never repair itself.

And here this very prince was, thanking him. Thanking him for comforting him while the love of both of their lives lay unconscious mere feet away. It was sick. Though the witch had probably meant for the curse to hurt no one but you, the king, and the queen, they had seriously miscalculated the ripples this would have on everyone around you. Jeno knew the way the guilt ate at you tenfold, forcing yourself to lie to Jaemin about your “feelings” in order to not hurt him with the truth just yet. You were cornered with nowhere else to go and Jeno could do nothing but watch. Sadly, maybe you were at least at peace in this sleep, free from the clutches of heartache in your chest.

Jaemin thinks that Jeno is just taking his usual time with replying, unknowing of the turmoil that festers behind the knight’s quickly rebuilt facade, “Of course… your highness.”

Three weeks have passed since the curse and Jeno and Jaemin are what Jaemin considers “friends”. Their conversations are considerably longer, and this leads to Jaemin convincing Jeno to leave your room every once in a while for a change of venue. Usually, Jeno would protest to leaving you alone anywhere, but the other knights standing guard at your door promise that they would alert both the prince and Jeno of any changes in your condition if something happened. After a few trips around the palace, Jeno wasn’t as averse to the idea anymore. They’d even managed to make it outside more than a few times.

Their walks were usually full of talking (mainly on Jaemins’s side). Jeno had ended up showing Jaemin parts of the palace that you hadn’t yet gotten to show him, deciding you wouldn’t mind too much if he got used to his surroundings while you were still under the spell. Jaemin had never been the type to just sit still for a long time either, though the sadness and concern he had for you had cemented him to your side without a thought about it for nearly a month. Sometimes, they’d walk through the gardens and Jaemin would tell him about the flora back home. Sometimes, Jeno would request a special lunch for the two of them out near the lake. Sometimes, they’d just circle the grand hall and talk.

It was unusual for Jeno to be so close to a royal like you until he realized he fell for you and you him. This, however, was different. He could not readily consider Jaemin a friend, especially when the truth had not yet been revealed to the other, but he still felt… friendly. He had meant to stay as impartial to the prince as possible, an attempt to keep his soft heart from caving in on itself at the thought of ever telling him the truth about you and him. He believed that with as little attachment to him as possible, even possibly looking at all of Jaemin’s flaws alone to help him, he could feel less terrible for this setup.

But he still finds himself caring for the young prince anyway, and he wishes selfishly that you’d awaken because he isn’t sure he can do this without you.

According to the mage, the curse that had been used on you was emotion based. There was no amount of herbal medicine that could bring you back from this sleep, but they weren’t totally sure what was needed to jolt you awake. In some cases, a curse like this would be fixed with some kind of internal shock, some interruption of dreams, something that your soul would feel rather than your body. Knowing your waking was so close was happy and terrifying for Jeno; there was so much you hadn’t gotten to talk about since the announcement, and there was so much that needed to be talked about that Jeno had a hard time keeping mental purchase of them all.

Today, he can let himself forget some of them as he and Jaemin watch the sea from the highest tower in the palace. The salty air is refreshing to Jaemin, a prince from a kingdom that is surrounded by dense forests and rain rather than ocean water. “Jeno, do you get to visit the beach often?” Jaemin asks.

Jeno stands beside the prince whose arms are folded on the stone ledge, eyes squinted at the early evening sunlight streaking the blue water with ripples of white. Until Jaemin, he had never walked around for this long without his helmet on. It wasn’t necessary for him to do so inside the palace, rather just a habit of his from his battle days, but it also gave him the impassive and intimidating aura that kept people from messing with you (if they ever so thought to). He’d begun to dress down too, another thing he wasn’t so used to. Instead of his bulky armor, he adorned some of the less restrictive clothing for moving around on the palace grounds. It made him more approachable, much to his confusion. All Jaemin’s idea.

“No…” Jeno pauses, attempting to adjust to dropping the formal “your highness” when no one else was around, “I’ve been once or twice, but not for fun.”

Jaemin frowns, casting a glance at Jeno over his shoulder, “That should be a crime. You can’t live here and not get to visit the beach every weekend!”

Jeno scoffs, amused, “Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t want to go to the beach?”

Jaemin turns up his nose and shuffles a bit on his feet, “Well… I don’t know. You don’t?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I just… have no reason to. I don’t have anyone to go with.” Jeno admits. He doesn’t add the last bit about how the one person he’d want to go with could never.

He doesn’t have to, it seems, as Jaemin does it for him, “I’m sure (Y/N) would love to go with you. You know, as a friendly day out. If only this whole class system wasn’t so royally unfair, you two could go and no one would haggle you about it.”

Oh, how Jeno had daydreamed about just that for so long. If only Jaemin knew. Jeno could only respond with his best response to things like that, “Maybe in another life, but not this one.”

Jaemin flips around so that he’s facing Jeno with his back turned to the sea, his elbows propped up on the ledge now. He is squinting too, but not from the sunlight, that’s for sure. “You shouldn’t be so cynical, Jeno. I promise that one day in the future, me, (Y/N), you, and someone special will go out to the beach late one night without anyone finding out to just be free. By then, I will have appointed you to nobility, had your family moved out here to live with you in a villa on a nearby island, and gotten you acquainted with a charmer of your choice. You’ll be living the life, Jeno.”

Jeno blinks at the absurdity of Jaemin’s claims, “I-I never agreed to any of that. And you should be glad no one higher-up is around to hear you speaking like that.”

Jaemin just rolls his eyes and kicks his foot out, back and forth, “Don’t you think it’s nice, though? I know I’ve only known you for so long, but I can really see how much you care about (Y/N). And, since we’re getting married, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. I don’t want you to feel like you’re lesser than us, Jeno. You should be able to be comfortable around us and your family deserves to see you more than just once a year. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Jeno can clearly see the heart in Jaemin’s words, even as his own clenches at them. The truth is obvious to himself of course: he wouldn’t like that, not all of it anyway. He’d rather stay the way he is now, several ranks below you, untouchable, than to ever feel like he had even the inkling of a chance of being with you the way he wants to. With Jaemin in the picture, it’s the best choice anyway. Jaemin can’t see that though, should never have to, because Jaemin has done nothing but be kind to Jeno this whole time. Jaemin has done nothing but embrace him like a friend, and Jeno… Jeno just can’t. It just cannot be their truth. Jeno knows he will never be happy unless it’s at the expense of Jaemin’s happiness, and that is now far too taxing of a reality to bear.

Jeno doesn’t get to answer him, probably wouldn’t have been able to anyway, because the sound of rushing steps up the tower’s stairs catch them both off guard. Moments after the source of the steps reaches the doorway to the octagonal room, sweat is coating the face of the servant who’d sprinted to find them. She tries to catch her breath as Jaemin straightens up to address her, “Are you okay? What’s the rush?”

The servant bows quickly toward the foreign prince, “My apologies your highness, I did not mean to interrupt your conversation with Sir Jeno, but I have important news. Princess (Y/N)’s curse has been solved: we know what will wake her.”

Jaemin and Jeno both stand to attention, eyes darting to each other and then back to the panting servant. “Really?” Jeno rasps, urgency bleeding through his tone like a gushing river, “What is it? What will wake her?”

The servant draws in a heavy breath and even dares to crack a smile, eyes locked solely on Jaemin as she answers, “The princess’s curse will break upon the kiss of her true love’s lips.”

Jaemin runs faster than he ever has before. He’s not even sure Jeno is behind him when he thrusts himself through your double doors, a triumphant smile on his face when his eyes fall upon your figure. The king, queen, court mage, and a few servants stand around you all awaiting his arrival. The minute he makes his grand entrance, the smiles that beam at him practically light up the room.

The king is joyous as he welcomes the prince, “My son!” He calls heartily. A stab to Jeno’s heart as he enters a few moments later. “Quickly, quickly. You must awaken her.”

Jaemin’s ears go a little red at the prospect of sharing his first kiss with you like this, in front of all these people, but he knows that it is to save you and bring you back from this curse. He’d do anything to hear your voice again. Meanwhile, Jeno can only stand a few feet away in a disassociated stance. He doesn’t want to believe he’s experiencing this right now. He wishes that he could be anyone else.

“My stars, my stars,” Jaemin whispers adoringly as he collapses beside your body. You still look serene, and he can’t wait to see your eyes opening to look at him. Him, him, him. His favorite thing is to be seen by you. Your eyes dancing with warmth in them when you’d greeted him the day he got here had been playing in his mind on repeat for the last three weeks, and now… now, you were going to be awoken by true love’s kiss. His kiss. “Oh my stars, forgive me that this is our first kiss. Please wake and I’ll make it up to you.” Jaemin clutches your hand in his and squeezes it tight, imagining that you’ll squeeze it back. You don’t, but it won’t be like that for long.

Unable to contain his excitement, Jaemin looks to Jeno before he swoops in, smile not wide enough to even try to show the extent of his excitement. His eyes lock with the knight’s, but Jeno looks like he’s seen a ghost. It almost stops Jaemin in his tracks, almost. His excitement gets the best of him as he tries to remind himself that Jeno may just be overwhelmed; the entire room is overflowing with expectation and if it wasn’t the adrenaline Jaemin was being fueled by, he might be shaking at the thought of kissing you awake. Right now though, he has no time to worry about Jeno’s reaction. He’s far too focused on you.

He takes your face between his hands and sighs at your beauty, before letting himself descend delicately. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he leans down, lips inches to centimeters apart. His lips are dry from gnawing on them incessantly and he scolds himself for not being prepared to give you a pleasant kiss, but he hopes you won’t mind.

Finally, he meets your mouth.

It’s his first time kissing you and he can feel sparks exploding in his chest. There’s a party going on beneath his ribcage, or maybe that’s just the rapid beating of his heart. This is everything he wanted and more and he’s so, so nervous. He can’t pick up on anything but the pounding in his ears and the pressure of lips he’s waiting for to meet his own. He’s waiting. He’s waiting.

He’s waiting.

He’s… waiting.

Jaemin pulls back some, still holding your face. You don’t wake. He leans down to kiss you again, this time quicker and a little more sober, but when he pulls back yet again, you are still asleep. His eyes, in his desperation, flicker to the court mage who looks as dumbfounded as he and the rest of the room. One kiss, one small kiss from your true love was supposed to wake you from your slumber without a doubt. It’s what his Book of Shadows had told him, what he knew to be true from tales long past, so it should have worked. Jaemin had done everything perfectly, after all. 

The prince releases your cheeks and stares at your face. You’re motionless, just like you’d been for the last three weeks. His kiss… had done nothing.

So, he wasn’t…

The queen gasps when it clicks. Jaemin goes still when something entirely different clicks for him.

It should have been clear before.

Jeno is avoiding his eyes but there are tears staining his cheeks already. His lips are shaking like he’s going to full on bawl in a moment. No matter how hard Jaemin stares at him, Jeno won’t look. He can’t. He mustn’t. If he did, he might not be able to bear it.

Jeno should be happy with all other things isolated; Jaemin is not your true love, and any doubts he had that you might have unexplored feelings for the prince are crushed at the same time that he realizes what this means. There is no one else you are as close to as you are with Jaemin… except him.

He is always with you, always by your side, your confidant when writing a letter will take too long. Jaemin may have known you longer, but contrary to Jeno’s beliefs, he didn’t know you better. Jeno had seen more of the you that you are now than Jaemin had, and that meant something. Something terrible, something wonderful… depending on how you looked at it.

And Jeno knew the whole time, the prince realizes. He didn’t tell him.

“…so… you wouldn’t have liked that, then.” Jaemin whispers, and nobody but Jeno knows to what that he’s referencing.

“I’m so- so sorry.” Jeno’s voice cracks, full of more emotion than he’d ever shown the prince since they’d met. He can’t stop crying as he feels the world crumble about him. He knows what he should do next, but he never imagined that his feelings would be exposed this way. Never would have wished for it.

Jaemin is suppressing a sob because he knows that that’s what kings do. He couldn’t cry now. What would that make him look like? A babbling child in front of the people of the kingdom he was hoping to rule one day by your side? He could never. He should never… but he is mourning inside.

The prince stands with every pair of eyes on him except that of the knight’s. You lay still, unaware. At that moment, everyone wishes they could be you (Jaemin the most). He takes in a heavy breath, centering himself like his father had taught him to do when faced with a situation that he was unsure of. He breathes in, and out, eyes shut to block out the vision of Jeno sniveling a few feet away, though the sound is loud and clear in the dead silent room. He has to get this over with, and it’s now or never. No matter how badly he wanted it to be him, it wasn’t. He hates that it’s Jeno. But…

Jaemin steps away from you with a heavy heart, holding out a hand to motion to you. Jeno looks from the prince’s hand to you, then to the prince’s detached expression. “Then you must wake her, Jeno. Please.”

“…O-of course, your highness.”

[fearsbellsarchived]

[me? Thinking about a gf fairytales au instead of being productive? More likely than u think!!! think ou.at buT BETTER and w/o the real world dimension hopping part. under the cut bc i just copy/pasted my tags from forever ago to put them in one place

mabel and dipper are hansel and gretal

paz is sleeping beauty 

bill is maleficient 

if we’re gonna get disney about it wendy as merida 

i LOVE the idea of tambry as rapunzel??? 

mabel can also be like...eric from the little mermaid 

so mermando can be ariel 

gIDEON AS URSULA/VANESSA IN THAT VEIN THO 

bill is also rumplestilskin 

stan can be the huntsman (idk from which story cause theres a fEW BUT)

ford is the sorcerer from fanstasia 

ford is teaching dipper magic....and instead of a true love’s kiss that’s how he wakes paz (maybe?)

the northwests made a deal w bill like in the most famous version of rumplestilskin but instead of wanting paz for himself he just wanted to steal her body at 16

so when they lose the deal they ask for help from ford and ford’s like “yo i can maybe change the deal??? a little bit???” so instead of bill taking her over when he goes to she falls asleep ​

so dipper wasnt supposed to wake her up but he found her and fords notes and he and mabel went on an adventure

bill is all the villains 

billains 

so stan has to leave mabel and dipper in the woods (idk y it wasnt for long the twins are just impatient) so stan disappears and the twins are like “lETS EXPLORE THE WOODS”

they come across some creepy old house w a lot of spiderwebs (can u guess the villain yet?)

an older woman comes out and is like “why are you guys lost in the forest?”

mabel points to the glitter trail “we’re not lost”

dipper looks behind them ‘mabel!!! where’s all the glitter?!”

(ACTUALLY MAYBE ITS YARN???) 

so they lose the trail 

meanwhile stan is losing his fucking mind

he follows the stray glitter but it’s blown all over

he feels “LOST IN THE WOOOOODDDS!!!”

so the old lady offers for them to stay the night bc its getting late

dipper is SUPER sus but he plays it cool surprisingly

mabel is So In!

long short...stan eventually saves them from darlene’s trap

usually shes just a maneater but look

when u live in the woods u do what u can

so stan hauls them back to their cottage

dipper knew there was weird shit out there but he wants MORE

he starts going through his great-uncle’s journals (*cue the dipper squee*)

he reads about bill and his deal w paz’s parents

he’s like....’maybe we should rescue her?’

ford wont tell him why they cant

so dipper and mabel sneak out

they steal the grunkles’ boat

mabel falls over board???

dipper tries like HELL to save her

but then he sees mermando save her

SO MABEL IS SAVED BY MERMANDO!!! 

gideon (who had long-loved mabel from afar) finds out

he visits the merman to trick him

all mabel remembers is his voice

so YES mermando trades his voice for legs just like the movie

sue me okay w his distinct accent it makes sense!!!

so the twins get sidetracked bc mermando shows up out of nowhere

they dock on a small island for a pit stop and thats when ‘kiss the girl’ happens

they dont kiss so they move on

they dock on another stretch of land the next day

AND GIDEON APPEARS

the twins have only heard about him from their grunkles so mabel hears his voice and goes *heart eyes*

mermando is Distressed

dipper is Focused on getting to this sleeping princess

mabel makes fun of him for liking her

SO GIDEON HAS MERMANDOS VOICE!

at one point dipper catches him w/o the amulet that makes him sound like mermando

and he tells mabel and its kinda like “the hand that rocks the mabel” or whatever the ep was called

it takes dipper and mermando being threatened (and gideons voice slipping) for her to catch on and she breaks up w him

dipper wants to throw him overboard

they just leave him on the next inhabited island they find

mermando got his kiss but decides to go back to the ocean anyway

he promises to write

mabel is Sad

SO BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED ADVENTURE!

the twins come across a land near the one paz is on and decide to stop for food and to stretch their legs and other hygiene things

they find out there’s some archery thing going on and mabel is like ’ooooh can we try?!’

turns out its for neighboring kingdoms’ princes to win a princess

mabel and dipper think this is RIDICULOUS so they crash it

mabel steps up to shoot and everyone’s like ‘wHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?’

then dipper steps up beside her. neither of them have shot a bow before

they shoot at the same time. mabel’s like thisclose to the bullseye. dippers too far right

THEN!!! PRINCESS WENDY COMES OUT OF NOWHERE

DIPPER AND MABEL ARE IN AWE OF THIS VALKYRIE. THEYRE BOTH READY FOR HER TO KILL THEM BC THEY THINK ITLL BE AWESOME

but wendy is like ‘ACTUALLY ILL SHOOT FOR MYSELF THANKS’ and splits like three arrows down the middle w her accuracy

she looks at mabel and dipper and is like ‘u dudes look fun! ive never seen u before who are u???’

and they’re like ‘WELL!’ and launch into detail about their adventure w overlapping voices and sound affects and VAST description

anyways. i cant decide how old people are rn okay 

so wendy is like “hey dad??? im going on an adventure w these guys!” and her dad is like “unusual but u DID just win ur own hand. so ill allow it”

“YES! can i take soos too?!” 

“sure!”

sO THEYRE OFF AGAIN!!! lemme tell u the ship is filling faST!!!

they get to paz’s land. and the first thing they find is a girl in a tower with long purple hair.

everyone is pretty much just making ‘wtf’ faces for like....ten minutes.

finally wendy calls up the tower like “YO! WHATS W ALL THE HAIR?!”

tambry leans out the window w a bored expression and goes “its mine. im tambry. who r u?”

they introduce themselves and are like “u wanna come on our adventure?”

then....ROBBIE APPEARS!

and he knows where the princess is!!!

”oh yeah. her. shes also in a tower. its got a door but its guarded by gnomes.”

then robbie climbs tambrys hair pecks her cheek and ducks in the tower

they decide to head for the tower robbie directed them to. but they have to pass the castle. Northwest Castle

robbie warned them about the northwests. said that the princess was one and before she disappeared she was the snottiest brat hed ever met

so they became friends despite the fact that he plays music for a living (and not very well either)

her parents told her of the spell when she was twelve

so robbie’s like “they are not nice people and neither was she??? most of the townsfolk are glad shes asleep tbh”

but dammit! dipper came here for an adventure!!! he wasnt going to stop just bc the princess wasnt what he expected!

so they continue on!

mabel is like “maybe she doesnt KNOW how to be nice!”

and soos is just excited to be there!

and wendy is just...u kno...chill

they start to get close to the castle and they feel like they’re being watched

and then soos notices the PEACOCKS!

they assume theyre spies for the king and queen. which is half true?

they can also warn bill if someone is near pacifica

oh damn imagine that

being stuck asleep w a DREAM DEMON in ur head

sorry for the accidental psychological torture paz

WHICH IS THE ONLY TORTURE SHES HAD!

i think to make up for risking her life as a baby ther parents were like “we’re just gonna spoil u rotten and PRETEND u do no wrong eVERYTHING IS FINE”

so dipper is reading the journal and he FINALLY gets to the true loves kiss part of the deal

and he looks around at the party like “oh shit true love what do we do???”

mabel suggests he at least try and everyone agrees that yeah okay thats the back up plan

but dipper wants to use a SPELL!!!

so the king and queen see him w the journal and remember ford having the same one

so everyone is brought to the king and queen

theyre like “pRINCESS GWENDOLYN?!”

bc this is MY STORY and if i wanna give wendy a more princess-y name thEN I WILL

i say as i continue to refer to mason as DIPPER!!!

SO THEYRE MEETING THE NORTHWESTS!!!

wendys like “yes that is me the princess” and then everyone else introduces themselves...w dipper introducing himself as mason bc it just sounds more fairytale-y

soos is jesus (hey zeus! not jee sus)

soos is like....wendys bff/personal servant but mostly bff

so they explain their adventure to the northwests as quickly as possible

preston is no patient man and he’s is like “tbh its probably important she be here for her 18th bday soooo??? as long as she wakes up by next year why not???”

but only bc dipper was like “i wANNA USE MAGIC I DONT WANNA KISS HER THATS PLAN B!!!”

plus u kno...even if he DOES whats the guarantee itll work???

the guarantee is me being a filthy shipper tHATS WHAT!!!

so they continue to the tower!

there is probably a sidequest thingy with giffany bc i liked that episode

also soos needs more screentime im sorry

SO THEN!!! FINALLY!!!! THEY MAKE IT TO THE TOWER!!!

WHICH IS!!!

IN FACT!!!

GUARDED

BY

GNOMES!]

also theres a manotaur/multi-bear sidequest i just thought of bc i like THAT episode!!!

is this gf, a fairytale, sk.yrim, or a d.n.d campaign now??? WHO KNOWS!!! ITS NOT ME!!!

SO THEY GOTTA GET PAST THE GNOMES!

first they offer safe passage in exchange for mabel as their queen

after thats declined theyre like “or the redhead. well take her!”

this is also declined

finally jeff tells them to attack

at first the party tries to fight them off and they do okay

uNTIL SOME GNOME WEAPONIZED SCHMEBULOCKS RAINBOW PUKE!!! (i think it’s toxic tbh but i dONT REMEMBER)

finally mabel just pulls out her trusty crosSbow (aka “GRAPPLING HOOK!”) and they just make a tightrope to the window above the door

wendy goes first and NAILS it

then everyone else follows

soos almost falls and gets left to the gnomes but everyone helps him balance and they all make it through the window

coincidentally. the window leads to the princess’s room

OH MAN WHY DIDNT I USE THE PTERODACTYL?!

oh well. anyways.

everyone is looking around the room and like...taking it all in

dipper takes a moment...then walks over to the princess

he isnt sure if waking her will also wake the demon

crossover even more w my old paciphera au??? idk probably not

so dipper tries the spells he narrowed it down to

none of them work

all his friends have returned to the princess’s room and mabel is like “u gotta kiss her brobro!”

so dipper...poor poor dipper...just leans forward and kisses her

paz pretty much snaps her eyes open when dipper is a half inch from her face while he’s pulling back 

and even tho she was forewarned she wasnt expecting DIPPER so she SCREAMS

dippers ears are ringing

she shuts her eyes and stills her breathing and sits up.

AND SEES EVERYONE ELSE AND SCREAMS AGAIN

“i dIDNT EXPECT U TO BRING *FRIENDS*!”

so once shes a little more calm they explain the whole adventure to her

paz feels a little honored they came all this way just for her

also since True Love beats everything bill is like.....back in his home dimension. also paz has been fighting him for like....over a year.

so paz is like....ready to Go. u kno. just wants to go HOME.

they get pazs shit together and exit the tower through the door

she says goodbye to the gnomes. all by name.

“oh yeah mom and dad made them my personal guard when i was like...eight. theyve been prepping for this my whole life. they’ll meet me back at the castle.” so then she starts telling them about herself and her last like 

two years of being asleep w a DREAM DEMON

“sometimes i got the weirdest nightmares??? and they never ended. but when i woke up i couldnt remember anything specific.”

she and dipper talk away from the group. he tells her about how hes her true love and everything “okay well. we’ll have to lie to my parents and say it was a spell. bc they will NOT approve of us being true loves and if they hurt you...”

“then they hurt *you* too!” dipper finishes (idk maybe a combo w a soulmate au thing?)

meanwhile mabel is like...whining about boy problems??? and wendy is like “this is y boys r dumb.”

soos is like...wandering off. I WANNA INCORPORATE MELODY BUT WHO SHOULD SHE BE?!

paz and dipper start like....arguing about how to deal w her parents

apparently they actually ARENT that nice. if she doesnt marry a prince they’ll give her over to bill completely...or something idk

SO theyre nearing the castle!!!

theyve written theyre grunkles okay no worries. also mermando.

thats y mabels complaing about boys.

mermando and that manatee wife of his!!!

paz is not exactly ready to face her parents so she convinces the party (roll for charisma) to go the long way

which is actually just circles

anyways

we run back in to melody and soos and the party is like ‘wHOOPS WE DIDNT EVEN NOTICE GLAD U DIDNT GET EATEN BY A SPIDER LADY!

maybe melody is like....a fairy???

something light and ‘childish’ bc thatd fit her personality

soos is like “ive BEEN here. u dudes have been going in circles.” and everyone glares at paz.

“im sorry!!! i just dont want to go back!!!”

“ur dad made us promise to have u back for ur 18th bday.” says dipper while he tries to stay mad at his future wife

paz is like “YEAH SO HE CAN MARRY ME OFF TO A PRINCE!!!”

idk why paz and dips are being better at being soulmates here okay i was like....sleep-drunk when i first wrote this

so the party has a choice to make.

take paz back home where she wont be able to be w her TL (which in some cases has probably led to death) OR!!!

sneak her out and take her home w them?!

wendys probably gotta go back to her own kingdom tho.

and soos wants to stay w melody

U KNOW WHAT I JUST REALIZED?!

sTAN NEVER GOT TO BE SOOS’S DAD!!!!

SORRY SOOS!!!

so anyways

mabel and dipper decide to help her sneak out

luckily she knows all the blindspots

it takes longer but they finally make it back to their ship

they say theyre goodbyes to soos and melody and paz wishes them well in her kingdom. she promises to return when shes ready to rule

they load the ship and sail to wendys kingdom next

they stay a few days to recuperate

paz has trouble sleeping bc when she does the nightmares come back.

cue a kat.niss/pee.ta thing where paz sleeps next to dips bc it keeps the nightmares away

wendy has to explain why soos isnt w them to her dad who kinda shrugs it off?

“u proved u can protect urself.” or something.

after like.....a whole fucking year the twins are heading home.

paz and dipper sleep together on the ship too bc its just fucking easier

paz is nervous to meet the grunks

she and dipper arent exactly....dating??? its def more like soulmate au

where theyre AWARE theyre supposed to be together but they dont even rly know if they WANT to be together.

paz is p much “i dont rly wanna be w anyone else. ill let u kno if that changes.” and dips is like “tbh same.”

mabel is already planning a big royal wedding.

iDK Y BUT I WANT THEM TO FIND OUT THEYVE BEEN ROYALTY ALL THIS TIME??? probably just bc i LOVE that trope!!! but theyre not so its whateves.

so they FINALLY get home. mabel has been writing letters this whole time. to mermanso. to soos and melody. to wendy.

shes the captain of the dip.ifica ship and shes gotta keep her crewmembers in the know!!!

the twins also wrote to the grunks the whole time so!!!! no worries!!!

paz tries writing to her parents...but she can never find the right words.

meeting the grunks isnt as bad as she thought???

stan loves her off the bat. partially bc shes rich and bc she doesnt take shit

ford is pleased to meet the girl he saved and shes v v thankful to him for saving her life as best he could.

it takes her like a YEAR to write the letter.

she promises her parents she’ll return. AFTER shes married.

at this point she and dipper ARE together. they figured all theyre confusion out and are just living the good life!

mabel and wendy are doing the long distance thing. shes still friends w mermando.

robbie and tambry found paz and they write back and forth.

u CAN TAKE ROBBIE AND PAZ SIBLINGS FROM MY DECOMPOSING HANDS!!!

everything is as happily ever after as it can get.

and then dipper proposes despite knowing what it means.

BUT THATS A WHOLE OTHER ADVENTURE!!!!

*end credits roll. an epic theme song starts playing*