#that i made it work and historical --> royalty au

[disaster-writer]

Ethereous

Pairing: King!Trueform!Sukuna x Reader

Summary: While handing out sentences to criminals, you’re brought in to receive your punishment though King Sukuna has different plans to deal with your crime

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut, non-con, slight gore, Sukuna has two pp’s, double penetration, anal, squirting, hella size kink, suicidal thoughts, reader has long hair and is described as small in comparison to Trueform Sukuna

A/N: This is a royalty AU but don’t look too closely for any historical accuracies, this was mainly about the smut

“Next,” Sukuna demanded disinterestedly, cheek resting atop his fist as he reclined leisurely on his throne.

The guards were quick to drag in the next criminal.

”Kudo Yoshimi,” Uraume announced, just as disinterestedly as their King, “Found drunk and exposing himself to a group of young women.”

Sukuna barked out a laugh, getting a look at the old man that was chained and trembling in front of him, in a deep bow. “Thought you’d show them what you’re working with, eh?” Another chuckle bubbled from his throat, “Castrate him. Next.”

The old man lifted his head in a panic, ”But my King—“ Sukuna waved his hand and the man stopped speaking as his head was cleanly sliced from his neck. 

“Next.” The King of Curses demanded more firmly, watching his body crumble beneath him.

The guards quickly cleaned up the carnage as the next criminal was brought in.

Uraume spoke your name but little made it past the King’s ears as his eyes landed on the delicate creature that was brought in.

A sight for sore eyes, that was for sure.

Sukuna always did wonder why the criminals were rarely women, especially attractive women. It would have made these hearings so much more enjoyable.

He watched the guards force you into a kneel, bending you over and keeping your forehead firmly pressed into the ground.

The corner of Sukuna’s mouth quirked up. 

Curious.

”Step away from her.”

The guards did as commanded and Sukuna watched in rapt attention as you lifted your head and stared your King straight in his eye.

He hummed knowingly.

You wanted to die.

It came as no surprise to Uraume and the more seasoned guards when Sukuna made no move to kill you. His licentious nature was common knowledge, and here was a young, pretty thing being served up on a platter for the King.

Sukuna eyed you, drinking in every last inch and detail of you. 

You stood in a tattered, white nightgown caked and stained in aged blood. Hair unbound and cascading freely, much like the prostitutes he regularly found in the brothels. So delicate and fragile looking but with eyes as fierce and sharp as a blade.

You looked like a kitten with her fangs bared.

”And what has this little one done?”

”She murdered both her mother and father.”

”Hm.”

A silence thickened in the room as Sukuna mulled over his thoughts— so many ways to punish you with a crime like that.

Then there was also your lack of respect which deserved a different sentencing in and of itself.

”What do you think I should do to you, little one?”

He watched amusedly as your jaw ticked. 

“What you would do to any other peasant who committed the same crime.” You spat with such vitriol that the King was forced to admit:

He was impressed.

Grown men have trembled and cried in his presence before. He’s had nobles piss themselves from the fear he struck within their hearts.

”Do you crave death?”

”I have earned it.”

”And what if I were to tell you,” Sukuna shifted in his seat, giving you his complete undivided attention as he leaned forward in interest, “I had a different punishment in mind.”

Ah, there it was.

A slight furrow to your brow, eyes flashing with unease. 

Only for it to disappear.

”Strip her,” he commanded the guards, “I would like to see this beauty unclothed.” 

Your gaze had hardened further, mouth pursing into a little pout as two guards flanked you, hauling you back up to your feet.

Sukuna grinned mockingly at you, reveling in the fact you refused to break his gaze as you stood firmly on your feet all the while the guards stripped you of your nightgown and undergarments. 

The King had been the first one to break, tearing his eyes away from yours in favor of gazing upon your nude figure.

You really were a sight for sore eyes. He eyed your curves, dipped and rounded in all the right places. Particularly liking the plush of your thighs. Nipples stood stiff, pebbled in the cool air, breasts rising and falling with each of your breaths. A patch of hair hid your womanhood from his prying eyes— but no matter, once he had you in his bedchambers every part of you was sure to be bared.

In another life you could have been royalty with looks like those, he was sure. Or perhaps you could have been something else all together. 

You could have been one of those seductresses the fairytales so often warned about, luring both boys and men to their deaths.

But instead you had been born to a lowly peasant family.

Lucky him.

The King of Curses stood up from his throne and closed the distance that separated him from his new object of interest.

He towered over you in both height and width. You had to jut your chin upwards just to look him in the eyes.

He had crossed one pair of arms across his chest while a third hand took a lock of hair between his fingers. 

“Where was she found?” Sukuna asked.

”In her home on the outskirts of the city.”

”The outskirts, hm?” He hummed, gripping your chin and angling your head every which way to get a good look at you. “The poorest of the poor. You must have been a real gem all the way out there. Tell me, little one, how many suitors do you have?”

You didn’t answer.

“More than two?”

“… Yes.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest at your reply.

”Are you a prostitute?”

You sneered at the King, “I would have killed myself before I was that desperate.”

It seemed he had touched a nerve.

”And why is that? You could have turned a pretty coin by working in a brothel. Would have given you buckets of gold if I ever stumbled upon a delicate thing such as yourself.”

“I would rather become a penniless old maid before letting monsters like you touch me,” you spat.

He laughed loudly at your words. “Must have been nice to have a choice, murderess.” He took a step back, “Take her to my chambers,” he commanded, turning back around and making his way to his throne once again. “Let’s finish these hearings quickly. Next.”

—

The pattering of rain existed in the far distance as the King of Curses gazed upon you within the quiet, dimmed room.

You kneeled on his bed, head cast down since he had stepped inside and dismissed the guards. 

Perhaps you regretted not showing him the proper respect earlier.

He did wish you’d look at him now, standing completely bare before you, both of his thick cocks hanging heavy and hard all on display just for you after having shed his robe the moment he saw your naked form once more.

Gooseflesh pimpled along your skin— you must have been freezing in his cold chambers for the few hours you had waited. He bet those lovely perky buds of yours were still stiff and hard as they were earlier, shame he couldn’t tell as you hid your nakedness the best you could behind your hair. 

“You refuse to look upon me now little one?”

You shrunk further in on yourself at the low, gravelly timbre of his voice.

”Why not kill me?” 

“Now why would I do that?” He hummed, reaching a hand out and capturing a lock of hair once more.

”Everyone said you would,” you breathed out, hands fisting against your thighs.

”You should be grateful,” he tugged lightly on your hair, “A beauty like you shouldn’t die so young.”

You sniffled— it made his cocks twitch, listening to your suffering.

”You’re letting me live… because I’m pretty?” 

“Is that not the answer you desired?”

”You would have sentenced anyone else to death. I should be no different— I’ve earned it.”

He sighed, dropping the lock of hair. Your mind seemed to be a whirlwind at the moment, concerning yourself with things he quite frankly didn’t give two shits about.

”Beauty is a currency, little one. And you have overpaid your toll.” He kneeled against the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His finger slipped beneath your chin, jutting it upwards.

Your eyes locked with his. Watery and vulnerable, lashes clumping together with your tears. It was such a stark difference from earlier that it stole his breath. “Overpaid indeed.”

He sealed his lips against yours, claiming your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue, pushing you backwards into the plush bedding beneath you.

You whimpered, the sweet little sound being swallowed by the King.

You didn’t fight or struggle against him to which he found both shocking and pleasing, but you didn’t participate either. You simply allowed him to lick into your mouth and nip at your lips.

He pulled away slightly, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his grin as one hand stroked your cheek and another pair maneuvered your legs around his waist.

”Are you a virgin, little one?”

You tore your gaze away from him, features blank, hiding any emotion you had dared to show him just minutes before.

”No.”

”And who did you give it to? One of your many suitors?”

”It was stolen from me. I apologize, my King, but you are hardly the first man to rape me.” You spat bitterly.

He hummed, a soft chuckle of sorts as his long, pointed thumbnail traced beneath your eye. “But I’m sure to be the last.”

You shrieked, losing your composure at the sensation suddenly felt between your legs. You grasped at the bed sheets, looking to Sukuna for an answer.

”Don’t tell me you are unaware of the rumors?” He taunted.

Your eyes widened at the implication as the feeling of a large moistened tongue lapped between your folds, another strangled cry releasing from your lips.

If that one was true, then—

You attempted to look down, but his manhood had been hidden by the ruffled bed sheets. ”Does that mean?”

“All in due time, little one.”

Your head fell back into the soft pillows, softer than any pillow you had laid your head upon, but unable to appreciate it in it’s fullness as the wet muscle nestled between your legs laved over your clit.

You chewed at your bottom lip, attempting to hold back your wanton moans. 

“Tell me,” he hummed, sucking bruises along your unblemished neck, “Why did you do it?”

You didn’t answer—couldn’t- not while his second mouth worked against you as all four of his hands grasped and kneaded any and all exposed flesh they could reach.

It was— dizzying.

”I’ve asked you a question,” he stated firmly, nipping at your neck.

You opened your mouth to provide an answer but an unrestrained moan tumbled free instead as he began to suck on your clit. The sensation stealing the breath from your lungs.

You blinked quickly in an attempt to stifle your tears.

It shouldn’t feel good.

“You don’t want to anger me little one.” He murmured warningly.

”They— mmh, they sold me too— ah- a brothel!” You choked out, before biting into your lip once more, tasting blood on your tongue.

”And you found death preferable to that fate,” he hummed in understanding.

The irony was not lost on either of you.

You were such a delicate little thing beneath him, being dwarfed deliciously by him. Sukuna found it quite the mystery as to how you weren’t eaten up sooner.

He liked how desperately you tried to hold back your cries, and he’d entertain you in that venture for now.

But he would break you by the time he was through with you tonight. He was sure to have you in tears, moaning freely as you took his cocks.

But this little game was entertaining as well.

You began to pant like a bitch in heat as he continued to suck and flick at your clit, a sheen of sweat now layering your skin. Hips twitching against his abdomen, if it wasn’t for the firm hold he had on you he was sure you’d be halfway up the headboard by now.

His gaze travelled down the length of your neck before landing on your breasts. Little buds just as stiff as he remembered.

He dipped a head down, latching onto the pert nipple and sucking on it with a groan against your chest.

He continued his ministrations, not necessarily working you towards an end, pulling back every time you were close to cumming. You didn’t understand why he was drawing this out longer than it had to be.

Your breath hitched at what followed. The wet muscle between your legs licked lower and lower—

“What are you— AH!” Your eyes flew open, entire body going stiff as a board, trying in vain to pull away from his tongue as he licked over your puckered rim. “Why there—!?” You exclaimed, hands releasing the bed sheets as you tried to push him away.

He chuckled lowly, as you yelped once more while he began to press the tip of the muscle inside, past the fluttering hole. He released your nipple with a wet smack, grinning “Gotta get her ready too~” he lilted, taunted, admiring how your face screwed up in panic at the unfamiliar sensation.

He watched as the realization dawned on you and real, tangible fear flooded your features. 

“No, I don’t— I can’t do that-“

”Of course you can, little one.” He stroked your hair, voice dripping in patronization. “You have two precious little holes down there and I have all the time in the world to stretch them open for me.”

You couldn’t hold the tears back this time, letting them paint your face in shiny trails only for Sukuna to lick them up before shoving his tongue back into your mouth.

You trembled beneath him as he spent a cruel amount of time playing with you, stretching you open. Bringing you to the brink of an orgasm and taking it away just as quickly.

This was what madness felt like.

You were sure of it.

You were caught in a daze, time had become nonexistent, trying and failing to hang onto any of your senses. 

But they were all flooded and overwhelmed by him.

You hardly recognized the feeling of a cock stroking through your folds after what felt like hours of only his mouth until the thick tip breached your entrance.

Your glassy eyes found his. 

He groaned softly with a breath as he slowly pushed in an inch of his throbbing cock, captivated by you once more— caught under some sort of spell that any weaker man would have crumbled under. “You have,” he breathed, cupping your jaw and once again stroking his thumbnail beneath your eye, “The most bewitching eyes— how many men have fallen to their demise under your power?” He lowered his face to yours, trailing a nose along your cheek.

”Power?” You sniffled, staring off behind him, “This isn’t power.”

”Hm,” he hummed, pressing another inch into you, listening to the prettiest whimper get caught in your throat. “It’s a power you haven’t learned to use properly. Like a child who has been handed a sword but never taught how to wield. Born in a better situation, you would have figured out how to make men kill for you— a cleverer woman would have never had to kill her parents by her own hand.”

Your face screwed up in discomfort, breath catching as a hand began guiding his second cock into your other hole.

You gnawed on your lip, digging your nails into his arms as you tried to mull over his words. “B-beauty— ngh— is a curse.” You gasped out at the incredibly large and painful stretch both his cocks had inflicted.

His grin widened, teeth poking out, “Exactly.”

In one slow yet fluid motion he pushed into your cunt and ass.

Your back arched, body going stiff once more as you clung to him for stability. Your breath caught in your throat struggling to breathe through this inconceivable sensation. 

You had never been so full, stretched so wide you were convinced he’d tear you in two if he began fucking you— he was too big, too much.

You trembled like a leaf beneath his much larger and opposing frame, a fresh wave of tears pricking, stinging at your eyes.

It hurt.

You tilted your head, nose bumping against his own. Your eyes, the eyes he seemed to be going mad over, searched his desperately. ”My King— please, I can’t. Please show me mercy.”

A chuckle bubbled up in his throat as he grinned amusedly as you. His lower pair of arms grasped you by the back of your thighs and pushed them upwards, pressing them into your tits.

You were nothing more than a rag doll to him and the idea that he thought you possessed any sort of power tasted bitter on the back of your tongue.

”And why…” He began, sitting back up, now staring at where is two cocks disappeared into your tight holes with a rumble of delight deep within his chest, “…would I do that, murderess?”

He provided little warning before reeling his hips back and pushing back in with a forceful thrust that had any sort of control you had over your own vocal cords disappear as you cried on his cocks.

It was only fitting, you supposed, that the punishment for your crime was to have the King of Curses himself fuck you into unconsciousness.

You’ve heard stories of his concubines while growing up. He has had countless of them but none lasting more than a year before he was ultimately finished with them, slicing them up after cumming in them for the last time.

You would not allow yourself to succumb to the same fate.

The wet slaps of skin smacking against skin mixed with his grunts and your uncontrollable yelps made you want to curl up, the repetitive filthy sounds making you sick.

Why couldn’t he have just killed you.

”I think you might just be the tightest and prettiest little thing I’ve ever stuck my cocks into,” he growled, driving his hips harder against yours, forcing a broken sob free from your lips, body jolting upwards with each of his thrusts, “A goddess for my own pleasure.”

”G-goddesses are— hngh— worshipped!” You choked out.

”Is this not worshipping?” He grunted, pressing your thighs further into your chest, leaning his weight into you and speeding up his thrusts. “I believe if you saw how I treated my concubines, you’d think this was the highest form of worship.” 

You didn’t know what to say, not that you even could as he forced out higher and higher pitched whimpers and cries from your lips.

”How did you kill them, little one? C’mon, hah— tell me,” he growled, suddenly lifting your legs and putting you into a mating press— mounting you like a beast.

”I— hm!” You choked as one of his hands winded between your legs and played with your clit, rolling it beneath the pad of his thumb. His face was close to yours once more, sharp gaze searching your tearful one. “We— ah— w-we had an ax!” 

The King quirked an eyebrow in interest, the idea of you lifting and swinging an ax hard enough to kill your own parents amused him. You would have had to hit them more than once, no doubt.

He found the image of you standing above your parents, holding an ax, covered in their blood startlingly arousing.

Perhaps he’d hunt down the men that had raped you in the past and watch you kill them yourself before he fucked you… or perhaps he’d make them watch him fuck you first before having you kill them. 

His mind reeled with the possibilities.

“A goddess indeed.”

He continued his brutal thrusts into you, the stretch still feeling wildly unnatural even as some of the pain subsided. 

You were close.

And you hated it.

You screwed your eyes shut as both holes fluttered and clenched around his cocks, only forcing Sukuna to grow rougher with you, which in turn drove you closer to your end.

And this time he didn’t pull your orgasm away from you as he did when he used his tongue, instead he found you teetering along the edge of oblivion and pushed you off without hesitation.

The air was knocked out of you, causing your back to arch almost inhumanly so as your vision went stark white. Your cunt clenched around him like a vice, barely registering the wet splashes that escaped you and hit your skin.

He fucked you like an animal during your seemingly endless fall. He groaned out curses and praises about your cunt, repeating over and over again how the gods he hadn’t believed in sent him a goddess to play with— to worship in his own sick way.

His own orgasm hit him harder than any jujutsu technique ever had.

You were better than any of his concubines— milking him like he had never cum before, strings of white painting your womb and he had even entertained the thought of his very own brat growing within you, knocking up a goddess.

Your power was unmatched.

He had crushed you beneath his weight after his orgasm subsided, never having felt so weak in his life. 

The idea was unthinkable— The King of Curses weak.

”What are you, little one?” He whispered breathlessly against your neck.

His tone had taken you aback even within the hazy daze your mind was caught up in, he sounded so reverent. 

“‘M nothing b-but a peasant… with a pretty face,” you panted.

”Hm,” he hummed, breathing against your neck. “If I find you were sent to distract me… I will cut you down without hesitation.”

Your breath had caught in your throat. “You’ll only be giving me what I want.”

”A goddess who is a murderess… and craves death herself,” he dragged his nose along your neck, moving upwards until his lips caressed your ear, “Perhaps you are even fit to be my Queen.”

You stared at the canopy above you, absorbing his words. What you had said next had only earned you a patronizing chuckle and a kiss to your neck.

”Perhaps I’ll just kill myself then.”

[changbunnies]

Aurora (18+)

♡ Pairing: Prince!Felix x Duke's Daughter!Reader

♡ Genre: light angst, fluff, arranged marriage au, royalty au, historical au, one sided pining to eventual mutual pining, slow burn-ish ??, eventual smut

♡ Word Count: 21.8k

♡ Summary: Y/N, a duke’s daughter in the southern territories of Miroh, is promised to crown prince Felix in the north in the hopes that the dueling territories will reach peace. Yet, despite how much she initially loathes the idea of being married and away from her family, she can’t help but fall in love with the prince she was promised to.

♡ Warnings: outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, felix is nothing but sweet but it takes the reader time to trust him, attempted cheating (not from reader or felix, you'll see), 1 mention of having children, kind of possesive felix? but not too much, i think that's it but lmk if i missed something!

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): felix calls reader "my love" (yes this needs a warning), so much kissing!! so many "i love you's!!" (a changbunnies smut staple), reader and felix are virgins, nipple play, oral (f + m receiving), handjob, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie

♡ Notes: you can also read the story on my ao3 where it is divded into chapters here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You knew well the day would come where you would be married off to a family looking to expand their power. You knew that you would have to leave behind all things you found familiar and comfortable to live in your husband’s estate.

You knew that your responsibilities as a nobleman’s daughter would catch up with you sooner rather than later. And despite knowing all these things in your mind, your heart had not felt prepared for the reality of your fate in the slightest. 

Your night was spent in a grand ceremony of music and laughter as two families, one yours and the other your now husband’s, as well as commoners from all over the bustling town you would now call home, celebrated your new union. You were now Lee Y/N, wife to the northern king’s one and only son, Felix.

And while there was high likelihood that Felix would not sit on the throne for decades, the choice of who would become his wife was still something that had to be decided with the utmost care in the event that an unexpected tragedy befell his father. 

Though you were not a princess, you were the eldest daughter of a grand duke. You were raised in elegance and novelty that most would never have the privilege of living in. You were also graceful, well mannered, and adored by your father’s people in the south, which was something the king valued when seeking out the ideal partner for his only heir. And with your union to the prince now solidified, the country was ever closer to a more unified and prosperous existence. 

The ceremony itself consisted of fake smiles you had long practiced from a young age; a mask of joy and grace to hide your inner tumultuous feelings. When the celebrations had come to a close, and the time came to bid your farewells to your family as they made the long journey back home to the south, you did your best to hold back the tears and see them off with a smile.

You played the role you had been taught by your elders well, giving polite words of parting to the commoners who made it the ceremony and maintaining an elegant air around the royal family that you were now a part of. Felix let out a relieved sigh when the last of the guests departed, turning to you, his now wife, with a gentle smile afterwards.

“Shall we retire for the night as well?” he asks as he holds out his arm, clearly offering it to be linked with yours. You accept the offer easily, deciding that if anyone saw you reject your husband on such an offer it would reflect badly on your family’s manners. The last thing you needed were rumors to circulate about your parents ‘not raising you right.’ 

“I hope you’re not too ill at ease,” he says as you exit the ballroom together, “meeting your betrothed on the same day as your ceremony is quite a shock.” He’s certainly not wrong about that; it was easily the greatest shock of your life. In fact, you spent much of your month-long journey to the northern lands in denial, utterly convinced it must be a falsehood, or some manner of prolonged bad dream you would surely wake from. 

Only on your arrival in the morning, when you had finally seen the royal castle with your own eyes and met your suitor and his family face to face, did your reality smack you squarely in the face. The truth of things could no longer be rejected; you were going to be married this evening whether you wished it so or not. You were left with no choice but to conform in that very moment, to accept your fate for what it is. 

“Yes, it took me no small measure of adjustment, but I am grateful that you and your family have spared no effort in accomodating me.” You offered a kind word– after all, it was no lie that his family were much kinder people than you had expected them to be.

Once you reached the age of maturity, your family received countless marital requests from various suitors, many of whom were vile men beneath a mask of sincerity. You had watched your cousins marry into many such families, and found yourself dreading the day it would happen to you as well. 

While it was undoubtedly unfortunate that you were forced into a marriage, the fact that Felix and his family seemed to hold genuine kindness in their hearts made you quite lucky. However, your luck being better than most did not mean you were happy about any of this.

Sure, the fact that you weren’t wed to a boorish man who felt the need to treat you like an object was a good thing, but that didn’t change that the freedom of choice was stripped away from you. You should feel relief that Felix seems to be a sweet person, or some sort of joy that your new family is seemingly considerate and caring, but you don’t.

What you feel instead is.. Well, you aren’t quite sure what name to put to the feeling, though dread felt the closest. Yes, you felt a looming dread over knowing that this was your life now, and you were never, and will never, be given a choice for something different. 

“If there is anything at all I can do to help you in this transition, I ask that you do not hesitate to tell me.” Felix’s voice, while still much deeper than you had anticipated it to be, was soft and kind as he made the offer.

You could feel a hint of guilt for not appreciating such a thing as much you knew you should– he’s obviously trying his hardest to be kind to you, and despite that you’re just.. Unhappy. There was no other way to put it. 

“I will, thank you,” you reply in your perfectly rehearsed well-mannered tone. You may hate the situation you’re in, but you won’t take it out on him. After all, he likely didn’t have a choice in this matter either, and he’s been nothing but sweet and accommodating to you thus far. As much as the rebellious part of your brain wishes to kick and scream and throw a tantrum, you don’t want to do anything that would hurt or reflect badly on your new husband. 

“This is my– well, our, room,” He says as you approach two large, ornate doors, decorated with a wood carving of the royal family’s emblem standing proudly in the center: two soldiers mirroring each other with swords raised skyward, and a beautiful, intricately drawn phoenix beholden in the center. “We can enter if you wish, but I do not intend to force you to lie with me when you are not yet comfortable being next to me.” 

“Truly? Is such a thing alright?” You nearly exclaim, unable to disguise the surprise in your voice at his statement. Felix smiles in the same sweet manner he has all night as he answers, “Of course! I know it’s.. Customary for newlyweds to lie together right away, but I have no desire to force you into an uncomfortable situation. And well.. I do hope that we’ll share a bed in the future, but I am more than willing to wait until you are ready.” 

You felt truly taken aback as you stared at him. Sad to say, you half expected his tune to change once the two of you were alone. You'd heard many awful tales of men who are sweet and doting in the eye of the public, but change the moment they are behind closed doors, their true natures and selfish desires exposing themselves once there is no one they have to impress or keep up appearances for.

And also sad to say, it wouldn't have surprised you if the crown prince was one of those awful men; men in positions of power love to flaunt and make use of it, flashing their wealth and their status and forcing those beneath them into submission. You were lucky that in your father's lands in the south, you had enough status to prevent those men from harming you explicitly. 

But here you were, in a forgein land, married to a man who was second only to his father, the king. A man who held substantial power over you in every regard now that you were wed, but was giving you the freedom of choice.

And then there was the statement that followed– he wants to lie with you, would likely be pleased if you did so this very night, but is willing to wait until you want to of your own regard. It's possible he is simply a smooth talker, years of diplomatic lessons and high social status turning him into a charasmatic liar, an effortless charmer. 

Was it in his true character to treat women with such consideration, or were you an exception until he got you where he wanted you? Did he sincerely view you are more than an object to be had, or was he going to play the long game, waiting until the moment you lower your guard and become comfortable to strike?

Regardless of the answer, you feel truly thankful in the moment. You've had a whirlwind of emotions today, and not needing to immediately lie with your new husband takes an immense weight of your weary shoulders. You're happy to have the space to decompress alone in your own private space offered to you. 

“The maid’s have prepared a room for you further down the hall. Shall I take you?” he asks, the sweet smile having not at all faded. You hesitate a moment before you nod, not wishing to offend him should you appear too eager or if this part of a game he wishes to play, using your vulnerability as a pawn. “Yes, please.”

“Very well,” he replies as he leads you further past the room that you are supposed to share together. The walk down the hall is rather quick, ending just a few yards away from your starting point. “I hope you don’t mind, I wanted your room to be in proximity to mine in case you have need of me,” he clarifies as you approach the door to what will be your bedroom for the foreseeable future. 

“Truthfully, it’s more than I was expecting. I appreciate it,” you smile your first genuine one of the night, truly relieved to not have to share a bed with a relative stranger right away, and to have the space you need to process what your life will be like from this night onward. Felix unlinks your joined arms and opens the door for you to enter, his apparant kindness unfaltering. 

The moment you step inside your new room, you are in awe. Even for what is likely a small guest room, it’s still much larger than your bedroom back at your family’s modest estate. The furniture is well crafted and beautifully adorned in gentle blue and white shades. In the corner of the room, you see that your belongings from home have been neatly placed, with essentials on top and personal comforts at the bottom.

This surprised you most of all; not only was he kind enough to prepare a separate room for you, but he had all your belongings brought here ahead of time, as if he already knew this would be your answer. 

Behind you, Felix stands in the doorway, having not followed you into the room. He wore an expression of anxious anticipation, waiting to hear what you thought of where you’d be sleeping. He was as patient as he possibly could be, hoping silently that whatever opinion you held would be positive. He truly wanted you to feel safe and comfortable here, so that one day you could grow to have a genuine connection with him. 

When you turned back towards him, your soft smile made the anxiety welling within his breast wash away in an instant. “It’s to your liking?” he asks, and you respond with a nod. “It’s lovely, thank you.”

Truthfully, you felt another tinge of guilt for doubting his pure intentions just moments prior. The way relief instantly washed over his face was a clear indicator that he was truly trying his best to make you comfortable. 

“Ah, I’m relieved to hear that!” Felix holds his hand over his heart, as if it had just been racing in his chest; and to be fair, perhaps it was– he did seem genuinely considerate in all his actions, and he must’ve been nervous up to this point. “Before I go, should I call some maids to help you remove your gown? It looks rather intricate, so..”

Felix’s observation wasn’t wrong; getting your wedding gown on early this afternoon required the help of your mother, sister, and many others, and you didn’t feel you’d be able to remove everything on your own. 

So, you gave your approval to receive the maid’s help, and Felix nods, “I’ll alert them quickly so you can get your rest soon. Knights will also be posted in front of your room at all times starting now, and maids will come to your room routinely, so please notify them if anything is needed urgently.”

He was about to turn to leave but stops, hesitantly meeting your eyes one last time before he departs. “Uhm– good night, I’ll see you tomorrow.” His smile was bashful, and you found his subtle, soft change in demeanor oddly endearing.

While you were still very much uneasy about being in this place, and had your issues with being married, it’d be a lie to say that Felix’s earnest efforts to make you happy and comfortable weren’t helpful, and that maybe with him as your husband, you could be happy someday. 

You groan as you are wrestled from sleep by a quick succession of knocks on your door; not urgent in any way, but loud enough to rouse you out of the pleasant dream you were having. Groggily, you stand from your bed, rubbing your eyes as you step toward the door.

You open it slowly, and come to see Felix standing before you with a tray of various foods in hand. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I brought you breakfast. May I come in?” You nod and step to the side to allow him entry, letting your assigned guards close the door behind him.

“The maids said they couldn’t wake you, so I decided to give it a try at my first available moment,” he explains as he sets the tray down on your bed. “I’m still unsure of your preferences, so I got a little of everything. I hope there’s something here you enjoy.” 

It has been just a few weeks since you officially became a member of the royal family and Felix’s wife, but you still often found yourself being taken aback by just how thoughtful and earnest he was towards you.

He seemed to have even the little things in mind when trying to accommodate you, and you often found yourself unsure on how to react to such kindness. In the end, you settle for a simple thank you as you climb back to your spot in bed to eat under the comfort of the blanket. 

“When you’re finished, I would like to take you on a tour of the castle if you’re not opposed. I believe getting familiar with your surroundings will aid in your adjustment,” he says, watching you carefully for any change in expression. It is true that since your arrival, you’ve spent most of your time holed up in your room, not coming out unless there was need for it. 

And though you were perfectly content to continue to do so, you could understand how it would become a problem, not just for Felix but for yourself as well. You can’t spend the rest of your days hiding away in your guest room, and you won’t adjust to your new life any easier if you don’t at least try to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. 

Besides all that, Felix has been incredibly sweet and patient thus far. You owe it to him to try, at the very least. His face lights up when you give your agreement, an earnest delight painting his face. You weren’t sure why he was so eager to offer you comfort, or why he always seemed so happy when you returned his smiles, but that pleasant quality of his was undeniably helpful in easing the ache in your heart. 

"I still have some things to take care of with my father before we begin, so take your time finishing your breakfast and getting ready. I'll be back later," he continues to smile as he stands, seemingly excited about what the afternoon will hold for you (and he is excited! There is so much to show you, and he hopes you love everything the castle has to offer.)

Your maids enter the room shortly after Felix departs, ready to help you with whatever you may need, and to begin tidying up once you've finished eating. You're not sure how long Felix will be, so you follow his advice to take your time, leisurely eating your breakfast and making small talk with the maids as you do.

You were nervous to speak with them your first few days here, unsure of what sort of dynamic they had with the royal family, but you all warmed up to eachother rather quickly. They were kind, playful but still professional, and the ones around your age were especially excitable when it came to the prospect of gossip and dressing up. 

Even when you weren't interjecting into conversation, you enjoyed listening to them talk about romance, what they think of the working men in town, what dresses they plan to buy with their savings and what they'll do when they have a free night to spend out. You especially liked to listen to them talk about Felix.

Some of them had been here for years, and they knew much about him that you hadn't come to learn yet. It seemed that he'd always been sweet and kind, gentle and shy as a boy, but grew more confident with age and experience. Despite that, according to them, there were still many times where you could catch him becoming pink in the face, shyness blooming over it the way it had when he was still small. 

It made you curious– what did Felix look like when he was shy? You were sure he must be beautiful; you're not blind after all, you can clearly see that the man you married is handsome beyond what words could describe. Being against an arranged marriage is completely seperate from recognizing that the man you were promised to looks like he was sculpted straight from God's own hands.

But it takes more than beauty for you to have feelings for someone, and that's why you liked hearing the tales of his youth, moments that reflected that the Felix you met is the genuine him, no tricks and no falsehoods. And maybe one day, you would see him be shy, and seeing it would spark feelings in your gut that you hadn't felt since the time you were a child with your first crush. 

“Are you ready to begin the tour?” Felix smiles brightly as he holds out his arm for you the same way he had on the night of your marriage. You had just finished taming your hair and tying half of it behind you with a ribbon when he arrived back at your room, free of whatever his duties were and ready to dedicate the rest of his afternoon to you.

When you first stepped out, Felix’s timid stare didn’t go unnoticed by the maids, who insisted on helping you despite being told you were capable of getting ready on your own. 

You chose a simple, muted yellow gown with white trim accents to wear from the clothes you brought with you from home. It was one of your favorite dresses to wear casually as it was light, airy, and easy to walk in. You had no plans to do anything extravagant, but your assigned maids insisted on you wearing at least some jewelry, so you let them place a pearl necklace on you with dainty earrings to match. 

And so, the maids secretly beamed with delight at Felix’s reaction to your appearance (though it wasn’t their added accessories that caught his attention in the first place; it was simply you.) “I’m ready, thank you,” you say as you accept his invitation to link your arms together.

Felix shifts his gaze from you to the maids, giving them instructions to finish tidying your room while the two of you are out. They bow politely, getting straight to work on cleaning as you step out of your room, and you can hear their soft, delighted giggles even as you are led down the hall. 

The tour started about as you expected, with Felix leading you from room to room and stating simple facts such as 'this is where my older sister and her husband sleep’ or ‘this is the hall where your family will stay when they next visit’ and so on.

Typically, daughters move out of their family homes upon being wed, their entire purpose to give their husband’s family a successful lineage and ideal heir, but you suppose a special exception is made when you’re part of the royal family. You wonder how different your life would be if the expectation to leave your family behind wasn’t placed upon you from birth. 

He has a younger sister as well, one who has yet to be wed and who you met only briefly, but you wonder if she’ll be allowed to live in the castle as well when her time comes, if her husband’s family will have guest rooms just as yours will, and if she’ll have the luxury to stay in the place she’s familiar and comfortable for her entire life.

You know his sisters aren’t much different from you, really. Women often don’t have freedom of choice, and you especially doubt the princesses ever get a say in what comes next for them (even if the king and queen are caring people), but at least they still have their home, and their family right there with them. 

You were envious of that; you missed your home and your family so much. Would there ever be a day where you could see the place you grew up in again? How much older would your family be the next time you saw them?

Your younger sister, who was still small and naive– how different would she be? How much taller, how much more mature? It saddened you to think about, and you had to consciously make an effort to not think about it any further, and focus instead on the things Felix was showing to you. 

He skips past the dining hall and ballroom since you’ve already become well acquainted with them from the wedding ceremony, and instead brings you to the royal library as your next stop. It was an understatement to say it was gorgeous, but you could find no words to do it justice.

It was the largest library you’d ever seen, equipped with grand staircases and beautiful handcrafted spandrels carved into the arches. The bookshelves reached up the ceilings and covered every wall, apart from the back section where large ornate windows filtered in sunlight from the gardens outside (which Felix assured you that you’d be seeing soon.) 

“This is incredible, I’ve never seen such an impressive library!” you practically beam, unable to hide your excitement at the impressive collection of books. You’ve always been a fan of literature, spending countless hours losing yourself in fantasy worlds and star-crossed romances.

“I could spend all my days here and still not read everything,” you muse with a smile as you wind your way through various bookshelves, taking note of every title that peaks your interest. 

“With such an extensive collection, there’s bound to be something that suits your tastes,” he says with a smile of his own as he follows you through the winding path of bookcases, “feel free to grab anything you’d like! You are allowed to take from the library as you please.”

Oh, you intend on doing just that. You suppose you should start with just a few for now though; the library isn’t going anywhere after all, and neither are you. 

It takes some time, but you eventually decide on a handful books to bring back to your room first, mostly fantasy romance titles (because how can you resist the call of your favorite genre?) Felix, who had been watching fondly as you made your selections, quickly instructs a nearby maid to bring your selections back to your room before asking if you’re ready for the tour of the castle to resume. 

In much higher spirits than when you began, you happily link your arms with Felix again, eager to see what else the castle has to offer you. There’s not much more for you to see on the inside; you’re briefly shown the knight’s barracks and the maid’s quarters, as well as the informal living space his family prefers to relax together in when they have the time. (It’s still extremely elegant and beautiful for an “informal” space, but you digress– they’re royalty, after all.) 

He leads you to the gardens next, which until now you had only seen briefly from the windows, and wow, is it more stunning when actually in front of you than you ever would have believed. All the flowers and hedges are well maintained and vibrant in color, a cobblestone path laid before you and winding around the garden carefully, lattice fence work protecting the flowers in the back and maintaining the border. 

There’s ponds littered about, the cleanest and bluest you’d ever seen, the fish inside clearly visible even at a distance. In the center lies a beautiful marble fountain, with large, meticulously detailed sculptures of what you assume to be a goddess to adorn the surroundings.

It’s all utterly breathtaking, beyond anything you’d ever seen at home in the south. As you reach the end of the cobblestone path, there lies an iron wrought gazebo with matching seating and a table beneath, right in the center. 

Felix unlinks your arms and steps up first, holding his hand out to you to accept as you proceed carefully up the few steps up to the gazebo. He pulls a chair out for you, smiling when you accept the seat and then takes his own seat directly across from you. There’s still a chill in the air, as spring has only just begun to set in the north, but the sunlight that filters through the iron keeps you sufficiently warm.

“Would you like some tea? You must be tired after all the walking we’ve done,” Felix asks after he’s gotten more comfortable in his seat, the iron cold at first but warming up quickly due to his own body heat.

“That’d be lovely,” you answer sincerely, and he smiles again, looking around quickly for any nearby attendants he can call to assist the two of you. Within minutes you are provided with fresh tea, as well as a handful of biscuit style cookies, and you thank the maids for their quick work as warmly as you can.

“It’s been so long since I last walked the entirety of the castle grounds, I’d forgotten how tiring it is,” Felix sighs after he takes a sip of his tea, seemingly unphased by the high temperature of it. You on the other hand are snacking on the cookies you’d been provided as you wait for the tea to cool, having no desire to scorch your tongue and potentially embarrass yourself in front of your husband. 

“Yes, I can’t imagine doing it daily. The maids certainly have their work cut out for them,” you empathize, truly hoping they feel appreciated for all the work they’ve done for you thus far, and have done for what you imagine to be decades for some of them. You didn’t have much help on your family’s estate back home, as it was much less grand in comparison to the splendor of the castle you now live in. 

The moments that follow are serene; you listen to Felix talk about various things pertaining to the castle as you sip your tea, including stories of how he used to get lost as a child and always needed someone's help to get back to where he needed to be. You laughed once, when he told you about a time he got stuck in a utility closet and cried until he was discovered by a maid, who had to spend several minutes calming him down before carrying him back to his room. 

It was a cute story, and you couldn’t help but giggle from how he dramatically explained the darkness that encompassed him, and how terrified 7 year old Felix was at that moment. You were worried for a moment after that it’d seem like you were laughing at him and not with him, but the way he smiled at you after he heard your laugh told you he was perfectly happy with your reaction. 

It was the first time he heard you laugh since you arrived– genuinely laugh, and he liked it. It made him feel warm, and gave him hope that you were finally starting to feel comfortable around him. He’d never hurt you, and he hoped that as you grew closer to him, you could genuinely love him one day. That’s all he wants really; to love the person he’s married to, and be loved in return. 

He’s seen it happen before; his parents, whose marriage was decided long before he was born but was the truest form of love he’d ever seen, and with his older sister, who was against her marriage at first but came to be truly in love with the man she was promised to. He wanted that to– to love and be loved with all his heart, to have something special and all his own with the woman he was promised to. And he'd work hard, do everything he could to show you that he was someone worthy to give your heart to. 

You stayed in the gardens for some time, simply talking and enjoying the scenery until the sun began to shift behind the trees. The shade brought a deeper chill with it, a slight shiver crawling over your skin each time the wind blew. “Let’s go back inside, there’s still something I want to show you,” Felix suggests upon seeing the way your body tensed from the chill creeping over you. You easily accept the offer, letting him lead you out of the gardens and back to the castle.

Warmth immediately spreads through you when you’re back inside the castle’s walls, body releasing its cold tension as you let Felix guide you to where he wants to go next, your arm linked in his as is coming to be your norm.

You come to a now familiar hall– the one with your bedrooms, and Felix stops in front of the doors to his room, the one you will one day share in the future. “Your room..?” you ask, looking at him inquisitively. 

“I’m not asking you to move in yet, just to see it, if that’s okay with you,” he explains his intentions, ensuring that he means you no harm by inviting you into the private space. Felix has given you no reason to mistrust him at all, and while there is some slight hesitancy due to your own fears, you agree easier than you expected yourself to.

He’s trustworthy, you think; he’s a gentleman through and through, and he’s shown you more than once how considerate and respectful he is, so.. Why not? The royal knights guarding his room open the doors for you at Felix’s signal, and the two of you step inside together, letting the guards close the door behind you to offer you privacy (not that you necessarily need it at the moment.)

His room is similar to yours, with much of the same features, but much larger in scale and with items you imagine are specific to Felix’s own tastes. His furniture holds the same blue and white tones as yours, but with the additions of a lovely yellow, reminiscent of the sun shining in an almost clear sky. 

He has a fireplace, only slightly larger than the one in your room, and you can tell even from a distance that his attached bath is very grand in both appearance and size. The biggest difference from your own room however has to be the piano sitting in the corner of his room, large and spectacular in its handcrafted design.

You cautiously step closer to it, carefully running your hand over the sleekly painted black wood, fingertips tracing over the gold leaf accents. “This is beautiful,” you say, turning back to look at him when you’re done admiring the beauty of what you can only assume is his personal piano, “do you play?”

“I learned as a boy,” he answers with a beaming smile full of pride as he takes a seat in front of the keys, “I haven’t had much time to play recently, but it’s one of my favorite things to do. I always feel the happiest when I’m playing.”

He motions for you to take a seat on the nearby chaise, so you do, sitting comfortably against the soft cushion. “Would you like to hear a song?” he asks, a bit nervous but eager to show you what he can do after years of diligent practice.

“I’d love that,” you reply, his infectious joy causing you to smile as well. You watch as he turns his attention to the keys in front of him, his face changing as he closes his eyes, the smile you had become accustomed to seeing fading as he prepared to focus. 

The song starts soft and slow, and while you didn’t recognize the melody, you found it entrancing and indescribably beautiful and serene. You watched and listened in awe as he continued, his eyes still closed and body swaying along with the melody he was playing. His ability to play without looking at the keys or sheet music amazed you, and attested to the fact that this is indeed something he loves to do. 

You clapped when he finished the song, and his expression immediately returned to the vibrant smile he often held. “That was beautiful Felix! You’re really talented,” you praise him earnestly, truly moved by his talent.

“Oh, no, anyone who has played as long as I have can do that,” he insists despite the light blush crawling on his features from your compliment. 

“You’re being modest,” you say, hoping he recognizes that you truly mean it, and aren’t just saying so to be kind or polite. You’ve seen a fair amount of people play the piano in your time attending balls and banquets, but saw no one as talented and clearly passionate as Prince Felix.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to being so openly complimented, or the fact that he had never played in front of anyone but his family, but he found that the praise affected him in a way he couldn’t have anticipated. 

No, it was because it was you specifically complimenting him that made his face flush and heart beat just the tiniest bit faster. Was it strange to hope to hear you compliment him more in the future? Maybe one day you’d compliment his appearance; tell him he was handsome, or beautiful, or cute even. He’d be happy with any of them, as long as they were from you. 

He'll tell you too– how beautiful you are when you smile, your excitement over your books cute, your very presence endearing. He knows it's too soon to call his feelings love, because how do you fall in love with a stranger in only a few weeks time? But he's certain that one day, maybe not too far off from today, it will be love, and the warmth and joy he feels whenever you look at him will expand tenfold, beyond anything he's ever experienced before now. 

Since the first time you’d entered Felix’s room and he’d played the piano for you, it had become routine for you to spend most of your days there with him, listening to him calmly play melodies while you silently read your books. It was nice listening to him play while you were reading; it felt like it added a special ambience, and helped you get even further lost in the tales written on the page. 

Sometimes you’d even notice him watching you read from your peripheral, smiling to himself for just a moment before he turned his attention back to the keys. When his fingers grew tired, you’d start to read aloud, oftentimes at his own request. Felix explained that he liked listening to you read, and you imagined that the feeling was similar to how you felt listening to him play piano.

Relaxing, comfortable, serene; that’s how the two of you felt listening to the other. Honestly, you were embarrassed to do so at first; after all, the book you were reading at the time had to do with with a woman in a magical fantasy land falling in love with an elf, and you would’ve been extremely embarrassed if he laughed at the concept or shamed you for your taste in literature. 

However, you found that he listened to you intently, like the tale you were reading from the pages was of the utmost importance for him to hear. He’d ask follow up questions when you were further in the book than he last heard, often asking what happened next and if the characters had overcome whatever trial they had been facing yet.  

Felix remembered all the details of what you read to him– the setting, the character’s names, what their thoughts and feelings were at the point you’d read them to him. It impressed you, as well made you feel warm and a little fuzzy. It showed how much he genuinely cared, that he listened to you and cared about the things you care about, that he wanted to know what you like beyond a superficial level. 

Whenever night came however, you retreated back to your own room, promising you’d return the next day. Maybe it was silly to not officially move into the bedroom you were meant to share when you had begun to spend most of your days there, but you simply weren’t ready to yet. You’d grown to trust Felix quite a bit, but sleeping next to him still seemed a step too far out of your comfort zone. 

You also worried it’d send him the wrong message– you didn’t want him to think anything would come of you sharing a bed just yet. You just found his presence comforting, and that was all. You knew, since the very day you first came here, that he hoped the two of you would share his room when you were ready, but you didn’t want to unintentionally give him something he thought was more than it was supposed to be. 

It seemed so.. Intimate, much more than you had ever been with someone. You liked him, and you trusted him, that much was true– but enough to share a bed? It was nerve wracking to think about, and while you knew it would happen someday, there was no need to rush it along; especially not when he was giving you the freedom and space to tackle your marriage on your own terms. 

But on nights like tonight, when your heart was heavy and tears pricked the corner of your eyes, you wondered if you should’ve just moved in with Felix already. It was only a matter of time before the warm weather brought rain with it, and alongside the downpour came thunderstorms. You weren’t sure what time of night it was when the crash of thunder woke you from your sleep, but as the grogginess faded and the sound sat with you, your heart ached terribly. 

You didn’t hate thunderstorms– in fact, you didn’t mind them at all, usually finding them quite pleasant to watch and listen to. It was your sister that hated them, who’d crawl into your bed every time one struck, trembling hands rousing you from your deep slumber and clinging to you the moment you awoke and offered her a place next to you. And each time a thunderstorm rolled through, you couldn't help but think about her, sadness encroaching over you without any means to stop it. 

What was the weather like back home, you wondered? Had spring's rain been gentle to her so far or were the storms as prevalant there as they were here? Would your sister suffer through it alone now that you weren’t there to comfort her? Your parents were kind, but you weren’t entirely sure they’d allow her to crawl into bed with them, or to hold her close as she cried the way you always had. 

How much of the remainder of her childhood would you come to miss? In just a few years time, she’ll be a woman the same as you, married into a new family and away from the last of her comforts. You don’t hate where you are now, nor do you hate Felix or the family you now call your own, but you miss the people you grew up with, and your little sister most of all. 

You miss holding her hand, hugging her when she’s scared, wiping away her tears when she’s sad or frightened. You miss guiding her through the lessons you once took, helping her to understand and offering the help you didn’t have then due to being the oldest. You miss giggling together when sharing stories, how cute she looked when happily accepting and showcasing your hand-me-down dresses that were now hers. 

Before you knew it, tears rolled down your cheeks, the ache in your chest unable to be ignored or pushed aside any longer. It was as if all the sadness you’d been harboring surfaced all at once, and the moment one tear fell, another followed, and another, until you were openly sobbing, unable to control or stop it from happening. 

You thought again of Felix, who was just a short trip down the hall from you. Would it be alright to go see him? You promised you’d go to him if you needed something, and well.. You could use some comfort, if you were being honest with yourself.

If you lit some candles and tried to read to distract your mind, all you’d effectively do is blur the pages and stain them with your tears, unable to focus on the words in front of you as your mind swirled and processed all your emotions. Felix, while still relatively new to you and finding his place in your life, is your family now.

Who else can you approach with your melancholy if not him? He’s sweet– he’ll comfort you, he’ll listen to you, he’ll be patient and considerate. In the nearly 2 months since you’d first arrived, he’s always shown you just how gentle of a person he is. And he always seemed genuine when expressing his desire to share his life with you, and be someone you could trust and rely on. 

You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself, wiping the tears from your face as you rise from your bed. Your night guards seem surprised when the doors to your room open and you emerge from them, but ultimately they say nothing, letting you walk down the hall without interruption and closing your doors for you. 

Felix’s guards, who recognize you even in the dim light of the candles on the walls as his wife, acknowledge you with a brief, professional nod when you stop in front of the doors. You hesitate there for a moment, wondering if this is really okay or if you should abandon this idea and turn back to your room.

But his guards, who mistake your hesitance as you waiting for them to open the doors, do so as quietly as they can, motioning for you to go ahead and step inside the room. Well, there’s no going back now that they’ve opened the doors for you, so you quietly step inside, thanking them softly and letting them pull the large doors shut behind you.

The room is dark, the light that would normally pour in from the moon being obscured by the dark rain clouds that hang in the sky. His candles are all responsibly blown out, but your eyes are adjusted to the darkness enough to find your way to his bed regardless. 

You swallow, hand trembling as you reach out to him, shaking him gently and mirroring the actions your sister used to take when she woke you up at night. He groans sleepily, voice deep and gravely as he stirs awake, eyes slowly drawing open, wearily looking for the source of what woke him. Felix sees you standing above him, but it takes his sleep-addled brain a moment to process the sight, half wondering if his weary eyes are playing a trick on him. 

But no, it really is you, looking at him with sad eyes and a quivering bottom lip, and he can feel the tremble in your hand that rests on his shoulder now that he’s fully conscious. He sits up quickly, concern painting his face as he gives you his undivided attention.

“Y/N, what’s the matter? Has something happened?” Your voice wavers as you try to tell him, I’m sad, I’m lonely, I miss everyone from home, but it doesn’t fully come out, the words dying in your throat as tears well in your eyes again. 

He opens his arms to you and you crumble into them, burying your head in his chest as you allow yourself to cry. He sympathetically whispers your name, careful as he wraps his arms around you in a hug, conscious of where he allows his hands to rest.

He doesn’t know what's wrong, what has brought you to such tears, but he’s glad you came to him with them. It would’ve saddened Felix to later learn that you suffered in your room alone when he would’ve gladly done whatever he could for you. 

And then he hears it– the crack of thunder, lightning illuminating the room for a brief moment before you’re sheathed again in darkness. Was that the problem? Were you frightened? You weren’t of course, but he didn’t know that, and he comforted you through your sobbing as if you were.

“It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m here with you,” he told you, his voice a deep whisper, holding you just a bit tighter whenever lightning struck, fully believing the problem was that you were afraid. Despite the misconception, you were comforted all the same. This was exactly what you were hoping for, what you needed to hear.

The storm eventually recedes, as does your sobbing, the room becoming ever so slightly more illuminated as the rain clouds pass onward. He can see your face more clearly now when you look at him again, can see how wet and shiny your cheeks have become from fallen tears, but you also appear calmer, your lip trembling much less and breaths more stable. 

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks softly, carefully, and it is now you become hyper aware of the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, of your head resting against his chest, of the sound of his heartbeat in your ears.

You relax your fingers, which you realize were clutching his sleep shirt quite hard, the fabric having become harshly wrinkled from your grasp. He loosens his arms to let you lift yourself away from him, watching silently as you wipe your face clean. 

You hesitate to meet his gaze– not because you feel embarrassed over your outpouring of your emotions, but conscious of how close you just were, and how natural it felt to have his arms around you. Maybe the fact that it felt so right is a testament of how close you’ve grown in the time you've been here, and how comfortable he makes you feel.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” you mutter quietly now that you’ve found your voice again; you know his duties leave him tired, so there’s a tinge of guilt you feel for interrupting his rest. “Don’t say that, I’m glad you woke me,” he assures you, and he’d reach out and hug you tight again if he knew he could.

You believe him– you know how earnest and sincere Felix is, and that he cares about you; maybe not in the way a husband cares about his wife, but cares nonetheless. You should be honest too, clarify why you were really crying so he doesn’t grow to think you’re genuinely afraid of thunderstorms. 

“I, uh– I’m not afraid of storms, that’s not why I was crying. Well, it was, but not because I was frightened,” you explain, and Felix looks a bit puzzled, but nods anyways, listening carefully to what you tell him. You tell him everything– how your sister was afraid of them, how you spent many dark nights easing her fears, and how your tears were born from how much you miss her, and your family as a whole. 

His heart breaks for you, truly, it does. He assumed you missed your family, he took notice of how close you were to them on the night of your ceremony, but there was no way he could’ve known how deep your pain was. And really, he can’t imagine what it’s like to be in your situation.

What if it was him who had to separate from his parents and siblings to live somewhere new? Would he be able to handle it with as much acceptance and grace as you have? You never complained about anything, even when you were saddened.

You treated everyone around you kindly, never spoke ill of anyone or about your circumstances, and that’s when he realizes you have much more inner strength than he’d known. There’s a small prick of guilt he feels for taking you away from your family, but even if it wasn’t him that you married, it still would’ve happened to you someday.

He wishes he knew what he could say or do to comfort you the best; there was nothing that could completely take the ache away, of that he was sure, but if he could make it better somehow then he’d do whatever he could. You can see the gears turning in his brain, can see him struggle with finding the words to say, unsure if what he’d done for you thus far was good enough. 

And there’s a new dilemma brewing in your mind– what do you do now that you’re calm? Do you just.. leave? Go back to your solitude and spend the rest of the night alone? If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t entirely want to go back to your room.

Maybe it was time for you to finally move in with Felix, and share the room, share the bed, as you were meant to. It’s a strange feeling you don’t entirely recognize and know what to do with; you just know that you want to stay here, with him, and feel his arms around you again. 

Maybe it’s simply because he’s all you have here; which isn’t entirely true, but it is how you feel. Do you have a family here? Yes, the royal family is your family now too. Do you have friends here? Yes, you’ve grown quite close to your maids and other staff you interact with.

But are you comfortable enough to be vulnerable in front of them, or to share your feelings of loneliness and homesickness? No, and in that regard, Felix is all you have. 

Felix is your companion in this lonely place, the person who makes your days brighter and bearable through the melancholy, the one who ebbs away your sadness and replaces it with warmth. And you spend all your days with him, next to him, talking to him, sharing everything, including silence.

Would it be so bad to allow yourself this comfort? To finally take a step forward and move into the room you were meant to share? There’s a part of you that’s scared to take that step, afraid to confront what your desire to be close to him means, unsure how to unravel and make sense of the complexities of your thoughts.

But there is an undeniable truth– Felix is your husband, and that would likely never change. So even if you don’t love him, wasn’t it okay to be close to him regardless? He makes you smile, he makes you laugh with his stories and jokes, he plays the piano for you and listens to you so intently, he makes you feel warm and fuzzy; and he told you he wants you to be here.

Maybe he doesn’t love you yet, but he’s expressed that he wants to, that he hopes the two of you will look at each other fondly and live happily. And maybe you don’t love him yet, but that doesn’t mean that the day you do is far off.

You look at him, take in the compassion and concern he holds for you, allow the feeling of warmth to seep into your pores; you may not be in love with him, but you do still have love for him. Isn’t that enough? 

“Felix, if it’s alright.. Can I–” you pause a moment, shy apprehension prickling your skin, but you collect yourself enough to continue, “I want to stay. Here, with you.” You can see even in the low light how his eyes widen, though it’s hard to decipher whether or not his surprise is pleasant, but you hope it is given how he’s expressed his hopes for the future.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks, not at all against the idea, just surprised by your admission. “I don’t want to be alone again, at least not tonight,” you explain, hoping he understands, “And I don’t have to move in completely if you’re not ready for me to, but.. I spend all my days here with you anyways, so.. I want to, if that’s okay.”

Felix’s heart is racing, his face growing pinker by the second, and he feels lucky you’re making this confession in the darkness, where you can’t easily tell how obvious his blush is. “Of course you can stay,” he says, shifting more to the side to allow you the space you need to get comfortable under his thick blanket.

He’s stiff when he first lies down next to you, unsure of whether or not it was okay to touch you, whether or not you’d even like it if something as simple as his arm being pressed against yours, if it was alright with you. He already knew he was undeniably attracted to you, but he’d never do something if you were uncomfortable, or touch you without explicit permission, even if the touch was meant to be comforting as opposed to romantic.

But you reach out to him first, softly ask him to hug you again, and he’s more than happy to oblige your request. You can hear the rapid beat of his heart as you move in close, and you wonder if he’s nervous; you are too, to be fair.

You’ve never lied this close to a man before, or let one hold you in his arms the way you let Felix, never shared a bed with anyone but family. But you want this, and despite the nerves that come with doing something so new to you, you’re happy, comfortable. 

Felix’s heart begins to slow the longer you lie together, as does yours, and the exhaustion that comes with crying, as well as being woken in the middle of the night, takes hold over you. You fall asleep first, though Felix is not far behind you, the soft sound of your even breaths akin to a lullaby in his fatigued state.

You’re warm, comfortable, safe; you may not have all the things that were once familiar to you, but you have Felix, a person who radiates kindness and compassion, a person who despite everything, makes you happy. 

There’s part of you that wonders if sharing a room with Felix was a decision made too hastily; not because he did anything wrong, but because it came with unforeseen challenges. What was the challenge? Dressing, undressing, bathing to name a few.

He was always respectful, kept his back turned to you whilst you were changing or kept himself away from the attached bath if you were in it. And you likewise never peeked towards him when the opposite occurred. 

You certainly didn’t regret your decision– after all, you spent all your days with Felix, so it only made sense to spend your nights with him too now that you felt comfortable enough. But there was a certain timidness that came with undressing in the presence of a man, even if said man wasn’t looking and had his gaze fixed to the wall until you were finished. You wondered though, wouldn’t there come a day where he was allowed to look? 

The thought of Felix someday looking at your exposed, bare skin made an unfamiliar feeling well in your gut– one that was entirely foreign to you, but not at all unpleasant. Butterflies, perhaps? You’d read about the sensation in your novels, the characters often expressing how seeing the one they love made their stomach react in ways strange and new.

And as explained in the countless romances you read, your heart would race when he held your gaze after you emerged from the bath, your face would flush whenever his touch lingered for longer than what you would consider typical of a friendly relationship. 

It was no exaggeration to say that sharing a room with Felix brought you even closer than before. Once you got past your initial shyness, the weeks that followed were some of the most pleasant you’d had.

You settled into a nice routine, sharing breakfast before he had to depart to attend to his royal duties. You spent the rest of your morning and early afternoon perusing the library shelves for your next read or sitting out in the gardens, sometimes reading in the warm light of the sun, sometimes simply enjoying the scenery around you. 

You’d reunite at dinner time, sometimes sharing that time with family in the dining hall and other times eating in the privacy and comfort of your room. Felix would often insist that you bathe first, ever a gentleman to you, but on days he seemed particularly worn out and exhausted you would do your best to convince him he needed one more than you, encouraged him to relax and let the hot water soothe away any aches. 

No matter the order of the bath, your nights would end the same; you’d spend the last few hours of your day listening to Felix play the piano as you read, oftentimes reading your literature aloud once he grew tired and joined you where you sat, whether that be the chaise facing the piano, the sofa across from the fireplace, or simply the bed.

On the nights he was extra tired, his eyes would grow heavy and close as you read to him, and when you gently told him he was falling asleep, he’d mumble that he was still listening, urging you to continue.

It was endearing, and there was a certain joy you felt in lulling him to sleep with your softly spoken words, knowing that even as the comfort seeped into his bones and urged him to rest, all he wanted was to listen to you. You liked to think it even helped him, hoping that you brought him as much solace as he brought you, hoping that you alleviated and dispelled any troubles simply by being there for him the way he was for you. 

Tonight was another such day; the changing of the season brought with it longer, warmer days, and often the sun wouldn’t begin to sink until you were already well into your nightly routine. The moon had just begun to emerge when Felix settled down on the sofa next to you, making sure he lit the candles before he sat as darkness began to settle in.

It was a bit of a challenge at times to read in the dim, wavering light of the candles, but you’d grown used to it in your time as a novel enjoyer, and you welcomed the cozy atmosphere the candlelight brought. He listened to you intently at first, but the more you spoke the words from the pages, with your steady, soft and even pace, the more sleep called to him, and it became a struggle for his eyes to remain open.

His head rested against the back of the sofa, the cushion acting as a pillow for his weary body. Your softly spoken words, along with the low light the candles brought to the room, were enough to call him to sleep much faster than he’d otherwise expect. You pause when you notice his eyes have completely closed, not sure if he’s still listening with his eyes shut, or is indeed asleep as you suspect.

But when he makes no reaction to your pause, you are certain sleep has taken him, and you smile as you quietly close your book. You set it down on the nearby table, wondering if you should try and wake him, request him to move to the bed, or if it’d be better to bring over a blanket and let him be. 

You look at him, quietly taking in the sight of his sleeping form. Felix is beautiful, even whilst sleeping, and you wonder if he knows that. His eyelashes are long, his freckles a unique and expansive constellation, his parted lips and honeyed skin almost entracing to look at, begging to be admired by all who look.

And admire him you did, in quiet moments like this. Moments where everything was serene, in the space belonging only to the two of you, a space where you are the only ones who exist. 

Carefully, you reach out to him, gently tapping on his shoulder until he stirs. “Felix,” you call softly, and he barely opens his eyes, letting out a small, groggy ‘hmm?’ in response.

“You fell asleep,” you tell him quietly, voice almost a whisper, “let’s go to bed.” He hums his agreement, which due to his deep, sleepy voice sounds more like a grumble. You rise from the sofa first, offering a hand for stability if he needs it. 

He falls to the bed with a grunt, barely managing to pull the blankets up over his shoulders, and you can’t help but giggle at the display. You work your way around the room before you join him, blowing out the candles until the room’s only illumination comes from the moonlight peaking through the window curtains.

You’re not quite as tired as Felix, but you settle into bed regardless, knowing that once you’re under the blankets and comfortably next to him, sleep won’t be all that far behind. Felix has been working extra hard lately, preparing for an upcoming ball to celebrate the summer solstice.

Apparently they hold it annually, as well as one for the winter solstice, but you had arrived at winter’s end, after that celebration had already concluded. It keeps the spirits of the commoners high, gives them an event to look forward to, as well as a chance to mingle with those from other, father towns who come in to join the celebration of the season. 

That’s not its only purpose however; it also gives the royal family a chance to meet with other officials and people of high standing beyond that of just letters, and ensure that they continue to have a prosperous, mutually beneficial relationship. Dukes, barons, soldiers who have returned from war-torn fields– it’s important for the king, and by extension Felix, to know where they stand with all of them. 

Of course, you were no stranger to lessons in diplomacy, but you’re sure there is much more Felix has to keep in mind than simply being diplomatic. There’s a lot that goes into the politics of the kingdom, and you can’t imagine the weight that falls on his shoulders, knowing that one day he’ll inherit the responsibility of deciding the future of everyone within his territory.

It’s also possible that someday, your knowledge from growing up in the south will be a vital asset to him, and that he’ll seek your input on how to govern the farthest reaches of the kingdom. You sigh a little, moving in closer to Felix.

It’s best not to stress yourself out with thoughts about governing the kingdom, or about the upcoming ball; it’ll be your first ball as a married couple in the public eye, and there’s a separate set of nerves that come along with that. You wonder how much like a couple you should act; should you stay glued to his side, act lovey-dovey for the duration of the night, or would that be unseemly for royalty to do? 

It’s possible there’s no need for you to appear in love– after all, it’s no secret that arranged marriages can be loveless. But still, you think it’d be beneficial for the people to see you genuinely care for Felix– it could set a positive example, and show that the north and south have no need to fight against each other.

You think if you just act natural, and don’t put too much thought and effort into “proving” you love Felix, then the people will see your honest feelings come through.  And besides, you told yourself you wouldn't worry about such things now that you were in bed, so your only priority should be going to sleep. 

Felix’s arm rests around your waist, which is normal for you now. After the first night, when he hugged you until you fell asleep, it felt nice to wake up with his arm still there, holding you close. He apologized the next morning when you woke up, worried that he may have made you uncomfortable, though he didn’t have control of where his arm lied once he’d fallen deeply into sleep.

You assured him though that it was perfectly fine– in fact, it was comfortable, and you enjoyed the closeness after feeling so lonely. It became a natural part of how you slept, his arm always around you, sometimes loosely, and other times strongly keeping you close.

Now was one such time you were held loosely, his arm limp with sleep but you didn’t mind; it gives you the ability to easily adjust your position turning so that his hand was against your back and your head could rest close to his chest. Your movement rouses him slightly, and he instinctively holds you tighter.

You whisper an apology for unintentionally waking him with your movement, not entirely sure that he’s even alert enough to truly hear you, but you say it regardless. You guess he does hear you, because he mumbles a response, though it’s not entirely decipherable. “..ove you.”

“Hmm?” you hum in question, glancing up to look at him, but it’s no use– he’s back to sleep within seconds, as if he was never awoken at all.

Oh well, it likely wasn’t anything important, probably just dreamy ramblings of a tired mind, or an acceptance of your apology. Maybe tomorrow you can ask him if he dreamt anything pleasant, or if you appeared to him in your dreams the same way he had begun to in yours. 

You were well into the solstice ball, sighing as you stood off to the side of all the dancing, feeling exhausted from everything you were experiencing. You thought your wedding was tiring, but this was somehow even worse; when you got married to Felix, only locals to the town were welcome inside the castle to witness it and celebrate, otherwise chaos could ensue.

But with the solstice ball, any and everyone was welcome, and with that came a myriad of people for you to meet and communicate with. Most who attended were eager to see the prince’s wife, curious about what sort of woman he’d married, and you couldn’t help but be anxious about what opinion they’d hold of you after seeing you in the flesh.

Honestly, you wanted to make a good impression; you’d be saddened if you were unliked by those who would one day be your people alongside Felix. Your father was someone who governed with compassion, and the royal family were much the same, and you hoped they could see you held the same values. 

Still, it was tiring to portray your best self for hours without end, and you took the opportunity for a break at the first moment you could. You stayed at Felix’s side for the first hour of the evening before going your separate ways, him mingling with various men of high status while you traveled the ballroom floor, introducing yourself to as many people as you could.

There were still many people for you to meet and talk with, but hopefully they’d understand your need to take a moment for yourself. You sipped on some water, your throat thankful for the soothing liquid, having become quite parched from all the talking you’d done.

You also looked yourself over briefly in one of the ballroom’s mirrors, making sure everything about your appearance was still neatly in place. You had went out to town with Felix to get a new dress, and it arrived mere days before the ball, just in time. 

You expressed that you were worried about your appearance, the dresses you’d brought from home being expensive and beautiful, sure, but still falling short when compared to the lavish gowns his sisters and mother wore.

Felix, who didn’t entirely realize he was speaking his thoughts aloud, said you’d look beautiful in anything, and both of your faces went red, before he coughed awkwardly and quickly changed the subject, saying that they could simply buy you a new dress if you’d needed it. 

You did also consider borrowing a gown from his older sister, but he insisted that was nonsense when they were more than capable of buying something specifically for you, and so you’d agreed to go out to town with him, going to a seamstress well-respected and trusted by the royal family.

It was your first outing since your arrival, not because anything necessarily stopped you from leaving if you wanted to, but simply because it required the coordination and cooperation of the royal guard accompanying you, and really, you had no need to leave until then. 

After the seamstress’ daughter took your measurements, and you answered various questions pertaining to color and style, as well as looking over and feeling various samples of fabric, you were free to leave, with the promise that once your dress was ready, her daughter would bring it to the castle, along with an alteration kit if any adjustments were needed. Before returning to the castle, Felix brought you to a jeweler, and you also passed a bookstore, where you couldn’t help but notice your favorite novel was on display.

Felix asked about it when you noticed your subtle pause to look, asked if you wanted to go inside and look around, or buy the copy of your favorite novel that was on display, but you told him there was no need. After all, you still had your very well-loved copy at home (which, while beginning to fall apart, was still perfectly readable and sentimental to you), and countless books in the library you still had interest in before feeling the need to purchase any new ones. 

All that to say, your night on the town was well spent, and you were thankful how well your gown and jewelry came together, and you truly felt good about your appearance tonight. Your maids also dutifully perfected your hair and makeup, and even hours into the night, you found no imperfection with either.

Felix also went red in the face when he first saw your completed look, much to the delight of your maids, who had to suppress their gleeful giggles; it seemed they loved when Felix looked at you with awe. You allow an attending maid to take your water from your hands when you are finished with it, thanking them with sincere politeness.

You give yourself another moment to collect yourself before returning to the main ballroom floor, careful not to bump into those dancing as you make your way through the crowd of people. You hoped to locate Felix, and see whether or not he’s still caught up in whatever political talk he was having when you last brushed past him. 

Instead, you hear a familiar voice questioningly call your name, and you pause, stopping to look around for the source. It couldn’t be.. could it? “Christopher!” you gasp, met with the sight of a boy, now man, you hadn't seen in nearly 3 years, “What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t you know? My station is just a few towns over,” he explains with a smile. Honestly, you were completely shocked. Your fathers were close friends, and though Chris was a few years older than you, you’d spent a lot of time together due to the close relationship of your fathers, both personal and professional. 

While your father is a duke, Chris’ was a very well-respected knight, who earned the title of baron due to his unwavering loyalty and dedication to serving your father, having sworn his fealty to him many years ago, before you were even born. Chris had similar ambitions as his father, and dedicated himself to training from a young age, always expressing that one day he’d serve the royal family. Coincidentally, he was also your first, and only, childhood crush. 

And truly, you didn’t know that he lived in a relatively short proximity to the town you now called home. Upon meeting the requirements to join the royal guard, he was sent north to receive further orders, and you’d lost contact with him not long afterwards, with the only news you’d learned being that he married a year after moving from the town you both grew up in– an arranged marriage, same as you. 

His wife, as far as you were aware, was a local girl whose family offered a significant dowry to be married to such a well-respected and honorable family. You wondered more than once if he was happy, and if your father ever considered Chris as a potential husband to you, but in recent times you stopped lingering on such thoughts completely. Your situation was set in stone, and you didn’t bother entertaining thoughts on what-if’s and could-be’s now that you too were married. 

“I didn’t! But it’s nice to see you again, I didn’t expect to see a familiar face,” you tell him sincerely; disregarding the childhood feelings you once held for him, it truly is nice to see a friend from home again.

“I was surprised when I heard you were the one Prince Felix married, and so I had to take this chance to see you again, and see the truth of it for myself.” You giggle a little, imagine what Chris must’ve looked like when he learned his childhood friend had married someone so important. 

“I was surprised too, believe me. I never anticipated marrying into the royal family,” you say, smiling as you speak. Though there were hardships that came with being relocated and away from family, now that you were growing accustomed to your life here, you actually found it pleasant. And you really enjoyed Felix’s presence; while you were initially upset about your marriage, you had truly begun to view it as a good thing in the recent weeks. 

“Did your wife come too? It’d be lovely to meet her,” you ask as a follow up, hoping she was somewhere nearby. “Mm, she’s here somewhere,” he replies, much more dismissive about the topic than you’d expect him to be.

It makes you want to ask if his relationship with her is bad, but perhaps that’s not appropriate to ask given the circumstances. “Would you like to dance?” he asks, quickly shifting focus, and you hesitate, a slight frown forming on your face. 

Normally, you wouldn’t be opposed to sharing a dance with a friend, but the circumstances surrounding your lives have changed substantially since you were last in contact. You’re both married, and even if it meant nothing beyond friendship for either of you, there was an image that needed to be upheld at all times, especially in the eyes of the public.

And you couldn’t help but think about what his wife, or Felix, would think if they saw you dancing with each other. Felix knew Chris by name alone from times you talked about home, but there was no way for him to know what he looked like. And in turn, you don’t know if Chris’ wife knows who you even are, if you’d be crossing a boundary in your respective relationships without even knowing it.

Further still, the thought of Felix seeing you in the arms of another and being upset, or even jealous, is enough to deter you from making that decision. You’re trying to form something real with Felix despite the circumstances that brought you together, and you won’t do anything to hinder that.

You want him to know that you respect your marriage, and that you won’t put his feelings in jeopardy by entertaining the advances of other men. Not that you think Chris means anything by his request, but still– better to be safe about these things than sorry. 

It’s strange though; you already knew you like Felix quite a lot, and care about his feelings, but there’s something beyond that, that makes you want to abide by the sanctity of your marriage. Technically speaking, you only have to be a devoted wife in public. It’s no secret that those in arranged marriages have concubines and secret affairs. If you truly wanted to, you could do the same, but you have no wish to do so. 

Is it loyalty? Love? All you really understand is that you never want to do anything to break Felix’s heart. You also don’t know if he even has enough romantic interest in you to be jealous in the first place, but either way, that’s not an emotion you want to cause him to feel. Some may be happy to see their betrothed jealous, but you’re not that kind of woman; instead, you’d feel rather guilty and apologetic. 

You glance across the crowd, spotting Felix still mingling with his father and other men of high status, completely unaware of the situation you’ve found yourself in. Hopefully, you can return to his side soon, once you're done catching up with Chris. “I’m afraid I can’t,” you finally say, hoping he understands your need to politely turn him down.

“What a shame,” he sighs a bit, his hand reaching out to you and settling on your arm, near your shoulder, “You look beautiful tonight. I would’ve loved to share a dance with you, as adults.” 

“O-Oh, thank you,” you mutter, taken aback by the words that left him. The Chris you knew was never so forward, nor did he ever openly compliment you. If you’re being honest, you’re not entirely sure how to respond; this was a situation your younger self would have dreamed of, but now you just feel.. odd.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, even when we were kids. I never imagined this is where life would take us, but.. If it’s your public image that worries you, maybe I could seek you out later, and we could have some alone time?” he continues seamlessly, as if this is a sentence he’s practiced in his head over and over again. 

Again, this is something your younger self would’ve been ecstatic about, even prayed for, but now you just feel.. uncomfortable. You don’t feel flattered by his compliment, nor do you like the implication of his statement, and you recoil away from the hand that lingers uncomfortably on your arm.

“We can't do that,” you say firmly, doing your utmost to make it clear you have no desire to partake in a scandalous relationship with him. You liked him once, but you were a kid then, and what you feel now for Felix is much more grounded in reality than the puppy love you had for Chris. 

“Why not?” he asks, looking at you with eyes that would’ve once made you melt. And there is genuine hurt there, which you do feel sorry about, but you simply don’t return the sentiment he seems to have. “We're both married. Shouldn't you be loyal to your wife?” you counter; even if your marriage to Felix isn’t born of “real” love, you have no interest in infidelity, nor do you want to be the reason Chris is unfaithful in his marriage.

“I don't love her, I never have. And though I moved of my own volition, I always wondered what would’ve happened if I stayed behind, and expressed my desires to make you mine. But what of you? Do you love your husband?” His words, his question, make you swallow, unsure how best to respond. You liked him once, that much is true, but you like Felix more. What you have with him.. You value it, deeply. 

It’s easy for a 14 year old to say they’re in love with their crush when they’ve never experienced what real, adult love feels like. There are times, even now, when you’re unsure of what the beating of your heart truly means, but there is one thing that you know for certain– you love Felix, much, much more sincerely than you ever loved Christopher. The difference between loving him, and being in love with him, make little difference in this case. 

Though, the more you’ve thought about it, the more you’ve come to think that maybe you are really, actually in love with him. You wouldn’t desire him if you didn’t, wouldn’t be up at night wondering what it would feel like to kiss him, or what kind of father he’d be to the children you’d one day have. You wouldn’t feel a void in your chest at the thought of no longer being by his side, even deeper than the one you’d felt upon moving away from home. 

And if there is anything your time reading romance novels has taught you, it’s that love is more than temporary butterflies and racing of the heart. Love is more than excitement, than desire, than the heat of his touch on your body; love, real love, is the comfort you feel in his presence. The safety, the hours spent together talking or relaxing, even in the comfortable silence you share during a meal– that is love.  

When you can’t imagine your life without him in it, when even the mundane sounds fun as long as it’s with him, when you still feel warm and fuzzy in his presence even after the butterflies have passed, that is love. Now that you’ve come to know what life is like when Felix is next to you, holding you, sleeping with you, sharing his voice and his talents with you, you never want to know what the absence of him would feel like.

All of that is to say, you think you’ve had your answer all along; you don’t just love Felix. You’re in love with Felix. 

“If I must tell you.. I do. I love Felix, truly. He’s a wonderful man,” you answer honestly, and Chris holds a deep frown. It must feel unfair– that’s how you felt about your circumstances at first. There’s no way for you to know how long he had feelings for you, but you were able to move on, while he clearly hadn’t. And truthfully, you feel sorry for him; none of this is his fault, but still.. You can’t change how you feel. 

“Surely you don’t mean that,” Chris says, a bit desperate, and again, your heart twists. You do mean it, unfortunately for him. And you have no intention of letting him think he has a chance to change your mind, when quite frankly, he doesn’t. Unbeknownst to you, Felix would glance your way whenever he was able to, always wanting to make sure you were handling yourself well.

It was your first solstice ball after all, and he imagined it could be overwhelming and tiring for you to mingle with so many people you had never met before. He just wanted to keep an eye on you, make sure you weren’t getting burnt out from the countless interactions with others. And that’s when he sees it– a man he doesn’t know, his hand lingering on your arm, and you, looking up at him with a troubled expression on your face. 

The look of discomfort you hold as the man continues to speak, hand still on you despite how you recoil.. He can’t help but clench his fists, a foreign sort of distaste bubbling within his veins. He can see your expression change as you speak– still uncomfortable, but not quite distressed. Sad, maybe? Perhaps this guy was being forward with you, and you were trying your best to look sympathetic as you gently turn him down. 

“If you’ll excuse me, there’s something I must attend to,” Felix says politely as he bows towards his father and his peers, not lingering to answer questions, though he really should if he doesn’t want to appear rude. He approaches you with haste, though still careful to not appear in too much of a hurry or frantic– he doesn’t want those around him to suspect something is amiss.

The man’s hand is thankfully no longer on you, he realizes as he comes closer– it’d be terribly unbecoming of someone of his status to cause a scene. “There you are, my love! I was looking everywhere for you,” Felix says with a smile as he approaches you, wrapping you in his arms as if the other man doesn’t exist at all.

Your face reddens, heart picking up; my love, he called you my love! You’re aware this is likely only happening because he spotted you and was able to perceive how you felt, but still, your heart reacts to the words nonetheless. 

“Who’s this?” Felix asks as he turns his attention to the man in front of you, his hand resting on your waist in a motion that you’d easily be able to interpret as defensive, possessive.

“O-Oh, uhm– this is Christopher. Do you remember what I told you, about how we grew up together due to our fathers being good friends? We ran into each other, and were just catching up,” you explain, and Chris, not wanting to make a fool of himself, easily goes along with your words. 

“Oh, how lovely. It's a pleasure to meet an old friend of yours,” Felix smiles jovially, extending a hand out to Chris. He accepts it, and the two politely shake hands, with Chris feeling a degree of shame and embarrassment. This definitely isn’t his finest hour; but maybe now that you’ve firmly rejected him, he can try to find happiness in his own life, love in his own marriage. 

“My deepest apologies for interrupting your reunion, but I thought it was time my wife and I shared a dance,” he says to Chris before looking back at you with a smile, and it’s so utterly charming that you practically feel your legs turn to jelly, “Shall we, my love?”

God, your face must look so red right now. But after the few seconds it takes to finish processing, you gladly accept, offering a timid smile. Felix bows politely to Chris before he leads you away by the waist, your heart still racing as you follow his lead. Away from the crowd of people, he stops and turns to you, the natural charisma he held melting away the moment your eyes meet.

“Are you alright? I’m– I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at all, I just..” You smile softly, and shake your head; I liked it, I want to hear you call me ‘my love’ again, I want you to keep wrapping your arms around me and holding me by the waist you want to say, but don't. Instead you carefully lean up, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Felix.” 

His face grows red, his hand reaching up to his face, fingertips lingering over the spot you kissed him. He smiles cutely, shy and sweet, heart pounding even from something so small. He’s infatuated with you, after all, and any affection from you is enough to make his body react.

“Why don't we really go have that dance?” you ask with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You shared a dance when you first married of course, as is customary, but this one would be different; as opposed to a dance between newlyweds with no love between them, now you could say you were dancing with the only man you’d ever sincerely loved.

“Of course, my love,” he replies as he takes your hand in his, leading you to the center of the ballroom floor, both of you bashfully smiling and giddy with affection for the other. You do your best to ignore the stares of others around you, most of them just eager to see the display of love from the newest royal couple in front of them, and keep your focus entirely on Felix.

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger on his lips before he shifts his attention back to your eyes, his cheeks dusted a pretty shade of pink contrasted against his freckles. You really want him to kiss you, if you’re being honest, but you don’t think it’d be entirely wise to share your first kiss with the eyes of the entire ballroom on you.

Maybe, if either of you can conjure your bravery later on, you can kiss in the privacy of your shared room, free to indulge in the feeling of each other for as long as you wish too. Though, perhaps you should stop thinking such thoughts for the moment, lest Felix realizes you’re blushing way too hard. For now, you'll just enjoy the moment you're sharing with him, knowing now, with all your heart, that your love for him is true.

The remainder of your night continued without incident, sharing a few more dances with Felix before you separated again to continue mingling. You saw Christopher again briefly, where he apologized for his behavior and then brought you over to meet his wife.

She really seemed like a sweet girl, and you hoped that Chris would be more open to the idea of loving her now that there were no “what-ifs” keeping him held back. She also seemed quite genuinely infatuated with him, which you couldn’t blame her for– Chris was strikingly handsome, and you might have still held similar feelings for him if it wasn’t for Felix. 

When the ball came to a close, you were eager to get back to your room and get your aching feet out of the heels you’d worn to match your gown, as well as get the heavy, dangly earrings off your ears. You insist that Felix bathe first, as it will take you quite some time to remove all your accessories, get your hair down from the way it was styled, and out of your intricate gown (not as intricate as your wedding gown, of course, but still enough that you wouldn’t be able to remove it swiftly.) 

He didn’t take all that long in the bath, spending just enough time to wash up and effectively dry off, entering your room after he’s changed into his sleep clothes. He respectfully keeps his eyes away from you until he’s sat comfortably away from where you are at the vanity, your dress off and left only in your undergarments. You were brushing out your hair, making sure it was completely tamed and smoothed down to make washing easier before you enter the bath. 

You take a quick glance at Felix before you enter the attached bath, his back turned to you as he nervously fiddles with his thumbs. You soak in the tub for some time, letting the hot water soothe you until it turns cooler, now comfortably warm as you take time washing your hair and body.

Normally you wouldn’t take such a long time in the bath, but it was just so relaxing after the long day you’ve had, and you indulged in the comfort it offered you before you got out to dry off and slip on fresh clothes. 

You half expected for Felix to be in bed already, but when you step out you see that he was waiting up for you, sitting atop the blankets of your bed, back against the headboard. “Sorry I took so long, you didn’t have to wait for me,” you say as you step to your designated side of the bed, mirroring his position against the headboard.

“Well, I didn’t want to go straight to bed without having some down time with you,” he explains a bit timidly, and you smile, finding him endlessly sweet. 

The light in the room is low, the only candles lit now being the ones closest to your bed. He sits up straighter, turning to you with a nervous disposition, and you watch him curiously, wondering what’s on his mind to make him look at you in such a way. “Listen, before we go to bed, I, uh– I actually have something for you,” Felix says, meeting your gaze timidly. 

“Really? What is it?” you ask, having not expected to receive anything so suddenly. Well, sudden to you, but Felix had actually been planning this for quite some time. He steadies his nerves and turns to his nightstand, opening the drawer and digging through it until he finds what he needs– a book.

You recognize it instantly when it’s in front of you; it’s a new, almost pristine copy of the book you told him was your favorite, the one you insisted you didn’t need when you stopped to look at it the day you were out together. “When did you get this?” you ask in surprise, carefully taking it in your hands and ghosting your fingers over the cover.

“The same night you saw it, I asked a guard to discreetly purchase it for you,” he explains with a soft, sheepish smile, hoping you’re pleased. “There’s something else,” he says, and you glance up at him in even further surprise. Gently, he takes the book from your hands, opening it to a specific page. 

“I.. before giving it to you, I wanted to read it, understand for myself why it's your favorite. So.. I did, and there’s a part that really resonates with me, and.. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to read it to you,” he explains, and your heart stirs, thumping wildly in your chest.

How is he so considerate and perfect? You almost can’t believe it, and you don't even know how he found the time to read it without you knowing, but you can ask him about it later. For now, you're much more interested in the fact that he not only read your favorite novel, but wants to share a part he loved with you, a part that spoke to him, and wants you to listen to him read it in his beautiful, deep voice. 

He swallows, takes a breath, hands trembling a bit as he holds the book open and looks down at the page in front of him. You watch him with full attention, somehow feeling just as nervous; you don’t know what he intends to read, and as you yourself have read this story countless times, it’s hard to imagine which specific part he’d like the most– there were just so many possibilities and moments you loved to try and guess. But then he starts, and immediately, you feel your heart positively melt. 

"Taeryn stares at her, his fingertips ghosting her skin, his eyes transfixed in her stare, her gaze swallowing him whole. And he knows, as his fingers brush her hair softly out of her face, as her cheeks burn and breath hitches with his gentle touch, that he loves her. 

He loves her as naturally as he breathes air; to love her is effortless, as easy as it is to simply be. He loves her for as many reasons as there are stars in the sky– countless, never ending. She engulfs him, enraptures him, a moth unable to resist her bright, beckoning flame. 

And he knows, from the way every synapse in his brain fires when their lips meet, how his blood burns in his veins simply from her touch, that there is no greater feeling beyond this. To be lost in her is God's greatest gift, and he will thank Him for the rest of his days, because what else could compare to the pure bliss of loving with all that you are, and being loved in return?”

The words that you already found so beautiful sound even more so coming from him, and you can’t help but suck in a breath as you listen to him speak the words written on the page, as if he’s mirroring the character, feeling the very same emotion.

He closes the book slowly, and your heart races when his eyes meet yours again. What should you say? It was beautiful? Thank you? That doesn’t feel like nearly enough to describe how you feel or how much you appreciate this gesture. 

Felix carefully sets the book to the side, his palms beginning to clam up as he looks at you. He planned this for a specific reason, but now that he’s met with the most critical moment of all, his mouth feels dry, and his chest tightens as his heart accelerates.

He wants to tell you he loves you, and maybe he’s been reading the signs all wrong, but he thinks you love him too, he hopes you do. Maybe your affection for him doesn’t go past platonic, which he would learn to accept with time, but it would truly break his heart if you didn’t feel the same.

So he hopes, he prays, with all his heart, that when he tells you how he feels, you’ll reciprocate. You can tell what he wants to say, even with your lack of romantic experience, it’s obvious; no one commits to a gesture so thoughtful and romantic without the intent to become something greater. Given your time reading romance, that’s something you feel confident enough to say– Felix loves you. And you love him too. 

So you meet him halfway, inching ever so slightly closer to him, looking him in the eyes as you do. His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and then back again, his breath beginning to go uneven. Felix looks at you, eyes full of love, awe, and wonder, and not wasting another breath, he kisses you, his hands reaching to your face, holding it in his hands. It’s chaste and careful, your eyes remaining closed for several seconds after he’s pulled away, your body buzzing with elation. 

“I– I didn’t get to tell you earlier, but you looked so beautiful today and I–” he swallows, nervous to continue, but pushing through it the best he could, “I wanted to tell you, wanted to kiss you, and I.. love you.” It feels as if a million butterflies are in your stomach, light and erratic in their movement, their excitement unable to be contained.

“I love you too,” you admit, breathy and soft, inching a bit closer, and he does the same, until your bodies are only centimeters apart. “Is it okay to– ..I want to kiss you again,” he asks, desperately awaiting your approval. You grant him it easily, and his lips are on you again within seconds. 

One of his hands remains on your face, cupping it gently, while the other moves to your waist, arm wrapping around carefully, keeping you close. The foreign feelings you’d never experienced that were in all the literature you read– you feel them now, intense and overwhelming, your senses knowing nothing other than Felix.

What is it that novels usually compare it to? Sparks flying? This was beyond simple sparks– it was like fireworks, bright, beautiful, bursting in your blood and filling you with warmth. 

The kisses you share are slow, measured and careful, and you never separate for long, your lips always finding each other again within seconds. Felix is breathless when he finally pulls away for longer than a few seconds, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes looking straight into yours, countless emotions swimming in them.

“I want.. can I be honest?” he asks and you swallow, whispering a soft ‘yes’ that you hope doesn't sound too nervous. “I.. want you, really, really badly but.. truth be told, I'm nervous,” he expresses sincerely, his cheeks growing a deep shade of pink, traveling all the way up to the tips of his ears.

Your face, already flushed from kissing, grows impossibly hotter from his admission. He wants you.. Like wants you, wants you? You want him too, having spent multiple sleepless nights wondering what it would be like to have each other, body and soul. 

“It's alright, I am too,” you tell him honestly. “Are you?” he can't help but ask; not because he doubts you, but rather wanting the affirmation that he isn't the only one with a heart racing out of control. You nod, seeking out his hand and intertwining your fingers. “I am. But I want you too.”

God, he almost feels light headed; he can't believe the moment he's secretly dreamed of countless times is actually happening. His face is hot, his blood burns, his heart thumps loudly in his chest, and you want him, you want him, you want him.

He takes a breath, does his best to steel his nerves before he speaks again, “We'll go slow, so please tell me if it becomes too much.” You nod, giving his hand a squeeze, meant to convey that you understand and will do as he requested if you begin to feel overwhelmed.

“I love you,” Felix whispers against your lips before he captures them in another kiss, needier this time, more urgent and impassioned. You can't help but let out a noise of surprise at first, but you easily melt into the kiss, eyes closing as you meet his passion with fervor of your own. 

His kisses are slow, just as before, but they feel more purposeful, sensual, and when you feel his tongue against your lips, begging to be let in, you easily oblige the request, opening your mouth for him and allowing his tongue to run across yours. Your stomach flips, the feeling of his tongue curiously exploring and rubbing around yours making you dizzy; you never knew kissing could feel this good.

It's so intimate to share your breath with someone, and you feel your body react in ways entirely new, but pleasant. You spend several minutes just like this; kissing over and over, letting his tongue draw circles around yours, only pulling away when one of you desperately needs a breath. 

“Can I touch you?” Felix asks once he's pulled away again, and the question, along with the deep, breathy baritone of his voice, makes a shiver run down your spine as butterflies once again flutter in your stomach. “Yes,” you breathe, perhaps sounding a bit more eager than you would've wished, but really, you shouldn't feel embarrassed when he wants you just as bad as you want him. 

Again, his lips are on you, but this time he allows his hands to carefully roam your body, gentle and slow in their exploration. Even though he's simply touching you over your clothes, you react to his touch as if bare, whimpering into his mouth when he palms your breasts with both hands and gently squeezes. 

It's easy for his thumbs to find your hardened nipples through the fabric of your nightgown, and again you let a soft sound of pleasure pass your lips. Felix pulls away to look at you, flushed, breathless, and so, so pretty; he's never felt more blessed in his entire life than he does right now.

He watches you bite your lip when his thumbs pass over your nipples again, doing your best to suppress what you perceive to be an embarrassing noise. “Is it alright if I take this off you?” he asks, stilling the movement of his hands as he waits for your answer.

“O-Only if you take your clothes off too,” you answer shyly, and he smiles timidly, finding your request more than fair. “Of course, my love. Whatever you want.” Felix stands from the bed, slowly pulling his sleep shirt up and over his head, likely feeling that you'll be more comfortable if he's the one who's exposed first.

And God, you can't believe the physique he'd been hiding underneath all this time; his lean body much more toned than you could've even imagined. He feels shy under your attentive gaze, but he continues nonetheless, taking the waistband of his pants into his fingers and pulling them down his legs.

His erection, of course, doesn't go unnoticed by you, and you can't help but stare at the obvious tent it creates in his underwear. You've never seen one before, and you're infinitely curious what his looks like, but there's no need to rush to find out; you have all night together. 

Swallowing down the shyness your stare makes him feel, he returns to the bed, sitting directly in front of you. You start to lift up your gown, but he stops you, replacing your hands with his own– after all, he asked if he could be the one to take it off you. You allow him to lift it up to your shoulders before you help him take it all the way off, paying no mind to where on the floor it lands once it has been tossed aside. 

The shy part of you makes you want to cover your breasts and avoid his gaze, but the other part can't help but indulge in the mesmerized twinkle held in Felix’s eyes. “So beautiful,” you hear him say under his breath, his hands now making contact with your skin without a barrier. You look down, taking in the sight of his hands holding and squeezing your breasts. 

Your body shudders when his thumbs once again rub over you nipples, and he loves watching the way your face changes, how your brows furrow and you bite your lip. He loves the way you gasp when he takes your nipples between his fingers, how your eyes close and head falls back when he carefully rubs and pinches them. 

He kisses you when you lift your head again, but he doesn't linger there for nearly as long as before; instead, he begins to trail kisses down your jaw, to your neck. The kisses make you shiver, and you tilt your head to the side, allowing him easier access to your heated skin. He carefully guides you back as he kisses all over your skin, so that you fall back against the bed, head not quite making it to the pillows, but you don’t particularly care.

He takes his time, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses over the expanse of your neck, his slow descent to your collarbone and the top of your chest nearly driving you crazy with want. Your breath hitches when he kisses one of your nipples before letting his tongue come out to lick it, lips closing gently around it.

He gives your other nipple equal attention once he's satisfied with his stimulation of the first one he devoted his attention to, and then slowly trails kisses down your body, below your ribs and over your stomach. You feel almost delirious with anticipation, and you half wonder if he's only going slow to drive you crazy (he isn't, of course, but you're becoming much too needy to recognize that.)

Felix caresses your legs, placing kisses over your thighs, as well as just over your panties. There's an obvious wet spot, which you can't help but feel embarrassed by once you've seen that he's noticed. You can't help it– this is easily the most aroused you've been in your entire life.

“Want me to take them off?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, covering your face in embarrassment when he chuckles at you. “You're so cute when you're shy,” he says, and you let out a whine; why does he have to say it with such a sinfully attractive voice?

Your reactions boost his confidence, helping to alleviate some of the nerves he'd felt when you first began. And you really are so, so cute right now; it simultaneously further endears him to you and makes his cock throb. 

“I'm going to take them off now,” he warns since you aren't looking at him, and he wants you to be completely aware of what actions he takes. You peek through your fingers, nervously anticipating what his reaction to your exposed sex will be. He slowly pulls your underwear down your legs, and you take a deep breath before you part your legs for him to see you fully. 

Fuck, you're perfect. There is nothing in the world that could've prepared him for the sight of your glistening heat. He swallows and licks his lips, looking back at you before taking any further action. “Do you need to stop?” he asks, not wanting to push you too far if you aren't ready for this. Truthfully, you are overwhelmed– but in the best way possible, and you definitely don't want to stop here. 

“No, want more,” you admit, trying your best not to stutter or mumble so he hears you clearly. “Tell me if you change your mind?” he says, more like a question than a statement, and you nod, assuring him you will if you feel the need to. He lowers himself so his head is between your legs, and the sight of him there alone is positively dizzying. 

You hear him comment under his breath about how wet you are as his fingers rub through your folds, which does no favors for your racing heart. He then carefully spreads you apart with two fingers, and again, you see him swallow and lick his lips. Fuck, he has to taste you, needs to find out if you're just as sweet as he imagines you to be. 

Everything is so new to both of you, and Felix doesn’t entirely know what he’s doing, but instinct drives him forward. You gasp and shudder when his tongue makes contact with your dripping heat, slowly but greedily licking up all you offer him. When his tongue finds your clit (a pleasant accident on Felix’s part given his unfamiliarity with the female body), the pleasured noise that involuntarily escapes you tells him he should focus his attention there. 

“Feels good?” he asks before he licks again; he’s sure he knows the answer, but he still wants to hear you say it anyways. You nod quickly, another embarrassingly loud moan leaving your lips when his tongue swirls around your most sensitive spot. You’ve pleasured yourself before, in private moments with your own fingers, but nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to how Felix’s tongue feels. 

His lips wrap around your clit, as if kissing it, his tongue alternating between long, flat licks, quick flicks, and swirling around it, and you’re positively seeing stars, eyes rolling back as your head falls back against the mattress. You cover your mouth with your hand, your other hand desperately clutching at the sheets beneath you, legs trembling and thighs unconsciously closing around Felix’s head. 

You feel it, the familiar heat pooling deep in your stomach, your muffled moans quickly turning to desperate whines and whimpers as he drives you closer and closer to sweet release. You can tell however, that your orgasm will be much more intense than any you had ever given yourself, and it scares and excites you in equal measure. But fuck, even muffled, your noises sound so unbelievably sweet in his hears, and he wants to hear them louder, clearer. 

“Take your hand away, my love, I want to hear you,” he separates from your heat long enough to tell you, and you whine, this time in embarrassment, as you lift your head up to look at him. A mistake, in hindsight– the sight you’re met with being more erotic than your heart can handle. His mouth and chin glisten with your arousal, the sweat lingering on his brow making his hair stick to his forehead in a way that makes your heart want to give out– he’s just so.. alluring.

“But the guards,” you try, and he shakes his head, not at all deterred by the fact that they stand outside your bedroom doors. “Don’t care,” he says simply, and you can tell he’s completely serious. There aren’t many things Felix is selfish about in his life, but this, you– he’ll be as selfish as he pleases. “They’re just for me, right? So I don’t care if they hear them, because you’re mine, and they know that too. So please, let me hear you.” 

Oh, wow. How can you deny him after hearing that? With a shy nod, you agree to not cover your mouth anymore, and he smiles, pleased with your response, and quickly gets back to work between your legs. It’s insane how quickly your release builds back up, as if there was never a pause to begin with, and a curse leaves you between your loud, whiny moans and whimpers.

Felix has never heard you curse before, but he has to admit he likes how it sounds coming from you, and knowing he has caused you to become debauched enough to do so without being conscious of it. Before you know it, you’re seeing white, releasing all over his face as your body jolts and trembles, back arching from the bed as he continues to stimulate you through it.

You eventually whine and push his head away from you, becoming overstimulated from all the attention his tongue continued to give you after your orgasm. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he moves up your body, connecting his lips with yours again, and the taste of yourself lingering on him and his tongue makes your head spin. 

Your hands reach for his underwear, trying to pull down the fabric and spring his cock free; it’s a much more forward and desperate act than you ever imagined yourself doing, but you’re so hungry for him that you can no longer think about being demure. You just want him, more than you’ve ever wanted anything in all your years on this earth. Felix takes the hint, not that it’s even subtle enough to be a ‘hint,’ and makes quick work of taking off his underwear. 

The sight of his cock leaves you speechless, breathless; do they all look so simultaneously hot and pretty, or is it just because it belongs to Felix? “Can I..?” you ask, not entirely sure what you’re asking to do– you just know you want to make him feel as good as he made you feel. God, yes, please, Felix thinks, but he just nods with a slightly shy smile, shifting his weight off you and laying on his side next to you. 

You lay on your side as well, pressing a kiss to his lips as your hand reaches for his cock, fingers curiously running along his length, feeling every vein and ridge. Felix releases a shuddery breath against your mouth, your fingers feeling so different from his own, small and soft, but so, so good. Your touch is intoxicating, and his body jolts when you rub your thumb over the tip, spreading his pre-cum all over it. 

A soft groan escapes him when you enclose your fingers around his length, fingers not quite able to wrap completely around and meet your thumb, but it’s more than enough to have Felix feeling good when you start slowly moving your fist up to the tip and then back down. Eventually, as your fingers spread more and more of his pre-cum, his length becomes slick, and it becomes easier for you to pick up your pace, swallowing all the low groans he emits with your mouth.

But you can’t help but think– it felt so good when Felix used his tongue on you, so wouldn’t the same be true for him? Isn’t it worth trying? He opens his eyes when you take your hand away, watching curiously and with bated breath as you gently push him back by the shoulder, having him lay flat on his back as you move to lie comfortably against his legs, his cock a mere inches away from your face. 

He lifts himself up to watch you, supporting his weight with his forearms, breath quickening as you take him in your hand again, sticking your tongue out to curiously lick the tip. The taste of his pre-cum is unlike anything you’ve ever had, and while you don’t think there is anything you could compare it to, it’s not unpleasant. You look up at Felix through your lashes, and God, the sight of you, so pretty and perfect, with his cock in your hand and tongue licking away at him, is enough to drive him crazy. 

Would he fit inside your mouth? How good would it make him feel? Driven by curiosity and desire, you open your mouth, your tongue caressing the underside of his cock as you start to sink your head down on him, and the shaky, breathy groan he lets out in response makes your heart skip a beat and core throb. You keep your eyes on him, watching as his head falls back, his adam’s apple bob up and down, the way his stomach contracts the more you pleasure him. 

The sounds that escape him encourage you to keep trying your best to take more of him in your mouth, retreating just a bit when you’ve taken enough of him to cause yourself to gag. Felix has to make a conscious effort to not buck his hips up and drive himself further down your throat, lest he hurt you or make you gag again, but fuck, it feels unlike anything he’s ever felt before. He knows for a fact he’s going to cum if he lets you keep going much longer, and so, with a shaky breath, he asks you to stop.

You pull off of him the moment he asks, looking at him curiously; you knew he was feeling good, so why did he want you to stop? He sits up completely, capturing your lips in a kiss lest you worry about how well you did for him; you were perfect, you’ll always be perfect, and even if he’s at times too shy to convey that with words, he’ll make sure you know with his actions.

“I want to be inside you,” he tells you, lips still close enough to yours to easily kiss you again, to feel your breath against your skin, “do you want that too? Do you want me?” 

God, yes, you want him so fucking bad. Are you nervous? Of course you are, you’ve never been so intimate with someone before, but there’s no one in this world you would rather give yourself to than Felix. You want to be connected to him, physically, mentally, in all ways conceivable. He’s the one for you, the love of your life, the most perfect man you’d ever known, so there’s not a single doubt in your mind, or your heart, that he’s the one you want to do this with, and that you want to do it now.

“Yes,” you kiss him, “I want you,” another kiss, “so bad,” and another. He’s elated to hear you say it, his relief and joy going beyond words. He would’ve waited for you, of course he would’ve, but he can’t deny how much he craves being inside you, making love to you, pouring all his love and affection into you.

He loves you so, so much, and it’s reflected even in his most carnal of desires. It’s more than sex, it’s more than simply wanting to feel good; to be with you intimately is the greatest display of love you could ever share.

He lies you down carefully, making sure your head actually makes it to the pillows this time, and he situates himself between your legs, hands rubbing over your hips and thighs as he leaves another lingering kiss to your reddened lips. His hand comes between your legs, and he finds your hole with his fingers, wanting to make sure he knew where to aim his cock. You’re still so wet and warm, and the fact that he’s this close to being inside you feels like a blissful dream. 

Taking his cock in his hand and lining it up, he looks at you, wanting to make sure one last time that you want him to keep going. “Are you ready?” he asks and you nod, completely, 100% positive you want him inside you.

“Yes, I'm ready, please put it in,” you practically beg, and that’s all Felix needs to hear to continue. He starts to push in slowly, watching your face carefully for any discomfort or pain, stopping when he hears you let out a small hiss. 

“Are you okay? Do you need to stop?” Felix asks, using all of his self control to make sure he takes good care of you, and makes your first times as comfortable as possible. “I-I’m okay, just keep going slow,” you tell him and he nods, seeking out one of your hands and intertwining your fingers.

“Squeeze if you need to, okay? I won’t do anything to hurt you, my love, tell me to stop and I will.” You smile, already knowing he’d do his utmost best to make you feel safe, loved, and comfortable. It stings a bit, but it doesn’t necessarily hurt– and Felix’s soothing words, touch, and kisses do wonders in lessening the discomfort you initially felt.

Felix clenches his teeth once he’s fully sheathed inside your heat, your warm, wet walls tightly enveloping him making him almost overwhelmed from how good it feels. He thought your mouth was amazing, but this– God, it’s better than anything he could’ve ever imagined. 

You can see how much effort he’s pouring into staying still until you're ready for him to move– clenched jaw, furrowed brows, sweat dripping from his brow from concentration. Contrary to what he expected, he’s the one squeezing your hand, trying desperately to ground himself and not lose control of his body, to succumb to his senses. He’s breathing heavily, forehead once again pressing against yours, but you don’t mind in the slightest. 

You love how close he is, how full of him you feel, how the sting and discomfort slowly dissolves away, leaving nothing but the desire to feel him move inside you. “You can move, I’m ready,” you whisper, and carefully, slowly, he pulls out to the tip before pressing back in one gentle, fluid motion.

“It’s okay? Doesn’t hurt?” he asks and you shake your head, timidly smiling at him. “Feels good, keep going,” you tell him, and he easily obliges, wanting nothing more than to lose himself in the feeling of you.

He can’t help but groan, even with the slow pace he’s setting he just feels so good, and the way you look up at him doesn’t do him any favors. Your pretty eyes, your flushed face, the way your hair has messily fallen around you, the way you clench with every sound that tumbles from his lips, letting him know how much you like hearing him– everything, literally everything about you, about this moment, is a blessing to him. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, causing him to push in deeper, and his eyes roll back, head falling forward into your shoulder as another groan leaves him. He gradually starts to pick up his pace, always making sure you’re comfortable and enjoying it before he goes faster, experimenting with angles to find what feels best for you, because everything is already good for him. 

He knows he’s found the right angle when you let out a loud gasp, followed by a moan when he thrusts again, and again, your hand tightly squeezing his, though he knows it’s purely because of the pleasure, and not at all because he’s hurting you or you need him to stop. You curse under your breath again, your nails starting to dig into the flesh under his knuckles, your other hand clutching once again at the sheets beneath you. 

“Feels good? Tell me, tell me it feels good,” Felix practically begs in your ear, his deep voice growing higher in pitch as he drives himself closer to release, his groans turning into desperate sounding whines. “So good, fuck, love you so much, feels so good,” you babble, and Felix whines louder, hips stuttering as he continues fucking into you.

He intended for this moment to be sweet and sensual until the end, but he really didn’t anticipate how your walls around his cock would drain him of his composure. You don’t seem to mind in the slightest however– in fact, you seem to be enjoying the moment just as much as him, your legs starting to tremble as your second orgasm looms closer and your moans and whines grow in volume.

He crashes his lips into yours, your kisses turning much less romantic than before, having devolved into a messy, desperate display of tongue and teeth. It’s a different sort of display of passion, but it is passion all the same, and you couldn’t ask for anything better than this; Felix is perfect in everything he does, and this is no exception. 

You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, and you know he must be close; so you keep your legs tightly wrapped around him, making sure that when his cum shoots inside you, it’ll be as deep as it can get. Feeling close yourself, and wanting to cum with him, you bring your free hand to your clit, rubbing it in the quick circles you know feels best for you. Within seconds, you’re cumming around his cock, and the way you squeeze and clench around him is enough to send him straight into his, his cum shooting out in long spurts, filling you to the brim. 

You’re both breathless, hearts racing and bodies hot, and after collecting his breath, Felix kisses you again, not messy or desperate as just moment priors, but full of love, truly the happiest he has ever been. He doesn’t pull out of you until he feels himself start to soften, and he mutters for you to wait there for a moment and stay still as he rushes to the attached bathroom for a tissue to clean you up.

You wince a little, a bit tender and sensitive from all the attention you received, but Felix is gentle and careful, as he is with everything when it comes to you. When he’s done, you make your way under the blankets, shifting over to your side of the bed, waiting for him to blow out the candles and settle in next to you.

Should you both get dressed? Maybe, but neither of you particularly want to– there’s something special and intimate in staying just as you are now, bare in each other's arms. He holds you close, as he always does, kissing the top of your head, and smiling when you look up at him from where your head lies against his chest.

“I love you so much,” he tells you and you smile too, pecking him on the lips and hugging him tight. “I love you too,” you whisper as you close your eyes, exhaustion quickly settling over you. You never imagined how happy you would one day become the day you became Felix’s wife, and now you know that it was actually a blessing in disguise, something you didn’t know you needed. 

From the moment he first saw you, Felix knew you were the one, instantly enamored with you. He hoped with all his heart his marriage was one he could be happy in, that his wife would be someone he could truly love, and you answered his prayers from the very moment you entered his life. He doesn’t want to say it was love at first sight, but somehow, he just knew– you were perfect, the one he was destined to be with and love with all his heart, his soulmate. 

It sounds like a cliche he’d find in one of your romance novels, but it’s genuinely how he feels. No one in this world would ever compare to you, and he’d forever be grateful to his parents, your parents, and even God himself, for putting you on this earth at the same time as him, and allowing you to be his wife.

He wishes he had words stronger than “I love you,” or that he knew how to articulate himself in a way that would explain the depths of how he feels, but he supposes those simple words will have to do. He loves you, and there has never been anything he's been more certain of than that. 

[gryphonlover]

Linked Universe AU Directory

Anyway, I didn't put every single AU on this thing. I do not have the time and energy for that because there's over 600 LU works tagged as alternate universes on Ao3. I did follow some general guidelines when I was deciding which works to add, the most important one being that the AU had to be more than just canon divergence and had to affect all the characters equally. Feel free to add onto this post, if you think something is missing.

Link to the Ao3 Collection

Age Swap | Age Shuffle AU

Apocalypse - Unspecified | Brothers In Arms

Apocalypse - Zombies | Autolysis

Apocalypse - Zombies | LU Zombie AU

Fae | Across the River

Fae | Flower Garden

Fae | From Open Seas, to Dark Tangled Depths

Folklore | If You Thought This Was Gonna Have a Cool Title, You Obviously Don't Know Me

Fusion - Alice's Adventures in Wonderland | Hyrule's Adventures in Wonderland

Fusion - Among Us | Good Riddance

Fusion - Atlantis: The Lost Empire | The Sage's Journal

Fusion - Big Hero 6 | Fierce Hero 9

Fusion - Captain America: Civil War | United We Stand, Divided We Fall

Fusion - Dungeons & Dragons | LU x DnD Crossover

Fusion - Full House | Full House AU

Fusion - Lethal Company | Linked Company AU

Fusion - Lethal Company | Linked Universe AU: Lethal Company

Fusion - Mad Max | And the World Ends Again

Fusion - Monstrous Regiment | Linked Regiment

Fusion - Nailed It! | You Really Nailed it Right There, Buddy!

Fusion - Pokémon | LU Pokémon AU

Fusion - Pride and Prejudice | Pride and Prejudice but it's a Fair-Play Whodunnit

Fusion - Tangled | LU Tangled AU

Fusion - The Hunger Games | LU Hunger Games AU

Fusion - The Incredibles | Linked Universe Incredibles AU

Fusion - The Secret World of Arrietty | The Secret World of Wild and Twilight

Fusion - Spirited Away | One Summer's Day

Fusion - Star Wars | Tales of Courage from Across the Galaxy

Fusion - Warrior Cats | Faronclan AU

Gods & Goddesses | And the Universe Said "I Love You"

Heist | Heist AU

Historical - 1800s | City of Light and Dark

Historical - Supernatural | 1931

Science Fiction - Space Crew | Linked Nexus

Mermaids | Flared Fins

Miscellaneous - Disability | Shatterproof

Miscellaneous - Intrigue | Castle Intrigue

Miscellaneous - Magic | We Could be Immortals

Miscellaneous - Unspecified | Eyes Wide Open

Miscellaneous - Unspecified | Manus Lupus

Modern | Adoption AU

Modern | Good Enough

Modern | In the Heart of Hyrule

Modern | LU Modern AU

Modern | Modern Zeldas AU

Modern | Ranch House AU

Modern | The Many Realities of the Hero Spirit and Modern Living

Modern | The Roadtrip AU

Modern | The Weather Outside is Frightful

Modern - Actors | Linked Universe Actor AU

Modern - Coffeeshop/Café | Looking for Group

Modern - College/University | All You Need to Know

Modern - College/University | Linked University

Modern - College/University | Oh No, They're Theater Kids Now

Modern - College/University | RIP

Modern - Emergency Services | Of Officers and Stuffed Elephants

Modern - Farm | Fresh from the Farm

Modern - Ghost Hunters | A Haunting in Hyrule

Modern - Healthcare | How to Save a Life

Modern - Healthcare | LU in Healthcare

Modern - Magic | Everything but Blood

Modern - Magic | Family is Made of...

Modern - Magic | Maybe Human 

Modern - Magic | Summer Camp Lon!

Modern - Magic | The Chain that Binds Us

Modern - Magic | Wild's Magic Shop AU

Modern - Monsters | Here There Be Monsters

Modern - Movie Theater | There's a Remlit... Loose in the Theater!

Modern - Music Camp | Linked Repertoire

Modern - Newsroom | BSX: Hyrule SatellaNews

Modern - Newsroom | Professions and Professionals

Modern - Office | Linked Corporations

Modern - Opera | Opera House AU

Modern - Retail | The Hot Topic Debate

Modern - Retail | What Goes Down at Festival Foods

Monsters | Seelies and Selkies

Murder Mystery | How to Kill a God

Post-Nuclear War | Chain Reaction

Royalty | Every Other Star

Royalty | I'll Be There

Royalty | Royal Links AU

Royalty | Lost Prince AU Part 1 & Lost Prince AU Part 2

Soulmates - Platonic | Marks on Your Body, Marks on Your Soul

Soulmates - Romantic | Castle Town Coffee Shop

Vigilantes | Empty Streets Full of Life

Vigilantes | We Will Find You, Wherever You Are

Wings | Four's a Dad!?

Wings | Wings AU

Wings | Wing Bois

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

tags: satoru gojo x f!reader, bridgerton!au, reader and gojo are acquaintances, brief mention of satoru's mom passing when he was young. also please don't come at me if I got the garter belt/stocking thing wrong (I did a quick google search) so may not be historically accurate. (this could be a part two to this story that is also bridgerton gojo based).

“my lord,"

"please," he says, "gojo is fine."

"mr. gojo," you say, because frankly gojo feels too personal though it had been the last name his friends, such as lord nanami, have refered to him by. he stands at a respectable distance from you, watching over as you sit on a stone bench around the garden of lord kusakabe's home. your family visit had served to wish him congratulations after recuperating from a terrible cold this past winter. now, lord kusakabe stands as he used to, laughs as he holds a cigar between his lips as guests enjoy tea and play outdoor games.

though a lady like you, having a wardrobe malfunction, thinks it's best to hide behind a maze as you fail to adjust the garter belt that pulls up your warm stockings that keep the cold air from entering your skin. lord gojo stands at a respectable distance, towards your right as he attempts to look over your shoulder. your cling onto your left garter, saving any decency you can maintain.

you had met gojo through the first spring dance of the season, right after you had danced with higuruma. taken aback by his intial comments on how lord higuruma was a terrible choice for a satoru, and by your naivety by speaking your mind (respectably, of course) in front of someone so.... well of. regarded as royalty by even the queen herself. lord gojo did not hold your behavior against you, and to that you were partially thankful of. your honor must remain impeccable as your mother's. everyone has a standard to uphold, no?

what set you apart, nearly three weeks into the season from most, was lady whistledown's kind and praiseful remarks during the ball. it would be later made aware that perhaps you could be the diamond of the season. who knew as meeting the queen was only a week away.

so you had to keep your reputation as clean as possible.

"my lady, are you alright?" your jaw tightened at his words. you guessed perhaps your body tightened as well since the man approaches you carefully, slowly. waiting to see if you put a stop to him.

"yes, quite alright thank you." you laugh nervously, "just... a bit worn out from today's activities." he noticies you hold your leg.

"is your... leg alright?" he asks. you don't know how you do it, but when he suggests to get help, you stop him. it would be far worse for him to get help from others while you're here, with an intimate wardrobe malfunction.

"no! just... leave me be," he eyes you.

"I can assure you, leaving a lady in distress goes against my honor code. tell me, is there anything I can do?"

you hesitantly bite your bottom lip.

"it's... it's a wardrobe, malfunction, my lord." your eyes don't meet his as your cheeks burn under the sun. he looks at your figure, not sensing anything wrong at first glance.

"underneath."

"oh," he remains quiet for several seconds. "may I... may I know what it is?"

"my garter belt."

"what do you need to do?"

"I need to hook the end of the belt to the opening of the stocking, but..." you sigh, "it won't work."

"may I have a glance?" he asks, and you guess he senses the panic in your eyes and silence as he holds his hands up. "I promise I won't do anything, in fact, I'm sure your family might suspect your absence relatively soon if you don't return." but that isn't what worries you.

"I can't have a man that isn't my husband to do something like that," you try your best to not snap, "if anyone were to see or hear about this, my reputation would be ruined."

"not with me it won't." he says, "if you allow me to help, neither one would speak of this, and we can return back to the estate as if nothing happened. I don't wish to ruin the life of someone so...."

"so....?"

"someone honorary," he swallows, "respectable. most women your age enjoy ruining other people's lives, spreading misinformation to cause harm, and do anything as selfish as one can imagine."

"how would you know that?" you question almost bluntly, "you... you don't know me."

"I'm afraid you yourself aren't quite aware of the impression you have made on others, miss." he says as he slowly approaches, getting as far as to his knees to assist. "now please, allow me to assist you."

your lungs paused for what felt like an eternity. you didn't know what was more intimate, either his soft spoken words or his delicate fingers on your belt, causing your heart to beat loudly it would possibly errupt from your chest.

"how do you know how to do this?" you find yourself whispering. the lord looks up at you for what you can finally see up close are mesmerizing blue eyes, bluer than anything you've seen or dreamed of before he says.

"I used to watch my mother dress herself when I was a boy," he clarifies, "she passed before I turned 7."

[channieskies]

Chapter II: The Heir of New Aeris

Pairing: Prince Hyunjin x Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Historical|Au, Fantasy|Au, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty|Au, Angst, Smut, NSFW tags are under the cut.

Synopsis: The kingdom of Volantis is in disarray; the monarch rules with an iron fist. The times of hope, harmony, and kindness were buried with the queen who passed many years ago. The people are praying for a savior, but who will be their light at the end of this dark tunnel?

Authors Note: Please reblog or leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites.

Word Count: 1691 [Reading Time: 7 mins]

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Story Index

Warnings⚠️: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites. Mentions of Death (minor character)

The room had fallen into chaos. Confusion settling into the cracks of each duke's polished demeanor, all but one. “If the next child she bears is a girl, we will have to crown some other next of kin as the heir. Donnius, track down the king's sister and her son.” The rotund man told a servant who quickly skittered off to do as told.

“He would never be fit for king with his.. iniquitous habits. I object to the suggestion.” Another waved off the idea, his nose held high in the air with disgust.

“There is a distant cousin on his mothers side- Never mind that, Her appearance was just deceiving.” The hope quickly disappeared from another man's voice as he examined the royal family's tapestry.

A man sat quietly at the head of the table, watching the spectacle in front of him unfold. Had they forgotten the truth? Forgotten the old kingdom before darkness had fallen over it with the death of their queen? He groaned, stroking his gray lined beard. It was clear he was tired of watching things unfold as they were. 

“Have you truly forgotten how our Queen died?” The men in the room came to a halt as his booming voice filled the space. “She made the sacrifice of giving her life for the heir to this kingdom. Do not forget that. Don't EVER forget that.”

The rotund man cleared his throat before speaking, “No one has seen or heard from the prince in over a decade. Who is to say he's even still… with us, Ermias?” The man called Ermias stood from his seat, towering over everyone in the room.

“He is alive and safe.” He made his way to the door. “I will leave in the morning to retrieve the only option we have. Keep the kingdom and the royal family safe while I am away. If something goes awry, send my daughter on the fastest steed you have.”

“Your daughter?” The man in front of the tapestry laughed. Why would we send a woman when we have plenty of able-bodied, capable men that can do the job?” The other men in the room looked wide eyed at his sudden outburst. One even mouthed “You fool” as the words left his mouth. 

“Because my daughter is one of the most capable and trustworthy people in this kingdom. Because my daughter is more skilled than all of your men combined. So, I trust that my daughter will be informed of any mishaps, correct? Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a trip to prepare for.”

Ermias was the Duke of State for the Kingdom of Aeris, the newest acquisition of land conquered by King Seojoon. It was named after the king's late wife Aeri, after a war that lasted five years. Ermias was a general in the king's army and after his procurement of the land left him with a limp, he was promised a high position in the government. He worked through the ranks, becoming one of the king's most trusted advisors.

But Ermias hated politics. He considered himself to be more of a doer instead of one that dictated what the doers should do. Commanding an army felt completely different than what it was he did now. But at the behest of his wife and two daughters, he knew resuming his work as the general was not an option. So, he begrudgingly took a seat on the high council, helping to govern over the southern states of the king's land.

The commute home was tedious. His home was far from the castle town of  Volantis and even further from the new Kingdom of Aeris. He lived with his family on a plot of land that was left to his wife, passed down from generation to generation. An apple farm, with the most deliciously sweet fruits hanging from its trees. Their home was modest, just a few stories with a few rooms. The greatest in which was the library, intellect was the thing they held in most regard. The small castle almost swallowed up the vast land that surrounded its pale crape bricks. With an orchard, vineyard, and gardens bordering it, it nearly blended into its surroundings with all of the ivy covering its facade. He truly found his home to be as beautiful and inviting as the women who lived in it.

His long trip home concluded in the wee hours of the morning. He expected no one to be awake, so he was shocked when he found his eldest daughter camped out at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for his arrival. “Father!” She jumped to her feet and into his arms, hugging him tightly. “How was the council meeting?” She moved to help him out his coat and shoes. “Have they all settled on an heir? Are they going to retrieve the prince?” She knew all about the Prince and how he'd been hidden away during the war. Ermias sighed, slipping his shoes off and pulling his daughter with him to his study so that they could talk more privately. 

See, Ermias had a son once, one that was seventeen years his first daughter's senior. Nikolas was the first born to the family. Both he and his wife Semira were very young when he was born. They were newly married when they got the news that they were expecting, but happy nonetheless. He lived to the age of twenty and he died fighting in the war alongside his father Ermias. He vowed that he'd never lose a child like that again. He taught his daughters in the years after how to not only defend themselves, but how to think  defensively and also know when to back down.

He was happy knowing that his girls would never have to fight in a war, especially unprepared. But, if need be, they could protect their home, their mother, and each other. “Sit. I'll tell you all about it.” His walk was heavy, tired from years of war and hard day's of travel. “They presumed the prince was dead. That is if they hadn't forgotten he'd existed entirely.” He shuffled through his desk, looking for something the king had given him many years before. “

“I have a feeling that a few councilors are trying their best to find someone they can control to put in the prince's place, just to amass power. We can't let them have their way, Volantis will fall and the kingdom will be in disarray. We are just recovering from the war, the people cannot suffer through another. I will pack my bags and make the trip to the Isle of Arcta in the mor-”

“No, father.” His daughter shook her head. “Send me and one of your best men. The trip is far too treacherous for you to travel. I know you'd never admit to it, but I know you've been ill these last few weeks. The stress of your job and having to help with some of the king's duties are taking a toll on you. So, I will go in your stead.” Ermias couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. His precious daughter had grown to become a strong and beautiful woman. He found the small pendant that he'd stored away for safe keeping. It was a symbol of how he'd helped the king secure the lands that were now under rule of the throne. One that would be recognized by the maid that kept watch over the prince.

“My darling daughter, my how you've grown.” He stood to his feet, remembering the last time a child of his took on a task this heavy. There was a display on his bookcase of swords he cherished too much to use. One of which was his son's, the one he was clutching as he died on the battlefields. It was one of Ermias’ most prized possessions, something that his father passed on to him and he passed on to his son. Now, he was passing it on to his daughter, along with the king's guard pendant he'd stored away.

Shaky hands grabbed the sheath and hilt of the old sword. He sighed, the metal feeling heavy in his hands with thoughts of the burdens of war, plaguing his mind. “This does not mean I want you to fight. I’m passing you this sword to protect yourself, to protect the prince.” He finally turned around, presenting the great sword to his daughter. The hilt was ornate gold and ivory, while the ricasso had the family's coat of arms; the raven on an apple. 

The rest of the blade had the family's motto written down in latin; “Po familia vivimus et pugnamus.” For family, we live and we fight. Then he placed the necklace around her neck, moving her hair out of the way to fasten it. The pendant sat low on her chest, falling between her breasts, where thankfully it would be hidden. If the wrong people were to see it, it would cause unnecessary trouble for her, and that was something he didn't want.

The sword was something that his daughter was told not to touch when she was a child. After his son lived and died by the sword, he was afraid she would suffer the same fate. The last thing he wanted was to lose his daughter the way that he lost his son. “Wake Minho, tell him to pack for the trip.” Minho was the duke's housecarl, he’d been with the family since boyhood. Ermias found him nearly dead in the woods during the war. 

Bandits found him and his mother, running from the onslaught of war that had overtook their small town. They did unspeakable things to his mother, killing her in the process. They nearly killed him too; beating the child until he was bloody and almost unrecognizable. Because of the trauma of that day, he hasn't uttered a word since. “I’ll prepare your carriage and horses.” He kissed his daughter's forehead, lips lingering there as if this would be the last time he’d ever get the chance to see her again. 

A.N: Please reblog or leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

[Rewrites, Reposts, and Translations are Prohibited]

[svtdarlingbby]

You'll Never Be a Secret of Mine- Yeosang x Reader

pairing: prince!Yeosang x courtesan!Reader genre: historical royal au word count: 946

"Someone like me isn't supposed to be with someone like you," you bit, abruptly turning your body away from him to hide the tears welling up in your eyes. The ornate jewelry that adorned you jingled, the wistful chimes practically echoing your status as a courtesan.

Yeosang's silence allowed the weight of your status to settle in the distance created between your two bodies, further illustrating the insurmountable gap between a mere courtesan and a prince like himself.

A single tear rolled down your blushed cheeks. The weight of the warm tear was probably enough to smudge your makeup that you could never be caught not wearing. However, Yeosang has seen your bare face enough times to count, never once complaining and only showering you with praise for both your beauty and kindness. This thought alone encouraged more tears to fall as you tried to battle with the cold truth at hand: Yeosang had fallen for you, and you also returned those feelings.

It was no surprise that this happened. In your line of work, it was known that men with power frequented the brothel. From politicians to generals and even royalty, you've seen your fair share of clients. However, Yeosang was different. He never seemed to be interested in fooling around like the men he was surrounded by. He didn't want it right away, no. He made an effort to get to know you. What your interests were and your likes and dislikes. At first, you were dumbfounded by his actions but you quickly found yourself viewing Yeosang as more than a client. Discussing books and poetry was one of your favorite activities with him. He'd bring you the prettiest roses from the market because the scent reminded him of you as you'd recite some new lines of a poem you drafted the night before. You'd spend your nights not in bed but rather stargazing on the damp lawn with your head resting against his chest as you two interpreted the constellations gazing upon you two like you were the only ones in the world. And when you were in bed together, you realized that this was something else. It wasn't lust. It was something meaningful. Perhaps it was love. Everyone from his world and your world only assumed the typical was occurring between you two. Business transactions if you will. Everyone knew that the courtesans were mere toys for the elite.

But alas, the prince had just confessed his love for you. The forbidden was happening. Maybe reality had not settled for Yeosang yet, but you knew the consequences of giving into these feelings. Your field consisted of transactions, and there was no room for love in a world of lust and money.

The hot pools of tears stung your eyes as you kept your back turned from Yeosang. You fiddled with the delicate gold around your wrists. They have never felt more like handcuffs until now.

"Y/N," spoke up Yeosang softly but boldly. Your lack of response encouraged him to continue. "You're the smartest and most intelligent woman I have ever met. In a world like this, where men like me are expected to find entertainment in the hands of women like you, you only showed me your real self. I don't want you for your body or looks or anything like that. I love you for you."

You stayed silent as the tears began to stream down your cheeks. You couldn't bear hearing more, yet you let him continue.

"I love you for your intelligence across all subjects. Your knowledge and curiosity never ceases to amaze me, and I couldn't find anyone in the palace that knows as much as you," continued Yeosang as he took a step forward.

"I love your love for life. You see the beauty in all things, even someone like me. Some prince that was forced to be here to learn how to act more 'royal'. You taught me true love, something that no one in this Godforsaken palace knows," spoke Yeosang, stepping closer to you.

"And how could I forget your laugh? I know we discuss poetry all the time, but I can't find any words to describe just how much I love your laugh. You make me feel safe, like I can actually be a human instead of some prince," Yeosang spoke softly, now standing directly behind you.

He raised a delicate hand onto your shoulder, his touch comforting amidst your emotions.

"Your status never mattered to me. Y/N L/N, you'll never be a secret of mine," whispered Yeosang, his honesty sending chills down your body. "I want to give you a better life with all the poetry and roses you deserve. And no one, not even our statuses are going to stand in the way. I'm going to protect you forever."

His words squeezed your aching heart. The knot in your throat only became tighter as you considered what he said. It was clear as day that he meant every word, but you knew that it would be hard for you to ever be accepted as a royal. But you also knew that you could not live a life without Yeosang in it. Sighing, you turned around bearing your tear stained face to your love. Yeosang's eyes softened as he delicately wiped your tears with his thumbs before pulling you into his chest. This action combined with his words was enough to make you cry again.

"I love you so much Yeosang," you muttered against his chest as he ran a comforting hand over your back and through your hair.

"I love you too Y/N. It'll be okay. I promise."

[hedwig221b]

HIIII can you list some of your favourite angst heart-wrenching sobbing sliding down the walls fics ? idc if it’s short or long i need some angst rnn please and thank uuu <3

Hi, sweetie! This was difficult for me, bc I'm a sucker for angst, basically all I read is angst and I have like 200 fics saved. Here's a looong list of the ones which I know for sure I can always come back to for some good old angst.

STEREK ANGST FIC RECS from HEDWIG221B

By Any Other Name by entanglednow

(Explicit, 33k, Amnesia, Violence)

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

all roads they lead me here by spaceprincessem

(Teen, 39k, Mates, Emissary Stiles)

“Then why wouldn’t you be Derek’s emissary?” Stiles asked. He just wished Deaton would get to the fucking point. He was tired and he hated playing twenty questions to figure out what the older man was getting at.

“Derek’s emissary needs to be someone who he trusts completely,” Deaton explained, “and it’s time I passed on my wisdom and expertise to that person.”

The beat of silence between them stretched for too long before Stiles realized exactly who Deaton was talking about.

“Me?” He asked incredulously.

A Princely Knight by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(Mature, 25k, Medieval, Royalty, Pining)

He would stand by Stiles’ side, a constant shadow of protection until his death. A life for a life, one worth much more than an orphan turned thief turned royal guard could comprehend.

In truth, Derek saw the one person he would gladly give his life for, because Stiles made this world better.

~*~

Or, Stiles is a prince and Derek is his knight.

won't you torture someone else's sleep by redeyedwrath

(Gen, 3,6k, Pining)

I love you, Derek thinks, but he doesn’t say it, just watches Stiles throw his head back in laughter that isn’t for him and never will be. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Maybe if he thinks it hard enough, Stiles will hear him.

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

(Explicit, 33k, ABO, Mating Run, Bad Peter)

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles.

But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

To Whom The Wolf King Bows by MadcapRomantic

(Explicit, 108k, 14/?, Courting, Fantasy, Royalty)

Stiles Stilinski meets The Wolf King, the very boogeyman he'd spent his younger years terrified of; yet the man is little, if anything, like the tales he's heard. But, Stiles has spent the last ten years of his life as a slave, under the harsh whip of the cruel King Gerard Argent, and trusting Derek - trusting anyone - is beyond difficult.

xcaellachx

Just check out this author, there's some major angst in a lot of their works, a lot of ABO

Hung The Moon by nrnyx

(Explicit, 85k, ABO, Pack Dynamics, Heavy Angst)

Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.

A gift worth giving by Nival_Vixen

(Mature, 2k, Historical Fantasy, Royalty)

A person’s virginity is not only the physical act itself, but also an object that can be gifted to someone else. Stiles has given his virginity to Derek, one of the soldiers in the King’s Guard. Despite his parting promise to return the next month, Derek still hasn’t returned two months later, and Stiles doubts that he ever loved him at all.

The Bargain by dr_girlfriend

(Teen, 9,7k, Arranged Marriage, Regency AU)

Time drags on, and it becomes apparent that this is not a part of the tradition. The wolves start to shift on their feet and murmur, but no one attempts to speak to Stiles. He stands, feeling the back of his neck growing red from the sun and his face growing red from embarrassment.

What will happen if Derek Hale cannot be coerced to the altar? Will the bargain be revoked?

Perception by DiscontentedWinter

(Mature, 5,4k, Horror, Nogitsune, Murder)

Peter Hale's client is a murderous sociopath. The best thing Peter can do is get him committed to Eichen House, where he'll never see daylight again.

He thinks.

The Omega Spark by misteeirene

(Explicit, 62k, ABO, Alive Hales, Pack Dynamics)

John lived a sad and lonely life after the death of his wife, until one day when he noticed someone had breaking into his home while he was at work.

Second Chances by rootbeer

(Gen, 2,6k, Soulmates)

"A lot of times the ‘markings’ were common, simple things you said to strangers all the time. 'Excuse me'; 'thank you'; 'hello'. Some got extremely romantic things like 'it’s you isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for you' or 'Wow you’re really pretty'. And they were always the first words their soulmate would ever say to them.

Of course, having 'You are the fucking worst kind of person in the world' tattooed down your side, didn’t bode well. How fucked up was Stiles Stilinski that even his fucking Soulmate hated him? High School had been a special kind of hell when all the kids learned what his tattoo said—despite his best efforts to keep it a secret."

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(Teen, 7,6k, ABO, Full-shift werewolves, Pack Dynamics)

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.

“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.

“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.

“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

I Shouldn't Love you Anymore by wulfarchival (wyrmwolf)

(Mature, 2,2k, Established sterek, Feral Derek)

After Stiles divorces Derek under mysterious reasons, Derek moves out into the middle of nowhere loosing himself to the wolf after the ache in his chest becomes too much. But after weeks of being lost to an animal someone he thought he'd never see again returns in his life.

This time to stay forever.

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress

(Explicit, 112k, ABO, Secret Relationship)

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Life After This by Nimpalous

(Mature, 5,1k, Violence, MCD, Soul Bond, I consider this having a HE)

Feeling his weight shift backwards over the ledge when another bullet hit, Stiles closed his eyes and whispered the name of his beloved as he fell.

“Derek…”

Derek woke up with an agonising scream, his body curling in on itself in pain. He wasn’t aware of having wolfed out, he didn’t know he was clawing himself as he clutched at his head, willing the agony to go away… but to no avail.

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

(Mature, 70k, Time Travel, Mates, ptsd!Stiles)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them."

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

It seems wasted now by DaaroMoltor

(Teen, 48k, Slow Burn, Miscommunication, Stiles is pushed out of the pack)

It's been months. Months of lonely days and lonelier nights.

And Stiles can't understand what he did wrong.

Under Glass by calrissian18

(Mature, 6,6k, Pining, Cursed Stiles)

The pack goes looking for a cursed artifact. Stiles would really like to go back to the time before he found it, thanks.

Time To Say Goodbye by matildajones

(Teen, 34k, Time Travel, Mates, HE)

Derek finds an older version of himself at his front door, along with Stiles, a boy from the future.

Emissary by dragon_temeraire

(Teen, 3,7k, Alive Hales, Bonding)

To keep the peace, Stiles agrees to be emissary to the Hale pack.

One Thread by RurouniHime

(Mature, 11k, Established sterek, Grief, HE)

In the middle of the night, his dad comes into the room and crawls onto the bed behind him, easing Stiles into the vee of his legs. He settles back against the headboard with a groan and doesn’t say anything for a long time. Stiles wraps his arms around one of his dad’s legs, presses his cheek to warm flannel, and tries to be still.

“Oh, kid,” his dad exhales. His hand comes down on the side of Stiles’ neck and his fingers press gently. “I never wanted you to know this pain.”

(Or, Derek dies. Stiles reacts Badly.)

[sungbeam]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧

prince!ji changmin x f!reader (slight juyeon x reader)

1.0k words, my emotional support royalty au, high-key historical au, lots of not-dialogue, literally i don't think swan song will ever fully see the light of day but i love it a little too much to keep her buried

a/n: this is serpent & dove's partner,, except i set the stage for a villain arc bc who doesn't love a villain arc

The moment Ji Changmin stopped wishing to be a part of the family was the one wherein you made your debut into society. There were rules to the royal court, rules that Changmin had long since been schooled in. There were boxes he was placed within, boundaries he was not meant to cross, but there were few invisible, unspoken hierarchies that were always enforced that he had to pick out on his own.

He was only eighteen when he found your familiar eyes, shining in glazed-over discomfort, as you curtsied low at the top of the stairs and made your descent. An official had announced your arrival at the door, and he already spied the dance card dangling from your wrist.

Unspoken Rule One: Bastard children never got first pick.

The main ballroom of the palace was decorated immaculately for this year's debutante ball. Heavy silks embroidered in fine, gold thread were draped from the crystalline window panes; the chandeliers glistened with beads of light like fiery embers; the dance floor was polished and his suit was tight. He couldn't remember tying his tie on so tightly, but the way you looked tonight made him want to break form and loosen the grip of his collar around his neck.

He had never seen you in such tightly laced garb, and he had never seen you so nervous. You, Yn Ln, beloved middle child of the phoenix-represented Ln family—the phoenix a symbol of how generations of your family long ago had risen from the ashes of destitution to the mighty lordship of its current day and age. Your good name automatically thrust you into the limelight, whether you liked it or not.

You were eighteen years old, same as Changmin. You had asked your handmaiden to lace your corset up a little tighter, opting for the one that was made specifically for occasions such as these. It had not been your choice to don the dark, blood red brocade for tonight's festivities—it had been your mother's. You hadn't realized your family even cared to show off their middle child, but you supposed if they could ship you off as quickly as possible, it would be one less daughter to pay attention to.

Unspoken Rule Two: Daughters never got to choose.

It was difficult to not meet his eyes—the pair that you recognized so easily from the academy. The pair you often found yourself staring into as they laughed, as they pondered, as they brooded. He was beautiful, the kind of strength that wasn't brutish, but softer. He was a snake amongst wolves, perhaps the predator that no one ever saw coming.

Your dance card was empty, but his name seared itself into each slot, stealing away each dance like he had stolen a bit of you after all this time. (Or maybe all of you. You wouldn't have minded if that were the case.)

It wouldn't have been appropriate if he left his place from the dais first. It definitely would not have been appropriate if he had left the dais before every other girl was introduced. The room was full of chaperones and young men eyeing their prospects as they filed in, one by one.

(A room of hungry wolves encasing the pack of sheep who had waltzed in, bedazzled and smiling.)

You knew the game though, and you figured two negatives would have to make a positive. Right? That was how it could work. That was the loophole you and Changmin had concocted all those late nights spent in the academy library, tucked away in the corner of the myths and legends aisle, huddled together, conspiring a way to come out of this alive.

Not just alive, but together.

Unspoken Rule Three: Watch out for the wolves.

You were already on your way toward his side of the dais. The half prince was beautiful, but he was only second in line. He had half the blood of royalty; how many would seek him out first?

And there was a spike of hope in your heart. It singed through your glazed expression and made the corners of your cherry-stained lips turn upward in that sickening feeling of hope.

Eyes pinned to the other, you could see the glee in his own expression. It was going to work. This would work how you'd planned, how you'd hoped, how you'd schemed and mapped. You two knew the food chain better than anyone else—it simply had to.

But the room fell quiet as a form stepped before you, blocking your view of the second prince. He was just as beautiful as his half brother, the gold crown seated upon his raven locks a beacon of pride and power. He had kind eyes, a pair you weren't as familiar with, but knew well enough. His suit was tailored perfectly to his body, his smile gracious and almost shy.

"Lady Yn," Crown Prince Juyeon said to you as you dropped into a curtsey and he, a bow, "may I have the honor of stealing your first dance?"

The room was silent. You swore your heart beat thundered against the golden walls of the ballroom.

You couldn't say no. Not to the crown prince. Not in front of everyone.

Perhaps there were things you and Changmin hadn't taken into account.

Unspoken Rule Four: The Crown Prince always gets what he wants.

By some miracle, you found your voice and fitted your quivering, gloved hand into his. "Of course, Your Royal Highness. It would be my honor."

And as Prince Juyeon led you to the polished marble dance floor, you stole a glance behind you at the dais. The second prince stood frozen on his platform, his form never having broken. But in the split second you looked back at him, you couldn't mistake the flash of a promise in those dark eyes you'd fallen so deeply into all these years.

It was a promise… at least, that was what you had thought, as you plastered a smile on your face and let Juyeon lead you through dance after dance. But you should have known better than to think so little of Ji Changmin.

a/n: me taking back my blog bc i can post what i want right :')

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs

[fallinnflower]

the secret prince's cinderella

huening kai x fem!reader (fluff, royalty!au, historical fantasy!au)

wc: 6k

a/n: hi everyone! so a month or so ago i had a dream i was directing a movie that follows (generally) the plot of this fic. during the aftermath of hurricane helene i had no power or internet or cell service and ended up writing the whole thing in basically two sittings. the bigger projects i have been mentioning for years now are still in the works, including vampire!Bambam, vampire!DPR Ian, part two of dragon/river god!wonpil, etc... these are all monster-sized works that i really am just grinding slowly at amidst my day-to-day life. thanks for your patience and i hope you enjoy this extremely fluffy fic!

When you first meet Kai you think he's just a strange, sort of awkward kid. He wanders into the town square one day and finds where all the kids are kicking around a ball one of the other kids' moms made for all of you to play with, and just kind of… stands there. You can tell he wants in, and as the eldest of the group (by thirteen whole days!) you decide to let him join. Nobody questions your decision — Kai evens out the teams for boys against girls for your games. 

Even if you weren't the eldest in your group, you're sure you could've pulled strings to let Kai in if you'd had to, but you probably wouldn't have had to anyways. With his ethereally good looks, the other kids were already captivated by him. It didn't matter that he was awkward, he was pretty. You knew how powerful that could be, given that your mom was the prettiest lady in town. 

So, your friendship with Kai began like that. Teaching him how to properly kick a ball so that he didn't hurt his foot; showing him the berry patches that were safe to pick from on the outskirts of the farms and forests; scouring the creeks to find the perfect stones to skip. It was idyllic, sitting in the meadow in the shadow of the big, tall castle on the hill where you all pondered what might be going on so far out of your reach. 

You never even imagined what it might become in the future — what fate you had started spinning as you kicked that homemade ball over to him and made the circle of kids part to make him a space. 

It’s going to be a sweltering summer, your mother had told you that morning, as you carefully braided her hair. Your mother has beautiful hair, a strawberry blond that almost glows pink in the sunlight and fair skin without a blemish. How she manages to be so pretty, you’ll never know — you inherited her eyes but not much else, though you like to think you have some of her charisma, too. 

Your mother had also told you to be careful, and to not be home late, planting kisses on both of your cheeks and your forehead before making her way to work. You once heard that she could've become some lord's lover in the past, but she came here with your father instead. She works as a seamstress for the palace, setting off early every morning before the sun rises to make her way up the hill. Your father works in the blacksmith's shop. You’re almost old enough to work, but, for now, do odd jobs with the other kids and help keep the little garden in your backyard alive. 

Alongside Kai, of course. He had been completely clueless about plants before you showed him the garden, and then he became obsessed. You know it’s only a matter of time before he comes knocking at your door to go stare at the sprouts, wondering each day at any little change in them. 

Just as you finish braiding your own hair, there comes a familiar, rhythmic knock at your door. You don't even have to look to know it's Kai, so you pull it open without a second thought. 

"How are the potatoes?" he asks, cheeks flushed. 

"The same as yesterday. Did you run here?"

"Of course," he replies, walking purposefully through your house and right out the back door. "I'm sure it had another sprout growing yesterday, so it probably has leaves today."

"Kai," you sigh, trailing behind him. No matter how often you tell him that plants don't grow quite that fast, he never stops being so excitable. You decide to just let him go look at them like you always do. It's kind of cute, anyways — a thought you try to push aside. Kai is your friend first and foremost, and the fact that his teenage years had only added to his incredible beauty shouldn't — wouldn’t — change that. 

Also, you know next to nothing about him, really. He keeps where he lives a secret and never talks about his family outside of vague statements about their personalities. What you know about Kai is what he's willing to share, meanwhile he knows almost everything about you and your life in this village. You don’t take it personally; his friendship means too much to you for you to go breaking it by prying too much. 

"It looks like the tomatoes are wilting," he laments, his voice breaking you out of your thoughts. 

"Really?" You go squat beside him among the little rows and look at the leaves he's gently cradling in one hand. They still look green to you, just fine, but Kai’s brow is still creased with deep concern. You chuckle softly.

"I think they're okay, Kai," you reassure him, patting his shoulder. It strikes you just how broad his shoulders are, and you push the thought away.

"You worry about the plants like you're their overbearing mother," you tease, nudging him with your elbow. He sways, letting go of the tomato plant and using one hand to prop himself up so he doesn't fall. Something falls out of his pocket with a dull thud into the dirt, and you snatch it up before he can. 

It's a rock, an almost perfectly round gray one with a little face drawn on it with charcoal from a fire. The face has been redrawn multiple times, but always the same little smile. You can't help but laugh,

"You still have this?" Kai's cheeks turn faintly pink as he reaches out to take the rock from you. You hand it back to him, although you don’t really get why he holds it so gingerly.

"It's special," he replies, a little sullen. 

"It's a rock," you state. For the life of you, you can't understand why he's so sentimental over rocks and vegetables in the garden, but makes no fuss over the fancy fabric scraps or broken bits of jewelry your mom gets to bring home sometimes. You find those much more fascinating, especially the fabric, as your mother explains how much time each embroidered design takes. 

"It's not just any rock," he retorts, now indignant as he cradles the rock in his palm. He holds it up to your face as though to prove a point. "We found this when you were teaching me how to skip stones!"

You blink in confusion, looking between him and the rock. 

"Kai, that rock wouldn't skip even once. It's too heavy. You just liked how it looked!"

You still remember that day vividly yourself. The whole little group had gone down to the creek to practice skipping stones. Your grandmother had been very good at it before she passed away, and taught you how to do it on the days when she watched over you while your parents worked. Teaching other kids wasn't nearly as easy — Kai was the only one truly paying attention to what you said, his eyes earnestly fixed on you as you demonstrated how to find a good rock for skipping and how exactly to flick your wrist when throwing. That rock he now held was one you had picked up to demonstrate a bad skipping stone, but Kai had gone running into the water to retrieve it just after it landed. 

"Look how perfect it is!" he had exclaimed, making his way back to the shore with the stone triumphantly held up in his hands. Some of the other kids had conceded his point, and even you could acknowledge that it was a surprisingly round, symmetrical rock — though hardly worth his pants getting soaking wet over.

Still, to keep it all these years and draw its face back on every time it rubbed off…

You almost say something about it being weird, but the fondness on his face as he looks at the rock reminds you of the ratty rabbit doll you repair every time she has a rip or tear. She barely looks like she did when your mom first made her from fabric scraps, but she's too sentimental for you to let fall apart. If Kai's rock is weird, then your bunny would be just the same. 

"Didn't you name it?" you ask instead, a vague memory attempting to rise in your mind. 

"Yeah, it's Huenin Lionel Mbappe!" he replies proudly. He starts to say something else, but the chiming of the bell at the town square interrupts him. He quickly shoves Huenin Lionel Mbappe back into his pocket and stands up, offering you a hand. You don't need it, but you take it, surprised as always at how smooth his hands are. There are some calluses, but not nearly as many as your father and some of the other working men and boys in the village. Once again you wonder what he does when he's not with you, but you don't dwell on it, pretending you don't notice that he's still holding your hand as you run to the square together to meet up with the others. 

You're just glad he can't see how flustered you are as he squeezes your palm, pulling you along. 

Working with the other teens in the village often entails doing small tasks the apprentices and owners of different businesses don't have time to. Running deliveries, cleaning up a mess — little jobs for meager amounts of money. Being the eldest, you're the closest to picking a trade, but you think you'll likely just be like your mom. You already know how to sew pretty well from being taught by her, and you do odd mending jobs for other villagers in a pinch. The other kids you run with have been trying to forge connections at the businesses you help, testing the waters for a potential apprenticeship. 

Not Kai, though. While he seems interested in almost everything, he doesn't put himself forward as a hirable option for anyone. He also rarely takes a share of the earnings — you'd learned years earlier that he would secretly pass it all off in small bits to each of you, making different excuses each time until he had none left. You don't ask why and you don't tell him or the others you've caught on. Like your own potentially blossoming feelings, it feels like the mention of it could ruin what you and Kai have now, and you value that too much to jeopardize it. 

"Y/N, your dad said a couple of us should get more water for the blacksmiths from the river," one of the boys says as you and Kai approach. You brush flyaway strands of hair away from your face, quickly slipping your hand out of Kai’s grasp before the others notice.

"Okay, I think some of the ladies in the market have errands for us too. Should we split up for now?" you ask, and everyone in the group agrees. You expect Kai to go with some of the boys who start making their way down to the river, buckets in hand, but he lingers by your side as the rest of you head towards the market square. 

For some reason, Kai seems to be sticking especially close to you. He accompanies you on more of your errands, only taking on his own if someone calls him over specifically. Even then, he makes his way back to you as soon as he can, dutifully trailing behind you. 

"You're like a duckling," you tell him as the two of you make your way back out onto the street. You count the coins in your palm and only shoot him a short sidelong glance when he drops his share into your pocket, trying to be stealthy. 

"What do you mean?" he asks, sidling up beside you. 

"The way you're trailing me," you explain, dropping the rest of your coins into your pocket where they clink against the ones he left. He cringes slightly, knowing he's been caught, but you don't say anything about it. "It's like I'm a mother duck and you're a duckling, following right behind me."

"Hm," he hums, hands clasped behind his back. "Does that also mean I'm cute like a duckling?" 

He's smiling at you almost smugly, like he's expecting a compliment. Your heart flutters at the sight, and you wonder if you'll ever get used to just how handsome he is. Pushing the thought aside, you nudge him with your elbow, snorting,

"Helpless, more like." Kai laughs and knocks right back into you,

"You're right, I'm hopeless. What would I do without you?" His words catch you off guard, and you clear your throat to cover your embarrassment. 

"Who taught you to talk like that?" you tease, and his grin widens. 

"My dad told me I should be sweet to the girls in my life. Especially the really important ones. And the ones I really like." 

Which of those am I? you wonder, but the words get stuck in your throat. You and Kai stare wordlessly at each other for a moment, and you feel as though you're getting pulled in by his sparkling eyes—

"Kai! Can you come help me with this?" You both startle at the voice of another vendor, and you poke his shoulder. 

"You should go help them. I'm going to ask around for more errands." Kai nods, and you can't tell if you're imagining the disappointment in his eyes as he turns away. 

The day ends the same place it started — Kai walks you back to your house to check on the garden again before you start dinner. You stay in the kitchen and tie on your apron, pulling out your paring knife so you can start peeling potatoes and carrots. While he looks to see if there's anything to be gathered, you light the fire under the large pot hanging in the fireplace and dump the bucket of well water you had brought with you in. Kai comes back through the door with a small basket tucked under his arm as you pull your chair up by the fire, settling down to start peeling. 

"Can I help?" he asks. It's not an unusual request, but one you're not sure if you'll allow. Kai isn't always the best with a knife, prone to getting distracted as the two of you talk. The last thing you want is for him to slice his finger open, but you find yourself nodding anyway. 

"Okay, but be careful. Can you start on the carrots?" You feel safer about him peeling carrots than potatoes, and he acquiesces, pulling another chair up beside you. 

The crackling of the fire fills the room, the sound of peels hitting the bottom of the buckets barely audible. Eventually you start humming, a habit you picked up from your father, and Kai joins in on the tune. You glance at him to be sure he isn't distracted and are pleased to find him peeling the carrots successfully. 

"Oh, wait, Y/N!" he exclaims a few moments later, almost making you slice off a large chunk of perfectly good potato. You look over to him as he sets his knife on his lap and picks up a carrot. He holds the tip in his left hand and raises it to about his shoulder, the bottom of the carrot pointing diagonally at his right hip, and raises his other hand. 

"Doo dwang dee dwang~ Dow dow da dow-da-da-dow~" 

You stare on in mute disbelief as he continues, tapping his fingers along the tip of the carrot, making a strumming motion with his other hand at its wide end. He eventually stops and beams at you, an expectant look in his eyes.

"So, what do you think? Did I sound like a lute?" 

"That was a lute?" You almost feel bad for asking, but really, you wouldn't have ever guessed. 

"Huh," he says, looking down at the carrot in his hand. "My mom liked my impression."

"Moms are like that," you reply. "My mom once told me I had a nice singing voice and then I embarrassed myself in front of half the village kids."

Kai seems a little puzzled by this, as though he hadn't considered his mom might just be saying that because he's her son. Regardless, he shrugs it off and picks his knife back up. 

"I'll just have to practice more."

You don't say another word and just go back to peeling and humming. Kai leaves when the bell rings on the hour, and you continue cooking dinner as your parents make their way home in the twilight of the village. 

You don't see Kai for the next few days — not that it worries you. Honestly, you don't know what he does or where he is most of the time, but it's fine. You go about your usual routine, until it's interrupted by an unusual tolling of the bell, the kind that signals for villagers to come to the main square for news. You set aside your sewing and rush out to meet your friends there, spotting your father on the edges of the crowd with his coworkers from the smithy. As you gather, you see some sort of palace official with the royal guard behind him preparing to speak. He unfurls his message and clears his throat loudly; the crowd instantly hushes. Your heart beats loudly in your ears, worrying over whether the news is good or bad and your mom working inside the palace. 

"Hear ye, hear ye— to celebrate the joyous occasion of Prince Kai Kamal Huening's eighteenth birthday, all citizens are invited to attend a ball at the royal palace, Saturday fortnight! Be prepared to eat, drink, and be merry!" 

A birthday banquet at the palace with everyone invited? you think. Then, Kai almost named his pet rock like a member of the royal family? 

You wish he was there so you could get his reaction, but instead you turn to your other excited friends. All you can think of is what you could possibly wear to the palace of all places, and with only two weeks to prepare. 

Not seeing Kai for a few days is normal, but not seeing him for two weeks is strange. He had shown up at your home out of breath the afternoon of the ball announcement, asking if you'd heard the news, only to run back home just as quickly after checking on the garden. Your mother had rushed home that evening with a roll of fabric in her arms, exclaiming that her coworkers knew she had a daughter around the prince's age and let her take the last of an old bolster home. It wouldn't make much, maybe sleeves or the bodice of a gown, but it was beautiful. It was leftover from some drapes in a far wing of the palace, a plush blue velvet with golden-threaded embroidery. 

"You'll look splendid," your mother had said, positively beaming as she held the fabric up to your chest. You didn't bother telling her that there was next to no chance of you dancing with the prince no matter how pretty your dress was, but thought better of it. Besides, it's not like you weren't excited at the prospect of dancing — just not with some total stranger like the prince. The image of Kai smiling broadly when you said that you would be attending the ball rose to the forefront of your mind. 

Pushing it aside, you and your mother had begun working on your gown. Now, with the ball only days away, you hadn't seen even a glimpse of Kai in all that time. You'd wanted to show him the fabric, but with it almost finished you want the final look to be a surprise to everyone but you and your mother. With each day you don't see him, worry weighs more heavily on your heart. Nobody in the village knows Kai better than you, so if something had happened then nobody would even know where to start looking for him. You (and your friends) tell yourself to calm down. He always turns up, so you just have to be patient. 

You stare down at the potato plants in the garden forlornly, looking at how some of the leaves are beginning to turn just the slightest bit brown as autumn begins to descend. You imagine Kai's worried face and let out a sigh. You just hope he's alright, wherever he is. 

On the morning of the ball, everyone in the village wakes up excited. There's no real work to be done that day, as the palace had ordered most businesses to halt operations unless absolutely necessary. Your father scrubs his hands and face (with your mother's help) until his skin doesn't have even the slightest speck of soot on it. You help your mother braid her beautiful hair into a pretty crown on her head, and she helps you into your brand new dress. Slowly, the villagers start making their way up the hill to the palace; you walk behind your parents, who walk arm-in-arm, chatting happily. You wonder how long it's been since they've been able to spend a day together like this, or seen each other all dressed up. The thought of seeing Kai in a fancy outfit makes your heart pound; he's so pretty even in the simplest work clothes, how much more attractive will he look in party attire? 

You try not to dwell on it, not wanting to be even more nervous than you already are. Instead you focus on all the familiar faces around you, dressed in their absolute best and chattering excitedly. You aren't sure exactly where your friends are because you came with your parents, but you know you'll all find each other eventually. When you reach the palace gates, you're greeted by members of the royal knights and other official-looking personnel. Your mother points out the people she recognizes, whispering to you and your father who the chamberlain is, and the butler, and the marshal. You lose track of all the people as you're led into the ballroom and are astounded by its grandeur. You've never seen so many candles in one place, or so much food and wine. 

"I'm going to find my friends," you announce, still half in a daze. You do try to find them but also end up wandering around the room, in awe of everything around you. Even the drapes in this room put the fabric your mom brought home to shame — is it because it's a big event, or had that fabric been for drapes in some unimportant room. You finally catch sight of a couple of your friends, but as you make your way to them you're interrupted by the sound of a bugle. The whole crowd turns their attention to the raised platform where the two large thrones sit alongside three smaller thrones that you assume are for the two princesses and the prince. 

"Now announcing the arrival of the His and Her Majesties, the Sun and Moon of the kingdom!" Everyone drops into a bow or curtsy as the royal couple enters, and you glance up through your eyelashes to get a glimpse of them. You're surprised by just how stunning they appear, and how kind their smiles look. They stand in front of their thrones and look off to the side as their children’s entrances are announced,

"Princess Lea Navvab Huening!" She enters with a smile and a graceful wave, her dark brown hair pulled back neatly. She looks almost familiar, though you wonder if it's just because she's standing beside her parents. 

"The Prince, Kai Kamal Huening!" The entire crowd goes even more quiet, excited to get a glimpse of the man of the hour. Your breath catches in your throat when you see him, and you have to rush to lower your head so you don't seem disrespectful. 

That… that’s your Kai, isn't it? Up there on the platform? Your head is spinning, and you barely hear the announcement of the youngest royal sibling, Princess Bahiyyih Jaleh Huening. She's beautiful, too — the whole trio is stunning as they stand beside their parents, but you can scarcely think with the way your heart is racing. This whole time, your Kai was actually Prince Kai? You swear it can't be true, then look back at the royal family as the King and Queen descend for the first dance of the night and know you're right. It's him. 

You barely see the first dance, but when the Prince and first Princess descend for the second dance you're hyper-focused. Once he's on the dance floor you truly can't deny it anymore. 

You can't decide what to do. A part of you wants to run and hide, embarrassed and, frankly, scared that you had treated a member of the royal family like any other village child. How could you be so stupid? How could you not know? You try to slink away to the furthest edges of the crowd as Prince Kai has the third dance with the second princess, wondering if you can somehow get away without being noticed by him. 

But then they announce that the ball has started in earnest. The King and Queen take their seats, as well as the princesses, and you watch Kai scan the crowd in search of a partner for his first dance with someone who isn't his sister. You step behind one of your father's coworkers, an exceedingly tall man, but you're shocked when the crowd suddenly starts parting in front of you almost immediately. 

"Y/N?" a familiar voice calls, soft. You swear your heart stops in that moment. The man steps aside to reveal Kai, the light making the golden crown on his head seem like a halo. 

"Can I have this dance?" 

Everyone is staring at you and Kai with the same sense of disbelief that you're feeling. The same boy they'd had running errands a mere two weeks before was the prince of their kingdom, and now he was asking the girl he'd run around the village with for years to be his dance partner. 

"I— um, are you sure about this?" you whisper, looking from his face to his outstretched hand and back. You know what this looks like, what this implies. After all, celebrating his birthday like this is also to remind everyone that he's an adult of marriageable age now — does he really want to imply that you're his first choice?

But Kai just continues to smile, albeit looking a little bit more confused. 

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" 

So, you take his hand. 

You've never slow danced with anyone but your father at home, and even then it was just for fun; your dancing at festivals was never so regimented. Kai guides your hands to their proper placements and squeezes the one he holds, flashing you a reassuring grin. 

"I've got you. Just follow my lead." It feels like your heart has leapt up into your throat, so you can only manage to nod and put your trust in him like he said. 

And he guides you. You never would have guessed he was such a skilled dancer, but it's so easy to follow his lead that you're able to actually enjoy yourself more than worry about how you look. His hands are warm and his gaze is so fond, so tender, that you almost can't believe it's you he's looking at. As you fall into a comfortable rhythm, Kai leans in closer.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs, his lips almost brushing against your ear. A shiver runs down your spine, but you don't think anyone but him notices. It only makes him smile more when you stare at him in bashful disbelief. When he said his dad told him to say sweet things, that was the King, right? That realization just sends you reeling further. 

You stare at him, not sure what to say to that aside from a barely audible,

"You too." Kai blushes, his cheeks turning a rosy pink that makes him look even more angelic. 

"So am I an important girl or a girl that you like?" you ask, not really meaning to say anything at all and certainly not something so embarrassing. Kai looks taken aback, his eyes widening like a deer's. Somehow his cuteness makes you feel embarrassed, but you try not to show it. 

"Both?" he says. "I think it can be both. So, both." He smiles, satisfied with his answer.  

"You like me?" you squeak out, and Kai cocks his head to the side. 

"Yeah? I thought that was obvious. Everyone else knew." 

"Everyone else knew?" you parrot in disbelief, and Kai nods. 

"I guess I'm the only one they teased about it…" You can't help but laugh a little at that; none of the other neighborhood kids ever gave you much shit since you were their unofficial leader. That said, you're definitely going to have to grill them about this later. 

Kai pulls you slightly closer as the song comes to an end, before you part to bow and curtsy to each other. 

"Can I have the next dance, too?" he asks, looking down at you with the most doe-like eyes he can manage. You press a hand to your chest, where your heart is still pounding. 

"I think I need to sit down before I have a heart attack. This was a lot to take in." You take the hand Kai offers you, though, as he escorts you over to a chair. 

"I'll get you something to drink," he says, and he's gone before you can even protest that a servant could probably just bring a tray around. He's still your Kai, after all, you think, and it makes you feel relieved. 

As you're sitting waiting for him you notice how many eyes are on you. None are judgmental, thankfully — most are just in awe, both that Kai is actually the Prince and you suddenly seem in line to become a part of the royal family yourself. The mere thought makes your cheeks start to burn again, and you wave your hands by your face to try and cool down. 

As you're doing so, you suddenly notice the crowd parting towards you again, this time to allow the two princesses to approach. You hurriedly stand up and drop into a curtsy,

"My humblest greetings to your highnesses, the first and second princess." Your hands are shaking but you hope they don't notice as you hold your skirts up. 

"Is this her?" the second princess, Bahiyyih, whispers to her sister. You glance up just as the first princess elbows her before turning to you with a smile. She takes both your hands in hers. 

"What she means is, we've heard a lot about you. And Kai has gotten in a lot of trouble for sneaking out all the time, but we get it now." You swear your face gets warmer with every word she says, made worse by the effervescent grin on Bahiyyih's face as she nods along to her sister's words. Just then, Kai reappears by your side, a drink in each hand. Lea lets go of your hands, which you're grateful for because you feel like your palms are getting sweaty. 

"Lea…" He whines, shifting so he's standing behind you even though you don't hide him very well. You reach for your drink, hoping that having something to hold will ease your shakiness. 

"It's true!" Bahiyyih chimes in. "It took us forever to figure out where he was going, and then we realized he was going to meet a girl! It's so cute!"

"Please don't call me cute," he groans. 

"But you are cute," you blurt, and immediately want the ground to swallow you whole. A glance at Kai tells you his face is bright red, burning hot just like yours, and Lea squeezes your hands tighter as she and Bahiyyih practically squeal with delight. 

“So you do think I'm cute?” Kai asks, leaning around to get a look at your face. Now both he and the princesses are looking at you expectantly, and you feel like your face is on fire. 

“Well, yeah,” you mumble, quickly taking a sip of your drink. The princesses are almost vibrating with excitement, and Kai’s face turns bright red but his eyes are glimmering with excitement, his smile broad. His joy is almost blinding, and your heart is nearly beating out of your chest. 

“I think you're cute, too, Y/N,” he says. Your knees feel weak, and you only manage to pull your gaze from his when you faintly hear the sound of Bahiyyih giggling. Lea takes hold of her little sister’s arm and smiles apologetically at you,

“We'll give you two some time alone now.” She starts tugging Bahiyyih away, but the youngest Huening sibling takes hold of your hand.

“I can't wait to get to know you better, sister-in-law!”

“Uh, y-yes, me too,” you reply, mind going blank. Sister-in-law?! In a daze, you sit back down in the chair Kai had led you to earlier, barely registering that he's sitting next to you until he sets his hand on top of yours. 

“Are you okay?” You turn to him, mouth slightly agape. 

“Did she call me sister-in-law?” you ask. Kai laughs bashfully and links his fingers with yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“Yeah, she's… excitable.” You nod, still sort of dazed, and take another sip of your drink. Staring back out into the crowd, you notice the princesses making their way back up to their parents’ side. In the distance you can see Bahiyyih leaning in to whisper something to her mother, and the queen's gaze seems to find you in the sea of people. 

“Oh my god,” you say, hurriedly turning back to Kai. “Does— do your parents know about me?” He nods.

“I got caught sneaking out and told them everything,” he explains. “This ball was part my idea and part theirs, so I could introduce you to them… Or let them see you, at least.” He must have seen the total anxiety in your expression at the prospect of meeting his parents one-on-one and immediately smooths it over, squeezing your hand again. 

“There's no rush,” he reassures you, and looking into his earnest eyes does actually help to calm your nerves. From this close you hardly notice the crown on his head, he just looks like the same boy you've been running around the village with for years. Just Kai. 

Your Kai. Just the thought makes your heart soar. 

You down the rest of your drink and stand up, Kai’s hand still in yours. 

“Do you want to step outside for a bit?” you ask, and Kai nods, setting his own drink aside too before standing up. The two of you make your way onto one of the balconies off the ballroom, and the cool night breeze puts your mind at ease. You feel like you can finally breathe again, standing by Kai’s side under the familiar light of the moon. He lightly swings your joined hands between you, staring up at the stars. Eventually, he turns his full attention back to you,

“Why did you want to come outside?” You take his other hand in yours and look down at the stones paving the bottom of the balcony. His shoes are so nice, you think, and almost want to laugh. All this time you wondered why he was only around some of the time and gave his money to the other kids — meanwhile he was sneaking in and out of the palace to come meet you. You take a deep breath, summoning all your courage,

“I just… thought it would be kind of embarrassing to have our first kiss in front of a crowd…” Kai squeezes your hands unintentionally, and you glance up at him, unable to meet his gaze fully. Even after saying it, you aren't sure where you got the confidence. 

“So, can I?” he asks, his voice soft. “Kiss you, I mean.” You laugh, the tension breaking, and lean in. 

“You really are hopeless, aren't you?” you tease, “Of course.”

You press your lips to his, the taste of wine still lingering, and you suddenly get the feeling that this is the beginning of the rest of your life. And you're going to live happily ever after.

[patolemus]

Could you share some of your Lucemond fic recs?

I have a lot of lucemond recs, but the ones I like the most are these:

the beast you’ve made of me by MaidenMotherCrone. Probably my favorite hotd fic of all time. Lucerys is taken hostage by the greens in Storm’s End, and it all goes downhill from there. Incomplete, but has consistent updates. Currently it only has eleven chapters left. If you’ve been following me for a while you’ll know I always go crazy when this updates.

Hiding in plain sight by Unohanabbygirl. A bit dark, but not extremely so. It’s abo, Lucerys goes into heat and triggers Aemond’s rut. He is raped by Aemond in Storm’s End, and left for dead. He’s nursed back to health by strangers who don’t know who he is, while everyone else thinks he’s dead. Updated pretty consistently.

Forget me not by Unohanabbygirl. A modern reincarnation au. Everyone remembers their past life except Lucerys. Targaryen royalty, as well as important figures from the ASOIAF saga, are historical characters. It treats topics like sexual assault and drug abuse, as well as trauma in general. One of the best fics I’ve ever read. It’s incomplete, but updates are consistent.

The — heir of the tides; series by thehundrethpoet. It’s a canon divergence fic where Lucerys takes out his eye on Storm’s End. Series is incomplete, but the first two parts are done and the third one is about to be completed and updated consistently.

The Key To Your Heart by Avonne. A modern au about lucemond’s relationship. I don’t know how else to describe it without spoiling it, but I enjoyed it a lot. It’s completed, and a second part is currently being written.

Calendario de Adviento para una muerte asegurada by Aynnita. It’s written in Spanish (my first language). It’s also a modern au where the Targaryens are still royalty, and lucemond go to a boarding school in the North. Lucerys broke his engagement to Rhaena, and his parents want to know why. He tells them he has a partner, and promises to introduce them on Christmas Eve. Of course, both sides of the family are estranged. It’s incomplete but not abandoned, with only one chapter before it’s finished.

The gilded lilies series by corviids. After being believed to be dead, both Aemond and Lucerys return to King’s Landing just as Rhaenyra is taking control of the Red Keep, and it seems the gods are planning something for them. It’s abo, Aemond is an Alpha and Lucerys an Omega. This is my favorite out of the few fics with this concept. The main piece is incomplete, but it has several one shots post canon that are finished.

Arsonist’s Lullaby by orphan_account. Aemond sides with the blacks during the dance because he falls in love with Lucerys. It’s one of my favorite takes of this particular canon divergence, and it’s completed.

The Holiday by archimedesprinciple. A modern Christmas au where Aemond is part of law enforcement and Lucerys works at a bank. They are still related, but the incest is toned down to ‘standard levels of modern aristocracy’. There are many unresolved issues in this one, but it’s completed and has a happy ending.

I hope you like these recs! I scoured my ao3 bookmarks for these ones, but there’s more I didn’t add on account of them being in completed and not being updated for a while.

[jacksgreysays]

"soldier, poet, king" + POV of team 7 from someone in the far future, maybe through the lens of a distant descendant build off surviving myths and historical texts

Dear anon, I hope you don’t mind, but I took a gentle step sideways and backwards with this prompt. In my search for all of the royalty!AU posts, I refreshed my memory about Foundation of Yesterday in which DoS/the Elemental Nations is the extremely distant past of FFVII. Coupled with the SOLDIERs of FFVII and my assigning of which member of Team Seven corresponds to which character of FFVII, I think it all combines well with your prompt. Additionally, I couldn’t tell which members of Team Seven I would assign soldier, poet, and king. But it was easy for me to assign solider, poet, and king to their FFVII descendants and then reverse engineer from there. So we get Cloud, obvious Soldier, descendant of blue-eyed blonde, storm and strife. Yuffie as King, inheriting a pendant that summons a sleeping goddess in times of need. And Vincent is less obvious as Poet, but you can probably get into a sort of meditative philosophizing of working for tyrants and falling in love with a scientist only for her to betray you and then going into hibernation and maybe meeting your distant ancestor who is Chaos? Unfortunately, I don’t actually know that much about FFVII—as I’ve never played it, nor the remake—except for what I’ve gleaned from fanfiction and cultural osmosis, lol. And then this does get into the problem, similar to the Fear to Tread (a world unseen) post in that the primary setting/POV of the fic WOULD be the world/characters that I am less accustomed to writing and then making up the history of the world between the events of DoS and FFVII. So I’m going to continue with my gentle sideways and backwards steps and give you this, instead:

~

(king)

When Yuffie finally activates the strange summon materia she inherited from her father, everything goes dark. At first she panics—maybe something went wrong? did she not have enough mana? was she cursed with blindness?—but then little pin pricks of light appear, like distant stars coming ever closer.

She doesn’t see what the summon does exactly, the battle ends so quickly after that, but that doesn’t matter too much considering the summon just… doesn’t leave.

The Shikabane-hime—once the tendrils of star-filled shadows have done their damage and tucked themselves away out of existence—looks human. Like one of Yuffie’s people, a girl far from home, displaced from Wutai, just like her.

But as the other members of the party shift and stare, uncertain as to what it happening, she remembers who exactly she’s looking at. What she is looking at, that is: a summon, inherited from her father, who only showed up now after her homeland has been ruined by ShinRa.

Later, when they have made camp for the night, when the Shikabane-hime has still not disappeared, even though Yuffie’s original mana offering should have long run out, she confronts the summon.

“Where were you?” Yuffie asks in Wutaian so the others can’t understand her. She tries to make it accusatory, tries to sound authoritative, like a proper Princess of Wutai, but she’s afraid it comes out more hurt, plaintive, like a child who realizes that legends are nothing more than stories, than lies. Like the legend that the Shikabane-hime would come in Wutai’s time of need.

The Shikabane-hime tilts its head, gaze sharp but not unkind. Yuffie thinks for a moment, perhaps it can’t understand her, what language do summons speak? Please not Midgarish.

But then the Shikabane-hime answers, “Your father never called for me.” Its gaze, somehow, becoming sharper but also more kind. Concerned, maybe. “Perhaps he did not believe. Perhaps it was not enough of a threat.”

“Not enough of a threat?” Yuffie shouts.

The rest of the party turn their way, hands on their weapons, except for Vincent whose attention had been on the Shikabane-hime the whole time. He waves them off and the others, with reluctance, stand down.

“What do you mean not enough of a threat? ShinRa invaded our homeland. It is a shell of itself! My father—” she cuts herself off before she can say anything else. Before she can realize what else in her childhood is a story, a lie.

“In the future, you will reclaim it, rebuild it,” the Shikabane-hime says, too casual for a command, too simple for a prophecy. “But first, we must ensure there is a future.”

—

(poet)

When Shikako meets the almost familiar red eyes of Vincent Valentine, she does not say the following:

Is he doing okay in there? How did he manage to survive so long? If you could let him know I’m sorry, I miss him. Tell him thank you from me for holding on so long. Too long. Tell him he can let go, that he doesn’t have to stay if it hurts. If he needs to move on, it’s okay. I’ll meet him there when I’m done. And I’ll bring Naruto with me. You can rest now, Sasuke, I’m here now. I’ll see you soon.

When Vincent looks at the Shikabane-hime—

(Kako, Yuffie introduces it as, trying to play it off as just a late coming fellow Wutaian. If the other members of the party make the connection between the godly manifestation of starlit shadows and the normal looking woman following them blandly, they aren’t making a fuss about it, so neither will Vincent.)

—the Chaos inside of him settles into peace.

—

(soldier)

“You resemble your ancestor quite a bit,” Kako says to Cloud during a quiet stretch of their travels. It is the first thing she says to him.

Cloud nods, because what else can he do in response to that—

(Of course nobody believes that Kako is just a normal Wutaian woman, but they’re up against the biggest superpower in the world and also an ancient evil and also an undying Sephiroth while the Planet riots in its attempt to save itself, like a fever willing to burn everything up to stave off the infection.

They’ll take any help they can get, imposter or no. And it’s not as if he has room to talk about that anyway.)

—but he does notice that her eyes are closed as she says this, implying her remark isn’t about a visual resemblance but something else, something deeper.

“He was named after a storm,” she says, and for once her tone changes, the apathy gently flavored with fondness, “but he was truly more like the sun.” Her expression, too, shifts: a small, sad smile gracing her face.

And because Cloud knows what it’s like to lose someone you admired—in both ways, the aching grief of losing an admired person, and the sharp lance of a hero no longer being admirable—he asks her, stumbling “Were you—did you know them well?”

Her eyes open at this, an assessing glance sent his way. Her smile melts away, as if it had never been.

“Yes,” she says, tone flattened once more. “He was a good man and the Planet turned him into a WEAPON.”

Cloud startles. He looks to Aerith as he does whenever Planet and Cetra stuff are brought up, but he finds her face turned away, as if guilty, not wanting to meet his or Kako’s eyes.

“But no need to worry,” Kako says, voice not so much reassuring as it is grimly determined. “I will ensure you do not follow his path too closely.”

[woodblxssomcrowned]

Outfit sketches I did for the Royalty AU that was stuck on my mind for a minute.

Definitely went for an aesthetic based on a stylized mid 1400 to mid 1500s look, with a few fantasy and less than historically accurate elements worked in. Drawing this kind of stuff always makes me very happy~ And because she's a princess, the daughter of the king, I can really let myself go all out with colors, materials and fancy cuts~~

Below the cut are some basic HCs for the kids. I will however spare you the extensive worldbuilding I made regarding the details of the fashion I had in mind for this AU. I live for details and consistency in the fashion of a setting.

Kaname

- 19 years old (default)

- Second in line to the throne, after her brother Danma.

- There was an attempt on her life when she was seven years old, with the targets being all of Hashirama's family. The would-be- assassin was captured but took his own life before he could be questioned. She got the scar on her cheek from the ordeal and even as a young adult she is unable to sleep in complete darkness, always insisting on having a lit candle along with spares near her bedside.

- Wears dresses/gowns and breeches and jerkins about an equal amount, likes both and will wear whatever she feels like depending on mood and chosen activity or occasion.

- Has been in an on-off friend with benefits relationship with an up and coming (no pun intended) guard for three years. She likes him enough. He knows what she likes and she knows what he likes. It works well. It's a poorly kept secret, but if confronted they are both remarkably capable of acting utterly oblivious. 

She's had other brief lovers as well. 

- Kaname have made it clear that she is willing to marry if it means securing prosperity for her kingdom, her one condition have been that she wants to be included in the discussion and not be left in the dark about it until it's already been decided.

- Tends to be described as being a passionate young woman, full of desire and drive. A combination of sensitive and savage.

- Favorite activity is relaxing in a warm, scented bath after a day of being physically active

Danma

- 20 years old (default)

- Crown prince, Heir apparent.

- Has a natural daughter, who he loves very much. Two years old. She's acknowledged, but not legitimized, and raised at court with Hashirama's approval. 

- Used to have lovers, but not since the birth of Tsunade. Some say it was one of the conditions from Hashirama in response to the request of letting her be raised at court.

- There's rumors that Danma or his younger sister are being set up to marry in order to strengthen the Senju/Uchiha alliance. Neither can disclose if there's substance to these rumors. 

- Smart but easily bored 

- Favorite activity is riding

Kichiro 

- 9 years old

- Third in line to the throne after his older brother and sister.

- smart and promising, but makes people uneasy as he has a tendency to be manipulative 

[acowardinmordor]

Idle thoughts for the historical royalty au it turns out I want to read, but can’t be bothered to write.

This is a fairly young or small kingdom. Early Plantagenets but less established.

Steve’s mom is more in the category of Eleanor of Aquitaine. She’s off in her own lands trying to fix the mess that the King made. The King forbade her taking Steve with her and they both have other lovers. Steve’s mom had several failed pregnancies when he was young, and at least one or two siblings that died too young for him to really remember.

The King is fighting yet another push against Not-France. Has been gone for at least two years, will be gone at least one more. Left his advisors and council in place, and gave Steve very little authority. He’s basically Henry the first. Except he’s Richard

Most of the important Lords and families left the capital when the King did, either to go on campaign, or back to their own homes. The adults who remain are either greedy and manipulative or too low ranked to have another option. Lots of the children of families are left there as good faith

Nancy and Barb are the daughters of nobility, not known for their social standing. Carol and Tommy are trying very hard to get/stay in Steve’s favor so they can elevate their and their families’ status. Joyce got elevated to a role like a chatelaine because the prior died while the king was gone. Hopper is Captain of the Guard.

Magic exists if you ask the right person, but in any official sense or statement there is science, religion, and blasphemous rumors.

El is for sure somewhere in the changeling shade of things. But in the sense that she got stolen, lived with the Unseelie Court, and escaped. Because he is the reason I am in this fandom; El follows the sound of music and laughter and finds Eddie.

Eddie lives with his uncle, who was in the last war, took an arrow to the knee and can’t serve again. Does odd jobs and repairs things for people. Eddie is supposed to be apprenticing as a scribe, but hates writing down ledgers of how much the Lords spend and how much they tax. It’s doomed from the start. But, it means he’s the rare example of a poor kid in the city who can read and write. He makes spare money telling stories, writing down and using bits of histories and rumors he hears while apprenticing. And because he travels from the town up to the court, he’s also doing a bit of unofficial trade.

Lucas helps at the stables. Mike wants to be a knight, but was too young to go with the king to war. Younger kids went, but the Wheelers are just noblé enough that he didn’t. Only son privileges. Will was sick as a kid, so he’s seen as kind of a ‘what’s the point’ but he learned to read a little, then spent so long sick he taught himself more.

Dustin flits around the court and castle, bullying people into explaining things to him. He has learned many things, and is still a little genius, but his reading is kinda self taught so he can’t always say why he’s right beyond saying that he is. Claudia came with the Queens court but stayed after the Queen left again. She’s in a weird important-but-not-noble position. Steve adores her because she was around more than his mom.

Actually. Yeah. Dial up the magic a little. The King conquered the region and stomped out most of the hedge-witch type folks. Also pissed off some of the more powerful ones as they fled. But the big piece is that he broke A Thing™ that served to hold the worlds separate. That was a least 15 years ago. The leak is slow/irs been getting worse.

Lucas’s family isn’t nobility, but they’re wealthier than some of the nobles. He’s the personable son with a fondness for horses, racing, hunts, etc.

Max and family moved to Hawkins and something something, Max is now working at a smithy. It’s not what she should be doing, but she’s really good at it. Also: horseshoes gets us LuMax.

Maybe the Hargrove were noble, mayfields weren’t. Lord Hargrove went to war, Billy has been there too, and the second you look away from max she’s back to doing what she wants.

Murray is something like a hedgewitch.

The Russians become some of the conquered people, looking for an opportunity to reclaim and lacking that: a chance to fuck things up for Hawkins.

Creel is def a kid from wayyy long ago, who got conned by the fae, but spent so long there that he’s got magic of his own, and a love/hate with a humans.

[star-my]

Stray Kids Fic Recs ☆ Tumblr

These are all available on tumblr as of April 2024. Some are likely crossposted on ao3 as well.

~Ao3 RECS HERE (incomplete)~

Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

If any authors tagged here wish to be removed/untagged, please lmk!

OT8/Multi

☆ {Unavailable}

Bang Chan

☆ Wolfsbane by @healinghyunjin | S2L Historical AU, Royalty AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 17k

☆ Mamihlapinatapai by @sunnyville36 | Historical AU, Royalty AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 25k

☆ Non Ducor Duco by @chanluster | F2L Historical AU, Mafia AU | 15k

☆ Stars Aligned series by @seospicybin | S2F2L Neighbours AU, Single Parent AU | 43k

Lee Minho

☆ Ritual by @healinghyunjin | S2L Historical AU, Soulmate-adjacent AU? | 11k

Seo Changbin

☆ {Unavailable}

Hwang Hyunjin

☆ the strange man of monterrey manor by @quokkacore | S2L Historical AU, Arranged Marriage AU, Supernatural AU | 21k

☆ Moonrise + Moonlight by @healinghyunjin | Historical AU, Royalty AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 18k

☆ The Duke and I by @chanluster | BFF2L Bridgerton AU | 32k

Han Jisung

☆ {Unavailable}

Lee Felix

☆ {Unavailable}

Kim Seungmin

☆ {Unavailable}

Yang Jeongin

☆ {Unavailable}

I'm getting the sense that I should have written down more of my favourite authors' names before I made my account so I could find them later 😔 I hope to find more of my old favourites and update this list soon!

[theflyingfeeling]

Still bored, so here are some random BC fanfic ideas I've been playing with for a while but will never write due to a variety of reasons (so they are free to use!) ✨

~

1) Joel/Joonas with Joel being ace/aro and oblivious to Joonas being hopelessly in love with him (or maybe he does know but he just pretends he doesn't because he has no idea what to do about it). Bonus points if Joonas gets together / fools around with Niko and it works as a distraction quite nicely, until it doesn't (cue Niko being a good friend and calling it quits himself when he understands the true state of affairs and encouraging Joonas to do something or the very least tell Joel about his feelings, even if nothing would ever come out of it, because Joel deserves to know and, most of all, Joonas deserves to move on 😔)

~

2) A massage therapist AU in which Joonas is a masseur and Tommi his client. Tommi gets an awkward surprise boner during a massage and Joonas is bold enough to mention that they do also offer, ummm, erotic massages as well, in case Tommi is interested 😏 It takes Tommi a few more visits (and awkward boners (because maybe he's also developing a crush on his nice-looking masseur)) until Tommi finally books a prostate massage, and oh my oh my! 💦 his whole world turns upside down as he comes untouched by Joonas' skilful hands 😳 He's hooked from the very first prostate orgasm of his life and becomes a regular, with 2-3 weekly sessions booked, and he gets excited about them in the morning already (maybe a little too excited, if you get the gist 😌), and maybe eventually he manages to ask Joonas out 💕 (also inluded in this AU: Olli/Allu as Joonas' co-workers who are also boyfriends/husbands and use each other's massage rooms for their personal "sessions" at the end of the workday, yes very unprofessional I know 🥰)

~

3) Some sort of historical AU, with Olli as some kinda royalty or a nobleman or just a rich person in general, the rebel of his family however, having a secret fling with Aleksi the merchant's son. Cue lots and lots of flirting at the marketplace and passionate sex / rough fucking wherever and whenever, but tragically, Olli in this AU is also a bit of a fuckboy and manages to piss off Aleksi and/or make him jealous by acting unnecessarily touchy-feely with someone at the tavern. Aleksi gives him the silent treatment (picture him just silently working at his market stall ignoring Olli's flirting and his pleas). Heartbroken by this, Olli gets a little too drunk at the tavern and ends up in some kind of trouble from which Aleksi saves him (all the while sighing at his idiot boyfriend 🙄). The next morning in Aleksi's modest bedroom/house, Aleksi tries his best to maintain the cold shoulder attitude (because he is still kinda mad at Olli), but he fails horribly when Olli catches him staring and starts teasing him about it like the smug bastard he is 🥰 Also, an extremely important visual from this AU is Olli in a white, loose shirt whenever possible 🥵

~

4) A while back I was also thinking about another historical AU (because I looooooove historical AUs and period dramas 💖) about Niko being some kinda clergyman, a cantor perhaps, and Joonas a homeless person Niko made acquaintance with in the breadline, but sadly I can't remember too many details about this one 🤔 I guess Niko just starts doing a little extra to help out Joonas, and it's up for you to decide whether it's "helping him out" as in offering him food and maybe a roof above his head (secretly letting him stay overnight inside the church when the weather's too rough to sleep outdoors), or "helping him out" as in fucking him in the candlelit organ loft after the evening Mass �� Isn't the latter such a romantic image though? It's pitch black and stormy outside, the entire church is dark except for the candles they lit up on the organ loft, some old tapestry as their mattress (a holy relic, Niko later learns as he overhears the vicar and the sexton wonder about the strange stains on it 🤨), the sounds of their lovemaking echoing in the church... 🥺

~

5) I can't remember the pairing for this next one 🤔 Joonas was the other but I can't remember who the other was, so I'll leave it up for you to decide or suggest who'd be the best match for Joonas in this! Anyhow, an AU in which Joonas and Person B are neighbours, acquaintances and maybe crushing on each other a little, but not properly friends or anything like that. Mostly when they talk to each other it's because of Joonas' cute fluffy dog which Person B loves petting (and while he's at it he may as well exchange a word or two with the fluffy-haired owner 🥰). Person B is a little lonely and these interactions mean the world to him, but he's too shy/intoverted to actually ask Joonas to hang out other than in the hallway or front yard of their apartment building. One day, Person B sees Joonas going in his apartment without the dog, which he finds unusual, and through the paper-thin walls he hears Joonas sob his heart out. Worried, Person B goes knocking on Joonas' door to see if he's alright, and he finds a heartbroken Joonas telling him the dog had fallen suddenly ill and had to be put down that morning 😭 Person B steps in to comfort Joonas through the night, and so their budding friendship begins to bloom and maybe eventually turn into something more 💕 (now that I typed this it sounds all a little familiar but I can't put my finger on it if I've actually read this in a fic before 🤔 so I'm sorry if I copied someone's idea, it was not my intention!)

~

6) Okay this one I could write but won't because 1) I already wrote something similar, and 2) I don't want to portray Olli and Aleksi as some kinda horny and selfish cheaters, and if you don't want to even imagine that kind of things about them I suggest you stop reading now, and anyway PLEASE remember this is only fic talk, but ggghhghggghgaaaaahhhhggg I just can't stop imagining them hanging out in Aleksi's studio (late at night) and eventually one thing leads to another (wine may or may not be involved) and they end up kissing while Aleksi's spouse is upstairs 😭 maybe they even get interrupted by the spouse calling for them from outside the door or something and they'd sort of snap out of it and realise what they've done. Now there are a couple of the different scenarios for what could happen next (the 'evil' in this is the author):

neutral good: they realise they're in love with each other and peacefully break up with their spouses and live happily ever after 💞

chaotic good: they realise they're in love with each other and peacefully break up with their spouses who also somehow fall in love with each other (peer support turns into something more? 😌) and they ALL live happily ever after 🥰

chaotic neutral: they freak out and Olli immediately goes home (he lives nearby) and it's awkward for a while between them but eventually things go back to normal. They never speak about the kiss and pine for each other until the end of their days, never knowing if the other actually feels the same 💔

lawful evil: they freak out and Olli immdediately goes home and it's awkward for a while between them until it happens again and again and a couple of times more until they realise it's wrong and they should stop and then they pine for each other until the end of their days, fully aware the feeling is mutual 😭

neutral evil: they start fooling around behind their spouses' backs until they get caught by Aleksi's spouse (who, tbf, had began suspecting something by then; the amount of time they spent at the studio was getting a little to o suspicious). To make it extra evil, maybe the spouse doesn't even walk in on them but sees them through the window of Aleksi's studio and doesn't even do anything about it at first, deciding to give Aleksi multiple chances to spill it himself (as if that would change anything now the damage has already been done) 🫣

chaotic evil: Olli is staying at Aleksi's that night (he lives in Oulu) and they are forced to act normal while having dinner upstairs with Aleksi's spouse 💀

...thanks for reading 😇

[channieskies]

Chapter I: The Nameless Prince

Pairing: Prince Hyunjin x Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Historical|Au, Fantasy|Au, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty|Au, Angst, Smut, NSFW tags are under the cut.

Synopsis: The kingdom of Volantis is in disarray; the monarch rules with an iron fist. The times of hope, harmony, and kindness were buried with the queen who passed many years ago. The people are praying for a savior, but who will be their light at the end of this dark tunnel?

Authors Note: Please reblog or leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites.

Word Count: 1705

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Story Index

Warnings⚠️: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites. Mentions of Death, Abuse, Child Abuse and neglect (please let me know if I missed any)

Loathing. No- maybe it was pure hatred that his father felt for him. Every little glance he took towards the child would cause his feelings to bubble up once more, like a cauldron filled with  scalding hot acid. All the hardened man could see when he gazed upon his child was the face of his wife. The woman he loved with all his heart, the one woman that made him a better person; a better king. The one woman that he held, lifeless and limp in his arms after bringing another life into the world. The light gone from her eyes, the warmth gone from her skin as the screams of the prince filled the royal birthing chambers. 

Aeri; the only woman he would ever truly love. The only light he had in his life, snuffed out with the birth of his son. He tried his best to love and care for the child whose life meant the end of his beloved. The older the boy grew, the more his face looked like his mothers. The more her reasonings and sensibilities started to come out of the boy who never got a chance to meet her, to know her. Every year marked a year away from his love, and another reason for hate to fester in the absence of it. 

Until one day, he just couldn’t stand the sight of him at all. Repugnance was all that was left. Banishing him to the far towers of the north was all that the king could do, outside of eliminating the bane of his existence with his very own hands. Leaving the child to learn to fend for himself, to grow up in the tower alone, with no one to care for him. Character. That's what his father told him to build as he slammed the carriage shut, shooing the boy and his lone servant away. Far, far away. 

Hyunjin never quite understood his father. He couldn't understand why the man treated him so cruelly. Why the other princes from different lands just seemed to be raised in complete contrast to him. A male heir was what all kings desired to have. So why was it that his father didn't seem to care for him at all, using every excuse in the book to shoo him away? He often pondered on this as he looked upon the sprawling hills outside of his northern tower. How glad he was that it was finally spring. Not that he could experience any of it. Eleven years he'd been locked away here, in this lonely tower. 

He figured the kingdom as well as the king had long forgotten that there was a prince. That there was a legitimate heir to the throne, a son born to the king and queen. Truthfully, if not for Venia, his maid- well, his only family at this point, he would have forgotten this fact as well. She would often make the months-long trip back to the King’s land to procure supplies for a few months. Bringing back more than just rations and paint supplies, but town gossip as well. The King had remarried, and welcomed five daughters in the eleven years, with one on the way, all in the absence of his only male child. 

Though his father was trying hard to produce a male heir with his new spouse, it was all for naught. Nothing seemed to work. No spell, no potion, no wish would aid in their trials. For every child they bore together, would be a girl. But the hatred he had in his heart for his son, prevented him from summoning the boy, even when sickness befell him during winter. Snow had blanketed the island of Arcta, where the Prince and his maid resided. This snowfall was unlike any other the boy had seen over his ten years moored on this island. 

Winds so strong it felt as if the tower swayed softly like one would to music. There was no life to be seen for miles, just a deserted tundra. Lifeless. Much like how he felt in the winter months. But thankfully, it was spring. He hadn't received word of how his father was doing since the late months of winter. A courier was sent to the isle to inform them of his sickness. One that braved the harsh winter and long journey to give word. 

Despite his father's loathsome attitude towards him, Hyunjin still wished him well. For the sake of the sisters he'd never had the chance to meet, he wanted their father to survive. To raise his daughters up, with love, kindness, and a protective heart. He hoped that their mother did the same. If only he could meet them, his family; maybe things would be different now. He pushed the thoughts of his father to the back of his head. Not all families were biological, he learned that some time ago. Sometimes you choose your family.

Venia was his chosen family. The woman who gave up everything to raise him, just because she didn't want him to grow up alone. To grow with resentment towards the world, his father, his people. Venia had been his mothers ladies maid since she was a teenager. Despite her status, she had become close to the queen. Their bond and friendship was so deep that upon the queen's death, Venia made the promise to always take care of the young prince, no matter what.

So when the time came that Hyunjin was shunned, she volunteered to go with the young boy. Stating that he needed care, especially at his age. His father begrudgingly let her leave with the boy, clearly hoping he'd go off to the island and perish there. She tried her best to teach her the things that the queen had taught her. Trying her best to raise the child up in the likeness of his mother, in spite of his father. The queen led with beauty, grace, and a caring and compassionate heart for her subjects.

Venia wanted nothing more than for the boy to have all of his mothers traits and none of his father's. Regardless of how hard she tried, the boy was still his father's child. A few of his father's traits would poke through from time to time; impulsiveness, impatience, the tantrums he'd throw when things would go the pace or the way he wanted them to. Though he'd learned to control the latter for the most part, he was still prone to the others. Like when he painted a mural on the dining hall wall while Venia visited the King's land. Or the time he'd cut all his hair on a whim, just because he “wanted to try something different”.

But, temperament aside, Hyunjin took to books and art to experience life outside the four walls he was contained in. He especially loved the art and tales from his home kingdom of Volantis. How the white cherry blossoms lined the outer walls of the Bailey. Making it look as if it was snowing petals in the spring. How the fragrance of cherry blossom mixed so well with the sweet scent of freshly baked bread coming from the large bakery in the center of town. The trade district was always lined with beautiful fabrics and exotic spices from distant lands. Then, just a row over live music could be heard from the different eateries that wrapped the block.

He'd experienced plenty through his readings, but that was never enough. It could never be enough, not for him. Not for the boy who'd been locked away in a tower for almost his entire life. He'd love to tour the streets of his home, trying different foods, listening to live music, since he's only heard the humming of songs from Venia. Though sweet, he was sure it was nothing like the real thing. “Where would this be, your highness?” Venia loved to hover, this time it was from curiosity.

Lately, Hyunjin had been dreaming of places he'd never been or seen. Not that it was unusual, being that he'd only been to the inside walls of the castle town and made the trip to this lone isle, that was the extent of his travel history. Everything was new to his eyes. “Feels..like… a home. Warm, inviting, safe. But, I do not have the slightest idea where it's from, though.” 

The painting was of a small castle just outside a grove of apple trees with beautifully ripe red apples, ready to be picked from its boughs. Their branches were filled with apple blossoms, he could tell their scent was just as sweet as the cherry blossoms that filled his land. At least that was how he imagined it.

The sky was painted with swirls of blue and pink, dotted with white clouds that faded into varying shapes and sizes. “Is that a princess I see?” She pointed to one of the windows of the castle, careful not to touch the still drying paint. There was a girl, dressed in all white leaning on the windowsill, the doors to which were wide open. She was drenched in sunlight, basking in it. Total calm was all over her face.

“I suppose.” He never knew just quite where his inspiration came from. He just put to canvas what his mind had in store. Truthfully, he didn't know if this was from a dream or him recounting a story he'd once read. “More than just royalty live in castles, Venia.” She giggled at his response.

“Of course I know that, your highness. But, that young lady seems like a princess to me. If she isn't, then she is of high born blood, like your mother was.” It was such a pity that he would never get a chance to meet the wonderful and beautiful woman that was his mother. A lonely feeling settled in Hyunjin's heart. 

There had always been a void there, one that seemed to ache anytime his mother was mentioned. “Maybe she is the daughter of a nobleman. One that owns the land and the orchard that resides on it.” Hyunjin simply shrugged. Whomever she was, she was probably living a better life than he was.

A.N: Please reblog or leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

[Rewrites, Reposts, and Translations are Prohibited]