#the spinoff fic

[louisferrignojr]

titbit tuesday or whatsitcalled

aka the bucktommy breakup/makeup fic i started writing way before 8x06 working title is "the spinoff fic (disclaimer: i don't think this is happening)"

They drive home in silence, Tommy behind the wheel and Evan in the passenger seat next to him, chewing on his bottom lip, staring out the window. There’s a tension in the air between them that’s never been there before, it sits heavy in his gut like a lead weight. Evan turns and looks at him when he feels Tommy’s hand on his thigh while they’re stopped at a red light.

“You okay?” Tommy asks, a question that slips out of his mouth like an instinct. 

“I’m fine, Tommy.” Evan sighs. “Are you okay? You’ve been… distracted, these past few days.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Evan shakes his head. He takes Tommy’s hand and laces their fingers together and squeezes. “You don’t need to apologise.” He draws in a breath and slowly lets it out. “It’s just making me kinda nervous. You’d talk to me if there was something to talk about, right?”

Tommy swallows and watches as the light turns green again. He withdraws his hand, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as he drives off. 

“What is it?” Evan asks, voice small. 

Tommy feels a tightness in his chest. “Evan…” he trails off; the words stuck in his throat that feels like it’s closing up, narrowing with every breath he takes. 

“Just tell me, Tommy. C’mon, spit it out.”

“Can it wait until we get home?” 

“Yeah, fine.”

They’re only two miles from his house, and it’s not long before Tommy is pulling into the driveway and turning the engine off. Neither of them makes a move to get out just yet. Tommy is stalling, trying to hide out in the safety of his car, knowing that once he’s crossed the threshold of his house, he’ll have to come clean. 

Evan, on the other hand, is gripping the container of the chocolate cake on his lap, staring at it in silence. He’s the first to make a move, wordlessly opening the door and climbing out. Tommy almost expects him to slam the car door shut, and he hates himself for thinking that — that’s not the Evan he knows. He sighs and pulls the key from the ignition switch and climbs out, watches as Evan unlocks the front door with the copy of his key that he’d given him some time ago and follows him inside. 

Evan sets the container at the kitchen table and turns to face Tommy, leaning against the counter, his hands gripping the edge of it. His jaw is set and his eyebrows are drawn together. He’s waiting for an answer. 

no pressure tags: @loucifersbitch @wikiangela @aringofsalt

@beefcakekinard @disaster-j @erodingsinner @rosyhoneydew

@evansbuck-ley @bi-bi-buckleys @reginamillls

[gothamite-rambler]

He's asking the real question because Tim was a wild card when he first wanted to become a Robin

Dick: You ever think that if you had said no to Tim being the next Robin he would've become a villain instead?

Bruce spat his drink out in shock.

Bruce (between coughs): I thought I was jumping to conclusions!

Dick: Yeah, nah I love Tim, he's my brother, but... Jesus Christ this could've been an 'Incredibles' situation. So I'm glad you put aside how you usually are and let him work with you.

Bruce (confused): Thank you... Wait what do you mean how I usually am?

Dick stood up and walked off.

Bruce: The silence speaks volumes!

Dick: Don't care.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [Spinoff Masterlist]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader ↪ The Way to His Heart [Main Story]

⌈You're advised to read the spinoffs according to the sequence below, the stories have already been arranged in chronological order.⌋

Pairing: private investigator!Wooyoung x courtesan!reader ↪ Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 [Completed]

Pairing: dressmaker!Hongjoong x noblewoman!reader ↪ Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 [Completed]

Pairing: physician!Yunho x herbalist!reader ↪ Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 [Completed]

Pairing: royal secretary!San x female scholar!reader ↪ Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 [Completed]

Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader ↪ Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 [Completed]

Pairing: assistant!Jongho x new maid!reader ↪ Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 [Completed]

Pairing: prince!Yeosang x princess!reader ↪ Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 [Completed]

All Rights Reserved © edenesth

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF THE WORK HERE.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Spinoff: Kim Taehyung

A/N: our resident unfeeling brother has started to pester his princess. Also, this is just a sneakpeak and I haven’t actually started writing the story! I just want to get this scene out of my mind 😅

“You demanded and borderline blackmailed me and the company I work for,” you began, glaring at him, “that from then on onwards, you would only be interviewed by me and me only. Your irrational demand forced me to miss an exposé in the west that I’ve spent months working my ass off for.”

His grin only widened as you fought to hold back the rest of your exasperation. The sheer audacity! Now, instead of making waves with hard-hitting journalism, you were stuck in this room with a man who seemed more concerned with your attention than the world outside.

You needed to finish this so you could at least pretend to get your life back on track.

“That’s too bad, princess,” he commented quietly before taking a slow sip of his wine, barely hiding his amusement.

You huffed, “It really is, isn’t it? So if you could answer my questions about your career instead of asking about my childhood, my adolescent years, my university years, my friends, love life, family background, and work, then maybe we can finish it today.”

He tilted his head, his eyes looked particularly darker in this light. “I don’t think we can finish this today, princess-“

“Fine, I’ll come back tomorrow—” you started, your voice clipped with frustration.

But before you could stand up, Taehyung smoothly rose from his seat and moved toward the window behind you. He pushed it open, revealing the ominous, stormy skies outside. The wind howled, sending a chill through the air as the storm brewed intensely on the horizon.

"You’re not going anywhere tonight," he said, his voice low and almost teasing. "Looks like the storm has other plans for us."

Your heart sank as you realized you were stuck here, with no way out until the storm passed.

All of which were according to his plan.

Read more in Kofi

[leclerc-s]

mastermind - part one

series masterlist // next

MONACO 2024

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton, logansargeant and others

aurorabutton a little pre-monaco grand prix dump featuring father dearest being a menace and saturn being the best boy ever

tagged: jensonbutton

view all comments

fernandoalo_oficial your father has never looked better than he does in that picture

aurorabutton that's what i said but he complained about the horrible photo for an hour fernandoalo_oficial que dramático 😂

user1 aurora what driver are you rooting for this weekend?

aurorabutton the hometown hero of course! logansargeant so fuck me i guess? aurorabutton tell james to stop being a pussy and give you the same upgrades as alex and then we can talk about me rooting for you logansargeant williams admin, she's joking i swear aurorabutton no, i'm not williamsracing 🤨🤨

jensonbutton have kids they said, it'll be great they said, turns out they lied.

aurorabutton i'm a delight to be around father!

user2 saturn, leo, and roscoe meet up when?

user3 the three most spoiled pooches in the world becoming besties would be iconic.

user4 aurora, what do you think about lewis moving to ferrari?

aurorabutton it's about time someone got rid of that fraud at ferrari user5 close enough, welcome back untrained pr charles leclerc aurorabutton that may be the greatest compliment i've ever received

maxverstappen1 do my nights of babysitting you mean nothing? you can't even cheer for me?

aurorabutton YOU WON ALMOST EVERY RACE LAST YEAR EXCEPT FOR 2? STOP WHINING? mickschumacher yeah max, stop whining maxverstappen1 i hate both of you user6 love that she's choosing to ignore singapore. aurorabutton singapore never happened last year?? what are you talking about?? i don't remember that race happening??

user7 poor max catching strays from aurora and mick

aurorabutton poor max cries to marley and me maxverstappen1 shut the fuck up? jensonbutton don't speak to my child that way verstappen maxverstappen1 SHE JUST SENT ME A TEXT CALLING ME AN UGLY RAT? aurorabutton snitch.

natalia_leclerc so this is my fellow 55 hater?

aurorabutton oh my god. it's me! i'm a carlos sainz hater! natalia_leclerc jenson, i'm stealing your child. she's mine now oscarpiastri wow, in a hurry to replace me already? you just got me? jensonbutton please, take her. aurorabutton wow dad. just say you hate me or something

aurora button so who's the kid hanging out with charles leclerc?

mick schumacher kid? what kid?

aurora button the one that looks like a lost puppy?? wearing a bright red shirt?

max verstappen that's literally just ollie?? why??

aurora button why is he wearing bright red shirt?? he does know this is the red bull garage right?? not the ferrari garage?? max verstappen he drives for prema in f2?? why do you care?? aurora button i was just confused?? i was going to accuse him of espionage for sainz

mick schumacher wait a damn minute

mick schumacher YOU KNOW WHAT PREMA SHIRTS LOOK LIKE! YOU USED TO WATCH ME RACE!! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS ABOUT??

aurora button i did?? i don't remember that??

max verstappen now hold on just a fucking minute... aurora middle name button...

aurora button what?? mick schumacher i may be an idiot but i'm an idiot with a girlfriend max verstappen i also have a girlfriend but i'm confused if we're thinking the same thing aurora button you have a mom not a girlfriend. max verstappen STOP CALLING HER THAT! aurora button the entire internet thinks so too...

mick schumacher don't change the subject!!

mick schumacher i know what you are aurora button

aurora button what?

max verstappen enough of this cryptid shit. you like oliver.

aurora button what the fuck? who the fuck is oliver?

mick schumacher deflection.. interesting..

max verstappen OLLIE!! YOU LIKE OLLIE!!

aurora button wow all that from a text asking who the fuck that was?? he could be pulling a spygate??

mick schumacher you're an idiot.

aurora button fuck you guys. i'm never talking to you two again.

max verstappen okay sure. we'll see how long that lasts. i give you two hours.

mick schumacher i give her one

aurorabutton posted new stories

someone clearly ruined his childhood if he's doing this shit as a grown man oh great, it's the american weirdo might be surrounded by weirdos (logan and max) but at least my shoes look cute

lewishamilton replied to your story

lewishamilton be honest, did you force him to do that? aurorabutton i'm flabbergasted you would think that lowly of me lewis lewishamilton i know you aurora. you used to put fish in my drivers room when you were a kid aurorabutton okay fine, i did do that to you, but no i didn't force him to do that. he did that all on his own actually. i don't why. must have something to do with the childhood trauma he has or something.

alex albon replied to your story

alex_albon why is logan like that? aurorabutton i don't know. my theory is that he was dropped on his head as a child alex_albon hmm, that could be it. aurorabutton by the way, is lily available to grab lunch? alex_albon i knew you were going to steal my girlfriend this weekend at least once. aurorabutton oh albono, it'll be more than once

natalia_leclerc replied to your story

natalia_leclerc cute shoes, where'd you get them? aurorabutton excuse me while i go scream... natalia_leclerc i'm sorry?? aurorabutton i literally love you. you're my favorite wag. natalia_leclerc thank you. love you too? aurorabutton holy shit, i can die peacefully.

SPAIN 2024

liked by oscarpiastri, natalia_leclerc, olliebearman and others

aurorabutton españa, i came, i saw, i yelled at (1) annoying spanish man. oh and i met this weird guy in red bull gear who said he drove cars in circles?

tagged: maxverstappen1

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user7 acting as if she didn’t break f1 twitter with her revelation

user8 serving cunt must be a button trait

user9 alternate caption could be: españa, i came, i saw, i exposed (1) annoying spanish man for being in love with his ex-teammates wife and how hard he tried to break them up so she could run to him. oh and here's max verstappen i guess ❤︎ by pierregasly, aurorabutton, alex_albon and others

user9 oh these guys are so messy and i am here for it

maxverstappen1 fuck you too i guess. that's the last time i ever let you crash in my room because all the hotels were booked up and your lazy ass couldn't decide if she wanted to go to the spanish gp or not

user10 damn max no need to expose aurora like that aurorabutton we both know that's a lie maxie taxie user11 did you guys share a bed or something? maxverstappen1 i slept on the couch, i'm not weird like that aurorabutton i've known this nerd since i was kid, kelly can keep him... user11 i can't tell if this is a diss towards kelly or not

jensonbutton i see we're excluding the text message where you told me, 'that ugly spaniard is going to catch these fists.'

fernandoalo_oficial that better not have been about me? aurorabutton i can't believe you would think this way about me fernando? you are the handsome spaniard my father is in love with. jensonbutton as the children say, why am i catching strays? aurorabutton YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ADMITTED ON THE INTERNET THAT YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH HIM?? I'M JUST REPEATING WHAT YOU SAID??

user12 she lives for reminding us that she hates carlos sainz

user13 has she ever said why she hates carlos? other than the shady as fuck shit he and his family do? aurorabutton he used to be apart of our nepo-babies group chat, but after we (max, mick, and i) realized he always blamed other people for the shit he did we (i) kicked him out and we haven't spoken since. cut to a year later and all this shit with charles is happening at ferrari. user13 oh. that explains it

oscarpiastri not pictured is her jumping on logan's back and clinging like a koala

aurorabutton good times. 10/10 experience logansargeant it may not be pictured here but boy is it doing rounds on twitter and tiktok

olliebearman the weird guy in red bull gear kicked me out of his drivers room for 'stinking up the place' whatever that means

maxverstappen1 YOU WERE EATING A RAW ONION IN MY ROOM?! olliebearman listen there was 50 pounds on the line. mama didn't raise a bitch verstappen. maxverstappen1 what kind of idiot would bet you 50 pounds for that? paularon_ jeez, i wonder who would do that... maxverstappen1 you're both idiots

AHEAD OF SILVERSTONE 2024

liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and others

aurorabutton the world's biggest carlos sainz haters finally met and in the words of kendrick himself, "it's always been about love and hate. now let me say i'm the biggest hater. " i bet that jobless guy just shit himself seeing this on instagram

tagged: natalia_leclerc, carlossainz55

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jensonbutton is this what the kids call messy?

aurorabutton yes father, this is me being messy jensonbutton i've never been prouder to call you my daughter aurorabutton so fuck my academic achievements i guess jensonbutton you know what i mean

user14 tagging him is a new level of messy

user15 no one knows messy like aurora button. she grew up during peak brocedes civil war, she knows messy the best

user16 SEB LIKED THIS??

user17 of course he did, he's team charles all the way

natalia_leclerc i don't think i've ever had a gossip session quite like ours and i know pierre and esteban

pierregasly we are not that messy estebanocon we ARE that messy

user18 oh that's mother and daughter. i'm sorry jenson, she's no longer your daughter, that's a leclerc now.

user19 jenson button losing his daughter to the leclercs was not on my bingo card but honestly seems about right.

carlossainz55 very mature

aurorabutton oh now you wanna talk maturity? weren't you the one telling the media i was a nepo-baby when EVERYONE knows that move you pulled on charles in spain was stupid? logansargeant maturity is not trying to make a move on your teammate's girlfriend oscarpiastri maturity is knowing to take no for an answer patriciooward maturity is not crying to the media when your teammate races better than you olliebearman maturity is not trying to break up your former teammate and his girlfriend all because you can't take no for an answer. good thing robert doesn't have a girlfriend for you to try to manipulate or steal charles_leclerc can you just shut the fuck up for once in your life? natalia_leclerc what can we say, we really are the biggest haters. go tell that to the spanish media arthur_leclerc this is new levels of embarrassing carlos. bensantos_ruiz go cry to your dad about that user20 the leclerc-ruiz family gagged him

ollie bearman-leclerc betrayal doesn't even begin to cover what i feel

ollie bearman-leclerc mother hates me

ollie bearman-leclerc i've been disowned in the cruelest way

oscar piastri-leclerc what is this guy yapping about now??

logan sargeant-leclerc oh my god he's so dramatic

pato o'ward-leclerc it's okay, we know he gets it from dad

charles leclerc what's wrong ollie?? and fuck you pato

natalia leclerc ollie, what happened? charles, don't speak to our son that way

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU HAPPENED!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!!!

natalia leclerc me? what did i do??

ollie bearman-leclerc you know what you did pato o'ward-leclerc ollie, i don't think she does that's why she's asking. ollie bearman-leclerc oh

natalia leclerc por dios, igualito a su papa

logan sargeant-leclerc update, i figured out why ollie is salty

natalia leclerc wait, IS THIS ABOUT AURORA?!

oscar piastri-leclerc oh my god. all of this over a girl?

ollie bearman-leclerc SHE'S NOT A GIRL! SHE'S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! logan sargeant-leclerc you tell jenson that yet?

ollie bearman-leclerc i don't understand why i couldn't be invited to hang out with you two? i feel excluded

charles leclerc to be fair, they didn't invite me either? aurora said it was a 'girl's only day lechair' which is quite rude but okay

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU TALKED TO HER? DIG THE KNIFE IN DEEPER WHY DON'T YOU?

charles leclerc you are so dramatic oliver

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU LEFT YOUR DREAM TEAM BECAUSE YOUR ASS WAS GOING THROUGH A MIDLIFE CRISIS!

charles leclerc MIDLIFE CRISIS?? HOW OLD DO YOU THINK I AM??

pato o'ward-leclerc at least 69. i have to say, you aged beautifully. logan sargeant-leclerc thought you were at least 38 oscar piastri-leclerc 50??

charles leclerc fuck everyone here but my wife

ollie bearman-leclerc i mean, you have done that, that's why she's pregnant. natalia leclerc OLIVER! logan sargeant-leclerc let him speak 🗣️ oscar piastri-leclerc you're booing him but he's right??

charles leclerc you're all grounded.

pato o'ward-leclerc I DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING?? charles leclerc i know your ass laughed patricio pato o'ward-leclerc this is why i am so glad i'm an indycar driver

aurora button max emilian verstappen. who the fuck is the room next to you??

max verstappen charles is? i think? please tell me he's not having sex with natalia again. i've suffered though that enough

aurora button no, but there's screaming?? and i think they're watching bluey? i heard the themesong

mick schumacher you think or you know?

aurora button i don't appreciate the sass schumacher

max verstappen just asked charles, nat and the children are in their hotel room. they are in fact watching bluey

aurora button great, i'm going over. i want to watch bluey and i'm alone.

mick schumacher why are you rooming with max? you could've gotten your own room?

aurora button i tried, but they were all booked up. max's room has two beds, so i'm crashing with him.

mick schumacher oh, so are you going over because you're lonely or because you like ollie?

aurora button i don't like him. he is cute but i don't like him.

max verstappen is this- this is the first time aurora sophia button is admitting she finds someone cute?

mick schumacher your middle name is sophia? aurora button no...

max verstappen you don't know her middle name?

mick schumacher i'm sure i do know it but i always forget it? half the time i think your full name is maximilian and not max emilian aurora button we can only blame jos verstappen for that name max verstappen my mum named me.

aurora button everything is always jos' fault. sophie is an angel.

mick schumacher preach sister

max verstappen both of you can go die

aurora button aww, i'm telling my dad

max verstappen die.

mick schumacher are you two sure you aren't siblings?

aurora button bitch please, i'm way prettier than sid verstappen over there.

max verstappen shut the fuck up barney

mick schumacher i think she's more of a blues clues

aurora button i'm definitely a power ranger you fake bitches

max verstappen no, you're the one little alien in that movie with the boy. the one with the long fingers.

aurora button I AM NOT FUCKING ET YOU BITCH!

mick schumacher oh my god. one day of peace is all i ask for.

ollie bearman-leclerc WHY IS SHE HERE? WHO INVITED HER??

natalia leclerc max is in a meeting and she was alone oliver. be nice.

oscar piastri-leclerc HE'S ACTUALLY STUTTERING?? SOMEONE RECORD THIS SHIT!!

charles leclerc RECORD HIM! I WANT TO SEE THIS!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M MISSING THIS!!

pato o'ward-leclerc RECORD HIM! SEND THE GOODS OVER PIASTRI-LECLERC!

logan sargeant-leclerc HE'S BLUSHING! HE'S REDDER THAN A TOMATO!

natalia leclerc i think it's adorable.

natalia leclerc and he just ran out of the room.

ollie bearman-leclerc all of you are fake, except for mom.

charles leclerc the fuck did i do?

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU ASKED FOR VIDEO PROOF?!

pato o'ward-leclerc ▸ ı|||||||ıı||||ııı||ı

ollie bearman-leclerc IS THAT AN AUDIO OF YOU LAUGHING AT ME??

logan sargeant-leclerc actual tears in my eyes right now. this shit is hilarious

natalia leclerc currently questioning what the fuck is wrong with you boys??

ollie bearman-leclerc they're fucking bullying me. oscar piastri-leclerc it's the least you deserve as the youngest. ollie bearman-leclerc i'm not the youngest, leo is logan sargeant-leclerc we're not going to bully a dog ollie, we're not that cruel

aurora button i'm like 90% sure he hates me?? i never did anything to him and he hates me??

mick schumacher and what gave you that idea baby button??

aurora button he ran out of the room when i got here?

max verstappen charles has been laughing at his phone for 5 minutes. and i'm pretty sure he just played an audio of someone laughing like a maniac.

mick schumacher do you think the leclerc family has a groupchat?

max verstappen i know they do. natalia added us to it and i'm like 95% sure she made a new one after. aurora button AND YOU DIDN'T ADD ME TO IT?! max verstappen you're not even close to being a leclerc mick schumacher yeah aurora, he's charles' mistress

max verstappen maybe if you dated ollie i could add you to the group chat

aurora button oh my god i don't like him!

mick schumacher then why do you care what he thinks?

aurora button i have this thing where i need to be universally liked by everyone

max verstappen what about carlos??

aurora button carlos can go stub his pinky toe on every possible surface he can. aurora button i hope both sides of his pillow are always warm.

mick schumacher why do you have such an intense hatred for carlos?

aurora button the question is why don't you??

max verstappen he called her dad a mid-driver one time in a conversation. he tried to play it off as a joke but aurora's hated him ever since.

aurora button that shit wasn't a joke and at least my dad is a world champion. you don't see me joking about how jos verstappen was a shit driver and max is better now do you?

max verstappen you do that constantly. you tell me that all the time

mick schumacher in her defense, your dad was a shit driver compared to you. like me with my dad aurora button you were stuck with fucking haas, nikita, and gunther. how the fuck were you expected to improve?? max verstappen you were shit because you were with haas. if the car was the way it was this year i'm sure you would do great

mick schumacher you guys are great when you aren't yelling at each other

max verstappen i've become reluctant to the fact that she's never going away.

aurora button he secretly likes me

¡taglist!

@lesliiieeeee @kissesandmartinis @vellicora @blushmimi @scuderiadevils @moofli509 @girlbossnessa @scarletwidow3000 @hopenshaw

¡leclerc-s speaks!

part one to mastermind let's go!! hope you guys enjoy this story. now, ollie bearman is a menace to society, pass it on. yes i did use tweets from karma because they were important to the plot.

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Sometimes I think I’m not that weird and then I spend a solid amount of time wondering what kind of contraceptives are available in the Grishaverse and specifically how accessible they are in the Barrel, particularly based on the quote “Getting pregnant isn’t actually a special talent. Ask any luckless girl in the Barrel”. Is unwanted pregnancy more common in the Barrel than elsewhere in Ketterdam because of the lack of social services in the city and especially in its poorest areas? is it because teen pregnancies often lead to kids being kicked out so they end up in the Barrel? is there a higher statistic by product of the pleasure houses and especially if there aren’t safe contraceptives readily available in the pleasure houses? and if so what do the people running the pleasure houses do to the girls because of it? is it because unexpected pregnancies in higher social classes would just lead to rushed marriages so it’s more noticeable in the Barrel? or is the comment based solely on Kaz’s individual experience of the city, ie its slums, in which case whilst it’s telling us about the Barrel it’s not making any particular comparison to the rest of the city? I kind of assume there must be some contraceptives available because the possibility of pregnancies in the pleasure houses is never discussed but I doubt they’re readily available and based on what we know about the resources and development in the worldbuilding and timeline may not be the most reliable, in which case what is happening to indentured girls who end up impregnated? Because, somehow, I just don’t think they’re safe. (Where could I have possibly gotten that idea?) So yeah, I am, in fact, that weird. But I really need to know the answer to this.

[starshideurfics]

Tasty Tuesday - Ring my bell, part two

part one

steddie, omegaverse, flagging/signaling culture, nsfw, mdni 🔞

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s hallucinating. Or maybe Rick lucked into a better strain of weed this month, because that’s the only explanation he has for what is happening right now.

The only explanation for why Steve Harrington is gently holding Eddie’s head and guiding his face towards the omega’s crotch. 

He’s about to ask what’s happening—the dumbest question ever, Steve asked what he smells like, called Eddie on his stupid alpha bravado—and takes a breath.

Cherry pie and sweet cream floods his nose, and Eddie growls, surging forward to get closer to the scent, to the source. He presses up against Steve, the denim under his cheek hot and damp.

Steve chuckles, warm and sweet like his scent, fingers rubbing little circles over his scalp. “So what is it, mushroom pig? How do I smell?”

Tongue heavy, Eddie nuzzles deeper against Steve’s crotch, his hands coming up to hold tight to Steve’s hips. He moans, open-mouthed to huff that perfect cherry scent at the same time.

“Huh, Piggy? What do you smell?”

“Mine,” Eddie whines, high and needy, pressing his nose into Steve’s hardening little cock. “Perfect omega.”

“Eddie…” Steve gasps, his hips bucking towards his open mouth.

“Please, Steve… Need a taste. Need you.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Steve moans, holding Eddie tight in place, then realizing that he needs space to pull down his pants to free his hot pussy, and removes his fingers from Eddie’s hair.

Eddie leans back, watching as Steve undoes his fly, revealing a simple pair of white cotton panties, a tiny pink bow at the waistband and a wet spot seeping up from the gusset with a smaller one at the center front from his dick.

Another growl escapes Eddie’s throat as he holds himself back from diving into Steve’s core before it’s been unwrapped for him. Steve must sense his urgency, tugging everything down, managing to kick one leg free of his jeans and spreading his legs wide in invitation.

Eddie hasn’t been this up close and personal with a pussy in his life (he does not count being born, that’s his mom, PERVS), and to have *this pussy* before him, red and glistening with slick, smelling like tart cherries and buttery pastry… He doesn’t simply want to taste it, he *needs* to taste it.

He doesn’t think, lets instinct take over as he goes back in, licking and slurping at Steve’s pussy lips, bracketed by the soft skin of his inner thighs. There’s no finesse to his movements, his only goal to touch and taste and swallow down as much as he can.

But he must be doing something right, because Steve moans, his fingers sliding back into Eddie’s hair. The alpha preens, gets sloppier in his enthusiasm, only for Steve to pull him back by his hair and growl, “Watch your teeth. Don’t care how good it tastes, no biting.”

“Sorry,” Eddie whines, pulling at Steve’s grip on him, wanting to get back to making him feel good, to being good for the omega. He tucks his face into the crease of Steve’s thigh, brings a hand up to carefully pet over his neatly groomed bush, and murmurs, “Tell me what to do. Taste so good, wanna be good.”Eddie can feel the drool escaping from the corner of his mouth, and he doesn’t bother to wipe it.

Steve’s grip on his hair relaxes. “Like I said, watch your teeth. When you’ve got more experience maybe you can use them, but not now. Just start with your tongue. Licking anywhere is good, and you can use your fingers.” 

Eddie does as he’s told, licking at Steve, paying attention to his dick as he gently pushes one finger inside Steve, moving it around to see how the omega reacts. 

“Good job, Puppy,” Steve says, voice breathier than before. “Now I want you to crook your finger and slide right… There.” His breath catches, choking on the word as Eddie complies, stroking Steve from the inside. “Okay, get my cock in your mouth, and suck.”

He sucks, adding a swirl of his tongue around the sensitive head because he at least knows what feels good when he’s jerking off, his finger still moving inside, until Steve shudders, slick coating Eddie’s chin.

Eddie is so hard in his jeans, the taste of sweet slick, the pride in making his omega come, it only takes a few seconds of rutting against the floor of his van to cream his pants with a groan. Then, much to his surprise, Steve guides Eddie up to face him, his pupils blown wide in his pretty hazel eyes, and brings their lips together in a wet, hot kiss.

The kiss is more than Eddie’s ever done before, Steve’s tongue licking at him, the omega sucking on his upper lip.

“Not bad for your first time, Munson,” Steve murmurs when they break apart.

Instead of denying his lack of experience, Eddie noses his way down to Steve’s neck, drops a messy kiss on the side and says, “Really?”

“Yep,” Steve says with a little hum. “Gonna get you trained up real good. Have you eating this pussy like a champ.”

“Good.” Eddie scrapes his teeth against Steve’s neck, a little frustrated at his lack of scent there. He’s tired, kinda wants to kiss Steve some more.

Mostly he wants more of Steve’s scent, so he squirms his way down to rest in Steve’s lap, deeply breathing his heavenly scent.

“You never told me what I smell like,” Steve adds with a laugh.

“Cherry pie,” Eddie mumbles. “My favorite dessert.”

30 minutes ago, Eddie would have said his favorite pie was apple. Now, he’s pretty sure he’ll never eat apple pie again.

part 3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Clean Cut 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live with your tyrannical aunt and meet a man who can relate to your familial dejection.

Characters: Thor

This is a spinoff of Dirty Work

Note: I feel as if someone is crushing my uterus between two stones so needless to say today is gonna be the wooooorst. But hope y’all are well.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

The door of the bakery swings open before you can reach it. You stand back, given pause in the same moment by the ding of your phone. You keep the ringer on, knowing better than to miss a single message. You know who it is before you even look at the screen. There is only one person it could be. 

‘How long?’ Aunt Bonnie’s message is terse and to the point. You can hear her usual rigid tone through the text. 

You step back, out of the way of other pedestrians, and key in your reply. ‘At the bakery now.’ 

You don’t expect a response. She’d be disappointed if you were pulling into the driveway. The message alone tells you that you’re already late, even if you’re well ahead of schedule. 

You tuck your phone into your pocket and reach for the long bar across the bakery door. Before you can grip it, another hand wraps around the tarnished metal. You once more shy away as the tall man pulls open the door and stands back. 

“After you,” his deep timbre insists. 

You nod, chin straight, and thank him politely as you enter. You join the queue, your delay having you further back than you could’ve been. The bakery is even warmer than outside and adds to the sweat speckling along your nape. You tug at your high collar, not the best choice at the height of spring. Summer will be there soon and you don’t expect the stiff fabric will be any more forgiving. 

The man lines up behind you. Your mind reels with doubt. Should you offer him your spot? He did hold the door and technically would have been ahead of you. You sway in indecision; caught between what is proper and appeasing your aunt as quickly as you can. What’s a few more minutes? 

You turn and look up at the man as he rubs his eye socket and winces. You gasp at the sight of him, surprised by the purplish splotch that darkens nearly half his face. And the way he stands; as tall as he is, he hunches in one shoulder, his hand falling to cradle his ribs. 

“Oh my, what happened?” You ask before you can censor your curiosity. You pucker your lips guilty then flatten them to an apologetic smile, “sorry, I...” 

He clears his throat and shakes his head, “no matter, I am quite a mess.” He looks down at himself and shrugs, flinching as it no doubt pains his battered body. “I suppose you might chalk it up to a sibling rivalry.” 

You bat your lashes and nod, not sure of his meaning. You peer side to side, then back to him, recalling your original intent. You lift your chin to look up at him. He’s very big and blond and burly. 

“Um, I thought maybe... you were ahead of me,” you explain, “I’ve taken your spot, sir.” 

He considers you, eyes narrowing as his head tilts. He keeps his hand against his ribs and coughs, “nah, it is no issue. It’s only right to let a lady go first. My mother always said so.” 

“Oh, lady?” You echo in surprise, “I...” you look down at yourself. You’ve never been called a lady before, “thank you.” 

He hums and you turn back to move along with the queue. He shuffles behind you, looming. People don’t often notice you. It could be your clothing; plain, straight cut, muted, nothing special, just like you. As with anything in your life, you have only what Aunt Bonnie allows you to have. 

“The strawberry tarts are good,” the man suggests and you glance up over your shoulder at him, “pardon again, lady, I cannot read the specials board.” 

His left eye is swollen amid the blackened bruising. Another pang of sympathy tweaks in your chest. You look back to the count and read the small chalkboard by the till; “Earl Grey cookie, two for three, or apple blossoms, half off with a full pie or dozen muffins.” 

“Ah, think I’ll stick with the usual,” he mutters. “Do you have a favourite?” 

You’re surprised, and most unprepared, for his continued conversation. You dab your forehead with the back of your hand then drop it to tug at your stiff cuff. You push your shoulders up and rock back and forth, still facing the counter, “only here to grab an order for my aunt.” 

“Oh, that’s lovely. Very helpful of you. She must appreciate that,” he remarks. 

“Mm, yeah, I... try to help,” you answer and pick at your sleeve. 

“It is good to keep family close,” he exhales sonorously, “you never know...” he trails off and hisses. You peek back again as he daintily touches his cheek. “My mother loves this bakery but suppose she would throw anything I got her in my face these days.” 

You don’t know what to say. He looks worse for wear and sounds just as bad. Whatever happened can’t have been very nice. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, uncertain what other comfort you can offer the stranger. 

“Ah, but you know what they say,” he smiles bitterly, his cheek twitching, though you cannot tell if it is borne of pain or spite, “Walpurgisnacht is a new beginning. With it comes great change, eh?” 

“Walpurgisnacht?” You repeat, “yes, I... I suppose so...” 

“Did you not celebrate?” He wonders. 

You shake your head. You were not invited. That isn’t very unusual. You spent the night cleaning and when all was spotless, you hid in your room with a book. 

“Ah, I had it that everyone attended,” he says, “my mother did make sure to invite all within the county.” 

His mother? Your Aunt Bonnie mentioned that Frigga Odinson was sure to send an invitation to every household within a radius. She could not help but rant about the event, more envious than excited. You never went to any of the Odinson affairs, you were never included, though you never paid much mind to the fact. 

“Your mother is Frigga?” You ask as the customer ahead of you walks away with their order. 

“So she is, if she would still call herself as much,” he sniffs. 

“Pardon, sorry,” you apologise and scurry up to the counter, not wanting to make the clerk wait, “hi, er, I have an order number.”  

You unlock your phone, your notes app is already open with your list of to-dos. You read out the code and the man goes to retrieve the cake. You wait anxiously, bouncing on your heels. When he returns, you pay with the exact amount in cash as your aunt counted out and thank him. 

You take the box and turn, nearly colliding with the tall blond man. You move aside, penned in by those waiting for their order and the queue of new arrivals. He pays and sidles along close to you. 

“Party?” He asks as he looks at the box in your hands. 

“My cousin’s birthday,” you explain and look up at the clock on the wall, “I should go...” 

“Yes, you should. As I said, family is very important,” he insists glumly and looks around, “Oi, the lady needs through,” he says to the man crowding you from your other side, “move aside then.” 

The man looks over sharply but his glare dissolves quickly as he sees who bosses him around. He backs up enough for you to get through. The stranger, an Odinson as he claims, follows. 

“Before you go, lady,” he says, “might I have your name?” 

You turn back to him. You remember your aunt talking about Walpurgisnacht with your cousins. She said there was some trouble but you didn’t hear much more than that. She always caught you listening in so you do your best not to. 

You give your name as you connect the pieces, “and you’re Thor Odinson?” 

“You know me,” he smiles. 

“My cousins spoke of you. They were at Walpurgisnacht.” 

“Mm, a pity you were not,” he drawls as his lips curve slightly. 

“It was nice meeting you but I should go now,” you look over your shoulder, “my aunt is waiting on me.” 

“Better hurry then,” he says, “perhaps we might run into one another again.” 

“Er, maybe,” you agree thinly. It isn’t likely. You don’t go very many places, not without permission. “I hope things get better for you. Oh and I read that witch hazel works for bruises but I never tried it.” 

“Witch hazel?” He repeats and touches his split brow, “I shall try it. Thank you.” 

You turn to go and feel his gaze clinging to you. Thor Odinson. You’ve heard of him, as you’ve heard of the rest of his family. His mother has appeared at your aunt’s brunches on occasion and his father’s name is spoken often by your uncle. What you know is that they’re rich and that your aunt resents everything about them. You guess it’s why she tries so hard to be like them. 

All that doesn’t matter then. What matters is that you get home with the cake and everything else or you’ll spoil the whole party. Regardless, Aunt Bonnie will surely find some mistake to needle away at. 

🫧

You place the box on the counter as Aunt Bonnie orders around the chef. You don’t know why she didn’t have them also do the cake but you don’t dare ask. Before you can flee, she turns and catches you mid-step. She snaps her fingers and you stay. 

She goes to the deep box and lifts the lid. Her sigh fills you with dread. Her lashes flutter in exasperation and you frown. What is it now? 

“Are you serious right now? I asked for blush, not rose. Harriet will hate it.” She snarls and balls her fists as she tilts her face to the ceiling. “I told you to check. Have I not been working myself ragged to make today the absolute perfect day for my little girl? Hm, do you hate your cousin so much?” 

“No, Aunt Bonnie, I’m sorry. I did check. In the car. I thought--” 

“You have a poor eye. Or perhaps you are just like your mother. She always was jealous, she did all she could to sabotage me. She even pawned you off on me,” she sneers. 

You lower your eyes, “I can go back.” 

“And what do you think they would redo it for free? You left the store. I’ve dealt with those bakers before and they are a stingy lot. That Frigga swears by them and yet every time I go, I am disappointed.” She scoffs and wipes her hands. “Never to worry, I shall make sure at least that my part is adequate. Mm,” she pauses, “perhaps I am should not be disappointed in them. They’ve an excuse for their mistakes.” 

The look she gives you scalds. You stare at the shining tile floor. “Can I help--” 

“Yes, go set the table? Are you daft?” 

You acquiesce promptly. You take a tray to gather up the appropriate cutlery, you’ll be sure to fetch some of the monogrammed napkins as well to compliment the arrangement. The fine porcelain would be in order. 

“Make certain you polish it first,” Bonnie snips as you pass her by. 

“Yes, Aunt Bonnie,” you recite. 

“Yes, Aunt Bonnie,” she mocks derisively and waves you off as she turns to the chef. “Is that how you’re doing the lobster rolls? Those are going to fall apart.” 

That you are not the only one she reprimands hardly makes you feel better. You only feel bad for the chef. That’s the sixth chef she’s hired this year. The others have quit, along with several maids and even the gardener. You don’t have that choice. She’s family and you owe her. 

You rest the tray on a chair and go to grab a cloth to give a cursory wipe to the table. Then, you spread an ivory table cloth over the dark wood and smooth it out. With your canvas laid, you fetch the polish and a new cloth and polish each piece of silver before arranging it. 

As you make your way around the table, the smell of the polish making your head pound and your nose sting, your Aunt Bonnie stomps through the door. She has a vase of tall flowers in hand. She tuts and stops short, her nostrils rounding. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me? I said the blush cloth. To match the icing, thought it will not now. And--” 

She marches over and hugs the crystal vase to her side with one arm. She picks up a spoon, “there is a speck on this one. Are you so disrespectful? Are you doing this on purpose? Do you know who is coming to dinner?” 

“I’m sorry, Aunt--” 

“Your apologies mean nothing. Do better. I will not have you ending up like your mother. I wonder how we are even related,” she sniffs down her nose at you. “I want Frigga to see her reflection in each piece.” She throws the spoon at you and it hits your chin before you catch it. 

“Frigga? Odinson?” You sputter before you can censor yourself. 

“Huh? And what does it matter to you?” She plunks the vase down heavily so the water sloshes onto the cloth. “You won’t be meeting her. I can’t risk that humiliation.” 

She turns her chin up and struts away. You turn to look at the sodden fabric around the base of the crystal and frown. You should be happy to avoid the whole event. The few times you were included, it was only to pour the wine. 

[jellyfish-confetti]

Listen, I know Black Hat Villain Steve wasn't even a big focus in @teddywesworl 's fic "Dissonance Theory" but iT JUDT MADE SUCH A PRETTY IMAGE IN MY HEAD 🫠 so I drew him 👀

[jtl-fics]

If I ever wrote a Renee fic it'd be that somehow, despite everything, she just never heard the term wingman until she was in college and does not know the actual definition of the word.

Due to this and due to the lens that she views things through she misunderstands it to be a Christian Thing (tm) since she thinks it has to do with Angels. So she believes it is her Christian duty to wingman as hard as humanly possible for Andrew and his big gay crush on the new kid (Neil).

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

What better time to post this than spooky month!

Last year, I wrote the fic Keep Us Together As the Lights Go Dark, which you can find on my AO3. I commissioned this art by @valdevia, an incredibly talented artist :D

Thank you so much for drawing my sad sad ghost man, he came out totally incredible

[louisferrignojr]

i'm like 7k words into this breakup/makeup fic (unrelated to 8x06) let's goooo

[bonestrewncrest]

meredil cant really engage with altmeri traditions and holidays anymore because of a deep seated trauma and because hes considered a societal outcast, so he lives vicariously through arvintaro who very happily introduces him to breton traditions. here i am imagining they are attending a waking day party and getting to dress nicely for once in their lives

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Until I Found You [2]

Pairing: prince!Yeosang x princess!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 13.5k 🤡

Trigger Warnings: emotional abuse, manipulation, mistreatment

Summary: It had been a while since Lady Park's firm rejection, and the fourth prince was beginning to believe he would never get over her. Though the heartbreak had made him more mature, one thing remained unchanged: his stubborn reluctance to marry. Convinced he would never find someone who could understand his pain as deeply as the general's wife, he was unprepared for the surprise life had in store for him—one that came in the form of a foreign princess.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"It's late. We should likely retire for the night. May I escort you back to your chambers, my princess?" Yeosang's deep yet gentle voice sent a ripple through your heart—one that had been starved of warmth ever since you set foot in this foreign land. His genuine kindness touched you deeply, far more than he could ever know. For once, it was not a gesture for the sake of appearances, but something sincere.

"N-no, thank you, Your Highness," you replied, rising from your seat beside him. "I remember the way back and can manage on my own just fine."

A flicker of what seemed like admiration crossed his face as he stood to meet your gaze. "On your own? Are you sure? The palace can be like a maze at night. I don't mind walking with you—"

"I'm sure, truly," you said, cutting him off with a small, shy smile. "I was planning to explore a little more anyway. You should rest. I'll… see you soon, my prince." You bowed slightly, your reluctance was evident as you quietly exited, leaving him behind before he could press the matter further.

As much as you longed to accept his offer, you couldn't bear the thought of him seeing the reality of your living conditions or the disdainful treatment you received from the palace servants. You were far too ashamed to let him witness such things—you didn't want him to see how lowly you were regarded. You wanted to keep things as they were; for him to see you as a person with dignity, not merely as an object or a tool of duty.

It's better this way, Prince Yeosang.

Making your way back to your quarters, you realised the fourth prince had been right—it was indeed like a maze, and you found yourself stumbling through the winding paths. After a few wrong turns and frustrating detours, you eventually caught sight of the familiar building you were staying in for the time being. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. No one was waiting for you anyway, or so you thought. Yet, something was off.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you noticed the lanterns in your chambers were already lit. Who could be there? Panic surged through you—could it be your father?

Your heart raced as you noticed a line of palace maids standing in the courtyard, leading up to your room. The servants were unfamiliar to you; not the ones assigned to your service. These belonged to someone else. Clearing your throat to steady yourself, you entered cautiously, nodding in acknowledgement as the maids bowed low and greeted you as you passed.

With a shaky breath, you finally stepped into your room, your nerves still rattled by the unknown. But then you saw a figure, his back turned to you. A small breath of relief escaped when you realised it wasn't your father—just your… fiancé. But perhaps you had been too quick to let your guard down.

Your heart stopped when he slowly turned to face you, his expression dark and menacing. "Where the hell have you been?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

A chill ran down your spine at his words. Why did he care? What did it matter to him? You weren't supposed to be seen together until the morning anyway, so what could he possibly want?

"I… I was just taking a walk around the palace, Your Highness," you stammered, your voice shaking. "I thought I'd familiarise myself—"

He cut you off with a scoff, stepping toward you. That was when you noticed the slight sway in his step. He was drunk.

"Taking a walk around by yourself?" he sneered, his tone dripping with contempt. "Have you not listened to anything I've said? We are to play the perfect couple, and how do you think it would look to others if you were seen wandering around without me by your side? What kind of husband would they think I am? From now on, you are not to leave this building without me. Do you understand me, woman?"

The harshness of his words stung, your heart sinking as his command set in. This wasn't just about appearances—this was control. You opened your mouth to protest, the thought of your newfound friendship with Yeosang flickering in your mind.

"But, my prince—" you gasped as his hand suddenly gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look up into his cold, narrowed eyes.

"I said, am I understood?" he repeated, the menace in his voice unmistakable.

You trembled under his grasp, nodding tearfully. He loosened his grip, his hand trailing down your face and lingering at your neck. "Now, that's a good girl." A wave of fear swept over you as his hand continued to drift lower, sending a shudder through your body. Desperate, you forced yourself to speak.

"Y-you should rest, Your Highness," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady. "I fear it wouldn't be appropriate for others to see you here so late. We're not officially married yet."

His eyes flickered with understanding, and his lips twisted into a sly grin. The stench of alcohol on his breath was overpowering.

"Finally," he said with a slurred chuckle. "You say something smart. I'll see you tomorrow then, princess."

With a mocking smile, he turned on his heel and left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as you stood frozen in place, your heart pounding in your chest. You waited until you could no longer hear him before collapsing onto the floor, trembling as the tears you'd held back began to fall.

As you remained in the same spot for what felt like an eternity, your mind raced, torn between relief and dread. A small, bitter smile tugged at your lips—thank the heavens you hadn't let the fourth prince walk you back tonight. The thought of what could have transpired had Yeochan found him with you sent a shudder through your entire being. What if he had seen? What if no amount of convincing could have diffused his anger? The memory of his disgusting hands on you sent another shiver down your spine.

God help me, please...

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe steadily, but the reality of your situation weighed heavily on your chest, pressing down with an unbearable force. This was your future, this man—this cold, vicious prince—was to be your husband.

The thought filled you with despair. You had heard rumours about royal marriages, about how they were rarely based on love or affection, but to face it in such a brutal, personal way… it was more than you could have imagined. Tears continued to stream down your face, soaking the sleeves of your garment as you hugged yourself, wondering how you would survive this life bound to him.

Loneliness had been your greatest fear, but now, as you stared into the empty darkness of your chambers, it seemed that loneliness would have been kinder than the fate that awaited you at the ninth prince's side.

You weren't sure how long you had been sitting there, but you knew that rest was essential if you were to face breakfast the next morning. The thought of maintaining your composure—looking at least somewhat decent for the final shared meal before your father's departure, as he was finally returning to Ruhon—loomed large in your mind. It wasn't just a matter of appearance; the King and Queen of Joseon would also be present, and you needed all your strength to uphold your act around your father and your soon-to-be husband.

Like a weary spectre, you dragged yourself to your bed, the weight of the evening's events still pressing heavily on your shoulders. With a sigh of resignation, you removed the outer layer of your hanbok, letting it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap before climbing into the bed, the comforter feeling like a fragile barrier against the cold reality of your situation.

You pulled the covers close, seeking solace in their warmth, as a fresh tear slipped down your cheek. "It'll be okay," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible. As exhaustion finally overcame you, you closed your eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace amid the turmoil.

The following morning, the air in the grand dining hall was thick with formality and unspoken tension. As you sat at the breakfast table, trying to compose yourself, the King of Joseon turned to your father, a hint of concern in his voice.

"Are you truly certain it is acceptable to proceed with the ceremony without your presence, or that of the Queen of Ruhon, or even Royal Concubine Sarisu to witness the princess wed, Your Majesty?"

Your father, seated across from you, stifled a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a wicked satisfaction. He shook his head lightly before turning to you with a smug grin that made your stomach churn.

"No need," he responded, his voice laced with mockery, clearly intended for you to hear. "Princess Sarisu is my most independent daughter. She'll do fine without us. I'm sure her mother would love to see her off, but the lady is too weary to travel the distance. We'll leave our princess in your good hands, Your Majesty."

His words sent a cold shiver down your spine. You could feel the blood boiling beneath your skin, your fists trembling as you clutched the fabric of your hanbok, desperately trying to maintain your composure. Because that was a goddamned lie. Your mother was fine, perfectly capable of making the journey. This was his revenge, his way of punishing you for defying him.

While you were more than fine with the fact that you might never see him again, the realisation that you would miss the chance to see your mother one last time before your marriage struck you like a blow. She had only one daughter, and now she wouldn't even be there to witness your wedding—an event that, though not of your choosing, still held immense significance. The cruelty of your father was overwhelming, and a deep bitterness settled in your heart.

How could this man, the one who was supposed to protect and cherish you, be so heartless? The thought of him returning home to your mother, likely to mistreat her out of spite, filled you with both dread and simmering rage. But there was nothing you could do. You were trapped in this gilded cage, your future bound to a man you did not love, and your past severed by the very person who should have loved you most.

The ruler of Joseon, perceptive as ever, was quick to notice the tension simmering beneath the surface between you and your father. In an attempt to ease the heavy atmosphere, he let out a light chuckle. "I understand. Fear not, we will do well to take care of the princess. Right, Ninth Prince Yeochan?" His Majesty asked, his gaze shifting to his son seated beside you.

At the mention of his name, you stiffened, feeling your fiancé's arm snake around your shoulder. The contact was anything but comforting. Your fists clenched tightly around the skirt of your hanbok, desperately trying to stop your hands from trembling. Yeochan smiled, a smile that looked convincing enough to anyone who wasn't aware of the truth, and nodded, pulling you uncomfortably closer to him.

"Of course, Father," he replied, his tone dripping with false sincerity. "I will cherish her like the blessing she was bestowed upon me." His sweet words drew a coo from both his father and Her Majesty, their expressions softening with approval.

But your heart only hammered in dread.

Couldn't they hear the subtle sarcasm lacing his words? The forced affection in his actions? You felt as though you were the only one who could see through the facade, the only one who understood that those words, far from being a promise, were a warning. The weight of your fate pressed down on you even more heavily as you realised that no one would come to your aid. To everyone else, this was a union to be celebrated—but for you, it was the beginning of a nightmare.

"Is that right? I do hope you mean what you're saying, as this is what keeps the ties between Joseon and Ruhon strong."

The unexpected deep voice reverberated through the hall, catching everyone off guard. But for you, it was like a sudden gust of wind calming the storm within. Almost afraid that his presence was a mere figment of your imagination, you slowly lifted your head. When your eyes met the familiar figure standing at the entrance, you breathed a small sigh of relief. It really was the fourth prince in the flesh.

Oh, thank god.

Before your fiancé could react, the Queen cleared her throat, her voice laced with surprise. "Prince Yeosang, what a surprise. What brings you here, my son?"

He stepped forward, bowing respectfully to his parents. "I heard a send-off event was being held for the King of Ruhon this morning and thought I'd join," he responded, his tone calm and composed. He then turned to your father, his expression respectful. "I've come to make up for my short presence at the banquet last night, Your Majesty. I apologise for not being very social."

Your father, ever the opportunist, bit his lip to suppress a smirk, clearly amused by the situation. "Why, of course, Fourth Prince Yeosang. Please do join us."

You could almost feel the anticipation radiating from your father, eager for the drama he expected the once-rebellious prince to stir. But you knew better. The fourth prince was far too mature, too composed, to indulge in such pettiness. His presence served as a silent reminder of what true nobility looked like, a stark contrast to the cruel games your father played.

As he took a seat, his calm demeanour brought you a small measure of peace. "Good morning, my princess," he greeted you with a kind smile, acknowledging his younger brother with only a brief nod. For a fleeting moment, the weight of your situation seemed to lift.

"Good morning, my prince," you replied softly, subtly shrugging your soon-to-be husband's hand from your shoulder.

Amid the turmoil surrounding you, at least there was someone who saw through the facade, someone who, though he may not openly challenge it, was a beacon of quiet strength and reassurance.

"Careful, princess. Stare at my brother any longer, and people might mistake him for your fiancé instead," Yeochan whispered threateningly into your ear, his voice laced with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl. "Remember who you belong to."

You swallowed hard, a shiver running down your spine as you quickly averted your gaze from Yeosang. "Y-yes, Your Highness," you murmured obediently, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to suppress the fear gnawing at you.

Unbeknownst to you, none of this escaped the watchful eye of the fourth prince. He had always been perceptive, and though he knew that no arranged marriage could be perfect from the start, especially in a place as politically charged as the palace, what he saw didn't sit right with him. You were the first person within the palace he had ever considered a friend and he would hate to see you trapped in a marriage too unhappy.

Yeosang's gaze softened as he watched you, his heart heavy with unspoken concern. He knew he couldn't intervene openly, not without causing a scandal, but he would find a way to help you. For now, all he could offer was the comfort of his presence, a silent promise that he would be there if you ever needed him.

After a tension-filled meal, it was finally time to send the ruler of Ruhon off. The air was thick with formalities and forced smiles as everyone gathered in the courtyard. Your father, ever the performer, approached you with a sneer hidden beneath a mask of fatherly affection. He leaned in close, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

"Goodbye, my daughter. Have a good life here," he whispered with venom, pulling you into a brief, cold embrace. The act was flawless, his expression one of tender care, but the words he spoke cut deep.

As he began to pull away, you instinctively reached out, gripping his sleeve in a desperate attempt to appeal to whatever shred of humanity he might have left. "Father, please… I've done what you asked. Just let Mother be."

He scoffed, his eyes flicking down at you with a mix of disdain and amusement. "You think too highly of yourselves. I have more important things to do than to toy with her." His voice was icy, his words dripping with indifference. "I'd worry more about myself if I were you," he added, his tone dismissive.

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, heading toward his carriage without so much as a backward glance. You stood there, the sting of his final words echoing in your mind as he disappeared from view. The realisation that you were truly alone in this foreign land, with no family to support you, settled in your chest like a heavy stone.

As the crowd began to disperse, your fiancé approached with his usual display of false affection, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Come, love. Let me escort you back," he said, maintaining his flawless act. To those unaware of the truth, his performance was convincing, hiding the darkness beneath his smile.

Before he could take your arm, however, Yeosang stepped forward, his presence both unexpected and reassuring. "Wait, my princess!" he called out, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. "Didn't we agree to exchange more literary knowledge?" His words caught everyone off guard, especially his parents and brother. With infectious enthusiasm, he turned to the King. "Father, you won't believe it! Her Highness is incredibly well-versed in poetry and a great admirer of Shin Sukju's works. Would it be alright if I borrowed her for a bit? We'll just be in the library, and it would be a wonderful opportunity for me to bond with my future sister-in-law."

Before the ninth prince could protest, His Majesty clapped his hands in delight. "Oh, really? That's impressive! Yes, yes, like-minded young people like yourselves should definitely spend time together and learn from each other. Please, go ahead."

The Queen nodded eagerly in agreement, her eyes lighting up with genuine joy. Both she and the King seemed pleased to see Yeosang stepping out of his usual isolation and making an effort to connect with someone, even if it was the foreign princess.

"Thank you, Your Majesties," you said respectfully, bowing to your soon-to-be in-laws, not forgetting to offer a slight bow to Yeochan as well. "I shall see you soon, Your Highness."

With a gentle smile, Yeosang gestured for you to follow him. "Come, my princess." Feeling your fiancé's gaze burning into your back, you hesitated only briefly before walking away, finding solace in the fourth prince's calm and composed presence. Together, you left the courtyard, leaving your betrothed behind with a frustrated scowl hidden behind his practised facade.

Lost in your thoughts about how Yeochan would likely react once you returned from this meeting with the fourth prince, you barely noticed you had arrived at your destination.

"We're here, princess."

His voice snapped you out of your trance, and you looked around with wide eyes, startled by the unfamiliar surroundings. "Wh-what—I thought we were heading to the library, Your Highness?" you stammered, taking in the serene view of the cherry blossom garden, the very place where you had first met him. The pavilion stood before you, just as it had that day.

Yeosang smirked, gesturing for you to take a seat. "That was clearly a lie. We wouldn't be able to converse freely if we were in the library. Now, come sit with me."

With a soft chuckle, you complied, both of you settling down opposite each other. His mischievous grin hinted at the rebellious side everyone had whispered about, and you found yourself amused by it.

"Besides," he added, his tone more serious now, "I had a feeling you could use some fresh air. I hope this is alright with you. We can always leave if you prefer."

Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. There was something disarming about his considerate nature, something that made the weight on your chest feel a little lighter. You shook your head with a small smile.

"Not at all. This is more than okay."

As your gaze drifted toward the barren cherry blossom trees, the fourth prince couldn't help but notice the sorrow and quiet despair reflected in your eyes. The weight of your situation was not lost on him. To be sent away to a foreign land, bound in marriage to a man you hardly knew, and expected to act as though all was well—it was a fate he could scarcely imagine. Though he couldn't change your circumstances, he hoped, as a friend, to ease your burden somehow.

"Is... everything alright, princess?" Yeosang ventured cautiously, recalling how the ninth prince had whispered something that seemed to shatter your composure in mere seconds. The change in your demeanour had not escaped his notice, and it unsettled him. What could Yeochan have said to unnerve you so thoroughly? The thought troubled him, especially seeing how uncomfortable you appeared around the man you were meant to wed.

You gulped, offering a polite nod without fully meeting his eyes. "Yes, of course. It will take some time for me to adjust to my new life here, but I will be fine, my prince. Your concern is most kind."

His smile was faint, knowing full well your words were more for courtesy than truth. He was aware that despite the bond of friendship forming between you, there was still much distance between your hearts. He had no right to press further, not yet.

"I see," he replied, his tone thoughtful. "I hope Prince Yeochan is treating you well. My brother is known for his ambition and his... bluntness, but he should make a suitable husband... wouldn't you say?"

You struggled to maintain the smile that barely clung to your lips, biting down hard enough on your lower lip that you feared it might bleed. "I suppose... I cannot truly say. We aren't married yet, after all. He's been kind to me thus far."

In public, at least.

Determined not to dwell on your unhappy thoughts and wanting to make the most of the time spent with your first and only friend, you straightened up, beaming at him. "So, tell me, Your Highness, what are some things you think Joseon does better than Ruhon?"

Yeosang narrowed his eyes playfully at your cheeky question, a spark of mischief dancing in them. "Ah, yes, always up for a good debate, are we? I shall prove to you that this nation is indeed worth leaving Ruhon for," he quipped, his tone light-hearted and playful.

His jest made you chuckle, the weight on your shoulders lifting just a little. You knew, of course, that no argument could ever make you truly feel at ease about your forced departure from your homeland, but his attempt to lift your spirits was enough to make you feel lighter at the moment.

With that, the conversation shifted into a lively exchange. He launched into stories of Joseon's cultural achievements, its rich history of scholarship, and the honour of its warriors. He spoke of the grand palaces, the festivals that brought the people together, and the scholars who shaped the nation's identity. You found yourself engrossed in his tales, the passion in his voice making even the smallest details feel important.

In return, you shared stories of Ruhon, the traditions that bound your people, and the unique customs that defined your homeland. You spoke of the festivals under the moon, where dancers twirled to the beat of drums, and how the scent of spices lingered in the air long after the market stalls closed. You told him about your childhood, the way your mother would braid your hair by the hearth, and the songs the village elders would sing when the harvest season came to an end.

The conversation flowed easily, each of you learning more about the other's world. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt like you could simply be yourself. Yeosang's genuine interest in your stories and his willingness to share his own made you feel seen, something you hadn't experienced since your arrival.

Through this exchange, you felt the bond between you deepen. It was as though, amidst all the uncertainty, you had found a friend—a true companion who saw you not as a foreign princess, but as someone with a rich life of her own. It gave you comfort to know that in this unfamiliar world, there was someone who shared your love for learning, who appreciated the differences between your homelands, and who, in his own quiet way, made you feel less alone.

After listening to you gush about missing the sweets of Ruhon, his eyes lit up. "Oh, we have this snack called Yakgwa! It's heavenly, you must try it! I'll have the kitchen servants prepare some for us," he said enthusiastically, already rising to get things arranged.

Before he could move further, a sigh escaped his lips as he spotted his eunuch rushing over, looking frazzled. "Your Highness! We were told you were in the library, but you were nowhere to be found. The royal tutor is waiting, and it would not do to keep him any longer!"

The prince's expression immediately darkened, irritation flickering in his eyes. It seemed as though he was about to protest when, unexpectedly, he said something you hadn't anticipated. "I understand, Eunuch Hwang. But shouldn't you first acknowledge the princess and show her the respect due before all else?"

Your jaw dropped slightly at his words. That was the last thing you had expected him to say. He really was different. Gratefulness flooded through you as the eunuch, now flustered, hastily bowed. "M-my apologies, Your Highness! This servant greets Princess Sarisu, the future Ninth Princess of Joseon."

The reminder of your impending title made you shift uncomfortably, but you nodded in acknowledgement, trying to keep your composure. The fourth prince huffed in mild annoyance, then turned back to you with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, princess, it seems I have lessons to attend. But don't worry, we'll get you those sweets tomorrow."

Your breath caught in your throat. "T-tomorrow?" The idea of seeing him again was comforting, but the thought of how your fiancé would react twisted your insides with dread.

Yeosang, oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside you, smiled warmly. "Yes, tomorrow. I'll escort you myself."

Your eyes widened in panic. You shook your head vigorously. "N-no! I'll come meet you myself!" Something flickered in his gaze, a quiet realisation, but he didn't press you. His understanding smile remained, though you could sense that he was beginning to notice something wasn't quite right. "Of course, princess. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Same place, same time."

You nodded, your voice soft as you repeated his words. "Same place, same time. See you, Your Highness."

With one last smile, he bowed his head slightly before turning to follow his eunuch, leaving you standing there, heart racing at the thought of tomorrow—and the inevitable confrontation you might have to face.

That evening, you returned to your chambers with a heart heavy with dread, expecting the ninth prince to be waiting, but to your surprise, the room was empty. Not a single soul lingered—not even the group of servants assigned to you. It seemed they hadn't bothered to wait for you to return and dismiss them.

With a tired shrug, you went about your routine, refreshing yourself and settling down with one of the few books available in your quarters. But as you read, a furrow creased your brow. The sky outside had grown dark, and no one had come to light the lanterns. You waited for a while longer, hoping someone would arrive, but it became clear no one was coming.

Sighing, you rose from your seat and made your way to the storeroom to fetch the necessary items. It was a menial task, but with your own hands, you lit the lanterns one by one, the soft glow slowly filling your chambers. Dusting off your hands, you gazed around at the lit room with a small sense of pride, but that brief satisfaction was quickly overshadowed by the rumbling of your stomach.

Crap, I'm starving...

The usual time for your meal had long passed, and still, no one had come to bring you food. You stood by the entrance of your cold, lonely chamber, waiting, your stomach growling louder with each passing minute. The chill in the air began to creep into your bones, but still, there was no sign of anyone.

After what felt like an hour, the cold became unbearable, and you retreated back inside, pulling the covers of your bed over yourself. Laying there somberly, you couldn't help but wonder if this was Yeochan's punishment. His way of showing you the consequences of spending time with his brother.

You hadn't eaten much that morning. If only you'd known that would be your only meal of the day, you might have had more. But now, all you could do was hug your empty stomach and curl into your side, trying desperately to fall asleep on an empty belly.

As you curled up beneath the covers, the ache in your stomach gnawing at you, a small smile crept onto your face. Despite the discomfort and the coldness of your empty chambers, the thought of tomorrow brought you a glimmer of warmth. You were going to see Yeosang again, and that simple fact made everything feel a little more bearable.

Tomorrow, there would be no pretence, no masks to wear. Just you and your friend, sharing stories, and learning more about each other's worlds. That hope was enough to chase away the shadows of the evening, if only for a while. You sighed softly, your mind finally quiet, and with that thought, you allowed sleep to take you, clinging to the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

The next morning, your chambers remained eerily quiet, a clear sign that no one had any intention of attending to you. You rubbed your growling stomach, frowning as the realisation sank in that you'd be left to fend for yourself again. Sighing softly, you went about getting dressed, thankful that the task wasn't overly difficult. Back home, you and your mother had grown accustomed to doing things on your own, so you managed just fine. The hanbok, with its simpler design compared to Ruhon's attire, was much easier to slip into, and while your hair wasn't as neatly styled as the palace servants would have done it, it was at least presentable.

The gnawing ache in your stomach remained, reminding you that no meal had been provided. You bit your lip, trying to push the discomfort aside. But then, a glimmer of hope sparked within you as you remembered Prince Yeosang's promise from the day before. He had mentioned getting the kitchen to prepare some sweets—perhaps that would be your salvation today.

Enduring the hunger, you bided your time until noon, your anticipation slowly building with each passing minute. By the time you made your way toward the cherry blossom garden, your heart was fluttering with excitement. The thought of seeing Yeosang again brought a warmth that softened the cold indifference of the palace. Even if everything else seemed uncertain, you found solace in the one friendship that was blossoming amid the darkness.

As you approached the garden, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the sight of the familiar pavilion and the thought of spending time with the fourth prince making everything feel, at least for now, a little more bearable.

"Good afternoon, princess," the familiar deep voice called out, filling you with a sense of warmth and relief. It was all you needed to feel better. As you turned toward the table, your eyes sparkled at the sight of the colorful array of snacks displayed before you. The vivid hues of the treats beckoned, a stark contrast to the dullness of your morning.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness," you greeted Yeosang, your voice lighter than it had been all day. As you moved to settle down, a loud growl erupted from your stomach, the sound echoing embarrassingly between you both. You quickly bit your lip, cheeks heating up in mortification.

His eyes widened in surprise. "Haven't you had your breakfast yet?" he asked, concern replacing his usual teasing tone.

You cleared your throat, scrambling for an excuse. "I-I… I was just too excited to try these," you gestured to the snacks on the table, forcing a smile. "You know, had to make space for them."

His brow furrowed as he shook his head, clearly unconvinced. "Absolutely not," he chided gently. "You know better than to skip such an important meal for some sweets." His voice was stern yet filled with genuine care, a tone you hadn't heard directed toward you in so long. "Stay here. I'll get you some proper food."

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest as you watched his reliable figure move away, leaving your side to fulfill his promise. You blinked back the sudden tears that welled up in your eyes.

God, why couldn't he be the one you were meant to marry? You hugged yourself tighter, the thought slipping into your mind unbidden, making the situation even harder to bear. The fourth prince's kindness, his gentle presence—it was all you wanted. Yet, your fate was bound to another. Still, in this fleeting moment, you allowed yourself the indulgence of wondering what it would have been like if things were different.

Yeosang returned swiftly, carrying a tray of steaming food with a determined look in his eyes. "Here you go," he said as he set the meal before you. The warm, savoury aroma made your stomach ache even more with hunger, and despite the embarrassment that still lingered, you couldn't deny how much you needed this.

"Eat," he instructed softly, his tone leaving no room for protest. You nodded, grateful beyond words, and dug into the meal. The warmth of the food instantly soothed the emptiness gnawing at your insides, and you couldn't help the small hum of satisfaction that escaped your lips. He smiled, watching you with silent approval.

"You shouldn't go without food, princess. How else will you have the energy to put me in my place when we debate Joseon versus Ruhon?" he teased lightly, the tension lifting between you.

You chuckled, swallowing a bite. "You have a point, Your Highness. Can't have you winning all the arguments, now, can I?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "I wouldn't want that either." His voice was rich with amusement, the sound easing the tightness that had settled in your chest earlier.

Once you had your fill of the warm meal, he pushed the tray of sweets toward you. "Now you can enjoy these without starving yourself."

Your eyes brightened as you looked at the colourful treats. "Thank you," you murmured, popping a piece of Yakgwa into your mouth. The honeyed flavour melted on your tongue, every bite as delightful as he had described. As you enjoyed the sweets, the conversation between the two of you flowed like a river, smooth and endless.

You began with light topics—favourite poems, childhood stories—before moving on to deeper discussions. Yeosang shared captivating tales of Joseon's history, recounting stories of ancient kings and battles long past, while you spoke of Ruhon's traditions, the bright stars in its night skies, and... your mother.

"You must be close to her," he observed with a gentle smile.

You nodded, your chest tightening at the thought of your mother. "Very. She's the one thing I truly couldn't bear leaving behind."

He glanced down, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach out to you but stopped himself. "Perhaps you'll see her again someday."

"Perhaps..." you whispered, though the doubt in your voice was unmistakable. You quickly steered the conversation elsewhere, eager to escape the painful thought, diving back into the differences between Ruhon and Joseon.

Yeosang listened closely, his curiosity evident in the way he soaked in every detail you shared. In turn, he painted vivid pictures of life in Joseon, filled with colour and history. The two of you became engrossed in friendly debates, passionately defending your homelands' best qualities.

As the conversation wore on, it became lighter, drifting toward more personal topics—his love for archery, your fondness for dancing, and even the odd rumours that floated around the palace. Laughter came easily between you, the weight of your circumstances momentarily forgotten.

"I think you'd be excellent at archery," he remarked thoughtfully.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing. "Me? With a bow and arrow? I'd probably end up shooting myself in the foot."

"I seriously doubt that," he teased. "But if you ever want to give it a try, I'd be more than happy to teach you."

"Perhaps one day," you replied with a soft smile, savouring the thought of a future where you might be free enough to take him up on the offer.

The hours passed unnoticed as you shared stories, thoughts, and dreams. The afternoon sun cast golden rays over the pavilion, and in his presence, you felt lighter—like you weren't just a pawn in a political marriage, but a person with your own desires.

You returned to your empty quarters that evening, but the silence and cold no longer bothered you. After the warmth and joy of the day spent with Yeosang, the loneliness felt distant, almost irrelevant. You were more than full, not just from the food but from the conversation and laughter shared under the cherry blossoms. The routine of solitude upon your return had become something you could bear, as long as your afternoons were filled with his presence.

The same pattern unfolded the next day and the entire week after that. Each morning, you would wake to the empty quarters, handle your own needs, and then make your way to the pavilion where he would be waiting. Together, you found comfort in each other's company. He was your first and only friend here, someone who understood your situation without having to ask too many questions. Over time, a mutual understanding and respect blossomed between you, both of you finding solace in these stolen moments.

You learned more about him each day, his quirks and passions, while he listened to your stories of Ruhon with genuine interest. The hours flew by in those afternoons, filled with the easy flow of conversation, laughter, and sometimes, comfortable silence. At this point, you had grown content with the way things were. If nothing changed, you thought you could be fine living like this forever. The thought of it made your heart flutter—an afternoon with the fourth prince, a quiet return to your quarters at night, and no pressure from the palace or your impending marriage to Prince Yeochan.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon one evening, casting golden light over the pavilion, Yeosang broke the comfortable quiet. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk you back?" His voice held a note of longing, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you truly wanted.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart stir in a way you weren't ready to admit. "I'll be fine," you assured him, trying to steady your voice and the fluttering in your chest. "I'll see you tomorrow. Same place, same time."

He nodded, though his gaze lingered on you a moment longer. "Same place, same time," he repeated softly, his voice betraying the unspoken emotions that hung between you.

As you walked away, you could feel his eyes on you until you disappeared from view, your heart both aching and content at once. These moments with him had become your escape, a reprieve from the storm looming over your future.

For now, that was enough.

Your steps slowed to a crawl as you neared your quarters, a stark contrast to the usual emptiness. Tonight, the windows were brightly lit, and the servants were suddenly lined up like soldiers, just as they had been that fateful night. The last time this had happened, Prince Yeochan had come, drunk and unpredictable.

Dread twisted in your gut as you took in the scene, your heart pounding so hard you could hear the frantic rhythm in your ears. What was he going to do this time? Memories of that night came flooding back—his sharp words, his cold grip, the way he loomed over you as if daring you to resist. But you knew there was no escape. This was your fate. Whatever he wanted, you had no choice but to obey. It was your duty. The thought of it made your heart sink, heavy with the weight of powerlessness.

As you neared the entrance, your eyes landed on the palace maids standing by, their smug smiles and knowing looks making your stomach churn. They had seen this before and even enjoyed it. They were eager for your downfall, eagerly awaiting the moment you'd be humiliated, just like last time. Their bows were mocking, insincere, dripping with scorn.

"Welcome back, Your Highness. Oh dear, perhaps we should've given you a heads up," one of them sneered, her voice laced with false sweetness. "The ninth prince has come to visit."

Your throat tightened as the words registered. Yeochan was inside, waiting. You could already feel the walls closing in around you, suffocating you before you even stepped foot inside. The fear of what awaited you on the other side of that door made your legs feel like lead. But you forced yourself to move, to step forward, to face whatever punishment he had in store. Because you had no choice.

This was your life now.

And as you crossed the threshold, you wished—just for a fleeting moment—that you were back in the cherry blossom garden with Yeosang, where everything felt safe and warm. But that dream was far away now, and reality was waiting for you behind that door, cruel and unrelenting.

"There you are, princess," Yeochan's voice slithered through the room, low and deliberate, as you entered the chamber. Your eyes immediately dropped to the floor, your body instinctively bowing deeply before him.

"G-good evening, Your Highness," you whispered, your voice betraying the trembling fear coursing through you.

He eyed you up and down, his silence stretching uncomfortably before a smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't one of amusement but of something darker. "You seem well. A little too well for my liking. A week with no one to serve you, and yet here you are—more content than anything, out gallivanting every single day." He took a step forward, his words laced with accusation. "Care to tell me where you've been all day?"

You felt your hands clutch the fabric of your skirt, squeezing it so tightly you feared it might tear. Your heart raced, the walls closing in around you. "I-I…" The words caught in your throat, terror and shame making it impossible to answer. How could you possibly tell him the truth?

His smirk deepened, his gaze sharp as a blade. "The fourth prince must've been very good to you, hm?" His voice was dripping with venom. "What do you think would happen if word got out? That it wasn't enough he once tried to steal General Park's wife, but now he's after his younger brother's betrothed too?"

His words hit you like a cold slap, your blood running ice-cold as your knees gave way beneath you, sinking to the floor before him. You felt weak and powerless under his cruel, threatening gaze.

A dangerous laugh echoed through the chamber as he watched you crumble. "Perhaps then Father would finally take proper measures against him," he mused darkly, the amusement in his tone quickly vanishing. He turned, his expression hardening into a cold glare. "I've honestly had it with you. But then again, it's no surprise. Your kind would go out and whore around the first chance they get. And of all people, you had to embarrass me by choosing that degenerate?"

Tears welled in your eyes, fear gripping you tightly. While you might've anticipated his wrath, you couldn't allow him to drag the fourth prince into this, to ruin the only thing that had brought you solace in this foreign, suffocating life.

Not Yeosang—he didn't deserve that.

"I… We didn't do anything, Your Highness. We're just friends," you pleaded, the tears now spilling down your cheeks. "If you wish, I promise not to see him again. Just... leave His Highness alone."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Yeochan's smirk returned, more sinister than before. He knelt before you, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Really? Is that what you want?"

You nodded frantically, swallowing hard. "Yes... please."

His smirk widened. "That depends on your performance then, doesn't it? Don't let me down, princess."

The weight of his threat hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as he rose and walked past you, leaving you kneeling in the cold chamber, your tears staining the floor beneath you.

I'm so sorry, Prince Yeosang...

"Where is she?" the fourth prince murmured to himself, his gaze fixed on the steaming bowls of food slowly losing their warmth. The servants had prepared everything right on time, just as they had done every day for the past week. And every time, without fail, you arrived promptly, your face lighting up the moment you stepped into the garden. But today, there was no sign of you.

He tried to brush off his unease, telling himself there must be a simple explanation. Maybe you were running into trouble with your quarters, or maybe your attire or hair was taking longer than usual. Yeosang's mind flickered to the oversized shoes you'd been given, his brow furrowing. He'd reminded you to ask for better-fitted ones, hadn't he? What if you'd tripped because of them? The thought made him chuckle lightly, trying to dispel the growing knot of concern in his chest. No need to overthink it, he thought.

Maybe she overslept.

The image of you with tousled hair and sleepy eyes brought a smile to his face, one that lingered a little too long. Slowly, realisation dawned on him. Do friends think of each other this way...? he wondered. Since the day you two had become close, he found that thoughts of you followed him everywhere. Even when he wasn't with you, his mind strayed back to your laughter, the way you spoke about Ruhon with such fondness, the light in your eyes when you teased him about Joseon. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you.

But now, as he stared at the empty seat across from him and the bowl of stew cooling in front of it, his thoughts shifted from fondness to worry. You'd never been late before. Where were you?

The prince's fingers drummed anxiously against the wooden table. As the minutes stretched on, the gnawing feeling in his stomach grew worse. What if something had happened to you?

No, don't overthink it, he told himself again, trying to keep calm. But with each passing moment, his composure faltered, his mind conjuring all sorts of possibilities. You were alone in this unfamiliar palace, with no allies but him. He knew what kind of dangers lurked in the shadows, especially for someone as isolated as you.

He stood up abruptly, unable to shake the dread that was slowly taking hold of him. He had to find you. Whatever had delayed you, he couldn't just sit there, waiting.

"Please be okay, princess..." he muttered under his breath, his heart clenching at the thought of something being wrong. He grabbed his cloak, striding purposefully out of the pavilion. He wouldn't rest until he knew you were safe.

His feet led him instinctively to your quarters, a place he'd never seen but had always pictured to be grand and befitting of your status. Yet, as he slowed his steps and approached the area, his brows furrowed in disbelief. The quarters before him were anything but grand. They were one of the more neglected chambers in the palace, the kind usually reserved for lesser guests, not for someone soon to become the Ninth Princess of Joseon.

This... can't be right, he thought, his gaze hardening as he took in the sight. The King and Queen never would have agreed to this if they knew. Who had placed you here? His mind immediately turned to the only person capable of such pettiness—his brother.

His jaw clenched at the thought, but before he could mull over it further, the palace maids stationed at the entrance of your chambers bowed deeply.

"These servants greet Your Highness," they said in unison.

He nodded in acknowledgement, but when he tried to take a step forward, they subtly moved to block his path.

"Deepest apologies, Prince Yeosang," one of them said, her tone laced with formality, "but Her Highness the princess wishes not to see anyone today."

His status as your future brother-in-law, rather than a direct family member or fiancé, dawned on him. It would be inappropriate for him to insist on seeing you, no matter how much he wanted to make sure you were alright. Still, concern gnawed at him, and he couldn't help but ask, "Is she okay?"

The maid closest to him bit down on a smirk, as if sharing an inside joke with herself. "Yes, Your Highness. Why do you ask? The ninth prince was just here last night. He left after ensuring she was fine."

His heart sank. Yeochan was here? His mind raced. Did he find out about our meetings? Knowing his brother's volatile pride, it wouldn't have been surprising if he had lashed out. The thought of Yeochan taking his anger out on you made his chest tighten.

He cleared his throat, trying to mask his unease. "O-oh, I see... I was just uhh... hoping to meet the princess for another study session," he said, forcing a smile.

The maid bowed again, her gesture more dismissive this time. "Perhaps another time, Prince Yeosang."

He blinked, feeling the sting of rejection but knowing there was little he could do at this moment. He took a step back, his heart heavy. "Perhaps..." he echoed softly.

With a final nod, the fourth prince turned and walked away, his mind filled with worry. His thoughts circled back to you—your absence today, the state of your quarters, and the lingering fear that something was terribly wrong. He had to find a way to see you, to make sure you were safe.

Wait for me, princess.

"Congratulations, Your Highness. Since you've been good, Prince Yeochan is rewarding you with dinner tonight. Enjoy," one of the maids said, her tone dripping with insincerity as she and the others stepped into your room. They carried trays with the same paltry rice and side dishes they had served you since your first day here. But despite the meagre meal, your empty stomach didn't care. After being starved all day, anything edible seemed like a feast.

Scrambling over to the dining table, you thanked them softly, even though they didn't deserve it. You sat down quickly, hands trembling as you began to eat, the food filling the gnawing ache inside you. But the relief was short-lived. You paused mid-bite when you noticed the smug expressions plastered on the maids' faces. Something was coming, and you dreaded it.

You wiped your mouth with shaky fingers and whispered, "Y-you may go."

One of the maids let out a sarcastic coo. "Oh, but princess, don't you want to hear all about the fourth prince's surprise appearance today? He came all this way to see you."

Your body froze, the warmth of the food in your stomach doing nothing to quell the sudden chill that overtook you. Yeosang was here...? The realisation hit you like a blow, and your heart clenched. You tightened your grip on the utensils, willing your hands to stop shaking.

"If we didn't know any better, we'd think he was your lover... but you wouldn't do that to your betrothed now, would you?" another maid added with a wicked smirk. Her words cut through you like a knife, but you dared not look up, staring at your food with tears welling in your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to force them away.

"N-no..." you choked out, barely above a whisper. "I wouldn't."

"That's what I thought," the leader of the group sneered. "After all, what would people say if they knew? The ninth prince would be furious, don't you think?"

You kept your gaze locked on the table, your chest tightening as they circled around you like vultures, feeding off your discomfort.

Finally, with a mocking bow, they left the room, closing the door behind them with a soft click. The moment they were gone, your head dropped into your hands, the weight of their words pressing down on you. The food sat heavy in your stomach now, each bite you had taken feeling like a betrayal.

Yeosang had come to see you, and you weren't there. You could only imagine how worried he must have been, wondering why you hadn't shown up today. And now, all you could think about was the thinly veiled threat in the maids' words.

Tears finally escaped, sliding down your cheeks as you sat in the silence of your room. You hadn't done anything wrong, but somehow, everything felt wrong—like you were trapped in a cage with no way out.

Lying in bed, Yeosang couldn't sleep. His thoughts kept drifting back to you—how you'd smile, your voice when you spoke about the things you loved, the way your eyes lit up over the simplest things, like a plate of sweets. He thought he understood love when he'd pined for Lady Park, but this... this was different. The weight in his chest was heavier, the ache more painful. With the general's wife, there was always distance, a barrier he could never cross. But with you, everything felt natural—like the world aligned whenever you were near.

He tossed and turned, trying to push the thoughts away, but they wouldn't leave him. His heart was breaking all over again, only this time it felt worse, deeper than before. He had waited for you at the pavilion every day, hoping that maybe you'd just been delayed the first time. But as the days passed and you never showed up again, the hope he clung to slowly withered. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

Each day, he'd pass by your quarters, but the doors remained tightly shut, without a single sign of life behind them. He thought of knocking, but the way the palace maids had treated him before made it clear he wasn't welcome. His mind raced with questions: What happened to you? Were you okay? Were you eating? Were you sleeping soundly, or were you struggling, just like him?

The thoughts gnawed at him, and finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Throwing off the blankets, he pushed himself out of bed. He needed air, something to clear his mind from the torture of endless questions. He slipped on his outer robe and quietly made his way out of his chambers, the palace eerily silent in the late hours of the night.

His feet led him on a path of their own, and before he realised it, he found himself in the garden that faced the small pond where the two of you had sat together on the night of the banquet. The memories hit him with such force that he had to stop and catch his breath. You had looked so beautiful that night, the soft glow of the lanterns reflecting in your eyes. It had been a fleeting moment, but it had meant so much to him. He was sure it had meant something to you too.

To his surprise, the lanterns were still there, hanging gently in the night breeze. They were the same ones from that night. Perhaps they'd been left up because of the upcoming royal wedding, a reminder of what was supposed to be a grand celebration.

The fourth prince stood there, staring at the pond, the reflections of the lanterns dancing across the water. He remembered how you'd sat beside him, how close you'd been, how easily the conversation had flowed between you. And now, you were gone. Not physically, but... gone from his life in a way that made him feel lost, like a part of himself had disappeared too.

A sharp pain gripped his chest. Was this love? If it was, it felt like too much to bear. He had thought losing Lady Park was painful, but this was different. The weight of it felt unbearable, like he was being crushed under the possibility that he might never see you again.

His thoughts were interrupted when his ears caught the faint sound of someone crying. He froze, his breath hitching as the soft sobs pierced the quiet night. For a moment, he dismissed it as nothing more than the echoes of sorrow often heard within the palace walls. The palace staff loved to whisper of haunted spirits—the restless souls of those who had taken their own lives, trapped within the suffocating confines of court life. Such tales were frequent, and he knew better than to believe them.

Still, the sound unnerved him, not because of any fear of ghosts, but because it reminded him of the very real torment experienced by so many who lived under the weight of the royal family's rules. Perhaps it was just another of the King's properties—a concubine or a servant—mourning their fate. With a sigh, he prepared to leave, thinking it would be better to search for peace elsewhere. But something caught his eye.

A flash of lavender fabric peeked from behind a nearby tree, illuminated faintly by the lanterns. Yeosang's heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening. Lavender... the exact colour you'd worn the first time he met you. It could be a coincidence—anyone could wear such a colour—but the hope blooming in his chest was undeniable.

What if it was you?

He couldn't just walk away. Not now.

With careful, deliberate steps, the fourth prince approached the trembling figure behind the tree. His breath was shallow, his nerves on edge, as the soft weeping grew clearer with every step. The closer he got, the more his heart ached. The sight before him was enough to tear him apart.

It was you.

You were curled up against the rough bark of the tree, your knees drawn to your chest, hands clutching the edges of the lavender hanbok tightly. Your body shook with silent sobs, the sound so fragile that it made Yeosang's chest tighten painfully. He could barely stand seeing you like this—so vulnerable, so broken.

For a moment, he hesitated. He wasn't sure if you'd want to see him right now, especially in this state. But he couldn't just leave you like this. Not after days of wondering if you were alright, not after the constant worry that something had happened to you. Seeing you now, alone in the dark, crying as if the world had crushed you... it was unbearable.

"Princess..." he whispered softly, his voice gentle as if speaking too loudly might shatter you completely.

You flinched at the sound of his familiar deep voice, your head snapping up in surprise. When your tear-streaked eyes met his, a flood of emotions passed between you. Shock, fear, relief... and something else. Something deeper that neither of you dared to voice aloud.

"Yeosang..." you breathed, your voice weak and trembling, barely above a whisper.

Without thinking, he knelt down beside you, his eyes full of concern. "What happened? Why are you out here like this? I've been so worried... Where have you been?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in your throat. Tears streamed down your face again as you struggled to find the strength to answer. You were supposed to be stronger than this, to hold everything together, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the fear, the loneliness—was too much.

His heart broke all over again, seeing you like this. He reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and comforting. "It's okay," he whispered. "You don't have to say anything. Just... let me stay with you, alright?"

For a long moment, you simply stared at him, the warmth of his presence slowly easing the tight grip of despair around your heart. Then, as if you couldn't hold it in any longer, you nodded, and he gently pulled you into his arms. You collapsed against him, your sobs muffled against his chest. He held you tightly, cradling you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn't feel so alone.

As your sobs began to fade and your breathing steadied, a heavy silence settled between the two of you. But even as the tears stopped, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away from him. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, grounding you in a way you hadn't felt in so long. You kept your eyes closed, pressing closer to him, feeling his steady heartbeat against your cheek. His scent—earthy and soothing—wrapped around you like a protective barrier from the world outside. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt safe.

You didn't want to move. You didn't want to leave his arms, leave the calm that came with being next to someone who actually cared. The reality of your life—your engagement to the ninth prince, the cruelty of the palace, the loneliness—seemed so far away when you were here, in this quiet moment with Yeosang.

Letting out a shaky breath, your fingers tightened around the fabric of his robe, clutching onto him like he was your lifeline. And in a way, he was. You whispered, your voice raw and barely audible, "I-I can't do this anymore... wh-why couldn't it have been you, Yeo?"

For a moment, he stilled. Your words hung in the air between you, and he wondered if he had imagined them, if they were just the desperate hope of his own heart. But when you pressed closer to him, trembling slightly as if you'd just revealed your deepest secret, he knew it was real.

He closed his eyes, tightening his hold on you, his arms wrapping more securely around your body. Gently, he pressed your head into the crook of his neck, holding you as though he could shield you from all the pain, all the heartache you had endured. He didn't say anything at first—he was too overwhelmed by the surge of emotions in his chest. Relief, sorrow, love... it all mingled together in a way that left him breathless.

And then, softly, he whispered into your hair, his voice hoarse with emotion, "I... I wish it could have been me too."

His confession was quiet, but it carried the weight of all the feelings he'd been holding back. For the first time, he allowed himself to admit it—to say aloud what he'd only been able to think. He had fallen in love with you. It wasn't just a passing infatuation or the admiration of a friend. It was love, deep and consuming, the kind that made it impossible to imagine his life without you in it.

"I... I'll make it better," his voice wavered, his grip tightening around you as if he was afraid to let go. "I'll take you away from all of this. I hate seeing you like this... suffering. You deserve so much more."

His words lingered in your mind, and fresh tears welled in your eyes—this time not from fear or sadness, but from a deep longing for a life that seemed impossible. "But how?" you whispered, your voice cracking. "The ninth prince... h-he's—"

At the mention of his brother, the fourth prince tensed, barely holding back the surge of anger that threatened to overwhelm him. He continued stroking your hair gently, his touch grounding you both. "Tell me," he said, his tone firm but soft, "everything he's done to you."

Fear flickered in your eyes, and you shook your head slightly. "B-but—"

"It's okay," he reassured you, his voice steady and full of conviction. "I'll protect you. You have my word, princess."

"Father, I have come to report wrongdoing," the fourth prince's voice rang out clearly across the throne room. His heart pounded in his chest, but his resolve never faltered. He had waited too long for this moment, and he wouldn't waste it. The King, seated on his grand throne, raised a surprised brow. His fourth son had never shown much interest in palace affairs before.

"Yes, my son. What is it?" he asked, his voice weary with expectation.

Yeosang took a deep breath, steeling himself. "It's Ninth Prince Yeochan. He has been mistreating his fiancée."

The elderly man sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as if this were a minor inconvenience. "Prince Yeosang, you know there are far more pressing matters in this kingdom than marital squabbles."

The prince's nostrils flared, his temper threatening to boil over. "Listen to me, Father! For once in your life, listen to me. You haven't heard a word I've said for the past 25 years, and I've had enough of it!"

The sharpness of his words silenced the king. He straightened in his seat, eyes narrowing as he studied his son.

Yeosang pressed on, desperation clinging to every syllable. "The princess... she's living in misery. Do you even know where your 'beloved' ninth son has placed her? She's not in some luxurious chamber—he's hidden her away in a miserable room like she's less than a servant! Did you know he's been denying her basic needs to manipulate her into submission? Have you any idea what he's—"

The King closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Marriages aren't all sunshine and rainbows. Especially not arranged ones. You're young, and I understand you're friends with the princess, but you also know how girls can exaggerate things. She'll be fine. They will work it out in time. You must see that this is all for the greater good of our nation."

His Highness clenched his fists tightly, the urge to shout rising within him. He had expected resistance, but this blatant dismissal enraged him. "Don't invalidate her feelings like that, Your Majesty... you just don't get it, do you?"

The ruler's gaze hardened. "What don't I get, Fourth Prince?"

Yeosang let out a bitter laugh, his voice dripping with frustration and scorn. "That you are part of the problem. How can you expect this kingdom to flourish when you don't even care about what happens within your own palace walls? What kind of king turns a blind eye to the suffering of his own people? To a foreign princess, no less, one who was supposed to be under our protection?" His eyes blazed with fury. "You always talk about the greater good, but it's never been about the people, has it? It's about your power. You think the end justifies the means, no matter who gets crushed along the way. What kind of noble king does that make you? Or should I say... what kind of useless king?"

The air in the throne room grew thick with tension, his words hanging heavy between them like an unsheathed blade.

Despite his initial irritation at the prince's boldness, His Majesty felt a surge of pride. Yeosang's passionate defence of the foreign princess was a clear sign of his growth and potential as a future ruler. His newfound affection and protectiveness toward you were a stark contrast to his past obsession with Lady Park. It was clear that he had finally moved on from the general's wife and was now focused on something—someone he truly loved.

Yet, the King also felt a pang of disappointment. Entrusting you to Prince Yeochan had been a grave mistake, and the realisation that you had suffered under his treatment made the ruler question his past decisions. He clasped his hands together, mulling over his son's words.

"Fair enough. What do you suggest I do then, Fourth Prince?" The elderly man's voice held a rare note of invitation, allowing Yeosang to propose a solution.

His Highness straightened, his resolve clear. "I understand how vital it is to maintain our relations with Ruhon. I'm not suggesting we break the peace treaty over the ninth prince's actions. Instead, I propose we reconsider the current arrangements."

The King almost smiled, entertained by his son's careful diplomacy. "Alright, so what then? Who else would the princess marry?"

The fourth prince's gaze didn't waver as he replied, "I put myself forward as a candidate. I'm confident I can give her the respect and care she deserves."

His Majesty chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Really? And does she agree with this arrangement?"

"Yes, she—" Yeosang froze for a moment, realising he'd revealed more than intended. But after a brief hesitation, he nodded.

The King's expression softened, his earlier irritation dissolving. "You're right, my son. If the princess' happiness is important for the stability of our nations, we must ensure she is well cared for."

Yeosang nodded, gratitude flooding through him as relief settled in. The King sighed, a glimmer of satisfaction lightening his burden.

"As for the ninth prince... I'll make sure he understands the consequences of his actions," the elderly man said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

The fourth prince's heart swelled with hope and determination. This was more than he had dared to wish for, and he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead—with you by his side.

His Majesty's smile slightly faltered as he watched the visible relief wash over his son. A heaviness settled in his chest. "But my son," he began, his voice quieter, more measured, "you have to prepare yourself for the potential talk that will spread about you... and the princess. This isn't going to be an easy or smooth process."

Yeosang met his father's gaze, his expression unwavering. "I understand, Father."

The ruler sighed, the weight of what was to come settling on him. He knew the whispers in the court would be brutal, the rumours relentless. The nobility had a way of twisting any situation, and there would undoubtedly be those who questioned the sudden change in marriage arrangements. There might be talk of favouritism or worse—of scandal.

But before he could voice more concerns, Yeosang's calm words broke the silence, further tugging at his father's heart. "Don’t worry, Father. It's nothing I'm not already used to. I've endured rumours and whispers all my life..." He paused, his expression hardening with determination. "But I won't let them touch her. I'll protect her, and I won't let anyone disrespect her again."

The King felt a surge of pride and sadness all at once. His son had indeed grown beyond what he'd expected, but the fact that he had carried so much weight for so long without ever seeking his father's help broke his heart. The King realised how much he had missed over the years, how distant he had allowed their relationship to become.

"You're a good man, Yeosang," the King said softly, his voice laced with both admiration and regret. "I wish I'd seen it sooner."

His Highness gave a small nod, his resolve as strong as ever, though the lingering pain in his eyes was unmistakable. "I'll do right by her, Father. That's all that matters now."

The King intertwined his fingers, watching his son with a mixture of pride and sorrow. The future of their kingdom—and the princess' happiness—now rested on this new path. He only hoped it would lead to a brighter future for both his son and the Ruhon princess.

"Wh-what are you doing here, Yeo? The ninth prince, he'll—" Your voice trembled with panic as you glanced nervously toward the door. But Yeosang only shook his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you into his embrace.

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His touch was warm and steady, a silent reassurance. "He won't be able to come near you again. I promise."

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and a group of palace staff entered. Their uniforms were pristine, and their faces composed, unfamiliar to you. Bowing deeply, they addressed both of you.

"These servants greet Fourth Prince Yeosang and Princess Sarisu. We have come to move the princess to her new chambers."

Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked up at Yeosang. "N-new chambers?"

One of the court ladies, an older woman with a warm smile, nodded eagerly. "Yes, Your Highness. Congratulations on your engagement! May the future Fourth Princess of Joseon live a thousand years!"

"F-fourth Princess...?" You stared in shock, barely able to process the words. Engagement? New chambers? The past few weeks of torment and isolation suddenly felt like a distant memory, replaced by this surreal moment of freedom. Yeosang grinned softly down at you, the light in his eyes unmistakable.

He nodded to the servants, giving them permission to start packing your belongings. Then, leaning down, he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I told you I'd take care of it, my soon-to-be wife."

The words sent a shiver through you, but this time it wasn't from fear or anxiety. It was a mix of disbelief and relief. Your heart raced as the palace staff began gathering your things, their movements efficient and respectful—a stark contrast to the way you had been treated before.

The rest of the day felt like a dream, as if the heavy weight that had been suffocating you for so long had finally lifted. You followed your new fiancé out of the quarters you had been forced to call home, stepping into the sunlight for the first time in what felt like forever.

Your gaze drifted, and that's when you saw him—Prince Yeochan. He stood several paces away, his face pale with disbelief as royal guards surrounded him and his servants. Officer Song led the group with his characteristic sternness, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

You overheard snippets of conversation, catching the words "interrogation" and "treatment of the princess." Your heart quickened. In Joseon, interrogations weren't handled lightly, especially when they involved royalty. You knew for a fact that the ninth prince and his servants were in for a rough time.

Yeosang's hand slid into yours, grounding you in the moment. His touch was steady, his presence comforting. He glanced at you with a soft smile, his eyes filled with quiet determination. "You’re safe now," he whispered.

As you walked away from the quarters, leaving the past behind, you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for the man beside you—the man who had promised to protect you and had kept that promise.

Thank you, my prince.

The following week felt like a fantasy you had never imagined could come true. Every moment with the fourth prince was filled with joy, love, and a sense of belonging you had never experienced before. He moved you to a chamber near his, ensuring you were never far from him. Every morning, he would come over, smiling warmly as he shared meals with you, and afterwards, he'd whisk you away to different spots in the palace, if you were not bonding with the Queen. There was always something new to show you, some hidden garden or scenic view you had never seen before.

On one of those magical days, Yeosang had even summoned a renowned dressmaker from outside the palace. Dressmaker Kim, known for his exquisite designs, came to you with endless fabrics and ideas, eager to create a new batch of hanboks that reflected your personal taste and style. Your fiancé had insisted that you not be restricted to the simple garments the palace provided. You deserved something beautiful, something uniquely you.

One sunny afternoon, as you stood together in the palace gardens, gazing at the cherry blossoms in full bloom, his arms wrapped around you from behind. His embrace was gentle but firm, the warmth of his body making you feel safe and loved.

"Our wedding's in a week, can you believe it?" he whispered softly against your ear.

You smiled, your heart fluttering at the thought. "I know, it feels like a dream."

He pressed his lips softly to your cheek, and you leaned into him, basking in the tenderness of the moment. "Is there anything else you want, my princess?" he asked, his voice low and full of affection.

Turning to face him, you cupped his face in your hands, your heart swelling with gratitude. "Enough, Yeo. You've given me more than enough for the past week."

But he shook his head, his gaze softening as he leaned in, resting his forehead gently against yours. "Not nearly enough," he murmured. "I do have one final surprise for you before the big day."

You frowned slightly, about to protest, but before you could speak, he silenced you with a kiss. It was tender, loving, and left you completely dazed. When he pulled away, his lips brushed lightly against yours, leaving you breathless.

"Don't reject me just yet," he whispered, his voice teasing but full of affection. "Go have a look and tell me how you like it. The surprise is waiting for you in your room."

Curiosity sparked within you, and though you tried to suppress it, excitement bloomed in your chest. What could he possibly have prepared now? You smiled up at him, already feeling that whatever it was, it would be another unforgettable moment.

And unforgettable it was.

He trailed behind your excited steps, heart swelling with anticipation as he followed you to your chambers. He stopped just outside, giving you enough privacy while still keeping the doors open. His eyes never left you as you entered the room, eager to see your reaction.

The moment you stepped inside, you froze in place. Your breath caught, and your vision blurred with tears before a sob escaped your lips. You couldn't believe what—no, who—was waiting for you.

"M-mother…" you choked, your voice thick with emotion.

Without hesitation, you rushed forward, falling into her arms. The warmth and familiarity of her embrace washed over you, the scent of home bringing back memories of a time when you felt safe. She held you tightly, her hand stroking your hair as you trembled in her embrace.

"I'm here now, my dear," your mother whispered, her own voice shaking with emotion. She sniffled, pressing her nose into your hair, her tears mingling with yours. "All thanks to my good son-in-law."

Her words broke through the haze of your emotions, and you glanced back toward the door. Your soon-to-be husband stood there, watching you from outside with a soft, tearful smile. He didn't step inside, allowing you this moment with your mother, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He had made this reunion possible. He had brought your family back to you.

Your mother's tearful smile reached Yeosang, and he dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. The silent gratitude exchanged between them warmed your heart even more.

A year ago, if anyone had told Yeosang he would find love, happiness, and purpose, he would've laughed bitterly, dismissing it as nothing more than a foolish dream. For so long, he had drifted through life, lost in the cold shadows of the palace, burdened by duty and the emptiness it brought. He had watched others find joy and love, believing it was something forever beyond his reach. But now, standing there, watching you fall into your mother's arms, he felt a wave of clarity wash over him. He's been wandering this earth alone, feeling lost for what seemed like an eternity...

Until I found you, my princess.

Aaaand, it's a wrap! God, I sincerely hope this was decent HAHA this ended up so much longer and darker than initially planned but oh well, it is what it is. I might consider doing one last bonus chapter for TWTHH, but we'll see~ you know what they say, there will only be supply if there's a demand🌚

If you've made it this far, thank you so very much for reading and staying with me throughout this entire journey! I look forward to hearing all your thoughts on the spinoff and this series! Which member's spinoff was your favourite and why? Let me know! <3

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Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Ahhhhh sorry for the late update (Daniella was swamped) but thank you for anticipating this story! I hope you like this and please reblog if you do! Also also also. Have u seen how handsome Seokjin in in every content he releases…I am unwell

Masterlist, Part VI of __

Jung Hoseok was looking at him with visible disgust in his face. The fucker did not even attempt to hide it as he watched his hyung drank another shot of alcohol.

See, he could have drunk alone but this particular mafia prince decided to disrupt their fairly peaceful dinner when he sauntered in with an expensive bottle of whiskey that could feed a community from the price alone. Their conversation was abruptly cutoff when he placed the bottle on the dining table with a thud before proceeding to pour the content in a glass, and then drinking straight from the bottle like the lunatic and eccentric man he was proving to be.

Suffice to say, he was starting to get concerned at his hyung’s actions. He was a man of manners, priding himself to always be in proper decorum and holding himself at such a high esteem. The way he had been for the past few days were anything but the man he claimed to be. It wasn’t only Hoseok who found this peculiar. Park Jimin was nibbling his lower lips in worry, a habit he had from his childhood and was not able to shake off until now.

The brothers, sans Yoongi who was declared missing and presumed dead, all watched as their oldest hyung ignored them and instead, focused on his drinking while actively glaring at his phone as though the silence was offending him.

“This is familiar,” Taehyung commented with his deadpanned voice and continued eating his steak like nothing was amiss, uncaring of whatever was happening outside his dinner he specifically requested from the chef because Seokjin was not in the mood to prepare their usual dinner. “This was you more than a year ago.”

Jungkook looked at knife Taehyung was using as a pointer with a pout. “I didn’t reach that level of patheticness, thank you very much!”

“He’s right, Taehyung-ah,” Namjoon butted in, his hand patted Jungkook’s back.

“Thank you, hyung-“

“He was worst.”

Kim Namjoon enjoyed chaos, it was apparent. He thrived in it, but his cool demeanor and his strictness made it seemed the opposite. The brothers knew better. He wasn’t the straight A student people perceived him to be. Nope, he was much worse with twisted sense of justice and humor.

It can be seen by the way he calmly sipped his wine, the corners of his mouth curling into a subtle smirk as Jungkook exploded and Taehyung dodged the chicken thrown his way. Hoseok, ever the pacifist, didn’t know where to focus his attention to: the two youngest bickering on his one side, or the oldest who had just opened yet another bottle of whisky and was drinking straight from the source as though he had a spare liver and was testing the limits of his current one.

On the other hand, Jimin was on the corner with his phone plastered on his ear. “Hello, bear? Where are you? Come pick me up, I’m scared-” He paused as he listened to the response on the other end. “Hello? Bear?”

“Fine! I’ll just join my favorite hyung!” Jungkook pointedly said as he neared Jin who quietly passed him a glass of whisky. “You’re my only brother now.”

Seokjin suddenly lunged at his phone the moment it dinged with an alert, only to suddenly curse at it much to the surprise of the brothers. The force from which he slammed his phone on the table caused the expensive dinnerware to fear for their lives. Jimin timidly picked up the phone he threw across the table and read the message aloud.

“Dear Doctor Kim Seokjin, I hope this email finds you well. We wanted to extend our heartfelt congratulations to you on your well-deserved nomination- what is this? Are you mad because your research is nominated for a nobel prize?”  Jimin turned to his hyung with a frown on his face. He swore his brothers were becoming weirder and weirder as the days passed by. He was the only sane one here, truly.

Of course, it was perfectly sane to threaten any man who came too close to his bear, Jimin reasoned to himself. Or that he purposefully got injured in assignments whenever he felt like her attention was straining away from him.

Seokjin nodded, grumpily resting his chin on his fist. His thick dark brows were pinched together as he cursed at the message. “Stupid awards.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in realization, “Ah, I get it now. You don’t want award, you want noona.”

This again, Hoseok thought. There was no way his hyung was acting this way because of a woman. He knew his hyung. He was disgusted by women and didn’t find them particularly interesting. In fact, he acted like they didn’t exist and Hoseok thought it was because of his mother. He waited for the denial that he was certain would come…until it didn’t.

Seokjin was silent. The man just literally sat there and drank his alcohol as though he had no plans to deny Jungkook’s ridiculous claim, much to Hoseok’s surprise.

“If you want her so bad, why don’t you apologize already?!” Jungkook shouted, shaking Jin’s shoulder. Ever the competitive one, he caught up to the volume of drink Seokjin intake and now it showed through his loud voice and sluggish movements.

“I already did, you idiot!”

“So she didn’t forgive you! Deserved!”

“As a matter of fact, she did!” Seokjin screamed back at the youngest, the vein in his neck protruding and his ears reddening.

“Then what is the problem, hyung?” Namjoon prompted, even he couldn’t make sense of why he was acting the way he did.

“She forgave me!”

“And that’s…the problem?” Hoseok asked with a tilt in his head.

“Yes!”

“Because?” Jimin prompted, sensing that Seokjin was struggling to articulate his feelings.

“I don’t just want her forgiveness-“

“And they said I was the different want who couldn’t differentiate one emotion from the other,” Taehyung said in a deadpanned manner.

“I realized I don’t want forgiveness. I want-“

“-Her?” Jungkook finished.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Seokjin immediately snapped; his voice was defensive but there was a telltale pause, a moment of hesitation that betrayed his true feelings. He continued, his voice rising with each word, as though he was trying to convince himself as much as the others. “I don’t want her forgiveness. I don’t want her to text me again. I don’t crave her attention. I don’t imagine us running towards each other in a field of flowers somewhere in Amsterdam. And I certainly don’t want her to be the mother of my children!” His voice broke with emotion, and with that final outburst, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving the others in stunned silence until the resounding slamming of several doors broke them out of their stupor.

---

You were deeply focused on your phone that you didn’t notice a certain someone standing in your way. You admitted that it was a bad habit of yours to be so utterly unaware of your surroundings nor the danger that it contained when you were thinking of something. It was later in the future when you discovered just how unsafe it was.

You certainly couldn’t have avoided bumping into him, but he could have– and yet, he actively chose not to. The collision could have been avoidable given the sparse amount of space around. It was five in the morning and the hospital lobby was not yet busy. Your pace was not even hurried and he was literally standing there and watching you with his dark eyes enter the hospital lobby. It wasn’t until you collided with his surprisingly broad chest did you notice him. You would’ve stumbled, maybe even fallen, if his hands hadn’t gripped your shoulders, steadying you.

“I’m so sor—” you began, but your words trailed off as your eyes landed on him. You had been expecting a stranger, but instead, you found yourself looking up at Kim Seokjin, someone you had seen not long ago (more than eight hours to be exact).

You blinked up at him, slightly dazed, as he looked down at you with something warm and unexplainable in his eyes. There was a subtle change in him, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t your concern anymore.

Not your monkey, and definitely no longer your circus.

You pulled away from him immediately. However, you noted that there was a hesitation in his touch before he let you go. It was brief and yet, you were sure it was there.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice smooth and calm. The corners of his mouth curled up in a faint smile, making his eyes twinkle with a touch of amusement.

“No, I should have been paying attention. My apologies, Doctor Kim,” you replied formally, drawing an invisible line between the two of you. Maybe if you did that, you could go back to the way things were before everything got so complicated. Right. It was just correct that you started acting professionally when it came to the Chief. He was, after all, your boss and you had embarrassed yourself enough. If you wanted that stellar recommendation, then you’d have to get your act straight.

You smiled at him and that was when he lost his. You bowed and proceeded to walk away from him, your attention back to your phone as though his presence could no longer affect you. There was something telling him that maybe it was true.

How could you just…brush him off like that?

How could you just go on while he was beating himself for pushing you away?

And how could you expect him to just accept what he found to be unacceptable?! He wasn’t Kim Seokjin, a trained Mafia prince, renowned doctor, billionaire, and the worldwide handsome for nothing.

“Ah!” he groaned dramatically clutching his chest where you had bumped into him, his voice echoing through the quiet hospital lobby. He made sure it was loud enough to grab the attention of everyone around him, including the staff. They immediately ran over to check on him, their eyes wide with concern.

You paused, frozen mid-step, feeling the eyes of the entire room shift toward Seokjin. You could sense it—theatrics. This was exactly the kind of scene you had wanted to avoid, but of course, Seokjin was never one to let things go quietly.

"Doctor Kim! Are you alright?" one nurse asked in a panic, while another was already dialing someone—probably a medic. Someone even was screaming emergency as more people gathered around him.

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to summon whatever patience you had left. He left you no choice. Had you leave, you would look like a bitch. Turning on your heel, you walked back to where Seokjin stood, still clutching his chest as if he were on the verge of collapse. His eyes met yours, sparkling mischievously despite the serious expression he tried to maintain.

“Really, Seokjin?” you muttered under your breath.

---

“Doctor Y/N, your negligence caused serious physical injury not only to anyone, but to our very own and beloved Doctor Kim!”

You flinched at the HR Department head before sneakily shooting Seokjin a hard glare. Seriously, he sent you to HR just because you bumped into him?! How petty could he be?

The answer to that was too petty.

Even petty couldn’t even begin to describe this!

Seated across from you, with an exaggerated pout, Seokjin held a warm compress to his chest as though nursing a life-threatening injury. Next to him sat the HR Department head, looking utterly serious.

"How are you feeling, Doctor Kim?" the HR head asked him, to which Seokjin gave a pathetic little whimper.

"I'm recovering," he replied, dramatically wincing as if your minor collision had left him grievously wounded.

You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to scream. This man is unbelievable! You weren’t just in HR because of a bump. You were in HR because Kim Seokjin wasn’t ready to let you go. Or was it his ego that couldn’t let go? You thought for sure that it was probably the latter.

“Did you even apologize, Doctor?” the HR head asked, her brow raised and eyes filled with judgment.

“Of course I did—” you began to explain, but before you could finish, Seokjin interrupted with a dramatic sigh, leaning further into his chair.

“It feels like she wasn’t even sorry,” he muttered, his voice dripping with exaggerated hurt.

Your jaw clenched, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. You shot him another glare, your patience wearing thin. “I literally apologized right after I bumped into you,” you protested, your voice tinged with frustration.

The HR head frowned, turning her disapproving gaze back to you. "Doctor Kim seems to think otherwise," she remarked.

Seokjin's lower lip jutted out in a pout as if your mild collision had ruined his entire week. He clutched the warm compress on his chest more theatrically, glancing at you with puppy-dog eyes.

This was so beyond ridiculous, but you had no choice but to play along for now. "I apologize again, Doctor Kim," you said stiffly, the words forced but necessary.

He shook his head slowly, “I don’t think I can function well this week…”

Of course, the HR head ate up his performance without hesitation. Her face twisted in concern as she asked, “How can we make this better, Doctor Kim?”

Seokjin didn’t miss a beat. He lifted his gaze toward you, looking up through his lashes with the faintest smirk hiding beneath his pout, as though he was plotting something.

You braced yourself.

“Well,” Seokjin began, his tone measured and sweet, “perhaps if Doctor Y/N could make amends...by spending a little more time making sure I’m alright. After all, accidents can have lingering effects,” he added, his voice a mixture of innocence and something else entirely.

Your patience snapped. “I bumped into you. You’re not a fragile vase!”

But he wasn’t going to let this go that easily, and judging by the look on the HR head’s face, you were stuck.

“Enough. Because of the inconvenience you caused to Doctor Kim, you are suspended for a week.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Suspended? For bumping into him? This couldn’t be happening. Your brain raced as you tried to process what had just been said, but all you could focus on was one fact—you couldn’t afford to be suspended. You literally couldn’t afford to lose a week’s salary.

Your crestfallen face almost made Seokjin stopped this act, but he couldn’t lose you. At least, not yet, he thought. Not until he figured out why his heart was fucking hurting when you weren’t around. Or why he was up all night because the thought of you leaving his life made him tossed and turned all night. Or why he was acting like a devious, Slytherin brat (something Jimin would surely was) just to keep you beside him.

“Or she could just assist me the entire month it’ll take me to recover-”

“Whole month?!” you repeated, dumbfounded at what your ex-crush was saying.

Seokjin’s eyes blinked innocently, as though he wasn’t pulling the strings of this ridiculous charade. “What?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, as if he didn’t understand the problem. “This way, you’ll get paid. Plus overtime. Plus premiums. Plus dinner with me everyday. What more can you ask?”

You stared at him, your jaw hanging open as you tried to process the audacity of his proposal. The way he smirked, leaning back slightly with a look of self-satisfied victory, only served to increase your frustration. This was outrageous, but somehow, you knew he was serious.

“Are you kidding me?” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t just—”

“Actually, I can,” Seokjin interrupted smoothly. “And I will. Unless you want to risk a suspension that you clearly can’t afford. It’s your choice.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. Seokjin had you cornered. He was offering a solution that, while absurd and humiliating, was far better than the alternative. And the way he leaned in, as if he was sharing a secret, made it clear that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well?” he prompted, still wearing that smug grin.

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️