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thedeerman · 11 months ago

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RadioApple Fic:

Do You Want To Know?

Ch4: Notice

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

TW for descriptions of PTSD symptoms.

Niffty wasn’t someone that paid a whole lot of attention to the dynamics between the individual members of the hotel. She scurried around sweeping floors and stabbing bugs most of the day, but always seemed to notice when something seemed amiss with Alastor. How could she not, with how long they've been bound together? She can’t pretend to know quite how his mind works, but when there’s a shift in his moods, it isn’t missed by the little angel killer.

And between Niffty’s keen eye and Shadow’s worried glances, she knew something was wrong. It wasn’t often that the two interacted directly, but they had their own way of communication, a lot like the way an old couple does. Looks, glares, shrugs. Glances when no one else is looking. Not even Alastor seemed to know of the odd relationship Niffty and Shadow shared.

And so it shouldn’t be surprising that Niffty started spending a little more time bug hunting in the general vicinity of the tall, red demon. And maybe doing a little bit more eavesdropping than usual. After all, she might be the only soul in the hotel that could go unnoticed by the radio demon. And what she started noticing was that Alastor and the bad boy king were fighting less and looking at each other more. It started a week or two after the new hotel was put together, and slowly, ever so slowly, it started looking like something else was starting to form. Not hatred, not quite a rivalry even. Niffty couldn’t place it. The little maid shrugged and went back the task at hand: stabbing little bugs and running about the building.

The morning started out like every other recent one for Lucifer. Open eyes, remember where he is, think of his daughter, think of Alastor. That last part was actually getting ridiculous, thank you very much. Coffee time, he thinks to himself as he rolls out of bed. And then, unexpectedly, I miss sharing my bed with someone. He shakes his head. His loneliness really can’t rear its ugly head this early in the day. As he stretches and yawns, he struggles to remember if he was scheduled to be doing something today. Charlie will let me know, he thinks. Snapping his fingers, he changes from his comfy apple patterned pajamas into his usual outfit and glances at himself in the mirror. He decides that maybe today he’ll shake it up a bit, but can’t quite decide on how. He almost gives up, but then has an idea. With a wave of his hand, his plain black bowtie transforms into one that's a deep blood red with black accents. He looks at himself in the mirror again and acknowledges that in all likeliness, no one will notice the change. But he smiles, thinking that it was nice just to change something for himself for once, not to look a certain way for someone else.

As Lucifer gets ready to leave his room, he remembers the envelope on his desk. He looks at it for a moment and thoughts of its recipient flood his mind. He rolls his eyes at himself and stuffs the letter in his pocket. Lifting his hand to open a portal downstairs, he paused. Maybe… I should walk. He thinks. Maybe I’ll run into… His thoughts immediately screech to a halt as there’s a knock on his door. He panics for a moment, wondering if his rogue thoughts really could summon the bastard. But then he hears “Dad! Are you up?” and relaxes. “One second honey!” he responds, taking one last look in the mirror before heading to the door.

Charlie’s surprise visit only took a moment, as she quickly explained that something important had come up and the morning meeting was canceled. Before Lucifer could respond to this, Charlie held out an envelope and piece of paper. “It’s your letter for the day, and the prompt for the next one. I already talked to the person who had your name, so I figured I could deliver it before I’m off! Oh! And do you have yours? I can make sure it gets to you know who on my way out!” Charlie’s smile always put Lucifer at ease, even with the mention of the demon that was always clouding his thoughts. He strode over to his desk to grab the letter he wrote and happily handed her his envelope for the day. “Oh! One last thing before I go- Please don’t forget to check the chore board for the day!” Ah yes, the chore board. Whenever Charlie was going to be out of the hotel for the day, she made sure to fill out a whiteboard with everyone’s tasks. He nodded, still smiling. “Of course. Anything for you, duckling.” With that, Charlie smiled and turned to go off and do whatever else it was she needed to get done before leaving.

Lucifer’s curiosity got the best of him and before he could even get back to his desk, he was tearing open the letter. Dropping the envelope on the floor next to the first one, he sat and read the letter.

“Name one thing that you’re curious about in regards to your person.”

One thing I am curious about is your absence throughout the day. Aside from scheduled meetings and chores, you almost always seem to be missing.

Lucifer’s face drops a bit. Could it be Husk? No, he didn’t seem like the type to make it so obvious, but then again… The fallen angel sat at his desk pondering for several minutes and thought about his recent interactions with the bartender. Remembering his drink. Listening to his woes. Those golden eyes drilling into his soul… Lucifer shook his head. I suppose it doesn’t really matter much either way. Then he looked at the paper for his next letter. His next letter to… Alastor… He’d spent the past couple of weeks doing everything in his power to avoid the radio demon, both physically and mentally. Thinking about him always led to unpleasant thoughts and feelings, so he would just shove it down and out of his mind whenever possible. But when he was forced to acknowledge the guy, there was just no denying his magnetic energy.

He looked at the paper in front of him. The new prompt reads “Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.” The devil groans. There are tons of things about Alastor that interest him. Everything from how he talks to how he slinks through the shadows to his talent on the piano that he’s only very briefly experienced but would honestly like to again and- UGH. Come on, Lucifer. This isn’t that hard. After a few more moments of being lost in his endless thoughts, he decides that this can wait until later. He remembered Charlie’s instruction to check the white board downstairs and opened up his portal, this time deciding for sure against walking, and stepped into the lobby.

Alastor’s night was long and restless. Images of his battle with Adam flashed in his mind one after another, and sitting in the dark and quiet of his room made it so much worse. There were no external stimuli to focus on to keep himself grounded. Instead, despite his best attempts, every time he closed his eyes, he saw Adam’s masked face again. The carelessness of his fighting style. That guitar/ax monstrosity. The blinding light that broke his staff, rendering him defenseless. The swing of the holy weapon that tore through his very being, sending him flying against a wall. Those terrible bright golden wings looming over his damaged body as he melted away into the shadows in his last effort to survive. That laugh. The buffoon’s last words before nearly taking Alastor out of existence may have just been a shitty remark, but for a terrifying moment, radio really was almost dead.

In the early morning hours, the restless demon decided sleep wasn’t worth the effort anymore and got out of bed. His never-failing smile was feeling a bit more strained than it should. He picked up his microphone staff, clutching it in his hands, again remembering the sensation of light tearing through the middle of it. The radio demon closed his eyes for a moment before putting a happy demon face on and snapping his fingers to change into his usual outfit. With that he melted into shadow and made his way down to the kitchen, where a certain mug desperately needed to be filled with hot, bitter, beautiful caffeine.

Before he can get there, however, he hears movement coming from the meeting room. He peers past the doorway to see that Charlie is scribbling names and chores on a board in a hurry. Alastor raised an eyebrow as he considered whether or not he should disturb the girl in the middle of her task, but then remembered his reason for heading to the kitchen to begin with. He continued down the hallway, this time walking instead of traveling through the shadows. After last night, he needed something to wake him up.

And something certainly did. It wasn’t the coffee, or the flurry of demons coming and going as they got breakfast or prepared for their day. It wasn’t the princess, first asking for his envelope from the day prior- to which he reached into a small portal to grab it from his desk- or even the second time she spoke to him a while later when she was on her way out and handed him the newly acquired envelope from his anonymous writer. At the time, he placed the envelope, and new prompt paper, into his coat pocket to bother with later on. But no, it was none of these small events that woke him up. It was an even smaller one. It was when he decided to check his assigned duty for the day. His eyes grew wide and his smile grew tense as he read the board two, three, four, five times just to make sure that he understood what he was seeing.

Unfortunately, his sleepless eyes were not deceiving him. The task itself wasn’t awful- Clearing out a room that had been being used as storage for various things and then redesigning the room in a new layout. The details were left in a folder pinned to the board with a magnet. Simple. Easy. A ONE person job. But no, of course dear Charlotte wouldn’t want any of them taking on too big of a project on their own… Alastor sighed. He may as well accept that the outlook of his day was not great. He took the folder containing the plans for the new room and his third mug of coffee to the lobby, where he waited for his majesty to arrive.

It wasn’t terribly long before the king made his appearance, opening a hole in the fabric of Hell and stepping through it into the hotel lobby. The radio demon watched, silently, as the king started towards the meeting room and the chore board. When he came back moments later, the king’s eyes scanned the lounge area until they landed on the radio demon. Waiting for him. Alastor noticed that the king’s demeanor seemed flustered all of a sudden, and tilted his head to a degree that wouldn’t have been possible were he alive. Lucifer sighed and slumped his shoulders (in acceptance?), as he started walking towards Alastor perched on his favorite chair.

Time to put on a show, the demon thinks to himself. His smile grew and his eyes widened as he made eye contact with the short king himself. Before he could stand, Lucifer held his hand out. Alastor glanced at his open palm and then back up at the angel standing before him. His glowing yellow eyes seem to pierce through his soul for just a moment before Lucifer finally says, “The folder?” Alastor blinks. Lucifer sighs and continues. “The folder with the plans that Charlie left? Mind if I take a moment to look it over?” Alastor blinked once more, feeling completely frozen. He expected the fallen angel to demand that he hand over the instructions and storm off to do the task himself, or at least give the sinner some sort of jab about his involvement being too much, or something, anything- “Uh, hello..?” Alastor is ripped from his thoughts as Lucifer speaks up again. “Why of course, your majesty!” The demon stands up, enjoying how much the king of hell himself had to tilt his head back just to look up at him. Alastor loved looking down at the king. Figuratively and literally.

After supplying Lucifer with the folder of notes, the radio demon started walking towards the room in question. The devil didn’t follow immediately, first looking over the papers left to them by his daughter. Eventually, Lucifer catches up and starts talking. Alastor struggled to keep his face from showing his disinterest in the words coming from the fallen angel’s mouth, and yet his mind fails to wander the way it usually does when he’s ignoring someone. His attention stays firmly in the present, on the voice of the angel walking beside him. The words meant nothing, but his voice was-

“Hey, are you even listening?” Alastor feels his ears perk up a bit at the angel’s tone. “Yes, of course, sire. How could I ever fail to acknowledge the royalty walking beside me? You have my full attention!” His response was heavily coated in sarcasm, but it wasn’t a lie. He was paying attention to Lucifer. Just not to the words coming from his mouth. Either way, he was listening more closely now after being called out. “So, as I was saying,” the king continued, “Charlie wants the hotel staff’s stuff on the third floor, in that room next to the elevator, so we should probably do that part first. The new guests are going to have to keep their things to what they can fit in their room so we can have this space open before we remodel.” He continued listing off the steps to finishing the task as smoothly as possible while Alastor continued walking in silence beside him.

Lucifer wasn’t exactly thrilled at being partnered up with the radio demon for this little task, but the faster they got it done, the faster Lucifer could stop forcing himself to keep his eyes off of one of the most interesting beings in the building. Why was that so hard? They worked without speaking at first, but Lucifer couldn’t get his mind off of today’s writing prompt. 'Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.' First of all, it hasn’t gone unnoticed that these prompts are phrased really weird. 'Your Person?' Who says that? Alastor was far from what the angel would call “his person.” Lucifer’s cheeks warm just a tad as he shakes the thoughts from his head. Secondly, he didn’t want to be interested in this guy, not one bit. And yet…

In the middle of his wandering thoughts, he noticed a slight movement from the corner of his eye. When he looked, what looked back was Alastor’s shadow. Lucifer scanned the room. Alastor himself had left a few moments ago, but his odd shadow thing remained. It smiled, and although it was creepy just like Alastor’s, it was also… Warm? Friendly? Lucifer had to admit, the ability to pick up on the intentions and emotions of beings around him was always useful when it came up. He couldn’t read most souls very easily, but for some reason this shadow was expressive enough to make itself clear, even without speaking or moving. Lucifer cocked his head just a bit and opened his mouth to say something, but before any words could come, the shadow frowned and fled out of the open door. In an instant, Lucifer was left alone in the room again. But now, his curiosity about the odd thing that followed Alastor around was at the forefront of his mind as he worked to sort through boxes of stored items. I’ve already mentioned his shadow, so maybe it wouldn’t be super weird to put that in today’s letter too…

Lucifer’s mind continued to wander further and further as he stood in the mostly empty room, briefly contemplating how to proceed with the task he was given. There were only a few things left that had to be removed from the room, so he used his magic to start gathering them up to move them. It was only after a floating box broke under the weight of whatever was in it that he realized, too late, that not all of the boxes were exactly… sturdy. He rolled his eyes and started gathering up the miscellaneous things that ended up on the floor. He was nearly done cleaning up his mess when something from the broken box caught his eye. A…radio? I wonder if it belongs to Alastor�� It was an older style, round on top and made of shiny reddish wood that felt beautifully smooth when Lucifer picked the object up. He flipped it around a few times to make sure nothing on it seemed damaged and went to place it back with the other objects from the box.

Of course, before he could get there, Alastor comes back into the room. Lucifer freezes momentarily, looking rapidly between the demon in the doorway and the radio in his hands. Shit shit shit “Uhh… It fell from a box, but it seems okay, uh, is- um, is it yours?” The demon didn't move at first, only his eyes fell down to the radio in the fallen angel’s hands. After a brutal second of nothing, Alastor speaks. “Well, it was mine, but it seems to have found a new owner.” Lucifer’s mouth falls open but fails to produce any words. The radio demon continues, “I have plenty of them, of course. I’d noticed that you’ve never mentioned my radio show, so I suppose you’ve been unable to listen, hmm?” Lucifer is still in shock. He’s definitely blushing. Why? Don’t ask him, he sure as fuck doesn’t know. But what he does know is that Alastor, Radio Demon Alastor, the batshit crazy asshole that seems to hate Lucifer with a passion, just offered him a gift. And not just any gift, a beautiful old fashioned radio, so he could listen to…

“Shall we move on to the next phase of this little project?” Alastor asks, as if he didn’t just shatter Lucifer’s understanding of him as a person. Why would he give him something, without asking anything in return… “No.” Lucifer frowns a bit at the radio in his hands. “You wouldn’t give me this without expecting something back.” The demon’s eyes opened a bit wider at the accusation. “What is it that you want from me?” Lucifer demands.

Alastor slowly steps into the room, towards Lucifer, never breaking eye contact. The angel does everything in his power not to step backwards, to hold his ground. This is going to end in another argument… At least another week in group therapy if I can’t keep my cool. He stands there, unmoving, until Alastor is only inches away. Please don’t turn this into a thing… Face to face, the two stared at each other for a very long moment. Too long of a moment. Just as Lucifer began to consider fleeing through a quick portal back to his room just to escape the sudden tension, Alastor put a small piece of paper in Lucifer’s hand, careful not to touch him directly. The demon never broke eye contact, not until he quickly turned and left the room.

Lucifer was left awestruck at what just happened. The whole exchange couldn’t have lasted longer than a minute, and yet it felt like it had been a full hour since picking up the old wooden radio. Breaking from his trance, he remembered to look at the paper in his hand. It was a… business card? In a delicate cursive font, it read “Tune in every evening at 4:30 for a broadcast with style” Under that was a number. A radio channel. It took a moment to sink in that this was one of the cards Alastor handed out to some of the guests as an invitation to tune in to his evening broadcast. He’s… Inviting me to listen to his show…? Lucifer wasn’t sure he would be interested in whatever it was Alastor considered to be a “broadcast with style,” but if he took the radio, it was an unspoken deal. He would be expected to listen at least once. He looked down at the device’s shiny surface, thinking of where in his room he could set it. Sighing, he accepted that this might not be a terrible thing. Hopefully it’ll at least help with these damn letters.

It’s some hours later when Alastor retires to his tower to prepare for the evening’s broadcast. He didn’t host a live talk show every night, more often than not his broadcasts were of his preferred music. Tonight, he was planning on throwing on some jazz tunes. Who didn’t like jazz? More importantly, he was also planning on leaving the tower during his show. He couldn’t help it, his curiosity had gotten the best of him. He had to know.

Earlier, when Alastor walked into the room he and Lucifer were tasked with organizing, he caught the fallen angel holding an old radio, looking over it with care, and the radio demon had an idea. His smile became manic, his eyes sharp. He slowly, menacingly, tried to back the startled king into a corner. But the angel would not budge. He trembled the tiniest bit, holding the radio close to his chest, his eyes widening as he waited for Alastor’s next move. The demon absolutely relished the look on Lucifer’s face. It wasn’t fear, no. That tremble was in… anticipation? Anticipation of what, he wondered? Another spat? Alastor didn’t have the energy today. Besides, he had much bigger ideas…

And now, at 4:45 in the evening, the first step of that plan was put into motion. He slipped through the halls in the shadows, thankfully not seen by anyone on the way. As he reached the other end of the hotel, he pondered what the best option was to go about this. He wanted to be discreet, he only needed to know if Lucifer had taken the bait. The demon sent his shadow ahead, into the king’s room.

Alastor made his way back to his own side of the building after getting the piece of information he needed. He didn’t bother snooping around this time, he’d wait for Lucifer to be out for that. His smile widened as he walked down the long hall back to his tower. He wondered how many terrible things he could put on the air right now, things that would rattle the king, make him wish he had never set foot here. No… Alastor thought. Wouldn’t be worth the effort… Just need to have patience. But right alongside the thoughts of how to get under Lucifer’s skin, how to make the king squirm under his gaze, there was another thought lingering. A thought that just kept repeating itself, over and over and over again. But unlike the more recent times these intruding thoughts had happened, this wasn’t one of fear or panic or death. It was two simple words. Words that meant nothing. Words he shouldn’t even bother acknowledging. But his mind was far from under his control, and the radio demon’s smile slightly fell into a look of annoyance as he allowed the thought to be heard. He’s listening.

Back in his tower, he decided to turn his attention to the letter in his pocket. He had completely forgotten about it in his exhausted early morning state. Alastor removed the letter in the same fashion that he did the day before, once again burning the envelope into a pile of ash as he watched. Opening the folded letter, he read the words on the paper before him.

“Name one thing that you’re curious about in regards to your person”

Alastor,

One thing I’m curious about is your shadow. Is it a part of you? Its own being? Does it make its own choices? Does it have a name?

The demon’s face doesn’t give away his irritation, but the shadow notices nonetheless. It looks over his shoulder, reading the letter. Alastor brushes the entity aside, giving it a clear warning glare. The shadow frowned and settled on the floor, unwilling to further upset its master. Why would anyone be curious about this…thing? It was a tool. No more, no less. Of course it doesn't have a name. Alastor paused, imagining all of his possessions being named. His microphone? Coat? Coffee mug? Ah yes, perhaps they ALL deserve a title! The demon chuckled to himself at the thought. The questions in the letter do make Alastor think for a moment, however. The shadow wasn’t him, but it wasn’t not him. And it did make some choices without direct orders. Maybe it was a tad more than a tool. Perhaps it was more like an extra limb that sometimes had a mind of its own. Yes, that was more accurate.

After deciding on that, Alastor turns to the day’s letter prompt. It reads, “Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.” His eyes close for a moment. This shouldn’t be entirely difficult. It would be easy to throw a couple of insults in there as well for good measure. The demon calmly listened to the jazz song playing on his show, glad for some quality music as background noise. He spent several minutes there, leaning back in his desk chair with his eyes closed. He was tired, but not tired enough to fall asleep. He sat there, without a single violent thought, thinking of the angel living on the other side of the hotel. Alastor let his mind wander farther than usual. He let his mind wander towards Lucifer.

His power. His potential. His sudden, (previously absent) dedication to the hotel and his daughter. Ah, yes. That’s a good one for the letter, the demon thought. What else? His likely struggle with being tall enough to ride any of the rollercoasters at his flashy little theme park? Ha, he’s just so small! The demon laughed to himself quietly, thinking of his many ‘short king’ jokes. Such a tiny thing. And without that ridiculous hat it’s even more noticeable. He thought for a moment about being so close to the king earlier today, when he tried to intimidate him into backing away and failed. The way the angel had to arch his neck just to look up at him, their absolutely ridiculous height difference making it impossible for the demon not to look down at him. It was amusing, that’s for sure. But as Alastor’s mind continues to wander, he wonders how else he could manage to get close enough to the tiny king to get to look down on him like that again…

Alastor’s eyes shot wide open. He wanted to hit himself. What the fuck? He could attempt to lie to himself, say that his desire was a simple manifestation of his need to be the most dominant energy in the room. And in some ways, it was. But there was more. More that Alastor just could not figure out. Why was he planning to be around him again? He needed to get this letter done and over with and move on with his evening.

“Name three interesting things you’ve noticed about your person.”

Alastor sighs as he gives in to his frustration and starts writing whatever he can come up with.

On the other side of the hotel, Lucifer fought with the very same piece of paper, barely managing to put the thing together before bed. He attempted to do it earlier while listening to some music, but… Let’s be fair, Alastor’s radio show was distracting! It was… surprisingly nice. Lucifer kept waiting for the calming music to stop and the strange, demonic talk show to start, but it never did. Instead, he slowly drifted to sleep only 30 minutes in.

Lucifer awoke later that night, having missed dinner by at least an hour. He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, reaching for the radio now playing nothing but static. After turning it off, he once again remembered that he hadn’t yet completed his daughter’s assignment. Turning to the empty page again, he begins to write.

Chapter five below!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #fanfic #mine #do you want to know

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solaneceae · 1 year ago

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【 𝙿 𝚁 𝙾 𝙹 𝙴 𝙲 𝚃 : 𝙳 𝚄 𝙲 𝙺 𝙻 𝙸 𝙽 𝙶 】 | a QSMP Baghera playlist 🐤

a narrative playlist retracing her story, from her humble origins to Purgatory.

cover art by @Rion_Riots on twitter

⤵️ tracklist under the cut ⤵️

CHAPTER 1: lab rat

a duckling opens her eyes to white tiles and syringes.

Bumblebees are Out - Jack Stauber

A Bird in a Gilded Cage - Alex Niedt

Body - Mother Mother

rises the moon - liana flores

CHAPTER 2: Duckling and Bluebird

a bond is formed between two birds of a feather.

Rule #4 Fish in a Birdcage - Fish in a Birdcage

Two Birds - Regina Spektor

Evelyn Evelyn - Evelyn Evelyn

Innocence - Madeon

CHAPTER 3: escape!

this little duckling has had enough.

Escapism - Rebecca Sugar

THE KID WHO KEPT RUNNING - Vylet Pony

Shelter - Porter Robinson

We'll Meet Again - The Ink Spots

CHAPTER 4: drifting away

the ocean waves are tall and scary, but she presses on.

Weird Fishes/Arpeggi - Radiohead

Ship in a Bottle - fin

Shackleton - Adam Young

soundscape diary - vylet pony

CHAPTER 5: a new life of music and dirt fountains

she finds new friends. and slowly, she forgets.

Youth - Daughter

Tout Oublier - Angèle

La veriter - KronoMuzik

I Say - Zerator & BagheraJones

CHAPTER 6: [[We Hope You Enjoy The Island :) ]]

you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?)

Fallen Down - Toby Fox

Amnesia was Her Name - Lemon Demon

HEAVEN SAYS. - chart

Clocks - Alex Niedt

CHAPTER 7: binary green and white bears

federation? codes? where am i?

Your Best Friend - Toby Fox

Beware The Friendly Stranger - Boards of Canada

01001010 01000001 01001101 - Red Skies Project

Untrust Us - Crystal Castles

CHAPTER 8: cherished egg

the island has granted me the gift of motherhood.

Daughter - Sleeping at Last

I'm a Survivor - Reba McEntire

Apple Pies and Butterflies - Blue Wednesday

Little Moth - chloe moriondo

CHAPTER 9: petit frère

APLUPLUUUUUU

Anything You Can Do - Bernadette Peters, Tom Wopat

Amor de irmão - Barão Vermelho

Brother - Kodaline

For Forever - Ben Platt

CHAPTER 10: can I call you Bébou?

(gifting furniture is his love language.)

Lemon Boy - Cavetown

Demons Are a Girl's Best Friend - Powerwolf

It's Alright - Mother Mother

Chateau - Angus & Julia Stone

CHAPTER 11: ordo theoritas

call her apollo, because her theories ALWAYS turn out correct.

Cry Babies - cclorox

Touch-Tone Telephone - Lemon Demon

Dream Sweet in Sea Major - Miracle Musical

A Good Song Never Dies - Saint Motel

CHAPTER 12: don't you want to become a leader?

the election arc.

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A - Toby Fox

Blood // Water - grandson (first death: whale)

14.3 Billion Years - Outer Wilds (second death: the tower)

Brutus - The Buttress

Animal Farm - BIBI

CHAPTER 13: There is no escape this time.

a childhood bedroom hidden beneath engine steam.

Everything Stays - Rebecca Sugar

715 - CREEKS - The Nor'easter

Memories - The Midnight

Look who's Inside Again - Bo Burnam

CHAPTER 14: "Pomme reviens... les gosses me manquent."

she waits for things to change. she seeks her origins.

Dear Wormwood - The Oh Hellos

CRT Days - Waveshaper

Implanted Memories - Infinity Frequencies

What Was I Made For? - Billie Eilish

CHAPTER 15A: P U R G A T 👁️‍🗨️ R Y part I

i don't want to leave. i can finally be myself, here.

Wonderland - Caravan Palace

Misery Meat - Sodikken

Hayloft II - Mother Mother

Chainsaw Girl - Chainsaw Girl

Family - Mother Mother

CHAPTER 15B: P U R G A T 👁️‍🗨️ R Y part II

adios, bolas. i won't leave without her.

Idioteque - Radiohead

Eat Your Young - Hozier

My Friends - Oh Wonder

Goodbye - Bo Burnham

On the Nature of Daylight - Max Richter

#qsmp #baghera jones #qsmp baghera #qsmpfanart #baghera #Spotify

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rats-n-runespoors · 2 months ago

Note

Sorry for that but...

in the Cowboy AU, what horses are your MCs riding on?

My inner horse girl is woke now, so I hope I don't annoy you.

But look, I have an apple for you...🍏

HEEHEE DONT WORRY IM ALWAYS HAPPY TO ANSWER QUESTIONS (especially if they're horse related)

the simple answer is they ride my irl horses LOL

Celestia:

this is Cisco, an appaloosa we rescued back in september (this pic is old, he's put on a lot more weight since then) he's kind of a butt but he's really pretty so he gets a pass

Chayton:

this is Blaze, a saddlebred (?). he's really dumb. not smart at all. the amish took his last brain cell. i call him a bonehead and that's the only thing he will respond to besides the sound of his feed bucket. he was rescued alongside cisco. he doesn't stay still long enough for me to get a good picture, but he has a very long surfer-dude mane (it's also some kind of weird middle part so it looks shorter from this angle)

Freyja:

this is summer!! my infant daughter i love her so much (we are the same age). i think she's a quarter horse mixed with something else. she only likes it when i ride her but freyja and i weigh the same so i think she'll live. she knows she's a pretty girl and WILL get head scratches from you

Odie:

this is Tuff! i have no idea what breed he is i totally forgot (i think a saddlebred but don't quote me on that). odie gets tuff because im a. out of horses to hand out and b. they are both tall and weird and just want to sunbathe <3 big boy over here is 17 hands (i managed to mount him unassisted one time) he's very sweet and soft and lets me sit with him when he lays down

OKAY IM DONE YAPPING ABOUT MY BABIES

#i love talking about my pets they are my best friends ever #in another life my mcs would get lippizanners akhal tekes gypsy vanners or mongolian horses but i can't let them be TOO special #chayton duffey #freyja lyeland #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #celestia silverberry #odelia o'hagan #horses #i love my creatures #hogwarts legacy oc

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1donoow · 2 years ago

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VIDEO GAME REC

PT.2

......

♡ - smut

Most of them are fluff

......

<a/n>i somewhat explain why there's alot in my pin post

The last of us [joel miller]

call of duty [simon riley][könig]

————THE LAST OF US————

Joel miller

@damn-stark - tragedy at the millers masterlist

@hottpinkpenguin - the way of winter ch.3

@lil4chry - joel as a father figure hc

@ecilpwzee - the beginning of the end of the world

@whiskeypascals - soup and long drives

@strgrlxox - headcanon

@tlouslut - protective joel headcannon

@rayslittlekitten - grumpy old man

@bubbles-for-all-of-us - cold as ice

- a helping hand

- cutting joel's hair

@soulofapatrick - your world hasn't stopped

@j0elmill3r - the last of the real ones (adopted daughter!reader)

- roles reverse (daughter!reader)

- career day

@quin-ns - matchmaker

@foli-vora - once again in your arms

@just-some-random-blogger - go walk

@ohraicodoll - violent delights

- daisies

@guess-my-next-obsession - out of my depth

@morningbluebell - relaxed around you

@cowgurrrl - she's a gun

@lokischocolatefountain - if your daughter needs a void ch.1

@alt-vera - cigarettes out the window

@jobean12-blog - game on

@rrickgrrimes8 - your bear

@finnsbubblegum - where it all starts

@swiftispunk - say it with your hands ♡(masseuse!reader)

———— CALL OF DUTY ————

Simon 'ghost' riley

@circe69 - doing simon's eyeliner

@gh0stlyfixation - five reasons you've cried while pregnant

@bubble-dream-inc - a apple a day (medic!reader)

- under your skin (tattoo artist!reader)

@allthelovefromstylesxx - scary dog privilege

@hina-hina - ghost buying a guard dog and reader spoiling it

@kioplama - favorite person

- koala hug

- calling simon cute

@erosology - I'll stay

@a-sibyl - come stay awhile pt.1

@bakgoktski - ___

@yjhariani - thank you for trying

@bloodonmyhands-1221 - kindergarten troubles pt.2

@blackssuunn - eyelashes

- flowers

- scars and all

@vcnillazelda - tattoos

@rileyslibrary - interrogation techniques

- invincible

- roger that

@theredharpy - cuts & bruises

@humanalien01 - streamer

- giggles

@skelnexswriting - tattoos and markers

@poquiii - touch-starved (ghost,könig)

- you have terrible memory (ghost,könig)

———————————————————————

könig

@zvdvdlvr - dating könig hc

@placeinthemiddleofnowhere - keep moving forward

@wxnheart - just kingly things pt.1 pt.2

@the-book-gnome - distraction ♡

@altbite - you're kinda cool (alternative!reader)

@sprout-fics - little mouse masterlist

@antigonusyuki -general hc of konig being in a relationship

@skelnexswriting - tall enough

#masterlist #video game rec #joel miller x reader #simon riley x reader #könig x reader

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myhauntedsalem · 2 years ago

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ERRIFIED PARENTS SHARE CREEPY THINGS THEIR KIDS SAY

My daughter said that there was a man hanging from our washing line, and when we went to look she said ‘It’s okay, he’s buried in the ground now’ she was about two and a half’.

Me: ‘Who’s the night night man?’ Her: ‘The night night man lives in our kitchen’.

“I work in childcare. A child once woke up from a nap, looked me dead in the eyes and quite plainly said ‘Everybody hates you.’”

“My friend used to volunteer at her mum’s primary school (ages 5 or 6 I think) and one time a little girl tripped on the playground. My friend took her inside and gave her a plaster for her knee and said kindly ‘Because you’ve been so brave, you can have your snack early. What would you like?’ The kid stops crying immediately, looks her dead in the eye and says ‘a rotten apple.’”

“I had a 4-year-old that I had never met run up to me very excited and say ‘I remember you from when I was big!’ I don’t believe in anything like that, but this kid was very sincere and refused to leave my side the entire visit.”

“My son once said to me. ‘I’m going to marry mommy when you die’. I said ‘alright, good night its bedtime’. He said ‘no Daddy, not good night, good bye‘. I slept with the door locked and one eye open that night.”

“Not to me but to my mother. I had a little brother who was blind by age 3 and had a brain tumor. My mother was feeding him oatmeal in the morning. He stopped and said ‘Aunt Mariam is here’ and pointed toward my mother’s bedroom. ‘She’s here for me.’ My brother never met Aunt Mariam, she passed away the year he was born. He asked to be laid on my mom’s bed and closed his eyes and passed away.” 8, “I lost my mom to a rare cancer when I was 8 months pregnant with my daughter.. (she is now almost 4). Last week while making breakfast she was just babbling about nothing and randomly said ‘your mom doesn’t scare me’ and then just kept talking about her ponies and what have you. It REALLY caught me off guard.”

“My cousin who was about four or five at the time looked at me dead in the eyes and said ‘I’m a baby just like Satan was!’ “ 10.“I was dressing my then 3yr old in his bedroom when he turned to me and said ‘mummy can you close the curtains, the little boy and girl are scaring me’ I asked ‘what little boy and girl?’ ‘The ones outside my window that watch us’. Safe to say the curtains stayed closed.”

“When my brother was little he acted like he had angels talking to him every second. One day my mom overheard him say, ‘I can’t kill him! He’s my only dad!'”

“When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend stuff. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when dead girl goes all black eyed. Far from being disturbed she said ‘That looks like Kelly.’ ‘Kelly who?’ we say. ‘You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.’

“My little brother’s imaginary friend, Roger, lived under our coffee table. Roger had a wife and 9 kids. Roger and his family lived peacefully alongside us for three years. One day, my little brother announced that Roger wouldn’t be around anymore, since he shot and killed him and his whole family. I don’t know if he remembers any of this, but his genuine lack of remorse was very disturbing.”

My brother had an invisible friend named Tony Rygel. He was 6 inches tall and was elderly. One day we found my brother crying in his room. Apparently Tony Rygel had passed away in his sleep. We buried him in a shoe box in the backyard. So basically we had a funeral, complete with a moment of silence, for an empty shoebox.

“I was seventeen and babysitting a friend of the family’s six year old. He’d been in bed a couple of hours and I just peeked in to check on him. He wasn’t in the bed and when I opened the door wider, I saw he was standing in the corner, facing the wall. Creepiest thing ever. I asked him what he was doing and all he did was turn around, smile, and put his finger to his lips as if to say ‘shhh.’ i asked him again what he was doing and all he says is, ‘leave us. it is the punishment.’

#scary things that kids say #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

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bvidzsoo · 7 months ago

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Take Control

◎ Mafia!Yeosang ◎

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female reader

∞ Warning: weapons, mild stalking, illegal activities ∞ Word count: 4k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, thug reader!au, partners!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: You grew up with a father who meddled with mafias and thugs, always endangering you. But when you move to Seoul you decide to take your life into your own hands and leave your father behind. It just so happens Kang Yeosang knows of this, will he help you?

∞ A/N: Hello lovelies, I had to quickly write something before I go away for two weeks, I'm already struggling not having been able to write much this week ugh I can't imagine how I'll feel not being able to write for two weeks. Anyways, Yeosang's part is here and I hope you like it! Next I will be posting Mingi's and then last San's ^^ Let me know what you thought of this little drabble! I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

◎ Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥ Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥

I had never done something just for myself. I couldn’t recall a time when whatever I was obliged to do came from the depth of my heart, was sincere, and was my wish. No, I had always tried to please others, to be good, and satisfy the needs of others. That’s just who I was, or perhaps, that’s how my father raised me so that he’d have someone he could walk all over, someone who would fix his mistakes and come to his aid like the good daughter I was. But I was fed up and had been for a while now with how the money kept disappearing from the little box I kept under my bed for dire situations, or for when my father failed to provide for us. Somebody had to pay the bills and of course, it was me. I never complained, I never talked back, I never gave him trouble, yet I was never enough. He hated that I wasn’t a guy, that I wasn’t tall, muscular, and strong, that he couldn’t send me out to beat up people and rob them, or that he couldn’t train me to become a boxer in illegal rings. Nothing was actually my fault, but my father certainly knew how to make me feel bad for even as much as for existing.

I missed my mother, not that I could remember much of her, she died when I was young, but I knew she was a good woman. Sometimes I can still recall her warm caress and her heartfelt laughter, her apple pie, and the twinkle in her blue eyes. She wasn’t from around here, she was a foreigner and it drove my father’s family away from us, they didn’t want an outsider to marry into the family but my father didn’t care. Now, even when she was long gone, the family still didn’t want to have anything to do with him, for different reasons this time around. He was mixed up in illegal things, he smuggled drugs around the country and laundered money whenever he was in the mood. Most people knew of this, he wasn’t good at keeping secrets nor was he a humble man. He gloated about it as much as he could, and he was careless and greedy, hence why we often had to move from town to town to bigger cities where we were easier invisible. That’s why we came to Seoul in the first place, to blend into the masses and expand our ‘business’.

Which, in some way, we had succeeded in doing. My father’s business was flourishing like never before and we had more money than I knew what to do with, however, that meant one thing. My father was doing something illegal illegal, and that was never good. It brought bad news and more danger than what we were used to. I didn’t have a good feeling about this, but he wouldn’t listen to me—he never did. However, being here in Seoul opened up new doors for me too. I could finally go to a good school and continue my studies. I had been interested in architecture my whole life and I was beyond ecstatic when the university I applied to welcomed me with open arms. It was a nice change of scenery to be surrounded by intellectual people who have bright aspirations and a shot at a good future. It felt nice to be away from the grim and dangerous people who held weapons in their pockets and killed you if you looked at them the wrong way. But nothing good lasted for too long, that I came to learn at a young age—probably when my mother died from illness—and so when the first signs of something being wrong after a year of us having moved to the big city showed, I knew my father did something bad. Something really bad.

It was him suggesting that I look for a well-paying job that tipped me off that something must’ve gone awry, and the fact that he started inquiring about the fees my university had—something he hadn’t even cared about more than half a year ago. So, I knew I had to brace myself for a change, but I found it hard to do that. I didn’t want to move away—run away, better said—from Seoul, from the city that had so much to offer to me. I didn’t want to drop out of university as I was finally doing something I liked, I knew I could change my life if I just decided to leave my father behind. And that’s what I had been planning to do for two months now as I was looking for cheap flats to live in—hopefully in a relatively good area—as well as handing in my resume to multiple businesses which were hiring. I couldn’t tell him just yet that I wasn’t going with him if he had to run, I had to make sure that I had everything under my control first.

The friends I had made here were understanding and oblivious to the horrors my father did, and when I voiced the want to move out on my own they were eager to help, to even let me live with them until I found something suitable. I didn’t want to lie to them, but I found it easier to hide the truth from them, less troublesome for myself as I knew they’d judge me for my past—it wouldn’t be the first time it happened. All they had to know about me was that I came from a small town and lost my mother at a young age, that my relationship with my father wasn’t the best, and that we moved to Seoul because he got a better job offer here, and that now I was finally ready to take the reigns of my own life into my hands. And it was true, I was more than ready, I craved it more than anything. I wanted to be happy, to be free, not to be so scared of people around me anymore and doubtful of their intentions toward me.

So when one evening I was going home, my heart beating fast from having to climb the hill as our house was on top of it, I couldn’t help but notice someone in the shadows behind me. No matter how many times I turned and looked behind me, even hid between two buildings thinking it would lure my follower out, nobody showed their face. Whoever was following me knew how to play hide and seek well and they stayed out of sight even when I made it hard for them. I could only applaud their skills, but that meant they weren’t here to play around, they meant serious business and danger. When I questioned my father later that night if he had gotten into trouble, he just told me to mind my own business and find a job because he wouldn’t pay my university fees anymore, thus, I knew. He had done something he shouldn’t have done.

Whoever followed me that night never showed up again, I stayed vigilant but never came across them, so I could only hope my father had taken care of whatever bullshit he got himself into again. I found a job close to my university at a coffee shop as a barista and social media manager, and if I saved up I could pay the fees for my university without trouble. I had enough money deposited in my bank account—without my father’s knowledge, of course—that I finally felt like things were going my way. Nothing was set in stone yet, I still haven’t found a flat, but my father stopped being so stressed out and even apologized for his behavior—which was new, he hadn’t done that before. But perhaps we let our guards down too soon, the issue at hand apparently not solved at all when my father came barging inside our house last night all bloodied up, holding a handkerchief to the side of his head as he hissed and trudged to the bathroom. I followed after him and got the medical kit for him as he rinsed the blood out of his hair, hissing and cursing at every second word that left his lips. He looked beyond mad, his lips were busted open and the gun was missing from its holster.

I was too afraid to speak up as I handed him disinfectant and gauze to clean his own wounds, but my heart raced fast in my chest. If we were in danger again, I would have to get out while it wasn’t too late. I had to know what was going on, he couldn’t keep me in the dark any longer, “What happened to you, father?”

He said nothing as his jaw clenched when the disinfectant touched his open wound, eyebrows furrowing in a deep frown. He looked at me through the mirror, our face shapes were different but our eyes were the same. I was a balanced mixture of my mother and father, my blue eyes the most prominent tale-tell that I was mixed.

“Don’t worry about it.” My father’s gruff voice was harsh and I bit my lip knowing that I had to insist.

“Are we in danger?” I couldn’t help but let the questions tumble past my lips, “Do we have to move again?”

“No.” My father snapped and then faced me, his glare deep as he looked down at me, “I have to take care of some loose ties and then we’re good. We are not leaving Seoul, ever.”

I could release a sigh of relief for once, nodding at him as I handed him some ointment and a clean gauze, “I don’t want to leave this place.”

My father grunted in response and then faced the mirror again to take care of the wound on the side of his head. His next words surprised me, but the harsh tone told me not to ask anything else, “You should quit your job at the coffee shop and lay low for a while, I can help out with money if that’s the issue.”

I wanted to tell him I started working again because he told me to do so, but I bit my tongue and kept the words to myself, not wanting to anger him more. He already looked mad enough to break something, and I bowed my head before I retreated to my room, breath shaky as I closed my door. The air was stale inside my room and despite it being cold outside, it felt like I was suffocating, so I propped the window open and leaned my head outside, eyes closing as I inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly, smog fogging my vision for a second as I opened my eyes. The chill of the night was nice against my parched throat and I licked my chapped lips as I looked down the street, the lampposts illuminating it just enough to cast shadows left and right. However, what caught my eye wasn’t the shadow of a building, tree, or bench, it was the unmistakable shadow of a silhouette. I gulped as my eyebrows furrowed, suddenly feeling like prey as I stared at the hiding person in a dark corner of the street. I knew they were watching me as I felt their eyes on me, and I couldn’t help but notice the glint of their gun as they swirled around and walked off leisurely down the street, their attire all-black and hair a honey brown that looked red under the right lightning. We weren’t safe here anymore.

But a few months passed without another incident like that and I decided not to quit my job as the paycheck was good and helped me find a small apartment close to the heart of the city. I yet had to break the news to my father but he was rarely home now, so I didn’t know when or how to let him know. I thought of bringing my friend with me, Junmyeon, but then I would have to explain too much to him and I was afraid I’d let the truth slip. I didn’t want to lose our close friendship and I was afraid of being judged by the only person who was pure and seemed to find me innocent and good-hearted.

Today had been busy at the coffee shop and I barely had a moment to sit down and just breathe, but when my co-worker finally came and joined me, I had a moment for myself. I quickly ate and splashed some water on my face to freshen up, then redid my bun and I was back at the front, smiling and being polite to our customers. I was in the midst of taking an order when there seemed to be a commotion further up in the line. A woman’s voice seemed to rise second by second and I could make out that she was accusing someone of cutting in front of her while she stepped out to take a phone call. Before me or my co-worker could step in, the man who was two people ahead of them spoke up and told her that she could take his place if this was such a big issue for her. Silence fell over the arguing customers and the woman went back to her initial spot as the one who had taken it apologized and gave it back to her. My co-worker and I shared a glance before we went back to working quickly on the orders.

As I went to take the next one, I was taken aback by the man’s natural beauty on the other side of the counter, his smile gentle and eyes warm. Clearing my throat and putting on my usual smile, I greeted him with the coffee shop’s motto and asked for his order.

“An Iced Americano would be nice, please, Y/N.” I froze as he spoke my name, eyebrows furrowing as I slowly looked up at him, my heart rate slowly picking up. How did he know my name? I never introduced myself. Seeing my frozen state he giggled in embarrassment and pointed at something on my t-shirt, “Sorry, I must have surprised you.”

When I looked down I realized he was pointing at my nametag. It was my turn to be embarrassed as I chuckled and shook my head, typing in how much he had to pay as I lowered my head, “I apologize, I’ve had a long day, I forgot I have a nametag.”

The handsome man chuckled and I stole a glance at him, still taken aback by his gentle beauty. He was tall but not to the point he’d be looming over you and his build was firm but not too muscular. His honey-brown hair was rich and fluffy as it fell in waves against his head, and I could swear it almost had a red tinge to it under the right lightning. He wore only black and a leather jacket over his turtleneck, and I noticed a silver ring on his middle finger with the infinity carved into it. It looked pretty, just like the man.

“My name is Yeosang.” He introduced himself as he paid for his coffee, grinning, “Now it’s not weird anymore that I know your name.”

I chuckled and nodded as I went to prepare his order, stealing another glance at him just as he ran his fingers through his hair, exposing the discoloration at his temple—the skin was red and formed an almost heart-like shape. This Yeosang guy was dashingly handsome with a gentle smile and warm glint in his eyes, he made me feel instantly safe and protected. I rarely come across a man who doesn’t instantly send off warning signals in my head, making me wary of them. But not Yeosang, he seemed kind and inoffensive.

“Here’s your order, Yeosang.” I tried not to blush as our fingers brushed against each other when I handed him his coffee, and Yeosang hummed, his eyes narrowing just a little. Tingles traveled through my nerves as Yeosang and I bid each other goodbye, leaving me hopeful that he felt the same tingles as I did when we touched. Perhaps he’d return to the coffee shop, and then return again and again.

My day had finally come to an end as my co-worker and I locked up, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he blabbered on about an exam he failed and now had to pay for tuition because he realized he hadn’t gotten the hang of the subject. It was funny listening to him talk, he was still eighteen and he thought he was the hottest shit in the city. Well, everyone was like that at that age, and I could only hope he would mature over time. When we bid goodbye and agreed to meet tomorrow a little earlier than our shift to stop by the library as we both needed books for our courses, I decided to take the shorter route home tonight as I was rather spent and didn’t have the energy to wait for a bus and climb not only the hill but the never-ending stairs as well.

The alleyway was darker than usual but it had nights when the lamppost wasn’t working well, so I paid it no mind as I pushed my hands deeper inside my pockets, thumbing at the pocketknife I carried with myself at all times. Snow was to be expected any minute now and I willed my legs to move faster as a chill ran down my spine, the air colder than usual, and despite the clothes that were supposed to keep me warm for the day I still felt cold. As I rounded the corner, just a few steps away from the main road, I heard rushed footsteps behind me and when I turned to look back, I was slammed into the brick wall. My gasp was loud as the backpack slipped from my shoulder and I had to blink a few times to clear my vision as my head collided with the wall. I moved fast, grabbed the pocketknife and pointed it forward, black spots covering my vision as I came face-to-face with my attacker.

I soon realized the pocketknife would do nothing; the silver gun pointed directly at my head would kill me before I could even try to throw the knife at the man’s head. The lower half of his face was covered by a thick black scarf, but upon closer inspection, I realized I knew him already. I chuckled and shook my head, lowering my pocketknife as there was no use to it.

“Yeosang, we meet again,” I muttered and leaned against the brick wall, refusing to rub my throbbing head as I squared the man standing in front of me up. His warm demeanor was gone now, his eyes were lifeless and as he lowered the scarf from his face he was sneering. It was a scary contrast to the man he was at the coffee shop, and despite the fear I felt, I decided to remain calm and collected.

“We do, indeed, Y/N.” He said my name the same way he said it the first time, however, there was more spite in it and less warmth. I licked my lips and looked around ourselves, trying to make up an escape route. Yeosang seemed to realize this as he stepped closer, the gap smaller between us, “Don’t even think about running away, I will shoot you dead if you as much as flinch.”

I gulped as I looked at him blankly, wondering what was the smartest move I could pull now. Deciding to stall, hoping he was in a chatty mood, I spoke up again, “Well, I won’t even as much as flinch then. May I know why I’m being held at gunpoint by a man I had no idea existed before noon?”

Yeosang chuckled and then took another step, the cold gun pressing against my hot skin. I closed my eyes and let out a shuddered breath as the gun pressed against my forehead firmly, conscious of the danger I was in. I had never been face-to-face with a gun before, and I realized I wasn’t ready to die just yet.

“You should thank your lovely father,” Yeosang hissed, face scrunched in disgust as I gulped, realizing my father fucked up badly this time around, “Nobody messes with the Kang clan, if he thought he could get away, he was wrong.”

“Will you kill me then?” I asked quietly as my eyes bore into Yeosang’s, his a pool of darkness as mine were a pool of brightness. Yeosang paused, almost as if he was taken aback by my question, and then the gun was gone from my forehead as he stepped into my space, having me look up at him with a thundering heart.

“I should, yes, those were the initial orders.” He muttered and I remained unflinching as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, “I’ve been watching you for half a year now, Y/N, and I don’t exactly want to kill you anymore.”

I gulped, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes softened and cherry-red lips pulled into a small smile, “What then?”

He didn’t feel so menacing anymore, like the man he was just minutes ago, he felt safe and warm, it was confusing. It made no sense, and my body tensed when he caged me between himself and the bricked wall behind me as he pressed his hands against it, “Run away with me.”

“What?” I spluttered, eyebrows furrowing as I looked up into his eyes, mine wide and shocked. I must have misheard him, why would he ask me to leave with him?

“I’ve watched you for enough time to know you hate your father and the life he’s put you through,” Yeosang said, leaning down to be eye level with me, my breath stuttered for a second, “If you come with me you’ll be free to do whatever you wish.”

“This sounds like a bad deal with a mafia leader, to be honest.” Yeosang chuckled and finally pulled his arms away, letting me breathe freely as I felt my muscles relax at the little distance between our bodies.

“Because it is a deal with a mafia leader, just not a bad one.” Yeosang shrugged and then put the gun in its holster, which sat around his hip, I looked at it for a second too long, “My father died a month ago, I am the clan’s head now. If you come with me you’ll be free of all the depth your father plans on leaving on your shoulders. Did you know he’s made deals to run away and leave every issue of his on you?”

No, I did not know and it hurt. I gulped as my jaw clenched and unclenched, an indescribable rage overfilling my body. My father had no right to do that to me, to his daughter who remained by his side and took so much shit just for him to fuck up over and over again. He couldn’t do that to me when I finally had something going on for myself, I wouldn’t let him do that. I would leave like I had been planning to do, I will disappear from his life forever. I know my mother would’ve wanted me to live a happy and safe life, something my father failed to provide for us.

“Let’s run away, Yeosang.” I whispered, but my voice held conviction and coldness as Yeosang grinned, grabbing my hand to kiss my knuckles. My heart jumped in surprise and my cheeks dusted pink as he hummed, looking deeply into my eyes.

“You’re a lot smarter than your father is, as I had suspected.” He then invaded my space again with a deliciously mischievous glint in his eyes, “You and I will do great things together, Y/N.”

And I knew we would as I let him lead the way toward his expensive Maserati, my father’s favorite brand that he’d never be able to afford.

⚞ Masterlist ⚟

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bibliophileiz · 1 year ago

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2023 in Books, Part 1

I honored my New Year's Eve tradition of ranking the books I read throughout the year. This time I decided to split up the children's and YA books from the books for adults, because I don't think it's quite fair to compare them when they have two different audiences and often two different goals (and also when I so strongly prefer books for adults). It's like comparing apples and oranges. So here is Part 1: The Books for Young 'Uns.

As usual, this list is ranked strictly by personal preference, not by quality of writing or story, and they're based entirely on how I'm feeling right now. I reserve the right to change my mind at any time, so the list might be different next week. Cover images taken from GoodReads.

6. How Rory Thorne Destroyed the Multiverse by K. Eason Dates Read: Jan. 26-29 GoodReads Rating: Three stars Summary: I think it’s Sleeping Beauty in space? Maybe? One-sentence review: I remember next to nothing about this book but here was what I said on GR: It was kind of like if Princess Leia was an amalgamation for western fairy tale princesses and her life was being narrated by lemony snicket as a historian.

5. Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan Dates Read: I didn’t record it but it was early this year. GoodReads Rating: Three stars Summary: A woman named Sarah arrives in the prairie in the 1800s to decide if she wants to marry a widower with two children. Told from the oldest daughter’s point of view. One-sentence review: This isn’t fair for a children’s book, but I really wanted the adult version of this story, from Sarah’s point of view.

4. Eleanor by Kristiana Gregory. Part of the Royal Diaries series Dates Read: April 2 GoodReads Rating: Three stars Summary: A fictionalized account of Eleanor of Aquitaine’s life as a teenager, covering the death of her father and ending with her marriage to Louis, future king of France. One-sentence review: Eleanor and her sister, Petra, are great fun, and Gregory does a fantastic job of foreshadowing the things that are going to be important to Eleanor, like chivalric ideals and patronage of the arts, but like many of these Royal Diaries books, it focuses on the least interesting part of this extraordinary figure’s life.

3. The Great Railroad Race: The Diary of Libby West by Kristiana Gregory Dates Read: Dec. 31 GoodReads Rating: Three stars Summary: The diary of a teenage girl who’s family moves west so her journalist father (and unofficial editor mother) can cover the great railroad race between the Union Pacific and Central Pacific companies. One-sentence review: I loved this because there were so many 19th Century journalists.

2. Voyage on the Great Titanic: The Diary of Margaret Ann Brady by Ellen Emerson Dates Read: Nov. 11 GoodReads Rating: Three stars Summary: English orphan Margaret Ann keeps a diary of her trip on the Titanic after she is chosen to be a first-class passenger’s companion on board the ship. One-sentence review: Like all good Titanic stories, this book delves right into the class divisions that resulted in so many third-class passenger deaths – Emerson does not talk down to or whitewash history for her readers just because they’re children.

1. The Falling in Love Montage by Ciara Smyth Dates Read: July 28-Aug. 8 GoodReads Rating: Three stars Summary: Jaded Irish teenager Saoirse falls for romantic English girl Ruby, who tries to win Saoirse over with romantic comedy tropes. Review: This book has what all YA comedies have: a spunky narrator, a likeable love interest, fun side characters, and witty banter. That’s really all this one needed, but Smyth went one step beyond by writing a subplot involving Saoirse’s mother’s dementia and her father’s remarriage. Smyth handles the plot realistically, walking a tricky tightrope between handling the dementia sensitively while also writing Saoirse’s teenage angst—which can be pretty self-indulgent in a typical adolescent way. Saoirse worries about her mother, resents her father, and fears that one day she too will get early-onset dementia, which is why she is reluctant to fall in love or go to university. With help from old friends and new, her future stepmother, and of course Ruby, Saoirse comes to learn that planning a future around not having one is no way to live.

I had to pause this book several times (I was listening to the audiobook—and I’ll take this opportunity to give narrator Alana Kerr Collins a shout out because she was great). For personal reasons, I have a hard time reading about dementia and Alzheimer's in fiction, so it was this book was pretty emotional for me. But overall, the message was one of hope, and it was by far the best book I’ve read for children and teens in a while.

I'll post the rest of my books later today, as Part 2 is going to be longer and I want to go to bed.

#iz blogs about books #2023 in books #this was my children's books list which is why it's short #as you can see most of the children's books i read are books i remember from my own childhood that i find in my parents' house #or used bookstores #dear america series #royal diaries series #the falling in love montage

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king-spite · 1 year ago

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idk what left there is to say tbh.

Kitay and Rin have me on a chokehold. so does Jiang and so does Nezha, though not as much. Chaghan is also super cool, as petty as he might be. I was obsessed with Altan a "sane", "healthy" and "normal" amount until I read the last 30 pages and Rin's level of Completely-Fucked-Upness greatly overshadowed his. I am microwaving her and putting her in the diswasher and eating her whole and putting her on my pocket. she's a girlfailure and galnobody and a poor little meow meow and my little skrunkly and my gf and my 3 apples tall 2 weeks old daughter and the 5th reincarnation of virgin mary. she is the whole world, she is everything, she is the Moment. My top 3 Characters of all time have always been 1) Maven, 2) Touya and 3) Azula. BUT HONESTLY?????? I THINK RIN HAS GOT THE SECOND PLACE NOW???? (beaten ONLY by Maven cause there's no comparing any other character to him and STILL for a brief moment I had my doubts that I didn't like her better). I think she's beaten even TOUYA. *THE* BLORBO. she is just THAT good. she gives me 204829 mentall illnesses. also I'm convinced she has at least 5 cluster B personality disorders AND ocd cause hey we love projecting. and also she's a raging bisexual and I think this one's canon??

EITHER way. I finished this book yesterday and not a single fucking second has passed that I'm not thinking about it. this has been like Red Queen 2. like the Absolute Brainrot???? I can't even call it hyperfixation. I have absorved this book. I have DEVOURED it. It's my whole entire personality now, but not for the next 3 months but for the rest of my life. like. the Obsession is genuinely on a red queen level. and considering the damage red queen that's saying. A L O T.

in any case. I think i said more of what I think of it on Twitter but to sum it up: the characters are perfect and incredibly interesting and all my children and the themes and final message of the book are fascinating and the execution was also quite good and the worldbuilding is ALSO fascinsting and the FINALE MADE THE REST OF THE BOOK SO MUCH JUSTICE. this is the sort of book that finds a way in the back of my mind and crawls there and NEVER goes away. the sort of book that you read and already make 204829 mental animatics about. the sort of book that you finish reading and ALREADY have AUs about. I liked this more than six of crows even, more than anything else except red queen but it's CLOSE. AND I CANNOT WAIT TO GET THE HARDCOVER SUPER COOLD EDITION OF THE TRILOGY AND READ THEM AND THEM KILL MYSELF BECAUSE OF HOW GOOD THEY ARE AND THEN READ EVERY OTHER THING R. F. KUANG HAS EVER WRITTEN IN HER LIFE. btw. if you even care.

I think that's all :)

omg you're going to read the poppy war series????? it's soooo good (and soooo devastating)

yeah!!! I've been planning to read it for the past weeks, and I've seen a lot of positive reviews, so I wanted to give it a try! :) (I do hope I'm ready for the emotional damage tho😭)

#oh no wait I forgot to mention #I wholeheartedly believe Chaghan and Altan had the nastiest wildest gay sex ever known to man #yeah I think those are all my thoughts #<333 #the poppy war

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starseungs · 3 years ago

Text

➳ written on paper. lmh

pairing: (skz) lee minho x fem!reader

As the daughter of the previous Snow White, your story requires an evil witch to take the antagonist’s spot—someone who would help lead you towards your happily ever after. That was where Minho’s role comes in.

genre/s: fantasy au, storybook/fairytales next generation au, forbidden lovers(ish), angst, fluff, drama in general, a dash of humor, son of the evil queen minho x daughter of snow white reader, kinda ever after high au but with a twist

warning/s: mentions of death (no actual dying), themes of bullying & discrimination (story roles), mentions of cheating (its not minho dw), political(?) corruption & deception, swearing, crying... lots, hyunjin is kinda an asshole for a while im so sorry

wc: 16.6k

note: tysm for the people who took interest in the teaser! i hope this makes the wait worth it <3 also this is my first time writing a fic this long, so feedback would be greatly appreciated^^

2022 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Legacy Day.

A momentous event where the students of Storybook High pledge to all of the magical world to follow in the same footsteps as their fairytale parents. In this school, the students range from the offspring of protagonists to mere side characters—the sons and daughters of antagonists are here too.

You see, when children of this magical world turn eleven, they are sent to study at Storybook High to learn more about the realm and the stories that led to its establishment. One is expected to complete the full nine-year curriculum and sign the Book of Legends on the first day of eighth grade, sealing their fate forever. This day is called "Legacy Day."

The process of signing one’s fate has been followed for many years. Some were less willing than the others, of course—but at the end of the day, no one had ever dared not to sign. This was greatly influenced by the saying that if you don’t, then your story will disappear along with you. As one would have already guessed, that belief sparked a heated debate about whether it was true or not. After all, there were a lot of fairytale children that despised their so-called "fate".

And that leads us exactly to our current event.

Silence wraps the massive hall as all eyes are fixated on one person standing on top of the tall stage. Tension hung heavily in the air, a result created by seeing who was facing them all. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation, finding your hands clasped while your eyes were glued on Minho—who was nervously staring at the book in front of him.

Minho was what they could classify as your partner. Not in a romantic way (you suppose), but more so with your stories. As the daughter of the previous Snow White, your story requires an evil witch to take the antagonist’s spot—someone who would help lead you towards your happily ever after.

That was where Minho’s role comes in.

"I am Minho, son of the Evil Queen. And," he takes a shaky breath. "I pledge..."

Everyone watching is on the tips of their toes. Minho was most well known as the person who hated their fate more than anyone else. He was practically the face of the "rebellious teens," as the others called them, who claimed they would write their own stories instead. Being the son of the Evil Queen—the same person who poisoned your very own mother and got herself locked up inside the mirror prison, his story calls for him to do the same to you.

Surprisingly, Minho was far from what you would’ve expected as the next Evil King.

From the moment you got your acceptance letter, your parents had already warned you to never befriend Minho. They said that he’d be mean, despicable, a rotten apple, and basically evil as a whole. "Mind your own business in the dorm room, sweetheart," you remember your mother telling you as she smoothed out your dress in the carriage. "Your roommate will be the enemy. I know it sounds scary, but it’s only natural. Both of your fates are tied together. However, do not worry, my love. It’ll be over as soon as possible," she comforted you.

Well, it turns out your parents were very wrong.

Minho was nothing short of sweet and caring. Sure, he was a bit cold at times, but his frosty exterior did not speak for him the same way his heart did at all. He was fun, playful, and easy to get along with. You found yourself forming a friendly dynamic with him sooner than you expected.

"I pledge," Minho visibly gritted his teeth to force out the words he feared for the longest time. Eyes shifting, he looked at you—wordlessly pleading for you to help him escape. But, having nothing much you could do, you could only give him a small smile of encouragement. He had to do this.

There was no other choice.

Feeling defeated, he took the quill and stopped below the page. This was it—he’s expected to sign any second now, you thought bitterly. Even if one despised their fate, it was the only way to live in this world. The harsh truth that all of you had to endure.

Yet just when you were about to relax, Minho’s eyes suddenly changed from hesitant to determined. Your eyes automatically widened in horror. As his friend and roommate for the seven years you’ve been at this school, that look was something you knew very well.

He can’t be thinking of—no way!

"No," he spat out strongly. The crowd collectively gasps at his words. "I’m not signing this bullshit."

In one quick motion, the book was slammed shut.

The sound of distressed reactions took over the hall as the magic mirrors showcasing the event shattered one by one. Fear quickly spread amongst the mass of people, the emotion emphasized by the now dimming lighting. Your body froze in shock and disbelief at what Minho had just done. This—this can’t be happening, right?

Your eyes closed instinctively as you shook silently beneath the stage. You two can’t just disappear like this! What on earth was Minho thinking? Sure, you had already signed your story, but without Minho, would it even still exist? Both of your fates are broken now—if there even is one by the end of this.

You hoped the disappearing process would be painless because you really weren’t ready to experience suffering for something you didn’t ask for in the first place. A few seconds passed by as you waited for the inevitable.

But it never came.

Instead, you found yourself feeling nothing that was out of the ordinary. As you slowly raise your head to look at the situation, your eyes catch sight of Minho’s disapproving ones. In the short minute that you had that small breakdown, he had already stepped off the stage and was now proceeding to head away from the hall.

The look he gave you made your eyes burn in hot fury.

Is he serious? Why is he even disappointed? Can he really blame you for getting scared when he’s the one who put both of your lives in danger? You signed the book—you even signed it for him! All in an effort to make sure that both of your stories won’t vanish into thin air.

So what made him betray you like that?

Your clicking heels echoed loudly throughout the hallway as you walked briskly to follow his speedy figure. "Minho!" you called out to him, tone filled with frustration. Luckily, that seemed to halt his steps.

Finally catching up, you stopped just a few meters behind his back. The air was cold and lightly frosted over your warm skin. The once lively corridor was now bleak and seemed very unwelcoming. There was an unspoken hostility felt between you and Minho, as the two of you stood there for a moment—not saying anything. Something you had already expected.

What can you even say after all that?

Minho sighs in exasperation before turning around and facing you. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, refusing to venture to his face, which was carved with torment. You tried to reach your hand out to touch him, but he swatted your hand away gently. "...What do you want?"

You found your mind blanking for a moment after finally getting a better look at him. Minho looked ethereal at that moment, even through the show of his obvious pain. The moonlight suited him, you thought. It framed his whole being in its sparkling glow.

Nevertheless, it wasn't long until you remembered why you were in front of him in the first place.

"...Why?" you rasped out. All the previous events and emotions begin to flood back, overwhelming you beyond belief. "Why would you do that!?" you shrieked at him. Minho clenched his jaw at your words.

"You... you could've disappeared! I could've disappeared! What were you thinking—"

"But we didn't!" he yelled back. Your words immediately clumped up and stuck in your throat, unable to get out. "We didn't disappear! So I'm asking you now Y/N, what do you want?" Minho seethed.

What did you want? What else could you possibly want? All you wished for was to live properly and survive. But to achieve that in this world, he had to—

"Sign the book," you pleaded desperately. And even through the hurt gaze he set on you, you continued to try and reason with him.

"Please just sign the book. I'll do anything you want. You want to change your destiny, right? We can make it work! Do you perhaps want a throne? I'll give you mine willingly. You don't have to be thrown into the mirror prison," your voice was becoming shakier by the second from the intensity of the situation. "See? It's not really that hard, Minho! You could still change the events even if you signed the book. I know you're scared to live a life you don’t want, but—"

"When will you understand that it's not about me!?" he cried out.

The sheer amount of emotion in Minho's voice takes you by surprise. It was raw, and undoubtedly broken. His words pierced your heart sharply, and you inwardly winced as you felt the imaginary arrows sink deeper. Through the ache, you forced out a reply, "...Pardon?"

Minho hastily wiped the few tears that managed to escape, and said, "I don’t want a throne, and I'm not scared of going to that prison. In fact, with what they're expecting me to do, I really do deserve it! Just—just like my mother..."

He's... not? Then why go through all this trouble for a rebellion? He even appears to be willing to poison you—

"But I'm different from her. I don't want to hurt you," he added weakly, "Ever. I could never bring myself to do it, Y/N. And I knew if I signed that damned book, fate would somehow find a way for me to fulfill the story, even against my wishes. And... I can't have that."

"But what about the story now? If it disappears, we—"

"Oh please, Y/N. What are we doing right now, huh? Talking! We didn't disappear like all the legends used to say."

"But we still could!" you stubbornly retorted.

Minho huffed and rolled his eyes, "So what? I'd rather that happen than my story."

The frigid tension that formed between the two of you engulfed the whole space. At this point, you were sure that if someone were to walk in on the two of you, there was a good chance they would end up coughing ice.

"You don't mean that," you warned, glaring at him. "I know well that you aren't implying that you'd rather die than... live?" The words you uttered weighed heavy on your tongue.

He simply shrugged casually in response, "Why not? I have nothing to look forward to in my supposed future anyway. Unlike your kind who get all the happy endings, we're just here to make you guys look good—what? Don't look at me like that. You know damn well it's true," he scoffed venomously. "A lot of us don't even like our stories, but look at how we're forced to do it for you to live happily ever after."

His words set fire inside of you once again. How dare he assume you had it easy too? Maybe on paper it did—you could admit that. You were a protagonist and a royal, after all, destined to have a happy ending and live a lavish life. But you knew that if you closely examined the cards you'd been dealt with, it was far from the ideal storybook ending people made it out to be. You couldn't help but laugh at the irony.

"Do you really think I like my story too?" You questioned him with a wry chuckle. "Do you really think I want to be poisoned? Then get rescued by a prince who, mind you, doesn't even love me! And then say I have to marry him too? It's bad enough Hyunjin openly displays to the public that he doesn't have an ounce of care about my well-being, but he's even shoving it into my face that he already likes someone else! Tell me who in the world wants to be a second choice, let alone be cheated on?"

"Then you shouldn't have signed it."

His blunt words hit you like a truck. Finally feeling the crash of all the events that happened, you broke out into tears. The moonlight you praised him in earlier now serves as a humiliating reminder of what’s to come. Minho stares at your sobbing face one last time before walking away.

And all you could think about was how he could be right.

The bustling crowd of the school cafeteria is loud as always—but this time, there was a glaringly obvious tense atmosphere that followed everyone. You couldn’t help but sigh at the troublesome situation.

It's been a tough week for you in terms of your social life. The number of pitiful looks you've received, as well as "You can get through this," greetings from your fellow peers who played as protagonists, was astounding. On a normal day before, they would never have spared you a single glance unless they needed something. But now, you’ve practically become the center of their conversations.

And even at the very moment, you’ve got all their attention. One would think their stares were due to you wearing something obnoxious—but you were literally just trying to eat. You roll your eyes in annoyance.

So much for a good lunch.

"Maybe if you weren’t in such a critical situation right now, then they wouldn’t be eyeing you like a display," Seungmin commented from across the table. You threw some grains of rice towards him.

"Or, I don’t know, they could mind their own business?"

"As if that would ever happen," the son of the Queen of Hearts muttered. "They’d rather watch the world explode than pass on drama."

In a way, he was right. Storybook High was not just any normal school—it was also the center of gossip throughout the entire realm. As you were the next generation of citizens, the spotlight currently shines brightly on your generation.

Felix chuckled. "It’s funny to see how different the two sides view you." The reminder of the current unity status of the student body from the next Hansel (his mother is actually Gretel, but Felix’s cousin was a girl, so they agreed to switch) immediately sucked all the remaining life from your body. "The Royals pity you, while the Rebels are curious about where you stand."

The Royals and the Rebels.

Division between the student population had been at an all-time high ever since that little stunt Minho pulled on Legacy Day. What was once a peaceful crowd quickly developed into a dangerous war zone. Granted, the people’s divisions already existed even before the school was founded. The most obvious one was being sorted into "Protagonists," "Antagonists," and "Side Characters." But it looks like with the current rise in rebellion of teens who aren’t satisfied with their fates, a new division has arisen.

And it worsened with Minho’s refusal to sign his story.

You see, after the both of you left the hall to have your little "chat"—many of those who wanted to write a new destiny for themselves also refused to sign. These people, including Minho himself, are now classified as "Rebels." This placed them on the bad side of the (now called) "Royals", who wanted to follow their predetermined happily ever afters.

Not everyone opposing the Rebels is actually royalty, but the majority of them are. This was what earned the group's generalized title as "Royals." Although, some of the non-royalty protagonists took advantage of the opportunity to act like one. One of them is Yeri, Goldilocks' daughter—

"Hey Y/N!" You hear a familiar voice call out. Well, speak of the devil. Yeri happily rushes over to your current table, an action Hyunjin clearly did not appreciate. Oh, did you mention you were eating lunch with him? No? Good. He’s not that special anyway.

Deciding to be a decent person, you turned around and greeted the girl, "A pleasant day to you too, Yeri. What can I help you with?" Seungmin and Felix quickly followed up with their pleasantries, while Hyunjin only grunted as his greeting. If this jackass—

"Oh, yes certainly," she chirps joyfully. You kind of envy her personality. For being the next Snow White, you were nowhere near being as positive as your mother. You lightly smiled at Yeri for her to continue, "Well, you see, I’m writing a new scoop for my blog about Legacy Day! Could you be a dear and tell me what you think of what happened?"

Your smile vanishes in a flash.

Is this a joke? Why are they asking you, of all people? It’s either she’s completely clueless or this is a sick way of putting you down. The nerve of them to attempt to humiliate you like this.

Felix tries to intervene, seeing your reaction. "Yeri, actually—"

A sudden mocking laugh rang through your ears, successfully cutting Felix off. "Please, Yeri. You can interview me instead. Let’s leave little Snow White alone, yeah? She’s already dealing with so much!"

Seungmin didn’t even try to hide his distaste for the new face that entered the scene—a contrast to Hyunjin, who finally cracked a smile for the first time since he sat at the table.

Of course he would. The voice belonged to the one and only Mina. The daughter of the Swan Princess, now the Swan Queen.

Just great. What does she want now? You never knew what her problem was. She has always had a personal vendetta against you and is hellbent on making your life as miserable as possible. Not very successful, but bothersome nonetheless.

Right—she’s also the one dating Hyunjin. The awfully paired Prince Charming to your Snow White.

Your friends used to say that she was just jealous of you. And while there was a good percentage for that to be true, you personally think she’s just a shitty person in general. Her not-so-best reputation among the student body certainly backed that up. Her and Hyunjin suit each other, you thought to yourself.

"I’m so sorry, Y/N! I swear I didn’t mean to offend you," Yeri quickly apologized. Your head was slowly starting to hurt from all this dramatic nonsense. And unfortunately for you, Hyunjin finally decides to speak up, "Mina is right. Y/N must be having such a hard time, especially knowing her story might not happen anymore."

What the fuck. Is he for real?

Apparently he is, because he chose to leave your group at the table and walk away with the other two girls. Oh—would you look at that. Totally expected of him. You groaned as you rested your head on the lunch table.

"Why does he even decide to hang around us?" Seungmin scowled at Hyunjin’s retreating figure. "It’s not as if he likes any of us."

You poked at your tray with a spoon, "His parents probably forced him to because of me. Who knows, maybe they’re scary."

Hyunjin was… not necessarily a bad person. In the eyes of other people, he really wasn’t. He had a good reputation amongst your peers (a stark contrast to his girlfriend), and was often called the "ideal prince." Yet, for some reason you can’t understand, he was nothing less than a pain for you and your friends.

"Until now, I don’t get his issue. You haven’t been treating him half as bad as he does to you," Felix sips on his juice. "Is the idea of kissing you in a casket that nightmare inducing for him? You’re literally the one dying, Y/N."

From the very start, you knew Hyunjin did not like that he was the assigned prince to you. He never explained why though, and you always thought it was because, ironically, he likes apples. You’re honestly surprised he even signed his story! For the longest time, you believed he was going to end up siding with the Rebels.

Well, to be fair, he is still a prince destined for a happy ending—no matter the partner assigned to him. Maybe he also couldn’t give up the luxury. Or like you, believed that he would disappear too. All valid reasons in your book.

Speaking of Rebels, you lifted your head to look at Minho’s direction. You’ve noticed him sitting near the window since lunch started, and the sight of him alone made your heart ache with worry. From what you’ve seen, people have been avoiding him like the plague ever since the Legacy Day incident happened. Aside from when he was with his friends, all others who refused to sign their stories, Minho was seen on his own for the most part.

You were well aware that a lot of Royals had been badmouthing him intensely too. The complete opposite to the pity treatment you’ve been receiving, even though you knew they could care less. And to be honest, it’d be better if they actually acted that way instead.

"Jeez, look over there," Felix whispered. "A Royal table and a Rebel table are arguing."

How amusing. It looks like you really owe Minho an apology. He was right about most of the Royals. One of the only exceptions would probably be your friends and Jisung. He was genuinely worried enough to tell you that he was willing to be your prince instead, if Hyunjin (his best friend, by the way. How that happened, you would never know.) was ever planning on flaking out. You politely declined him, though. Your stories would clash too much. After all, he was the main protagonist of his own story too—being the son of the Frog Prince and all. The poor guy also had a massive hopeless crush on Pinocchio’s daughter.

Back to Minho, the two of you haven’t spoken for the past week. The dorm room both of you shared became too quiet, not a single word being uttered throughout the hours it was occupied. And whenever you did try to talk to him, he would simply ignore you, even leaving the room if it wasn't yet past curfew.

Maybe you should try it now?

"Hey," you tried to get your two friends’ attention, "Should I talk to Minho?"

Seungmin peeled his eyes away from the fight that was occurring a few tables away. "Go for it? You’ve been all mopey and sad for the past week. It’s about time you and him made up." Felix agreed with a short nod.

"Alright, wish me luck."

Deciding to test the waters, you stood up from your seat. The nerves are starting to form, and the words you wanted to say are lost in the sea of your thoughts once again. Taking a deep breath, you told yourself you could do it.

It was just Minho, after all. You two are close friends, right? Even though you’re supposed to be enemies in front of everyone else, of course. Talking to him shouldn’t be this hard. It’s all in your head, Y/N. You can do it.

Now—okay, maybe not.

As soon as you finally get the courage to move, you spot his friends approaching him. It looks like you lost your chance again. He would surely use his friends as an excuse to avoid you. Running your hand through your hair, you backed out of your plan right away and sat down.

Felix snorted, "Too late, huh?"

You’ll just have to talk to him soon.

Minho was not in class.

Normally, this fact wouldn’t bother you too much—but it was currently culinary class. His favorite class out of them all.

Other students knew of this fact too. And while they used to think it was because he was secretly determined to successfully poison you in the future, you knew that it was just because he genuinely liked cooking. So the mere fact that he wasn’t anywhere to be seen at that moment concerned you greatly.

Chan, your cooking partner for this session, took notice of your fidgety actions. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You look really anxious. Is it perhaps because of me?" His question surprised you.

What? Why would you be—oh. Chan was someone who sided with the rebels. He was good friends with Minho too, the two of them sharing the same sentiment of not wanting to be antagonists in anyone’s lives. You knew being told to be the next Big Bad Wolf hadn't been an easy task for him. And because you're technically a royal, he might be thinking you despise his guts as well.

"Oh, not at all! I’m so sorry... I’m just concerned about Minho," he hums at your answer. Taking out the chopping board, he replies, "Is it because he’s not here? Yeah, I could totally relate to your thought process. Shocked the heck out of me too, actually."

You nod aggressively, "Exactly! He never skips culinary class. There was this one time when he was having such a bad headache, yet still insisted on attending this class for that day."

In general, it was quite unlikely for Minho to skip any classes at all. He was someone who valued education and was very vocal about it. That, and something about not wanting to act like his mother when she was still in school. Minho was determined to be a model student, proving to others that he was nowhere near evil.

"Yeah, it sounds like him alright," Chan says, laughing. "Who knows? Maybe he’s just really tired today." You think carefully about his words.

It was a reasonable guess, but Minho? Too tired to cook? Unheard of! Unless he’s really sick and can’t attend the class because of the health protocols. He seemed okay this morning, though? Sure, you can’t really tell since the both of you haven’t interacted in a while (you should really try talking to him again, it’s been 3 days since the cafeteria attempt), and you only had this class together for this year—

Wait a minute.

You only shared culinary class with him this year? He—he couldn’t have avoided this class because it was the only class you two had together, right? He wouldn’t go as far as skipping his favorite class just to avoid you?

News flash, Y/N. He totally could. And that’s most likely what happened.

You huffed at the pettiness of the idea. If he doesn’t want you to convince him to sign the book that badly, then you won’t! Like it’d even matter at this point. Too much damage has already been done.

The look on your face must’ve been clear as day, because you hear Chan sigh from beside you. You flushed in embarrassment. While chopping the carrot, Chan decides to break the silence. "You think he’s avoiding you, huh?" he said, as you gave him a short nod. "Did he tell you that?"

"No, not really," you awkwardly responded. "We—we haven’t been talking."

Chan starts aggressively chopping, "Minho, that idiot. I told him to talk to you!" You stopped steering the soup you two were working on. The volume of his sigh worsened. You couldn’t help but snicker at his obvious stress.

"That guy really," he said, finishing up. "Don’t worry, Y/N. He’ll come around soon. He just needs more time to think."

Time to think... He had a point. Maybe you needed time to think too.

For the past few days, you’ve been really preoccupied with the relationship between you and Minho, along with the growing suspicion that the Royals were starting to outcast you (their pity phase must be over now). Because of that, you haven’t had the luxury of really thinking about everything. From the events that happened on Legacy Day to figuring out what you actually believed in—there was still a lot to unpack.

But before you could completely immerse yourself in your mind, panicked squeals diverted your attention to the cooking booth right beside Chan and yours—where two of your classmates were rummaging around in an attempt to stop the boiling pot from spilling over.

"Uh, hey Chan, can you help?" Changbin, the Mad Hatter’s son, awkwardly calls out. Right beside him was a malfunctioning Jeongin, seemingly under more stress than the former. Chan’s eyes widened, "What did you even do?"

"It was Jeongin’s idea!" Changbin whined to your partner. The mentioned guy protests, "It was clearly a joke! I didn’t think you would actually do it!"

Ah—the son of the Cheshire Cat causes mischief once again.

Groaning, Chan turns to look at you. "Sorry Y/N, can you handle the soup first? I’ll just help them real quick," you give him a thumbs up, "Thanks. Just put the ones I chopped in the pot, then stir until cooked." You did exactly as you were told. While waiting for the soup to cook, you decided to take the opportunity and start what you should’ve done earlier.

First of all, Legacy Day.

At first, you were terrified that Minho had finalized his stance that he wouldn’t follow his story. All your life, you were led to believe that following one’s destiny was the only way to continue living. You never questioned it as a result—it was quite straightforward anyway. Signing the Book of Legends was a life or death situation. And as a young child, disappearing so early in life was not the most appealing concept.

But that belief was shattered on Legacy Day, along with the magic mirrors that surrounded the hall. You and Minho didn’t fade away. Heck, even Hyunjin didn’t fade away, and he was supposed to be tied to both of your stories too!

So what does that mean to you?

Simple. Your life was a lie.

The whole "follow the destiny given to you" was full of crap, and you can’t believe you let yourself be trapped in that mindset for too long. In the first place, you never even wanted to be the next Snow White. No matter how many times your parents made the concept sound appealing, you just never understood the reason why you had to be poisoned and then saved by a prince. With a kiss too? Magic existed here, yes, but was that really enough to get rid of literal poison?

Plus, if the kiss needed to be from true love, then you were damned from the start—there was no way Hyunjin would end up loving you enough for that to work. And you’d really rather not touch his plump lips. If you did, Mina just might stab you in your casket, successfully killing you for a second time in a row.

It’d be "Snow White: Bad Ending" for that one.

If you really thought about it, the only other reason you signed the book was for Minho. Aside from your own life, you cared a lot about his too. Minho was your best friend, your partner, and an overall important person to you. If him living meant you had to throw away your freedom, then so be it. You won’t let Minho vanish from this world wrongfully.

You loved him too much for that.

Love. Certainly, a strong word. You still don’t know what kind of love you held for the son of the Evil Queen exactly, but you knew you did love him. Did he feel the same too? You hoped so. If his words from Legacy Day spoke any truth, then he did care about you a lot. What he did contradicted your survival plan for the both of you, but from his point of view, it was also his way of protecting you and him.

So then, where do you stand?

It’s—it’s hard to decide at the moment. On one hand, you had the life you were conditioned to have growing up, and on the other hand, it was where you could be free. Saying it was comfort versus your dream would be an understatement. And while you wanted to dream as much as the Rebels did, that life hasn’t been proven to be very stable yet in your eyes.

Maybe you could just wait a bit more to choose. You wanted to talk to Minho first and see what he had to say. But so far—you think you might be on the verge of regretting ever signing your fate.

"Uh... Y/N," Chan said, tapping your shoulder and jolting you out of your thoughts. "The soup might be cooked already."

You gasped, "Oh, right! My bad, Chan." He waved away your apology, "Nah, it’s all good. Just turn the fire off and I’ll plate the soup." He started placing the bowls down.

Glancing over at Changbin and Jeongin’s side, you just now realized they were gone. "What did they go?" you ask. Chan grimaced at his friends’ situation. "Got called by the teacher. They’re probably getting scolded outside." You cringed.

"That’s… unfortunate."

Culinary class ended not long after.

The regret of having signed the book was getting stronger, alright.

Walking down the school corridors, the difference between the Royals and the Rebels suddenly seems more evident to your observing eyes. It was the hour right after the last classes ended, meaning everyone would be gathered in the halls. Students were all leaving classrooms, organizing their lockers, and conversing with friends—something you couldn’t do because Seungmin had choir practice, while Felix was off to the library.

In all your eighteen years of living, never once have you felt as painfully uncomfortable as at this very moment. It was like someone had pulled the blindfold that you had been forced to wear all the way back to when you were still a kid.

So what was this jarring difference between the two sides, you asked?

The Royals were unapologetically shitting on the Rebels while the latter minded their own business. How surprising, right? And even with people hovering over their backs for the most part, they were still the ones with wide smiles and exciting chatter—meanwhile the opposite side that was too busy pampering themselves, still found the time and need to sneer at any Rebel who passed by. You winced at their actions, genuinely ashamed.

God forbid that you had acted like they did before. Even though you knew you weren’t half as bad as them because of befriending Minho, there was still a big chance you had those moments unconsciously. And you hated that thought. It’s absolutely detestable! Downright vile! The Rebels just wanted their chances of living happily ever after too. What was so wrong with that?

It was at that moment that you realized that the influence ran deep. That there was some sort of ‘worthy’ and ‘not worthy’ mindset that plagued the protagonists’ side of the division—even through the peace that you thought the school had before. As someone who was also exposed to that lifestyle since you were born, you could see where they were coming from, but at the same time, you were highly repulsed by the thought. The list of things you wanted to tell Minho grew longer by the second you stayed in this hallway.

You sped away from the scene, deciding to head to the school balconies. You figured studying with a good view would keep your thoughts at bay for a while. If you spent another minute in the midst of all that, you would probably end up choosing to resign your crown at the next possible moment. And you didn’t want to do something too life-changing impulsively. Turning the corner to reach your destination, the sudden sight caught you off guard.

It was Hyunjin and Mina. Making out in broad daylight, without shame.

They were hidden by the pillars that stood as support for the entryway of the balconies. But you could still see them very clearly from where you stood. You doubt they could see you, though. Whether it was because you were well hidden, or they were too engrossed in sucking each other's faces—you really didn’t want to know.

Admittedly, there was a part of you that wanted to earn Hyunjin’s affection. He was to be your husband, after all. It was only natural to want a marriage with love, or at the very least, respect. But out of everything, you could never blame Hyunjin for liking someone else. You even supported him, even if his girlfriend was someone who you could never stand to be in the same room with. Anyone should be able to love who they want to, as well as marry who they want to, responsibly. Not some nonsense book about those who came before you—

Holy shit. Your life is so fucked.

You were the one being told who to love and marry by that book. The one whose life is to be lived and told through a script. The situation you were trapped in had never been clearer than at this very moment, and it crashed on you like that one little pig’s pile of bricks.

Silent tears flowed out of your eyes as you thought of the future. Happily ever after, your ass. You're going to be married to an asshole who can’t even respect you as a prospective wife who’s in the same boat as him, and would rather choose someone else over you! Not to mention, he has to bring you back from the dead first—what if he takes the chance and just leaves you to rot? Where's the happy ending in that?

Through a watery vision, you noticed your sight suddenly dimming as you felt a hand softly wrap around your eyes, blocking your view of the couple. The sudden force caused your back to collide against a strong chest. A sudden action, but you didn’t scream. Because you recognized that scent right away.

"You big baby. If you hate it that much, why’d you sign the book?"

It’s Minho.

God, you missed his voice. It feels like it’s been forever. Feeling the relief of having him close again on top of your devastation for the future, you felt yourself starting to cry harder. He sighed at your tears, deciding to drag you away from the balconies.

"Seriously, Y/N. You have to stop pining after him. It’s not even worth it," he snarkily comments. While messily wiping your tears, you let out a small laugh. "I’m not." You both came to a stop in the middle of an empty corridor.

Finally, he turns to face you. Rolling his eyes playfully, he started wiping the remaining tears from your face. "You are such a big baby," he says, to which you slap his chest lightly, "I’m not!"

He squished your cheeks in response to your protest. "Look at you, saying the same thing over and over again like a child," he cooed. Slapping his chest more strongly, he coughed out a wail of complaint.

"What? So you're finally deciding to talk to me now?" You glared at him. Those words seemed to get through to Minho, because he started rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly.

Diverting eye contact, he replies, "Yeah, about that—I’m really sorry."

You looked at him, not convinced in the slightest. "Did Chan talk to you?" you asked. The guy did say he told Minho to talk to you. Maybe Minho finally took his advice after another round of suggestions.

It turns out the answer to your question looked like a no, because he seemed genuinely confused at what you said. "... No? Why?"

Shaking your head, you waved him off. But Minho, being Minho, decided to dig deeper into the topic. "Did you two talk about me? What did you say?" he pressed further. Glaring at him, you pushed past him and started walking down the corridor. He trailed you like a lost puppy.

"Y/N, come on," he says, grabbing your waist and pulling you both to a halt. The gesture left you absolutely speechless. "What’d you say about me, hm?" he whispered in your ear.

Feeling steam rushing out of your ears, you immediately pulled away. He laughs at your flustered face. "Why would you—what?" You started rambling more random words, "Minho!"

"Yes, that’s me," he jested. After seeing the amusement on his face, you quickly composed yourself. What is up with him today? Sure, he was normally playful, but not like this! You don’t think this Minho was good for your heart—if the way it was racing indicated anything severe.

Minho crossed his arms, frowning a bit. "Why are you so secretive about it? Did you both talk shit about me?" he raised an eyebrow in suspicion. You shook your head to deny his claim, "Not at all. We just talked about why you weren’t in culinary class earlier." His shoulders seemed to sag in relief.

It's not like you’d ever talk bad about him in the first place.

"Ah that," he started, "I was called to the principal’s office." The revelation has you startled. Why was he called in there? Are they expelling him? No way! They can’t do that! That’s absurd—

At your alarmed reaction, he immediately grabbed your shoulders and assured you, "Hey, hey. It’s not anything bad, I promise, okay?" He waited until you were able to compile your thoughts. You gazed into his eyes to see if he was telling the truth. And just as he said, his pretty eyes held no lies.

"Then... why were you called then?" you asked. He visibly cringed at the question. Upon seeing his response, you quickly connected the dots and trapped him in a tight hug. Minho was not someone who made a big deal of most things that happened, so earning this kind of reaction from him could mean one thing: "Did—did they make you talk to her?"

His head dipping into the crook of your neck weakly was enough to tell you that your assumption had been correct. The school had pulled out the mirror that the Evil Queen was imprisoned in and made him talk to her. This now showed the school’s stance on the issue to you.

They were not taking Minho’s rebellion positively in the slightest.

Pulling him closer, you comforted him in the same way you’ve done multiple times before. As one would have deduced from seeing this side of Minho, he and his mother did not have a good relationship. She was the face of evil, someone who was truly rotten to the core. Minho wanted to be nothing like her. And he damn made sure of that. Unlike her, Minho was determined to live as a good citizen of the magical world. That alone made him stronger than most of the heroes you knew.

He started shifting in your embrace. You instantly knew he was about to say something. "Y/N, can you answer me seriously?" he asked softly. Nodding, you kept holding him. "Why did you actually sign the book?"

You paused for a moment, thinking about your true answer seriously. The two of you had to have this talk sooner or later. It was the main source of your conflict, the reason for all the days spent avoiding each other. Not addressing it would just be pushing aside the topic until it explodes again. So you prepared yourself for what's to come.

"I didn’t want to lose you."

Your honest words infuriated Minho, "So you’re willing to live a life you don’t want just so I won’t disappear!?" He pulled away from your embrace. You could only look at him with blank eyes. What could you even say to that? Correcting him would not do anything.

Because he was completely right.

"Why are you mad? You’re also the one who refused to sign the book because you would rather die than hurt me," you pointed out the hypocrisy behind his words. "You were so willing to sacrifice yourself so that I could live safely. So why can’t I do that too?"

"Y/N, that’s not the same—"

"I told you we could have still made it work even if we both signed the book. You know that too."

"You know I can’t—"

"Why?" you whimpered, feeling the dam of your tears starting to break once again. This was way too many mood swings in a day for your liking. You don’t think you could take any more crying after this. "Just like you’re afraid of fate tying you to end up hurting me, I’m scared of it taking you away from me too! So tell me, what exactly is the difference, Minho?"

This got him to think for a second, the gears in his head turning and twisting to make sense of what you had just uttered. And when he finally reached a conclusion, his eyes widened in shock. It looks like you have both finally reached common ground.

It was his turn to hug you tightly now, frantically apologizing for the way he acted. "You're such an idiot," you muttered into his chest. He simply agreed with you. "I’m sorry too."

"I know. I already forgive you."

"And I’m sorry for Legacy Day. The thought that you could disappear at any moment and I’d never see you again blinded me. I wasn’t even thinking twice about what I was saying at the moment. I—I also didn’t want to go," you sniffled. "It’s just that I really believed that we had to sign to—"

"You don’t have to explain. It’s okay, I understand now." Minho shushed you. "I was in the wrong too. Emotions just got to the best of me, so I lashed out. I’ve had time to think though, and you just gave me another realization earlier too."

The both of you simply wanted the best for the other in the only way you knew how. Unfortunately, your methods were completely different. But that doesn’t change the fact that all you both wished for was each other's safety, and this was just one big misunderstanding.

"Are we okay now?" You asked hopefully.

"Yeah."

And that was all you needed to hear.

The same night Minho was called to the principal’s office, your parents contacted you through your mirror phone—demanding that you convince Minho to change his mind. You were so tired from the flurry of emotions you went through for the day that you merely responded that you would, not even meaning what you said.

That seemed to please them, though, since they immediately said goodbyes with their usual overly affectionate tone—which, after your big realization, sounded a lot more artificial than you remembered.

Great. Now you’re even questioning your own parents’ love.

Your exhausted groan simply received a raised eyebrow from Minho, who was minding his own business at his side of the room. "Looks like you’ll be back to convincing me to be your Evil King again?" he snickered in the background.

Flopping (not-so-gracefully) on your bed, you let out a whine of annoyance. "No, but I don’t want to deal with them right now."

Minho hums in agreement, "I don’t blame you. Seeing as you cried two times in the span of 30 minutes earlier," his joking tone was not lost on you, however, so you just laughed the comment off.

"Fuck you, really."

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. After directing an eye roll towards him, you stood up to enter the bathroom. "Since when did you curse?" he inquires excitedly, like a kid asking if they could buy something. You reached for the toothpaste, "I actually curse a lot in my mind. I just don’t use it out loud because they told me that it was unbecoming of a princess to do so." He couldn’t see you, but you were making that air quote gesture.

"Use it more around me, it sounds nice."

"It's foul words, Minho," you said, voice muffled by the toothpaste foam, "And I doubt it actually sounds nice."

When silence was all you got back, you scoffed in annoyance. He was so petty at times. You took a bit more time in the bathroom, doing what was needed for your night routine. Minho hasn’t made a noise for a while now, so you let yourself think he’s knocked out cold. After rinsing your mouth one last time, you get ready to leave the bathroom.

You really should’ve seen what was coming.

"Boo," Minho says, suddenly appearing right beside you. You quickly suppressed the urge to scream in consideration of the rooms right beside yours. Irritated, you yell, "What the hell!"

Unbeknownst to you, that was his plan all along.

"Another swear!" Oh, of course he would. You wanted to be mad, but found your anger dissipating instead. The sparkle in his eyes, hearing you curse once again, was too adorable for you to stand.

Minho spent the rest of the night teaching you more swear words. It was unnecessary, but you let him do it. You have been waiting to talk to him for days now—and you surely won’t let this go to waste.

The next couple of days were an absolute nightmare, though. Good things come with a price, you guess. This had to be the world’s way of making you pay back the luck you spent in trying to reconcile with Minho.

Mina has been constantly going after you again, with a passion to humiliate your whole being. Other Royals have been pulling you aside to ask for updates on Minho’s decision to sign the book, to which you only politely smiled at them and left. Oh, if you could only sneer back at them like they’d been doing to him. But with the little restraint you had left, you remembered that most of the student body didn’t actually know you and Minho were good friends (it was Minho’s idea back in second grade—something about you not getting targeted).

And above all that, you had your parents spamming your mirror phone every hour of the day to remind you about the task they gave you. No matter how many times you told them that Minho would not be changing his mind, they kept on insisting.

"No one would say no to you, Y/N! You’re the next Snow White!" your mother states, as if that would change anything at all. Your eye felt the need to twitch as her reminder. "He won’t. Plus, you’re the one who told me not to befriend him. Now you expect him to go along with what I say?" you reasoned.

"This isn’t a yes or no situation, darling. He has to do it."

No he doesn’t.

"Enough, mom. It won’t happen," you tried to keep your tone as respectful as possible. "I have a class soon; let’s talk some other time."

"Applebun—" you hung up the phone.

Gripping the device tightly, you let your locker close with a bang. Multiple eyes turn in your direction. You gave them an apologetic gesture. Shoot—if you don’t control your emotions soon, it’s going to affect you in class.

"Oh? Did little Snow White just have a tantrum? How disappointing that I missed it," Mina’s shrill voice rang through the halls. Her heels are loudly clicking against the floor, cutting you from your thoughts. She really never misses a beat, huh? It was annoying, but you had to praise her for her consistency.

Pasting on a practiced grin, you faced her. "Good day to you too, Mina. Looks like Hyunjin isn’t with you right now," you commented. "Did he finally get tired of you?"

You fought the urge to snicker as soon as you saw the effect this had on her. With a huff, she replies, "He has something to do right now but will meet me for lunch. Right, did he not tell you? We’re eating lunch together from now on. He doesn’t really want to be seen with you anymore." Oh, a decent insult!

Deciding to keep the retort to yourself, you just shrugged it off nonchalantly. "Good for both of you. Have fun!" you cheerfully responded, before walking past her.

"Wha—you!"

Y/N-1, Mina-0. You mentally counted.

Turning the corner, you spot Minho leaning against the wall, back hunched from silently wheezing. "Seriously," you exhaled, "Why are you suddenly everywhere now?" After finishing his quick laughing fit, he turned to look at you.

"She deserved it," he commented. You stared at him, unamused. "Of course you would think that." You felt a few gazes directed at the two of you.

Right, this might be an odd sight for them.

If you think about it, what's the point of hiding now? Minho won’t sign his fate, so yours might have been changed. So, does that mean you can be friends in public now too? Should you test it out?

"Y/N, are you alright?" Minho worried.

You eyed your surroundings carefully. This could end up badly if you don’t do it correctly. There was a big chance either that Minho’s reputation could worsen, or the Royals would decide to hate you—ah fuck it.

They can go cry about it if they want.

Grabbing his hand, you started leading the both of you down the halls. He looked at you in shock, "Wait, what are you doing?" The Royals, who saw your exchange, left their mouths open like a gaping fish. On the other hand, you noticed the Rebels' eyes light up with interest. Minho also spotted this, but before he could say anything else, you dragged him away faster.

"Don’t mind them. Let’s just head to class. It’s culinary."

And while you felt significantly lighter at that moment from the burden of hiding your relationship with Minho being off your shoulders, the consequences followed up soon after.

By the time the moon said its greetings, your parents had already heard of what happened. Whoever snitched worked fast. But at least you now have the opportunity to tell them the truth about you and Minho.

Your parents’ lectures engulfed the whole room while Minho sat beside you for emotional support. "What are you doing, making friends with the enemy? Do you have any ounce of shame!?" Your father’s booming voice was heard.

Maybe you really don’t have any shame. You were so grateful that they even chose to voice call instead of a video chat—if your parents saw Minho holding your hand beside you whilst glaring at the window in an attempt to still leave respect for them, they would have freaked past no return.

"I knew the school shouldn’t have placed both of you together in one room. Nothing good was ever going to come out of that situation," your mother ranted. Is she really saying that now? She was the one who told you it was natural to be dormmates with Minho back then. Then again, it wasn’t the first time she changed her mind when the result didn't benefit her.

After a short pause, she spoke up again, "What? So you’re not answering now? Oh, honey! That guy is such a bad influence. How did we let this happen?"

Could they not? They talk as if they’ve already met him!

Feeling Minho give your hand a squeeze, you got the courage to speak up. "...You don’t know him. He’s nothing like his mother, so stop saying that," your unsteady voice spoke. Answering back to your parents was never an easy thing for you to do. "Minho’s a great—uh, friend. He helped me realize that there was so much more than just trapping yourself in a predetermined future. I actually—I don’t even want to be Snow White..."

Your parents were silenced by what you had just said. "What do you mean you don’t want to be Snow White? Why not? Your life is already set for you! You’ll marry Hyunjin too—"

"Hyunjin already has a girlfriend. I’m not sure how you two never knew that, but he doesn’t even like me! Like, at all! Good for you that your pairing worked out well, but I’ve tried for years to get him to respect me even as a friend—but it never happened, and probably never will," you desperately explain.

"At this point, I’d rather marry Minho!"

The person mentioned visibly stiffened up beside you, the hand holding yours tightening. You felt your face flush in embarrassment. In the heat of the moment, you blurted out your thoughts carelessly. You hoped this wouldn’t cause a rift in your relationship with him again, because you’re not too sure if you can handle another week of Minho ignoring you.

But you meant what you said.

That’s right. You would rather marry Minho than some ‘ideal prince’ who can’t even treat you like a decent person.

In fact, married life with Minho doesn’t sound bad at all! If anything, you were actually willing to do it if he agreed. It was something you had considered before—a few years back, when you had a massive crush on him. Perhaps the crush never even went away like you had thought. You might have just gotten used to him to the point that what you felt evolved from just a crush to comfort and trust. Who could blame you, really? He’s kind, fun, knows you well, can cook, and is even handsome. He could easily be one of the top Prince Charmings in this school if given the chance.

"I know you just want the best for me—or even if you don't, I can’t find myself caring anymore. But basically, what I think is best for me is not marrying Hyunjin, or being Snow White," you spoke. "I’m already eighteen. Can I please have the chance to choose for myself? Minho won’t sign the Book of Legends either way, so my story might not even turn out the same."

"Choose your own destiny? You already have a good one—"

"Honey," your mother interjects, "It's a scary world out there. There will be lots of people who want to hurt you!"

You sigh, "Yes, Mom, I know. And I’ll figure something out along the way. But can’t you stop to think that maybe those same people didn’t have any other choice because they were bound to the fate they signed? They deserved the right to choose who they truly wanted to be too."

There was the sound of shifting from the other line. You knew your parents would be hard to convince, but it was worth a shot. This was for the better. It would be great if they managed to spread awareness to the older generation as well.

"Your father and I will think about it," you hear your mother cough. Hope sparked inside you. "Thank you, Mom."

"Sure, sweetie. Talk to you soon."

The line falls flat after that.

Exhausted from the mental gymnastics you had to perform, you immediately melt into Minho’s shoulder. When he doesn’t say anything, you finally realize that he hasn’t moved an inch since you said you’d rather marry him than your assigned prince. "Minho?" you nudged.

He finally snaps out of the trance he trapped himself in, but chooses to stare at you silently. You tilt your head in confusion and ask, "Are you alright?"

"... Marriage?" he squeaked out.

Oh. Does he not like the idea of marrying you?

You sulked. Sure, you weren’t exactly what they called wife material. Growing up as royalty meant you had other people to do things for you. However, you also prided yourself on being a quick learner. If Minho wants someone that knows how to do house chores, then you are more than willing to learn!

He must have noticed your mood going down, because he started panicking. "No—I, uh, didn’t mean it... like that," he reasoned, "I was just caught off guard! People don’t really look at me and think that I’d make a good husband, y’know?"

You slapped his arm harshly. He complained almost instantly at the pain.

"You absolute liar! You’d rival Hyunjin’s rank easily if you were classified as a Prince Charming," you huffed in protest. He turns red at the compliment. Feeling accomplished but wanting to mess with him more, you decided to add: "Don’t sign up for Prince classes though."

Offended, he retorts, "Why not? You just told me I’d be a good prince!"

"I want you to be my prince only," you replied in a casual tone.

Minho’s face burned even brighter.

There was definitely a difference in the way the Royals treated you the next day. Word travels fast, but their attitudes switch up faster. It wasn’t like you really cared. Most of them chose to avoid you completely, while some were very vocal about their newfound hatred towards you.

And as you predicted, Mina was the ringleader of the latter group.

"How interesting, isn’t it, Y/N? Snow White and the Evil King, together?" She approached you at your locker, "Do you have a death wish or something? Or maybe your standards have just fallen so low?"

You didn’t want to waste your words on her, so you preoccupied yourself with fixing your textbooks. It’s no use anyway. Anything you say will just go in one ear and out the other when it comes to her. However, that reaction didn’t seem to satisfy her enough because she poked at you further.

"So we’re right then? Ah, but I must say, you two make such a great couple! Two poor souls who lost their stories. How tragic," you clenched your teeth to avoid accidentally laying a hand on her, because that would just cause unnecessary drama. "You’re still lucky to be alive. I wonder how long it’s going to take before life gives up on both of you—either way, it looks like fate already did."

You slammed your locker closed, making a startling noise. Mina jumped at your actions before quickly composing herself to appear more confident. You’ve had enough of her antics.

"Did anyone ever tell you how annoying your voice is? No? Oh, well. Can you just do us all a favor and shut up? You never even say anything important, so just save your breath for something that’s actually worth it."

"I’m sorry?"

"Not forgiven. But it’s about time you apologized," you sassed.

Mina’s face flushed with anger. Threateningly raising her arm, she aimed to hit you. "You’re nothing now, Y/N. So learn your place—" you shut your eyes instinctively, waiting for the impact.

As much as you wanted to fight back physically, you were currently at a major disadvantage with the school now that you’ve exposed your friendship with Minho. They’ve most likely classified you as a threat now too. It was better to take the slap and leave Mina with the bigger accountability to deal with.

You waited for it, but the slap never came.

"Mina, you are so pathetic. Do you know that?" A voice you knew very well spoke. "Have some shame and look at your actions, will you. Is all of it worth it?" You opened your eyes.

"Get your hands off my girl, Minho," Hyunjin arrived growling while trying to get in between the two. Minho released the grip he had on Mina’s arm. Scoffing, he responded, "Now you’re here too? Tell us, won't you, Hyunjin? How long will you keep defending her actions? She’s going to end up severely hurting someone if this continues." Hyunjin started shifting uncomfortably.

He should know better than to let this continue. Mina isn’t a notorious bully, but she should learn to be more responsible for her actions. Sooner or later, her attitude might be her greatest downfall. Mina glared hotly at Minho, absolutely livid.

In the midst of the two’s humiliation, you noticed a crowd around the four of you. You were glad to know that they have nothing else to do than eavesdrop on any kind of drama. But before you could speak out to the impromptu audience, a blinding flash suddenly stole all the attention. You spotted Yeri standing in the front of the group, shaking with wide eyes while holding her mirror phone up.

Did she just take a photo?

Quickly realizing the situation, Hyunjin dragged a still fuming Mina away. Minho noticed this and yelled, "Get back here!" You quickly pull him back before he ends up chasing after them. "What—Y/N!"

"Leave it."

"What do you mean leave it—no? They’ve crossed so many lines," he seethed in anger. Seeing the crowd still present, you decide to escape as well. "We’ll deal with it some other time. But first, let’s get out of here."

You found yourself dragging Minho down the hall again like yesterday. Only this time, he was burning with fury. It wasn’t always that you got to witness him being this mad. Normally, he calms down faster than he becomes agitated. You were embarrassed to admit that you found Minho's rage attractive.

The two of you entered the lawns of the school garden, where you decided to stop and let him cool down. Minho was still huffing in quiet anger at the two schoolmates you encountered earlier.

"Stop frowning," you said, pinching his cheeks. Minho growls, not appreciating the gesture. It looks like he’s still in a bad mood. Not wanting to make it worse, you slowly let go of him.

Turns out he did not like that, though, because he quickly catches one of your hands and presses it back to the side of his face. "Why did you not fight back? You handled her so well before." The gesture made your heart swell.

"If my parents are now aware that we’re not actually on bad terms, then the school must be too," you sighed, "Adding the fact that I’ve already told them I don’t want to follow my story, if things escalated to the point where we had to be called in earlier, they’re definitely going to side with Mina."

"Is this about me again? You signed the book; it was me who didn’t—"

"I regret it."

Minho spluttered at your words, "Wait, what?" You avoided his surprised eyes. This was something you hadn’t told him yet. Well, anyone yet—you only came to the conclusion last night while talking to your parents.

"I know you said you didn’t want to be Snow White, but you never said you regretted signing," he says. You hugged your arms, "I never said I really wanted to either. It was just something I thought was a necessity. But now that it’s been proven the whole sign or die thing was a big hoax, I wish I hadn’t."

You looked at Minho, greatly troubled. "Honestly? I’m scared. I know I’ve been saying that since you won’t sign anyway, my story won’t happen the way it was supposed to—but just like everything else, we don’t know if that’s even true too," you bit your lip in distress, "What if fate just replaces your role with another person? Did I really trap myself in a scripted future?"

All the flaws in your previous plan started to surface without mercy. It could work in another timeline, one where Minho had signed the book. But seeing that he hasn’t, what happens to you now? Would the legacy just adjust and take Minho out of it completely? Is that what they actually meant by your story disappearing?

Will you somehow end up forgetting Minho?

The mere thought of that alone terrorizes you. A life without Minho would be meaningless by your standards. He was the person who brought color to your monochrome life of royalty and bettered you as a person. Forgetting him would be equivalent to going back to that way of living.

"Y/N," Minho called out softly. The sea of your thoughts were raging with all sorts of negativity, making his heart ache for you. "Like you said, we’ll find a way even if you sealed your fate, okay? I’ll be here with you every step of the way."

"But what if—"

"None of that," he said firmly. "I’m not leaving you alone, whether you like it or not."

You exhaled, trying to calm yourself. He’s right. The two of you can still be together if you really want to. Fate can just suck it up and deal with it.

Fuck being Snow White anyways.

"I hate apples," you grumbled. Minho laughs at your remark, knowing exactly what you meant. "I know. So you don’t have to be Snow White around me," he cups your face gently.

"Just be my Y/N."

"What do you mean the Book of Legends was stolen!?" A loud yell full of disbelief was heard throughout the entire cafeteria. The whole area went dead silent faster than the prideful hare. You stopped scooping up your food midway, watching as Seungmin and Felix both look at each other with wide eyes.

What?

"Changbin, seriously!" Jeongin’s mortified voice echoed in the quiet room. The students were all frozen in their respective spots, trying to process the information that had just dropped on them. What was supposed to be a normal lunch suddenly transformed into a time of anxiety.

"... Are you for real?" Someone asked the two troublemakers. "This isn’t another prank, right? Cause that’s not a good thing to joke about," they said icily.

The Book of Legends is missing? What madman would have the courage to do such a risky thing? That book is the center of this world—a relic if one must say. To harm it would most likely result in a mass extinction of people!

A crash was heard a few meters from where you sat. Someone had fainted and knocked the whole table over. Multiple people were trying to help the unconscious student out of the mess.

"I—uh, well..." Jeongin started. All eyes were on the guy as he stood there, fidgeting nervously. Deciding to get it over with, he cleared his throat and continued, "I was passing by the Principal’s office and overheard it..."

Cue chaos.

Murmurs of panic covered the whole cafeteria. Everyone was worried about what could possibly happen if the book was ever in the wrong hands.

It was a powerful object that could change lives in an instant. Fate and legacy are strong concepts in this world, after all. They're literally the foundation of your society.

"Is this really happening?" Felix said, looking very queasy. Seungmin scooted away from him instantly. "Control yourself, Felix. You don’t want to puke right now."

"Who could have done it?" You thought out loud, "And why? There’s nothing to gain from taking the book, right? Unless you’re a psychopath who wants to destroy the world."

Seungmin looks at you appalled. "Why are you thinking about mass murder?"

"I don’t know! There’s literally no other reason to steal the book! It’s not as if you can erase the signatures of those who... signed…" A realization hit the three of you.

Felix gasped in shock. "Is that even possible?" He questioned. Seungmin considered the idea. "There’s magic here, Felix. Technically, anything is possible."

"But the worst thing is that it might not even stop there," he added. "There may be a loophole in which you can sign another person’s story and make it yours." The idea concerned you heavily.

Could that actually happen? So then what would happen to the ones who got their original story stolen? Wait, if this is allowed, then that would make the entire concept of having a story assigned at birth useless—you could literally just pick one to sign at Legacy Day!

There must be more to this than you originally thought. And it wasn’t looking too good. "It’s not lining up," you muttered.

"What isn’t?"

"The Book of Legends," you lowered your voice, "I’ve never thought of it like that before, but you might be onto something Seungmin."

Felix gave you a confused look. "Like he said, it really is technically possible for someone to follow another story than theirs. If that’s a thing, then why have an assigned destiny for each one of us in the first place?" You pointed it out to them.

The two were startled by the revelation. You were right. There would be absolutely no need for an assigned fate if anyone could just choose what they wanted—heck, the Book of Legends might not even be needed at all.

The right to choose what future they wanted for themselves has been the main thing the Rebels fought for, and knowing the school was against it (basing off the actions they took against Minho), the same place the Book of Legends was kept and handled, what could this mean for the truth?

The pressing question now is: what exactly is the Book of Legends, and why are we told to follow only those stories that are in the book?

"This is making me doubt everything," Seungmin mumbles. You gulped as you looked at the still fear-stricken cafeteria.

"You should."

Later that night, you found yourself unable to sleep due to the plaguing thoughts from events that unfolded earlier. There had to be an explanation for all this, you thought.

The white ceiling on your side of the room looked very interesting to you at that moment. It was also very useful, seeing as you could make an imaginary conspiracy board on it. You don’t know what time it was currently, but you found yourself unable to care.

A messy rustling of sheets was heard over on Minho’s side of the room. You decided to look over in mere curiosity. Like you, he was also comfortably tucked in bed, staring at the ceiling. It looks like both of you can’t sleep.

"A lot on your mind?" He starts the conversation. You nod against your plush pillows. "Thinking about lunch earlier this day..." Minho hummed at your answer.

"Care to share?"

"I don’t know… I’m not too sure about it yet. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t do me any good," you sighed, exhausted from thinking. You wanted to avoid spreading something that was untrue—and to do that, there were a lot of things you still had to consider carefully. There were sounds of movement coming from Minho’s location. "Do you want to take a breather? You might drown in those thoughts again."

You sat up, glancing over at him. There he was, pulling a warm hoodie over his head. "Where are you going?"

"We. Where are we going," he walks over and throws another hoodie at you. It smelled nice. The scent was from the same soap he used to wash his clothes. You caught yourself smiling unconsciously. Pulling you up from your bed, he grins at you.

"We’re going out."

And that's how you found yourself sliding down a sturdy rope from your dorm balcony to the ground below.

Curfew had already commenced a couple hours ago, which only really hit you once you saw the unfiltered darkness of the night. You could clearly hear the crickets loudly chirping around you—something you didn’t get to hear that often because of the soundproofing spell cast on the school’s walls.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," you squealed joyfully, enjoying the feeling of thrill. In your peripheral vision, you saw the tips of Minho’s own lips twitch upwards.

Light footsteps from the two of you permeated the area as he led you towards the entrance of the forest near the dorm building. "Is this the first time you’ve snuck out?" He asks at a low volume, trying to avoid the threat of getting caught.

"Yes," you reply. "I've never had the chance to do it before. Have you?"

He chuckles at you. "Plenty. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed how I sneak out at night sometimes." You blinked at his confession. Racking your brain for any memories of Minho mysteriously disappearing in the cold hours of the night, you came up with nothing. "No?"

"It's probably because you're already asleep when I leave," he says as he leads you two down a narrow path. The area you were heading to must be surrounded by trees, somewhere deep in the small forest. "Why have you never invited me?" You approached him with your complaint.

"Again, you were literally dead asleep."

"Just wake me up. I’ll catch up with a nap after getting poisoned," you joked. Minho clicks his tongue at the reminder. "Not happening. Ever."

Seeing his face twist grumpily, you poked at his side. Minho pushes your hand away, feeling ticklish.

After another minute of walking, you finally reached a large clearing. Minho stepped aside to give you a good view, as if proudly presenting the location. You gasp, amazed at the sight before you.

It was a big lake, something you never thought of the school having before.

The scenery was beautifully surrounded by large bushy trees, forming a wall-like barrier around the body of water. That must be why it wasn’t easily seen from the outside. You noticed that the trees had a blue-ish glow, a result of the moonlight bouncing off the lake’s water. It helped give off a peaceful ambience, one where you could feel your worries dissolving in the chilly night.

You look around in wonder. "I didn’t know they had a lake here!" Minho heads over closer towards the lake’s shore to sit. You sped up when he called you over.

"I found this back in third grade," he explains while picking up a rock near him. "It wasn’t on the school map, so I was surprised to see it too."

The water was certainly not lacking in appeal either. It was so crystal clear that you could see all the different kinds of rocks littered underneath it. As you looked further, you realized the lake was quite deep in the middle because you couldn’t see its floor anymore.

"This place is very therapeutic, huh?"

Minho examined the rocks he was holding and responded, "Yeah. I come here to relax whenever I’m really stressed." He stood up and threw one of the rocks towards the water. You both watched as it skipped a few times before sinking. "I actually went here after the Legacy Day event."

Right. That must’ve been after your fight.

You let a comfortable silence take over your conversation, simply enjoying the company of one another. In the span of a few weeks, a lot has happened to the two of you. From misunderstandings that led to a fight, to making up and thinking about the future—you could say that those events really helped your change as a person, even in a short amount of time.

But there was another thing that bothered you at the present.

"What do you think about what happened to the book?" You asked Minho. He continued skipping rocks. "You mean the Book of Legends?"

"Yeah."

"Shocking," he chuckled. "I never thought someone would ever have the balls to do such a stupid thing."

Stupid was one way to say it. The Book of Legends was a highly secured item that only a select few people had access to. For someone to get past security, they had to be really stealthy to the point where you couldn’t notice them—that or not be classified as a threat.

"Why do you think they did it?"

Minho shrugs. "Maybe as a prank. I mean, what else can you really do with that book anyway?" He turned around to face you and asked, "Why?"

Should you tell him? It’s not even a confirmed theory, and there was a chance that you couldn’t actually erase the signatures, let alone steal another person’s story. However, Minho was someone who knew magic very well and could be a useful source of information.

"Me, Seungmin, and Felix were talking about it at lunch and thought that maybe there was a way to remove a signature from a signed story, or steal it as your own?" Minho dropped the remaining rocks.

"Wait, are you serious?"

You bit your lip. "It’s not yet confirmed, but Seungmin said it could be possible. We have magic and all that. As a magic user though, do you think it's possible?"

He thinks about it carefully. Magic was a complicated subject to dive into because it has so many layers. And because of that, Seungmin was correct that anything could be done technically with the help of magic.

"It... might be a thing," Minho considers. "It’s quite a possibility. This is really bad though, because it would mean the book being stolen could potentially cause major damage to our world." With his insight, the situation becomes so much more frightening to think about the outcome.

Is that what the person who stole the book planned to do?

"That book is causing so many problems," he sighs tiredly. You had to agree with him. The Book of Legends has literally been the source of most of your problems, especially knowing that the way your world works is because of the stories within it.

Minho sat back down beside you. "I wish that thing just never existed," you muttered under your breath. He stares at you, amazed at what he had just heard.

"Your way of thinking has really changed."

"How could I not?" You said, feeling agitated. "There’s a ton of stuff that doesn’t make sense in the beliefs I had before. I’m kind of ashamed that I’ve only noticed it recently."

Minho pinches your cheek. "It’s never too late," he teased. "At least you’re willing to admit your shortcomings. I like that about you."

"Don’t fall for me too much," you joked. When he didn't retort, you glanced at him. However, instead of the annoyed reaction you expected, he was giving you a soft look.

"What if I already did?"

Your brain immediately short-circuited. Wait, he does? Does Minho actually like you? This isn’t a dream, right? Maybe you fell asleep earlier, and this was just your brain playing tricks on you—

"It’s real, Y/N," he pulls you out of your doubts. "Don’t be pressured to give me an answer. It’s fine if you just see me as a friend." You catch the tips of his ears turning red.

Oh God, you think you’re going to pass out.

This was Minho. Your partner in crime, Minho. The ideal man of your dreams, Minho. Once upon a time, you had a massive crush on him, Minho. And here he was telling you he liked you? Like, romantically? What can you even say to that?

If only your parents could see you two now. You’d love to rub it in their faces that he turned out to be so much better than Hyunjin.

At your extended silence, Minho looked away. He looks really embarrassed, so you decided to end his suffering.

"I did also have a crush on you a few years back," you admitted shyly. He snaps his head towards you. "A few years back? What about now?" He asked.

You shrugged, trying to mess with him. "I don’t know," you replied. He dramatically wilts at your words. At his endearing reaction, you couldn’t help but break the act. "But I’m willing to try."

His soul comes back to him at the snap of a finger. "Really? Are you for sure?" He giddily looks for your confirmation. When you nodded at him with a smile, he almost jumped from joy. "I could literally kiss you right now," he announces, feeling breathless.

"Do it."

You didn’t have to tell him twice. It was like living fifteen-year-old you’s greatest dream, except this time, you were actually going to kiss Minho. The peaceful vibe of the area turned romantic as the two of you got closer. But just when you were about to close the gap, a movement in the woods caught your eye.

"Jisung?"

"Are you really saying someone else’s name while you’re about to kiss me?" Minho says, dumbfounded. You hastily waved your hands in denial. "No! I mean that it’s literally Jisung!" You pointed behind him.

Once Minho turned towards the direction you told him, the two of you saw Jisung, frozen in his tracks. You looked at him, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uhm... What are you doing here too?" He squeaks out, sounding frightened.

Jisung was trembling like someone had just caught him in the act of doing something illegal. Something you didn’t understand because he’s literally the one who caught you and Minho almost kissing.

"Are you—" The words you were about to say dried up completely after your eyes traveled down to the object he was currently clutching with his whole strength. Hold on.

Is that the Book of Legends?

You choked on air. "Did—were you the one—" Your eyes stayed fixed on the supposedly missing book. Jisung panics and quickly hides it behind his back, as if that would erase both yours and Minho’s memory of ever seeing it on his hands. Minho abruptly stood up.

"Jisung, what have you done?" He stepped forward, scaring the poor guy even more. "Do you even know how big of a deal this is?"

Then, the unexpected happens.

"And what if I do!?" Jisung snaps.

You were taken aback. This was a side of him you’ve never seen before. Well, the two of you aren’t exactly close friends, but you’ve always seen Jisung as having a cheerful personality. The case of him getting angry, let alone annoyed, seems so foreign to you. Minho's eyes narrowed at him.

"...Please tell us you aren't planning something bad," he slowly said, attempting to approach Jisung. But the latter takes a few steps back.

"This book is a curse!" Jisung reasons, pointing at the book. He looks at it with such hatred that you never thought would be possible to come from him. "Don't you see it? Everyone is getting torn apart just because of this damned book! The school is a mess, my friends are all fighting, and the person I like won’t even give us a chance, all because of this—this thing!"

It was as clear as the lake's water that Jisung was hurting. You could see the unshed tears piling up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He was determined to get his point across: the book had to be disposed of. And he was the martyr; volunteering to do it himself.

"Jisung, just think for a moment—"

"How easy for you to say, Minho!" He scoffed in disdain. "You haven’t signed yet. You’re still free to do everything you want without anything tying you down—"

"And that almost cost me my life!" Minho reminds him. "If the saying was true, I wouldn’t even be here talking to you right now, Jisung."

You decided to speak too, "Jisung, please. We don’t know the extent of the importance that book holds. It could literally end up destroying the world in the worst case scenario."

He looks at you in disbelief, not believing his own ears at what you had said.

"Why are you even defending it? I know you don’t like your story either, Y/N. If we just get rid of it, then we can be free," Jisung appeals, trying to get you on his side. You shook your head. He was a bit too far gone. "Jisung, we could literally die."

"I know, okay!?" He wails. "But I’ve gotten this far already. This isn’t something I can just undo!" Jisung falls roughly to the floor, greatly distressed.

His desperation was evident in his sobs. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Jisung was Hyunjin’s best friend, as well as his roommate—but Jisung was also close to Changbin and Jeongin. The whole Rebel and Royals thing must have been devastating for him. He was also one of the people who signed the book before Minho’s outburst back on Legacy Day. Something you knew he only did because there was no other choice, just like what happened to you. Jisung also had the ability to turn into a frog at will, a trait that evolved for the line of the Frog Prince. He must’ve snuck through security as one to reach the chamber they placed the book in. How he got through the magic barriers, though, was beyond you. But that didn’t matter at the moment.

Minho walks over and grabs Jisung’s shoulder, lightly squeezing it. "You can still return it... We won’t tell on you as long as you don’t get caught," Minho turns to you. "Just promise us you’ll return it, okay?" You nod your head in agreement. Jisung manages a confirmation through his sniffles.

"Let’s head back. You can return it early in the morning, Jisung."

A loud bang abruptly woke you and Minho up. Feeling distraught, you sat up to find the source of the disturbance. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but what you saw was not what you expected at all.

"Did you seriously sleep in one bed?" Hyunjin asks, looking at the two of you. "And you called me and Mina bad."

What the hell was he doing here?

Like reading your mind, Minho pulls you back towards his chest. "What the hell are you doing here?" He sleepily glares at the intruder.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at Minho’s reaction. Instead of finally leaving, he shuts the door he flew open and sits on your sofa. You and Minho watched as he made himself comfortable, completely ignoring both of you in your current intimate position. Hyunjin stares back, unamused.

"So I can’t be comfy too? Have some hospitality, geez."

You pinched your nose bridge before asking, "So? What’s your business here?" Hyunjin had a visible lightbulb moment. Is he serious—

"I have news!" He announces. "About the Book of Legends."

You light up. "Oh! Did Jisung manage to return it—" Minho clasped a hand over your mouth to shut you up. Fuck, you forgot that Hyunjin might not be aware. You both eyed him awkwardly, looking for a way to cover up your mistake. Hyunjin snorts at the comical scene.

"Don’t worry, I already know. I helped him return it earlier."

You let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God. I thought Jisung was toast now." Hyunjin grabbed a sofa pillow to hug. Is he planning to stay here or what? "Do you have anything else to say—"

"It’s fake."

Minho, who finally came out of his sleepy spell, gave Hyunjin a confused look. "What’s fake?" The former pursed his lips, obviously conflicted about what he was about to say.

"The Book of Legends is fake."

Did Jisung steal a dummy? Wait, does this mean he got caught? You are now alarmed at the possible indication. "Is Jisung okay?"

To your relief, Hyunjin confirmed that the other prince was indeed safe. You don’t know what you would do if he was ever found out to be the one who attempted to steal the Book of Legends. That was a crime worth getting expelled and imprisoned for, even worse than Minho disrupting this year’s Legacy Day event.

"How’d you find out it was fake?" Minho asked.

"We were passing by the principal’s office after returning the book to the chamber. The door was slightly open, and we heard him ordering another to this person over the phone. At first we thought it was for a dummy until the actual one was back, but it turns out the book wasn’t even this all-powerful relic! It’s literally just an enchanted book to make those fancy visuals—"

"Hold on, you mean the whole concept of the Book of Legends is fake? Not just the one Jisung stole?" You yelled at the unexpected revelation. "Then what the fuck is the Book of Legends for then?"

Hyunjin looked shocked. "You curse?"

"Answer me!"

He raised his hand up when you attempted to launch at him. Minho quickly held you back. "Calm down, woman. And you ask me why I don’t want to marry you." Minho gave him a pointed look.

"Let’s not go there right now."

"No need to get all possessive on me, loverboy. I have no plans to take her away." Hyunjin tells Minho. The latter only snarls sourly. "You better not."

"Hello? Are we just going to brush off that the Book of Legends isn’t true?"

Hyunjin retorts, "It’s real. Just not in the way we believed it was. It’s literally just a book filled with stories enchanted with magic to make it look fancy." You stared daggers at him.

"Get Jisung. You’re so useless."

He whined. "It’s not my fault! I don’t know much else other than that either! Jisung went straight to Yeri to see if she could post the news. We’re hoping to get the issue investigated professionally."

"How are you so sure they aren’t in on this too? Maybe we’ve been living under the control of the officials for so long!" Minho stroked your hair, in an attempt to calm you down. "Isn't that the point of a government?" shrugs Hyunjin.

You threw a pillow at him.

"Can you not!?" He shrieked. Minho groaned at the chaotic scene. "Thank you for the news, Hyunjin, but this could really wait until lunch or something," he locked you in place so that you wouldn’t attack the poor guy any more, "Unless you have anything else you want to say?"

Hyunjin went silent. He placed the pillow back to rest on the sofa, and sat properly. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke.

"I wanted to say sorry to Y/N," he admits. "There isn’t an explanation I can give you for why I treated you the way I did other than I was immature and hated the idea of not being able to choose who I married—which is a bad excuse because it’s not like you liked that either. Compared to the two of us, you treated me much better than I did to you, even if we were in the same boat." You blinked.

"I’m working on myself, and Mina is too. So I hope you can forgive us someday. You don’t have to like us, though. We'd understand that much."

Well, this was unexpected. Hyunjin and Mina weren’t total bullies, but they still had a hand in the multiple times you were hurt. It would be hard to forget, but you think you could manage to forgive them in the near future at the very least. If they were willing to change, that was enough for you.

"I’ll think about it," you replied to him. The simple positive response was enough to make him smile. "Thanks."

Hyunjin stood up and headed towards the door. "I’ll leave you two lovebirds now. School starts in two hours, by the way. Might as well get ready; there’s bound to be lots of people in the cafeteria soon," he bids, closing the door not long after.

You lay back down, covering yourself with the blanket. Minho laughs and joins you.

"Thirty more minutes."

A day after the shocking truth of the Book of Legends came out on Yeri’s blog, an investigation was launched into the case. And just a mere two days after that, Jisung and Hyunjin’s finding was confirmed—which appalled the whole realm.

It turns out, there was so much more to the fake Book of Legends. Storybook High’s current principal comes from a long line of people who were all high-ranking officials in this world. It was also from this family that the concept of stories was traced back to: the Grimm Family. After careful investigation, they found out that one of their first ancestors responsible for the stories was a very ambitious writer, who wished for his works to come to life. With the help of his older brother, who was a strong magic user, he learned magic with his goals in mind. And with the magic he had gained, he made the legitimate Book of Legends.

It was a book containing all of his stories, with different parts dedicated to all of the characters. But there was a curse embedded into the book; if one signed a character’s story, they would end up living the same life as them.

Satisfied with his work, the Grimm ancestor went around towns, trying to find people to trick into signing the pages under the guise that it meant they liked the story. As one could have probably guessed by now, you were the generations that came after those victims.

That didn’t mean your Book of Legends had the same curse, though.

Apparently, the original book has long since disappeared, only really affecting the first generation of those who signed it. The Grimm ancestor did not live long enough to make another one for his victims’ offspring, though, and in an effort to save their father’s work, his children vowed to continue the stories no matter what—which was still the Grimm Family’s main goal in the current time.

The truth wasn’t uncovered earlier because the Grimm Family quickly took over the world’s power positions and buried the information—making it only accessible to those in on the plan. Following this, they also found out that the current Grimm governing the school had a brother who they locked up in prison wrongfully because he opposed their family’s plans.

What a ride.

"This is so messed up," Chan gasped from across the table, setting down his mirror phone that had the news displayed. "I knew it was sketchy, but not this sketchy!" Felix agrees with him, reaching over Seungmin’s tray to grab his brownie.

Yours and Minho’s friend group (plus Hyunjin and Jisung, who were connected to Changbin) were currently seated at one table, eating their respective lunches. The full result of the investigation just came out earlier this morning, and many were still processing the bomb that just dropped.

"It’s great to know we’ve been living a lie all along," Jeongin chirps sarcastically. Jisung smiled at the group. "But at least now they've abolished it, right? We’re all free now!"

Oh, that was another thing that happened. After the arrest of the remaining Grimm Family members that were involved with the scheme, the new officials completely tore the "follow your story" concept apart and encouraged everyone to write their own destinies. As a result, many of those who heavily sided with the Royals division apologized for their actions and were now working to improve themselves.

"Took them long enough," Minho said, placing an apple on your tray. You pinched his arm. "Ouch!" Seungmin had the audacity to look disgusted.

"Can you two flirt somewhere else?"

"Fine," Minho said, standing up and dragging you along. Gagging noises were heard from the table as the two of you left. You laughed, very amused at their reactions. When Minho stops the both of you in an empty corridor, you joked, "Why do we always end up in a hallway?"

He chuckles at your comment. "Who knows," he stepped closer, "But I know I haven’t gotten that kiss yet." You rolled your eyes at his suggestion. "I can’t believe we ended up together. We're literally supposed to be enemies," you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Minho snickers. "That’s only written on paper anyway," he leans forward.

"Paper can easily be torn."

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kookiecrumb · 4 years ago

Text

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

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5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

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