#this has to stop vs this will never end
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kaolincrush · 1 year ago
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just thinking about how after their splitting apart into two separate beings isolde realizes that everything they've done is wrong and they must atone while guinevere becomes all the more certain that everything they've done is right and she must carry the torch, and i'm so normal. splintered by the same event in massively different ways. it's fine 🥴
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tortoise-teapot · 7 months ago
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ahhhh the relief i just felt after deciding avery convinces the veilguard crew that the veil's gotta go (if for no other reason than besides it's the practical, prudent thing to do given its state and nature)(lol and lmao at 'veilguard') and they all figure it out amicably (or at least nonviolently) while facing the larger threat and solas helps clean up the south (after putting up like one million more wards around the black city) and then when the dust has settled he and avery go soothe the blight tesseract thing (takes a few centuries) and then-- ok i'll stop
is it as high tension as the narrative in canon? nope! but it felt like getting in a warm bath
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#personal log#meddle boys#veilguard spoilers#i'm sorry for all the ocposting i think im losing my mind#the only other option is avery ko's solas before he can bind himself then does it himself jdhdkdj#i mean take it down#not bind himself god jdhskdj avery would never#sorry no way in hell avery is ever letting him do something that fucking stupid#he is in no state to make a decision like that in that moment#veilguard ending is too final my meddle boys have meddling to do yet#them vs the industrial revolution has been very fun to play with#VHENAN WHY ARE YOU SENDING ME TELEGRAMS STOP WE CAN TALK IN THE FADE TONIGHT STOP WE DON'T HAVE TO SPEND OUR COIN ON THIS STOP#IT'S FUN STOP#shsgjshdh they run out of God Money and have to get jobs kshshdkdh#avery is SUCH a tech yuppie jdhdjdh catch him with the latest iPhonograph#dorian pavus XII: yeah my two weird uncles came free with my birthright#that sounds weird. dorian and the amatus adopted#.... yall don't even want to know how far into the future these two go. i'm pushing star trek au territory#solas is in science avery is in command--#avery outranks solas significantly and solas wouldn't have it any other way#'vhenan people are trying to ask me favors to convince u of things again'#'well what are they'#'....ensign schmidt wants thursday off.'#'that can be arranged'#this couple is old. old as balls#i think they would break ds9 if i popped them in there even tho they fit... perfectly...#i think they would have more fun out in the delta quadrant#that's where they get picked up lmao hell yeah janeway would recruit them#WAIT LMAO JDHDJ solas&avery: is it just me or does our captain sound just like flemeth.....#they got no magic outside of thedas tho :(
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chainsawworld · 3 months ago
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Thinking about jason my friend jason I fucking love this guy he is just completely unstoppable when he decides to be my guy knows what he wants to do and he does it. Respect.
#gamer txt.#my guy has a kill count well into the hundreds#past even 150 i think#that fucking rocks#part 2 to 4 all take place within like a week jasey boy just does not stop if there is a person in his vicinity they are dying#part 6 again he just kills everyone he can in his vicinity the second he wakes up. respect#part 7 it has been like 7 years but hes up and at it again fuck those kids#part 8 i think its only been a year this time fuck those kids#part 9 isss 5 uears later i think i think? jason is on a mission this time to specifically a female family member of his#but this does not stop him from killing everyone else in his general vicinity. fuck em#freddy vs jason happens like a few months later my man does not even spend a full year in hell hes too cool for that#he goes to springwood and fucks up those kids and then freddy#jason x they have a whole facility to contain him and he still manages to kill 6 people in there fuck yes#and then he kills almost 20 more on a spaceship 500 years in the future whilst having no clue whats happening but he doesnt need to.#there are people in his general vicinity. he is going to kill them. respect#i know people will say freddy is more dangerous and i agree in some aspects he absolutely is#but he will never and can never be just as fucking scary and unstoppable as jason is#freddy schemes and plans to kill this group of people like every year or so he can add to this group if need be and they end up killing him#hes a concept so it doesnt work but it does still take him about a year to get back to it#and hes going for specific people#if freddy holds no particular grudges and isnt bored he doesn't kill and if the only people who know about him are on hypnocil he Cant kill#jason ways finds some way to come back and then he just fucking goes#he goes after specific people sometimes yeah and he can get a bit tunnel vision about it but he also just fucking goes#theres nothing you can do to stop this man from killing everyone he can get his hands on#you can try. and it might delay the inevitable for a few years but the second hes up and he will be back up hes back at it#i cannot even begin to detail fully how much of a legend jason is#i love freddy too bjt for very different reasons i love his pettiness and open sadistic glee at killing people#but jason is just like a force of nature at this point he is dedicated he knows what hes doing and he has fun with it#fucking love this guy
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skitskatdacat63 · 2 years ago
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Boy King Seb :D
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#thank you to Grace for the idea of making his chivarly collar red bull instead <33333#he was gonna have both collars but then making that one made me suffer so no not today#this was a lot of fun but also made me suffer. but i keep looking at it and being like AAAHHHHH BABY!!! BABY BOY!!!!!!!#can you believe i tried to do this in one night? i cant#i stopped and came back to it and was like 'no way you could do this in one sitting at 1 am'#this is kinda the ascended form of that very first sketch i made for this au! concentrated boy king sebby!!!#i say to myself i need to take a break from drawing complicated things but youll prob see a nando version of this in less than a week ;;;#okay about the drawing(i wrote good tags and then tumblr deleted them so these are a bit inferior AGH):#this is typical pouty seb but is also referenced off a specific pic from AD 2009(beloved)#its very important to me how emotionally open Seb is. im not sure the specific context of this. maybe after a triumph?#but instead of being that typical stoic serious detached kind of ruler; i like him being openly emotional(think AD 2010)#its important as well for his dichotomy with nando and how they choose to portray themselves#seb is very assured in himself and his rule vs. nando who is more insecure and bitter about his#so nando takes strides to portray himself in that more stoic calculating way bcs he feels like it helps him legitimize himself better#whereas seb has absolutely no care for outward public image and shows how he feels and is loved for it(nando hates it but loves it)#not that nando cant be fun and whimsical!! but to me he always seems a bit more mysterious; like i can never tell his true thoughts tbh#anyways i feel like ill finish 10 more drawings before i end up posting the lore pt 2 LMAO#its just a lot harder to organize and layout compared to part 1 which was just an explanation#pt2 would be a mix of more world building/characterization/anecdotes ive talked about with mutuals(LOVE YOU GUYS!!!)#i have a *lot* of ideas (gotta whip out my notes app every once in a while to write down stuff abt it) just hard to put into a coherent pos#sebastian vettel#f1#formula 1#f1 art#formula 1 art#f1 fanart#formula 1 fanart#catie.art.#*ill prob make a process post later if anyone is curious!! its fun to write abt my process and influences and such#boy king au
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seratlantisite · 2 years ago
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mass effect 3 is fantastic specifically because every plot point in it is a thread from the first two games. they weave together in incredible, creative, hard hitting ways that leave you gutted but my god is it satisfying to see everything pay off
which is why the starchild thing is so bad
who the fuck is this kid get him out of here
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hauntingblue · 8 months ago
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WE STILL GOT ARCANEEEEE
#ambessa saying mel is safer as their enemy..... OOF we are going to get her side of the story this season#one thing i dont like is that they are really hauling ass in the first episode like damn. cait and vi are too quickly on the way to raid imo#i cannot velieve my fucking eyes..... vi dropping her gauntlets to keep kissing akdhaksjsk and OF COURSE cait is the one to do it OF COURSE!#were is thay gif of the butch watching football and raising her fist bc they scored that is me right now aldjsksnsl#vi saying please dont change bc she is seeing the signs is so AJDHAKSJK the break up will end lives..... i see why vi becomes an alcoholic#salo and cait wlw mlm hostility for reals#ambessa seeing cait as a rival the second she does her job and uses her military power.... yeah bc she has a real goal not just power grab#jayce fucking up vi and cait by messing with the arcane omg they are IN DANGER!!! JAYCE STOP FUCKING UUUP!!!!#OH MY GOD CAITLYN!!!!! HITTING VI ENOUGH FOR HER TO CRY OH MY GOOOOOD!!!#THERE IS JUST SO MUCH AKDJSKSKAL THE CHILD!!!! JINX GOT A NEW SISTER NOW VI GOODBYE#also vi wasnt going to kill her and jinx told the child to stop.... the only person there willing was cait and look at her.....#also sevika vs cait.... oof.... and jinx fighting vi BARE FISTED!!! GIRL!!!!#what can i fucking say like god.... “is her blood through your veins” “i thought you were different”#jinx is right i hope they got to you know before all of this akdjaksjsk.... christ#also amazing how vi told cait to don't change and she did it 10 minutes later.... girl you are in for it...#i think they just dont understand each other yet but they are in such a situation that they keep changing every 2 minutes so they never do#does that make sense loke ofc cait changed when her mother died and vi did too bc she accepted that her sister was gone#so in a way cait changed and vi stayed the same.... cait liked her “change” but vi did not like cait#ambessa bringing caitlyn to.be a general oh my gooooood her stress is going to get thru the roof like she doesn't have enough to deal with#its bc she knows she can control her... of course she offered her army to her.... and she doesn't mind putting her in danger#AND SHE DID ORCHESTRATE THE ATTACK!!!! OOOF#MEL PLEASEEEE TALK TO CAITLYN PLEASEEEE#like of course she disappears RIGHT NOW!!!#my god... also vis drinking buddy has left too.... of course.... you're good man....#talking tag#watching arcane#watching arcane season 2
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mo-ok · 1 year ago
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omg guys its just like the inciting incident in episode one
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bulletbilltime · 4 months ago
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Whoever decided to use This Is What Remains by Some Are Lonely to soundtrack an extremely depressing ending to a LiS fic... know that you have caused untold emotional damage and I keep returning to that song and imagining extremely depressing scenarios with blorbos because of you. This is what you have done to me /lh
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wonsiwon · 1 month ago
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a crown between us. y.jw
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synopsis: in the halls of the palace, where secrets are dressed in silk and love is the greatest betrayal, a maid finds herself caught in a dangerous entanglement with the crown prince, jungwon. though bound by duty and royalty, their stolen glances and whispered promises bloom into something neither can escape. but when the queen announces his arranged marriage, everything shatters.
pairing: prince! heir to future throne! jungwon x maid! reader
genre: historical royal romance, angst, forbidden love, smut
content warning: forbidden love, royalty vs. heart, emotional betrayal, class divide, political manipulation, dramatic confrontations, sacrifice, smut.
a/n: hii, i was finally able to upload this small project on which i have been working for several weeks (maybe months). i often run out of ideas or have a mental block to continue writing, so it usually takes me a few days for that inspiration to come back with more ideas. i want to clarify that I tried as much as I could and tried as much as possible that the dialogues had that style of royalty, noble, old-fashioned or dramatic. i hope you enjoy this it really took me long time and I hope you at least like it a little.
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i. the garden kiss
your plans that night were simple. finish polishing the candelabras in the east wing, drop off the basket of white linens in the laundry, and finally retreat to your quarters to rest. nothing unusual. nothing that hinted you’d end up with the prince’s lips pressed against yours, hidden behind a bush covered in blooming hydrangeas.
but here you are.
your heart racing, his highness’s fingers barely resting on your waist like even the slightest touch might shatter you. his breath is warm, scented faintly with jasmine tea and unsaid promises, and his eyes… those eyes that never stop looking at you like you’re the most treasured secret in the kingdom.
“milady…” he whispers, pulling back just slightly, his fingers still on your cheek. “do you know how long i’ve longed for this?”
you can hardly answer. because even though it’s been weeks of sneaking off to see him, you’re still not used to how it feels to be kissed by a prince, the prince jungwon, who looks at you like you’re anything but just a servant.
your dress hem is dusty with soil, your hands still a little rough from the day’s work, and your hair is poorly tied with a frayed ribbon. but he never seems to care. he never has.
“my lord… if we’re caught…”
his brow furrowed. just a little. that gesture he made whenever something bothered him, even though he tried not to show it.
“milady…” he says, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i don’t care if we get caught. i couldn’t find you all morning. where were you?”
your hands tremble slightly at how close he is, how being with him like this feels both terrifying and perfect.
“i was… working.” you whisper, eyes falling to the flowers near your feet. it’s hard to look at him when he speaks with that kind of gentleness. “as i’m supposed to.”
he lets out a soft sigh, low and quiet. then his hand lifts to your face, tilting your chin with such delicate care that your breath hitches in your throat. his touch is gentle, too gentle for someone of his status. a prince shouldn’t touch a servant like that.
“working?” he repeats, raising a brow. “don’t you know that seeing you is far more important than any royal duty?”
he makes a dramatic little face, pretending to be offended, but his eyes sparkle with softness. his thumb gently brushes your cheek, and that stupidly charming smile of his doesn’t budge.
“i was about to launch a kingdom-wide search. or worse… interrogate every guard in the castle. do you know how bad that would look in the official records?”
you giggle softly, shaking your head, heat blooming on your cheeks.
“you missed me that much?”
“that much?” he echoes, smirking. “i almost wrote you a tragic letter and slipped it under your pillow. in golden ink, of course. signed: his royal highness, the hopelessly desperate prince.”
you cover your face with both hands, laughing while he leans closer, clearly proud of himself.
“what was the letter going to say?” you ask peeking your eyes through your fingers.
“something like… ‘my heart beats only for you, my radiant flower from the northern wing of the castle.’” he says, lowering his voice with mock seriousness, pressing his forehead against yours. “though… i still have time to write it. maybe it’ll convince you to sneak off with me more often.”
you bite your lip, heart fluttering like crazy. “you’re ridiculous.”
“and you’re enchanting, milady.” he says without missing a beat, whispering so close you can almost feel the smile on his lips. “now give me five more minutes before duty drags you away again, will you?
“actually… “you murmur, glancing toward the dark path. “i’m done for the day. i was on my way to my quarters.”
“to sleep?” he asks, with a look of mild betrayal, like you just insulted him.
you nod, a bit amused, and he immediately steps ahead, subtly blocking your way like it’s a royal obligation.
“milady, i’m afraid i cannot allow that.”
“excuse me?” you raise a brow, trying not to laugh.
“i spent the whole morning without seeing you.” he says, bowing dramatically like he’s putting on a show. “and now you want to simply… go to sleep? without letting me steal at least a few smiles?”
“jungwon…”
“yes, milady?” he responds with that face. that impossibly sweet, infuriatingly charming face.
he takes your hand and gently lifts it to his lips without breaking eye contact. his mouth brushes over your knuckles in the softest kiss imaginable, warm and lingering.
“just five minutes.” he whispers. “i’ll let you go after. though… i can’t promise i won’t steal one more kiss first.”
“just one…” you say, lifting a finger.
“one very long one.” he corrects with a mischievous grin, and before you can protest, he’s already pulling you in, his nose brushing yours, his voice soft enough to make your knees go weak. “i can’t help it, milady. there’s something about you that makes me want to break every rule in the kingdom.”
you fall silent, heart thudding faster than any royal horse could gallop. he leans in a little closer, and just when you think he’s about to kiss you, he murmurs.
“besides… i can’t let you go to sleep without wishing you sweet dreams”
“you’re going to wish me sweet dreams with your lips?” you ask, trying not to giggle. you bite your lip, and of course he notices, he always does. his eyes drop to your mouth, and he smiles again.
“of course.”
and then he does. it’s a soft kiss, sweet, so tender it feels like it was stolen out of a fairytale. and in that moment, you forget the castle walls, the titles, the fact that he’s the crown prince and you’re just a servant.
because right there, between bushes and whispers, he’s just jungwon. your jungwon.
after your encounter with the prince you made your way to the shared servants quarters, tucked away in the quieter wing of the castle. far from the golden halls and polished staircases that royalty walked. your room was small, simple, and lit by a few flickering candles. stone walls surrounded you, cold and silent, but the soft glow and warmth of your friendship with gisselle made it feel almost safe.
the candles were still lit, though dim, their wax spilling over the edges of their holders, pooling like forgotten time. the room was quiet, save for the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath your bare feet. your nightgown brushed against your ankles as you opened the door slowly, breath still uneven.
as soon as you stepped inside, gisselle sat up in her bed, eyes wide.
“finally!” she whispered sharply, sheets rustling as she motioned for you to come closer. “i was about to sneak out and find you. where on earth have you been?”
you closed the door gently and padded across the floor, not to your bed, but to hers. you dropped to your knees beside it, heart thumping, face flushed.
“i saw him, gisselle.” you whispered, breathless.
she clutched your arm immediately, her eyes even wider now.
“was it him? the prince?” she nearly gasped, then caught herself and slapped a hand over her mouth. “good god, what if someone had seen you?”
“no one did. i ran into him on my way back to the quarters. he came to see me.”
“oh my—” gisselle fell back onto her pillow, clutching it to her chest. “tell me, was it tender? did he call you milady?”
your heart skipped at the memory, his voice so gentle, like you were something delicate in his hands.
“yes..” you whispered, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “he called me milady. and… it was like a dream, gisselle. i don’t know how to explain it. everything just felt… perfect.”
her eyes sparkled with excitement. she leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper, like she feared the walls might lean in too.
“i can’t believe it. you’re really living a fairytale.” she grinned. “did he… did he kiss you? like..” she paused, eyes flicking around the room. “like a prince would?”
you swallowed hard. the memory was still fresh, still warm. your fingers brushed your lips without thinking.
“he did.” you whispered, shy. “it was soft. gentle. like he thought i might break if he wasn’t careful.” a laugh slipped out, light and breathless. “i never thought i’d feel like that… with him.”
gisselle gasped, her hand flying to her mouth again like she physically couldn’t contain her joy.
“oh my stars..” she breathed. “you’re not just some servant anymore, are you? you’re the prince’s secret. this is madness. pure, beautiful madness.”
you chuckled, glancing toward the soft candlelight flickering on the nightstand. shadows danced across the stone walls, quiet and warm.
“he’s royal, gisselle.” you murmured, your smile faltering. “if anyone finds out… it could mean trouble. for both of us. for everything.”
gisselle’s expression softened. she reached out and took your hand in both of hers, her touch grounding.
“i know.” she said gently. “but it’s his choice, isn’t it? if he wants to be with you… then who’s to say no? he sees you for who you really are. not just some servant girl.”
you bit your lip, her words comforting, but the worry still lingered like a shadow in the back of your mind.
“but i am just a servant.” you whispered. “and he’s the prince. his family, his kingdom… they’ll never accept it.”
gisselle squeezed your hand a little tighter, pulling you closer.
“forget them, y/n.” she said with quiet conviction. “you’ve got a love story worth telling, and no crown or title can take that from you.”
you sighed, the weight in your chest easing a little. just enough. for a moment, everything felt simpler. you closed your eyes, thinking of him. the way his lips had brushed yours.
“i don’t know what will happen.” you murmured. “but for now… i’ll treasure it. i’ll treasure him.”
gisselle leaned back into her pillow, her eyes warm with affection as she looked at you.
“you’re so hopelessly in love.” she teased, voice soft and fond.
“am i?” you smiled, resting your head against the edge of her bed, gazing up at the flickering candlelight.
she giggled, nudging you gently with her foot under the blankets.
“yes” she said. “and somehow, you’re going to make it all work. i just know it.”
you smiled, squeezing her hand once more. her warmth, her words, made everything feel a little less impossible.
“thank you, gisselle..” you whispered. “for everything.”
she smiled softly, voice like a lullaby.
“always.”
ii. lavender hands
the scent of lavender clung to the air, subtle and clean, as you stood in the linen room, carefully folding pressed sheets into perfect thirds. it was quiet, peacefully, so save for the rustle of fabric and the occasional creak of the old wooden shelves that lined the walls. sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting golden beams across the room like soft ribbons of light.
you didn’t hear the door at first. not until the latch clicked gently, then closed again. your head lifted quickly, heart stuttering when your eyes met his.
“your highness—”
“shh.” jungwon grinned, finger to his lips as he stepped inside. “i should scold you for calling me that.”
you stared at him, wide-eyed. “you shouldn’t be here. if anyone were to see—”
“they won’t.” he said simply, voice soft as he approached you with featherlight steps. “you fold these sheets too quickly. i hardly have time to catch a glimpse of you.”
you sighed, turning away to keep your hands busy. “i have work to do.”
“and i am only here to assist, mylady.” he said, lifting the edge of a sheet beside you, mimicking your folds with little success.
you tried not to laugh, but the way he fumbled the corners and stared at the linen as though it had offended him, it tugged a smile from you.
“you’re hopeless.”
jungwon beamed. “and yet, you are the one who’s hopelessly pretty.”
you turned, sheet half-folded in your arms, eyes narrowing with a blush warming your cheeks. “that’s improper.”
“so is sneaking in here to see you.” he murmured, stepping closer. his voice dropped, lower now, just for you. “and yet, i can’t seem to stop myself.”
his fingers brushed yours as he took the linen from your arms, folding it with surprising care this time. his eyes didn’t leave your face.
“every hour i’m away, i wonder where you are. what you’re doing. if you think of me.”
you looked away, heart racing. “you should be with your court. preparing for—”
“a future that bores me endlessly.” he finished for you. “i’d rather be here. with you. in rooms that smell like lavender. watching you tuck corners.”
you turned back to him, brows furrowed. “jungwon…”
“may i hold your hand?” he asked softly, like it was sacred.
you hesitated. then slowly reached for him, your fingers slipping into his like puzzle pieces long separated.
he let out a breathless smile, as if he’d just been handed the world.
“forgive me.” he said, raising your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “but i find you so terribly lovely.”
you couldn’t speak. not with the way his eyes looked at you, like you were something precious.
“you make it so difficult to stay away.” he whispered, his hands moving from your waist to gently cup your face.
he took his time, studying your face with such intent that it made your heart race. his thumb traced along your cheekbone, and you caught the small, soft gasp that escaped him when his fingers brushed a lock of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear.
you laughed under your breath, cheeks still warm where his hand had been. “you’re ridiculous.” you whispered, voice barely louder than the fluttering in your chest.
jungwon grinned, the boyish kind, the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made your heart stumble. “ridiculously in love with you, perhaps.”
you nudged his shoulder, trying and failing to look stern. “you shouldn’t say things like that.”
“but it’s true.” he leaned against the shelf beside you, hands tucked behind his back, as if resisting the urge to reach for you again. “besides, you blush every time. it’s very rewarding.”
“you’re impossible.” you muttered, turning to the linen stack again, but you smiled, and he saw it.
you pretended to be busy continuing folding, but he stepped closer, his shoulder brushing yours lightly.
“do you ever think..” he said, voice low. “about sneaking away? just for a day. no titles. no expectations. just you and me and the world outside the gates.”
you tilted your head, the idea painting soft, wild colors in your mind. “what would we even do?”
he brightened. “we’d eat sweet bread from the baker’s cart. get our boots dirty in the fields. maybe i’d pretend not to know how to ride a horse just so you’d help me.”
you snorted. “you’re an excellent rider.”
“then maybe I’ll pretend to get lost. that way you’d have to find me.”
“jungwon—”
“and when you do..” he continued with a playful grin. “i’d thank you with a kiss.”
your hands paused, eyes flicking up to meet his. the air between you filled with something golden and warm.
“i think you just want an excuse to kiss me.” you said softly, smile tugging at your lips,
he leaned in a little, lowering his voice like a secret. “i don’t need one.”
your heart flipped. and maybe it was the sunlight or the lavender or the way he was looking at you like the world had slowed down, but you didn’t stop him this time.
his lips brushed yours in the gentlest of kisses, barely there, like a promise.
when you opened your eyes again, he looked dazed, a little stunned with happiness. “i’ve been wanting to do that since the first time i saw you in this room.” he admitted.
you smiled, shy but radiant. “then you should’ve come to fold linens sooner.”
he laughed, full and bright, the sound echoing off the shelves.
“i’m never missing a laundry day again.” he said solemnly.
you giggled, swatting lightly at his chest, but he caught your hand and twirled you in a slow, clumsy circle, right there in the middle of the linen room, amidst half-folded sheets and sunshine.
“what are you doing?” you laughed breathlessly as you stumbled into him.
“practicing for our secret royal ball.” he said with a wink. “it’ll be just the two of us. dress code: aprons and laundry dust.”
you rested your forehead against his, still laughing. “you’re unbelievable.”
“you love it.” he whispered, brushing his nose against yours.
“i might.” you admitted, so softly he nearly missed it.
he stilled.
“say it again..” he murmured, his voice suddenly shy, like he couldn’t believe he’d heard right.
you looked up at him, eyes round and warm. “i might love you.”
his breath hitched. and then he kissed you again, this time giddy and just a little clumsy, like he couldn’t believe you were really there, saying things like that.
you both dissolved into giggles when your teeth bumped. he kissed you again to make up for it. and again. and again.
“you taste like honey.” he whispered against your lips.
“it’s probably the tea from the kitchens.” you replied, cheeks aching from smiling.
“no.” he said, nose brushing yours once more. “it’s just you.”
and there, in a room filled with nothing but fresh linen and sunbeams, jungwon kissed you like the world had finally gotten something right.
iii.
the room was too quiet.
you could feel it in your fingertips as you poured tea into a cup. your movements steady, but not calm. there was no one else in the chamber. no guards, no attendants. just you… and prince ri ki.
ri ki was the second-youngest of the royal line, born into silk and sharp expectations. where jungwon carried the warmth of spring, ri ki was winter, graceful, exact, and difficult to read. his words always seemed carefully chosen, his presence always perfectly composed. he was the kind of boy who wore velvet like armor and wielded silence like a sword.
he sat at the far end of the long table, posture flawless, gaze unreadable. his gloves rested beside his untouched plate, fingers steepled beneath his chin as if the entire room was waiting for his permission to breathe.
you bowed politely. “will there be anything else, your highness?”
“sit.” he said.
you blinked.
“…pardon?”
he nodded to the chair beside him, not unkindly. “i asked you to sit. not as a command, but a courtesy.”
after a heartbeat of hesitation, you obeyed, lowering yourself slowly into the seat. your hands folded in your lap, your breath held.
the silence stretched.
ri ki turned his head, studying you, not cruelly, not unkindly. just… watching.
“you’ve been spending time with my brother.” he said at last.
your pulse stuttered.
you answered carefully. “he sometimes visits the servants’ quarters. he’s friendly.”
ri ki tilted his head just slightly. “you think i’m such a fool?”
you stayed quiet.
“i’ve seen the way he looks at you..” ri ki continued, voice like polished stone. “i’ve also seen the way you look at him.”
your throat tightened. “i never meant—”
he cut you off raising a hand, not accusing, just tired.
“for it to become something real?” he finished, arching a brow. “it already has. and that’s the danger.”
he leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. “i’ve lived in this palace long enough to know the rules, even the unspoken ones. who’s allowed to look at whom. who’s allowed to want. and who’s not.”
you stared at your hands in your lap, fingers curled too tightly.
he sighed. not cold. not even annoyed. just… older than he looked. like someone who had been watching too long from behind a wall of gold.
“i’m not here to threaten you..” he said finally. “i came because jungwon trusts me. and i trust him. but love, especially his, is no small thing.”
you lifted your head.
“he’s always been brave.” ri ki went on. “but lately, i see something more in him. something… reckless. like he’s standing too close to a fire and smiling anyway.”
you breathed. “and you think that’s me?”
“no.” ri ki looked at you calmly. “i think it’s both of you.”
you swallowed, hard. “so what are you going to do?”
“nothing.” he stood, slipping his gloves back on one finger at a time. “at least… not yet.”
you rose with him. “why?”
he paused, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. “because for once, it doesn’t look like a scandal. or a game. it looks like something real. and if it is… you’ll need more than each other to survive it.”
he met your eyes one last time.
“you’ll need to be strong. careful. and above all… silent.” ri ki nodded once. “take care.”
you stood as well, heart still pounding. “your majesty, you’re not going to tell anyone?”
he turned for the door, then paused. “like i said, im not going to do nothing. but be careful.” he said over his shoulder. “not everyone in this palace will be as kind as i am.”
and then he was gone.
you stood there in the quiet, hands trembling slightly, not from fear, but from the truth that had just been laid bare.
because now, you knew someone else had seen the flame.
iv. mylady
the ballroom was packed.
music swelled from the golden chamber like waves crashing against your skull, strings, trumpets, voices, clinking glasses, laughter that didn’t sound happy, not really.
you didn’t belong there. you were just passing through the corridor when you saw him bolt.
jungwon.
a blur of dark blue royal suit, hair combed back too perfectly, expression unreadable as he walked fast, then faster, then ran. no one stopped him. they were too busy bowing.
you didn’t think. you followed.
and now you were here. in the stables. the royal stables, to be exact. where the scent of hay and saddle leather replaced perfume and wine, and moonlight poured in through high wooden slats.
jungwon was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, crown gone, his white undershirt wrinkled beneath layers of discarded uniform.
his knees were drawn up. his elbows rested on them.
he looked…small.
like a boy.
not a prince.
not someone with the weight of the entire court on his back.
“you’re not supposed to be here.” he said softly, not even looking up.
“you’re not either.” you whispered.
he looked up then. his eyes were red. not crying, but close. his jaw tightened when your gaze met his.
“did they send you?”
you sat beside him slowly. your skirts rustled. “no. i just saw you leave.”
he didn’t answer right away.
you watched his hands. they were shaking. he kept flexing his fingers like he couldn’t get the feeling back into them.
you swallowed. “what happened?”
jungwon let out a humorless laugh. “what han’t happened?”
he leaned his head back against the wall and stared at the beams above, silent for a moment.
“my uncle’s drunk..” he started. “my mother’s furious because i didn’t want to dance with the viscount’s daughter. the duke from glenmare asked me what my plan was for international strategy, and i—I’m eighteen.”
you glanced over. he looked so tired.
“i just wanted to breathe..” he muttered. “but then they said i needed to smile more. and shake hands. and bow. and act like i give a damn about any of it.” he turned his head to you suddenly. “and i couldn’t even find you.”
your throat tightened. “me?”
“you always find me when i need air..” he whispered. “but you weren’t there. i couldn’t see you anywhere in that room.”
you were frozen. you never realized he looked for you like that. you thought you were invisible most of the time.
“i was in the west wing..” you said softly. “cleaning.”
he nodded slowly. “of course.” he sighed and leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees.
silence again.
but not uncomfortable. just…settled. after a moment, you reached over and touched his hand. he tensed. then relaxed. your fingers stayed there and jungwon stared at them for a second, then intertwined his with yours without looking at you.
his hands were warm now.
“sometimes i wish i wasn’t the prince..” he said quietly. “sometimes i just want to be jungwon.”
you didn’t say anything. instead, you leaned your head on his shoulder. his breath caught. he looked down, stunned at first, but then his whole body seemed to settle. like your touch reset something inside him.
“you feel like peace..” he whispered.
you shut your eyes. he was still holding your hand. your pinky was twitching because of how close he was. you were just a maid. you weren’t supposed to be here. you weren’t supposed to comfort him like this.
but you were. and he was letting you.
“do you ever think about leaving?” he asked. “just…running off? starting over somewhere they don’t know your name?”
you nodded. “all the time.”
jungwon turned to look at you, really look this time. his lashes were long in the moonlight. his eyes soft.
“would you go with me?” he asked.
you blinked. your chest tightened. “what?”
“if i asked..” he said. “would you come with me?”
you wanted to say yes. god, you wanted to scream it.
but instead, you whispered. “is that what you really want?”
he didn’t answer right away. his gaze dropped to your lips. his face was close, so close you could count every texture of his skin.
“no.” he said finally. “what i really want is to kiss you. right now.”
your breath caught.
“but i won’t.” he added. “not unless you want it too.”
your fingers squeezed his, you looked up at him and you nodded. that was all it took.
jungwon didn’t hesitate. his hand came up to your face, gently cupping your cheek like he was scared you’d vanish if he touched you too roughly. his lips found yours, warm, slow at first.
then he kissed you again. and again, deeper this time.
you moved closer without thinking, climbing into his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs, skirts bunched around you. his hands settled on your waist, gripping like he needed something to hold onto.
he pulled back just barely, foreheads pressed together, breathing hard. “tell me if this is too much..” he whispered.
“it’s not..” you said, voice shaky but sure.
his mouth found yours again, more desperate this time. you felt his fingers slide up your back, warm under the fabric of your dress, holding you tighter. your own hands moved up into his hair, finally messy, the way you liked it, the way no one else was allowed to see.
he kissed you like he’d been waiting forever. like he didn’t care about the kingdom or the rules or the titles.
just you. just this.
when his lips left yours, they found your jaw, then your neck, slow, hot kisses that made your breath hitch. you felt dizzy. not from fear, not from nerves. from how real it all felt.
his hands roamed, careful but curious, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the bare skin where your dress had slipped just slightly off one shoulder. you gasped quietly when he kissed there, slow and lingering.
you rolled your hips slightly, testing the tension between you. he groaned, quiet, breathy, right against your collarbone, and you felt it, the proof of his want pressing up into you through layers that suddenly felt like too much.
“milady..” he muttered, voice low and rough. “are you.. sure about this?”
you nodded, hands tugging at the buttons of his shirt.
jungwon let out a short breath that could’ve been a laugh, but he was too busy dragging his mouth down your throat, kissing a slow path over your skin. your fingers finally got the last button undone, revealing more of his chest, pale, warm, already flushed. he looked up at you as your hands explored him, watching your face like every move you made was the answer to something he’d been aching to know.
“are you quite certain?” he asked again, one hand slipping up your thigh, pushing your skirts higher. l.
you nodded, breath catching where your fingers brushed his chest. “yes… are you?”
a flicker of colour bloomed on his cheeks. “i’ve never… not once. not with anyone.”
your eyes met his, wide and surprised. “nor have i.”
for a moment, neither of you moved.
the stillness between you felt reverent, sacred. not rushed, not impulsive, just two souls baring themselves.
jungwon exhaled shakily, his thumb brushing your cheek. “then we take our time..” he murmured. “we learn… together.”
your lips curved into the smallest smile. “alright.”
his kiss came slowly, deliberately, with every ounce of care he could give. his lips ghosted over yours as though you were something fragile, something royal in your own right. your hands slipped into his hair, anchoring yourself to him as the warmth of his body pressed against yours.
you helped him undo his pants, fumbling a little with the fabric, both of you shaky and flushed. by then he was free, hard and flushed and already throbbing against your thigh. your underwear came off too, discarded somewhere behind you, forgotten in the soft hay.
“i’ve no notion what i’m doing, mylady.” he admitted softly, flushed and breathless.
“nor i…” you whispered back, a nervous laugh escaping. “but i trust you.”
“may i…?” he asked, voice catching.
you nodded. “slowly.”
and he did. you took him in carefully, inch by inch, both of you holding your breath. it stretched and burned a little, but it wasn’t bad.
his fingers gripped your hips as though anchoring himself. “you’re alright?”
“yes.” you breathed. “just… give me a moment.”
“say the word, and i’ll stop.” he whispered.
but instead, you kissed him.
your bodies moved in soft rhythm, unsure but willing, each motion a question answered with breath and touch. his head rested against your shoulder, his voice a quiet sound of wonder each time you rocked into him.
there was no bed. no privacy. just the hay, the moonlight, and the way he held you like this moment might break him.
“sweet mercy...” he groaned, head tipping back against the stable wall.
you couldn’t think. could barely breathe. all you could do was move, slow at first, easing yourself into the stretch, the fullness. his hands gripped your hips, holding you like he didn’t want to let go.
“mylady, look at me.” he whispered.
and when you did his eyes burned into yours.
“jungwon..”
you moved together, slow, grinding, chasing the edge like it was the only thing that mattered. each roll of your hips dragged a whimper from your throat and a quiet curse from his. he kissed you through it, messy, desperate, open-mouthed kisses as your bodies met again and again.
you felt him throb inside you, knew he was close.
“mylady..” he begged.
you came together quietly, holding each other close, his breath mixing with yours. and a moment later, you followed, falling apart against him, your face buried in his shoulder.
neither of you moved for a long time. you both stayed there, tangled in silence.
his breathing was still uneven, lips slightly parted as he buried his face in your hair. one of his hands lay over your back, fingers twitching gently.
your heart thudded slow but steady, matching his. it felt like the world had paused around you. no court. no crown. just sweat-slick skin, shallow breaths, and the press of two people who shouldn’t have had this, but did.
you exhaled first. and then, softly, barely audible, you speak. “ri ki knows about us.”
jungwon didn’t move. he blinked once. then again.
slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at you. his eyes were puffy but his brows drew together with concern.
“…what?” he whispered.
you swallowed. “your brother knows about this.”
jungwon was quiet. his expression didn’t twist into panic, he just leaned his head back against the wooden beam behind him, staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling.
“don’t worry about him.” he murmured. “he wouldn’t tell anyone.”
you nodded slowly, fingers still resting lightly on his chest. “i know. but he’s also loyal. to the crown.”
jungwon looked back at you. there was something unreadable in his eyes now. something sharp beneath the softness. “he’s loyal to me.”
you held his gaze. “are you sure that’s enough?”
he didn’t answer right away. outside, a horse shuffled in its stall. the night breeze creeping through the cracks in the stable walls.
jungwon reached for your hand again, intertwining your fingers.
“i’ll protect us..” he said quietly. “i swear it.”
and you believed him.
v.
the morning sun had barely crested the hills when jungwon stepped onto the practice grounds.
his boots sank slightly into the soft earth, dew still clinging to the grass. his tunic stuck to his back with sweat, already, though it was barely past dawn and the guards who usually assisted him were dismissed.
jungwon exhaled through gritted teeth, blade locked against ri ki’s. both brothers stood at the center of the courtyard, boots planted firm on cobblestone slick with dew.
“you’ve gone soft.” ri ki muttered, pushing back with a smirk.
jungwon twisted his wrist, parried, and stepped aside. “i’ve not.” he grunted. “you’re just insufferable this early.”
“speak for yourself, your highness.”
their swords clashed again, fast now, the rhythm sharp, prince to prince, brother to brother.
jungwon’s movements were aggressive. sharp turns. no hesitation. each strike carried more than just training, it carried frustration.
“you’re distracted.” ri ki said after another parry. “again.”
“and you’re irritating.” jungwon bit, swinging low. ri ki dodged, barely.
“not the first to say so.” they paused, swords crossed, faces close. ri ki studied him. “it’s her, isn’t it?”
jungwon’s jaw tightened. “say it again and i’ll knock your teeth out.”
ri ki lowered his sword.
“you truly believe you’ll keep her hidden forever?” he asked, more serious now. “you’ve always been daft when it comes to consequence, but this, this is foolish beyond reason.”
jungwon stepped back, sword still in hand.
“you think i do not know that?” he snapped. “you think i do not wake with dread in my gut each morn, wondering if mother’s already caught wind?”
“then why continue?”
jungwon looked away, silent for a moment. “because she’s the only thing that feels… honest.”
riki scoffed lightly. “how poetic. write her a sonnet then, not an obituary.”
jungwon turned to him sharply.
ri ki’s tone darkened. “she could die.” he said bluntly. “you know what mother is. you know what she’s done. you’ve seen it.”
a silence felt and jungwon’s knuckles were white around the hilt of his sword. he was breathing hard, but not from the drills.
he stared down at the sword.
ri ki continued, his tone cold. “if word of this reaches her, if she senses even a breath of rebellion, she will not speak of it. she will act.”
jungwon’s jaw clenched. “she would not dare harm her.”
ri ki’s gaze did not waver. “she would. and has. you are heir, jungwon. you were not raised to love. you were bred to rule.”
he felt it then. the doubt.
for the first time.
like rot in his lungs.
he’d always believed he could protect you. that if he loved hard enough, held you tight enough, it would be enough.
but what if it wasn’t?
what if he was dragging you into a fire, blindfolded and barefoot?
what if loving you was a death sentence?
ri ki sighed. “mother wants you ready for tomorrow’s.”
jungwon turned his head. “what is it now?”
“you leave by carriage this afternoon. the royal instructors have been summoned. they are to accompany you by carriage through the northern route.”
jungwon looked up sharply. “i was not told.”
“you’re to meet the princess. she’ll be seated beside you during supper.” ri ki said flatly.
jungwon’s heart sank.
“it begins.” ri ki added. “whether you like it or not.”
he gave jungwon a long look before he left.
vi.
the hour was far past decent.
moonlight stretched pale across the marble floors, and the long hall you crossed seemed to echo with silence. torches flickered low in their sconces, their flames casting golden shadows that danced across your path.
your skirts whispered with each step, arms tired from scrubbing, apron dusted with ash from the hearth. your hands were smudged faintly with soot, apron crumpled, hair tucked back loosely.
you moved quietly through the corridor, long and dimly lit, you just wanted to reach your chambers. you rubbed your arms absently, your shoulders aching. only a few more steps until a hand caught your waist.
you startled, breath caught in your throat, but before you could speak, a second hand came around, pressing gently over your mouth.
your back was against the wall in an instant.
warm breath touched your ear.
“hush.” the voice was low, familiar. your eyes widened as jungwon stepped into view.
his tunic was open slightly at the throat, the royal crest gleaming faint beneath the fabric. his hair was slightly tousled, as though he’d been running fingers through it all evening. he said nothing at first. just looked at you.
you blinked at him. “you scared me.”
“forgive me.” he murmured, brows furrowed as he stepped closer. “i did not intend to, i only… gods, i could not wait.”
your back pressed further into the stone as he closed the distance, eyes still searching his.
he looked tired.
“i’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
you straightened. “leaving?”
he nodded once. “just for a few days.” he reassured, his voice quiet in the empty corridor. his fingers curled gently at your waist. “nothing dangerous. just business. royal duties.”
you looked up at him, trying to read past the calm in his tone.
he was dressed simpler than usual, his dark tunic a bit wrinkled from rushing, the crest at his collar half-buttoned, and his hair messier than you’d ever seen it. like he’d run his hands through it a dozen times.
“will you miss me?” he asked, his head tilting slightly.
you shrugged, arms crossed loosely. “a little.”
he huffed a laugh. “liar.”
his arms came around you then, slow, deliberate, like he wasn’t sure you’d allow it. like he needed to be sure.
but you didn’t move away.
you let him hold you.
his arms slipped further around you then, drawing you in. slower this time, gentler. his head dropped to your shoulder, warm breath brushing your skin.
you didn’t move away.
his hold tightened a little, just enough to pull you closer. he didn’t speak right away, just stayed like that, forehead against your neck, fingers curling at your lower back.
“you’re tense.” you said quietly, hand brushing through his hair.
he hummed low in response, then leaned back just slightly to look at you. his eyes searched your face, soft, a bit heavy-lidded.
“am i?” he said with a small smirk.
you raised an eyebrow. “you look like you haven’t slept.”
“maybe i haven’t.”
his gaze flicked to your lips.
you felt your breath catch, just barely, and when he leaned in, reflexively you turned your face, shy, cheeks warming before you could stop it. not out of rejection, but out of memory. of that night. of how close you had been. how bare.
he noticed.
“ah..” he said under his breath, a small, knowing sound.
his hand simply moved to the back of your neck, thumb gently rubbing along your skin as his forehead came to rest against yours.
“you’re shy now?” he whispered, teasing.
you rolled your eyes, cheeks warm, eyes refusing to meet his.
jungwon hummed, gaze dropping to your lips, and he leaned closer. murmuring near your ear. “you weren’t shy last time. you—”
“don’t say it.”
“you begged, dove.”
“jungwon!”
he burst into quiet laughter, pulling you in with both arms now, clearly too entertained.
“you’re never seeing me off again.” you grumbled into his shoulder.
he smiled against your hair.
“too late. i’m already leaving with a memory i’ll take to my grave.”
you pulled back just enough to glare at him, only for him to steal that kiss after all, quick and soft, catching you off guard.
your breath caught and he smiled smugly.
“miss me properly, yeah?”
vii. just for a minute.
the days moved on like they always did.
your mornings began early, before the bells rang. you helped prep the main halls, swept ash from the fireplaces, and kept the west wing windows polished so the steward wouldn’t complain.
gisselle was the one who kept you sane.
she cornered you in the linen room two days after his departure, arms full of folded sheets and suspicion in her eyes.
“you’re quieter.” she said bluntly, dropping the stack on the shelf.
you blinked. “i’m tired.”
“tired, huh?” she echoed, clearly unimpressed. “you’re always tired. this is different.”
you didn’t answer, and she didn’t press. just gave you a look and passed you a basket of fresh towels.
“well, whatever’s keeping you up, tell it to let you sleep. you look like a sad candle.”
“a sad candle?”
“yes. all dim and droopy. it’s tragic.”
you huffed a laugh despite yourself.
afternoons were filled with errands, refilling water jugs, delivering notes between staff, helping the kitchen girls carry bread loaves up to the great hall.
nights were quiet.
gisselle snuck you extra biscuits from the kitchen. you returned her hairpins when she left them scattered across the vanity table. and sometimes you’d crawl into her bed with a sigh and ask if they feed him properly out there. gisselle could only said that he was a prince. he’ll survive.
one week passed. then another.
you did your duties. you kept your head down. you kept that folded parchment beneath your pillow. untouched.
no letters came. but you kept waking before the sun. just in case.
you found yourself, as always, in the same places. tidying the east wing, sweeping the hallways, delivering messages to the royal chambers. and yet, you carried on.
then, one evening as you were passing by the library, before you could even turn, hands were at your waist, lifting you from your thoughts and pulling you.
you barely had time to process it.
“what—jungwon?” you managed, though his name came out more like a question, a gasp, and you couldn’t quite place the confusion or the shock, both because you hadn’t expected him to be back and because, honestly, you hadn’t heard a thing.
he didn’t immediately speak, though his presence alone was enough to unsettle you. you finally turned your head to face him, your eyes searching his.
“when did you return?” you whispered, a bit breathless from the unexpected turn of events.
jungwon’s eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, there was something unreadable in them. the usual spark was gone, replaced with something deeper, unease, maybe?
“this morning.” he said, his voice quieter than usual. he took a small step back, but his hands never left your waist.
you frowned, noticing the way his brows were furrowed, the tension in his jaw. he was acting different, too still, too careful with every movement.
“you seem…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words. “what’s wrong?”
he gave a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “nothing’s wrong.”
but it didn’t sound convincing.
you tilted your head slightly, studying him, feeling the quiet pull between you as he remained unusually distant.
you watched him carefully, he couldn’t keep his gaze on you. instead, his eyes flicked around, scanning the corridor.
finally, after a few moments of silence, he met your eyes again, this time with a softer look.
“i missed you.” he said simply, already pulling you by the hand, into the familiar hush of the library.
it was quiet. lit only by candles. he let go of your hand then, and you rubbed your wrist out of habit, though it wasn’t sore. just warm. still tingling.
you turned away first, pretending to examine the nearest shelf. “you know i’m still working.”
“then consider this… an unauthorized break.”
you glanced over your shoulder. “what if someone finds us?”
he raised a brow. “then we’ll lie. you were dusting books, and i was brushing up on agriculture.”
“you hate agriculture.”
“exactly. no one would believe it. they’ll leave us alone.”
you snorted, crossing your arms and leaning back against the railing of the spiral staircase. “you’re impossible.”
but your heart was already thudding. you hated the way it did that, loud and reckless, whenever he looked at you the way he was looking at you now.
god how much you’ve missed him.
“you like it here.” he said suddenly.
your eyes flicked to his. “the library?”
he took a step closer, hands tucked behind his back. “you always slow down when you walk past. i’ve noticed.”
“…maybe.” you shrugged, turning back to the shelves. “it’s peaceful.”
jungwon moved slowly then, careful, like he was testing the weight of every step. the candlelight hit the side of his face, softening the sharp lines. making his eyes look warmer than you remembered.
“you looked absolutely beautiful, mylady.”
you shake you head. “i looked completely horrendous.”
his hand reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your cheek. gentle. slow.
“i mean every word when i speak to you.” he said.
you looked away, but he didn’t let you. his hand was careful, lifting your chin just slightly until your gaze met his again.
your lips parted. the breath caught in your throat. and then, just as suddenly, he stepped back. turned away. his shoulders shifted as he exhaled. he moved to one of the velvet armchairs near the tall window and sat down without another word.
“come here.” he said quietly, patting the armrest beside him.
“jungwon…” you hesitated.
“just for a minute.”
you sighed but walked over anyway, sitting beside him. your knees bumped lightly.
it was quiet again. the kind of quiet that felt private. heavy.
he looked at you, something thoughtful in his expression. something almost… hesitant. but he didn’t say anything. he didn’t say what he came here to say.
instead, his gaze fell on the shelves again. “read something to me.”
you blinked. “what?”
“pick anything. i want to hear your voice.”
you gave him a strange look, but reached for a nearby book anyway. you flipped through the yellowed pages until you found something legible and started reading, something about a royal banquet that had ended with someone’s wig catching fire.
he laughed and you glanced at him, smiling without thinking. you didn’t even notice how close his hand had gotten until your fingers brushed against his.
his fingers were long, soft, a little cold. yours were rougher, calloused from cleaning floors and silverware.
he liked your hands. he noticed they always shook a little when you were around him, and he’d never say it out loud, but it made his chest feel warm in a way that almost scared him.
you didn’t dress like the other girls he saw in the ballroom. no jewels, no silks. you wore a faded apron, scuffed shoes, sleeves rolled to your elbows. but somehow, you looked more beautiful to him than all of them combined.
and tonight, as you stood beside him under the library chandelier, face lit softly in candlelight, he couldn’t stop staring.
“why’re you looking at me like that.” you muttered, trying to sound annoyed.
“you’ve a smudge on your cheek.” he said, his hand reaching up your cheek to clean it. and when he did you looked away first, flustered.
he always looked at you like that, like you were something he wasn’t supposed to want, but did anyway.
it was confusing. it made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t understand.
jungwon stepped away slowly, pretending to inspect the books. his hair was slightly messy, soft brown strands falling into his eyes. he was always clean-cut, always neat in public. but in these stolen moments, he looked real.
less like a prince.
you stood in place for a moment, heart hammering, unsure of what to do with the space he’d left behind. the room still felt like it belonged to him, even when he wasn’t touching you.
you turned back to the book, pretending to read. you weren’t following the words. you were listening to him move behind you. the quiet creak of the floorboards under his boots. the way he breathed a little slower now.
“i didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” you murmured.
“neither did i.”
you glanced at him over your shoulder. he wasn’t looking at you, just tracing the spine of a dusty volume like it held something important. like if he focused hard enough, it would tell him what to say.
“did something happen?” you asked, voice low.
he paused. only for a second. but you noticed.
“no.” he said simply. “just… plans changed.”
you tilted your head, confused. “you’re usually kept longer when you travel with the council.”
jungwon let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh, but not a real one. more like something tired.
“turns out, not everything goes according to plan.”
you nodded slowly, still watching him. his voice was steady, but something in it felt… off. and he still wasn’t meeting your eyes.
you didn’t ask more. you should’ve. but you didn’t. instead, you took a step toward him.
“well… i’m glad you’re here.” you said and grab his hands with a smile across your face.
and that’s when he looked at you. fully. his eyes soft but guarded, like he was memorizing something.
“don’t say that.” he murmured.
you blinked. “why not?”
he didn’t answer at first. just glanced down at your hands joined like he hadn’t meant for that to happen.
but he didn’t let go.
“you make it harder.” he said, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.
you frowned.
he shook his head. “forget it.”
you opened your mouth to ask again, but then he kissed you. thumb brushing the edge of your jaw.
“you talk too much, mylady.” he said softly, teasing, even if his voice sounded far away.
“that’s new.” you muttered, trying not to sound breathless.
he smiled faintly. “you’ve always talked too much.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “you’re so strange lately.”
“am i?” he murmured, like he wasn’t even listening anymore.
you paused, leaning your forehead lightly against his shoulder. “you sure everything’s alright?”
his hand slid gently down your spine.
“yeah.”
he didn’t look at you when he said it. but his arms stayed around you like he didn’t trust himself to let go.
you didn’t ask again.
and he didn’t say anything else. just held you because maybe he wouldn’t get to again.
viii. the promise that wasn’t for me
the days passed, but jungwon was quieter than usual. he didn’t come around like before, didn’t seek you out like he did in the library that night. you heard his footsteps less often, his voice rarely reached your ears. sometimes, when you passed the great hall or the council chambers, you caught glimpses of him in the distance, always alone, always serious.
you kept yourself busy, going about your chores like always, sweeping floors, polishing silver, and running errands for the steward. it was easier to focus on work when your mind was crowded with questions you didn’t want to ask.
gisselle noticed, of course. she teased you less and watched you more, like she was waiting for you to say something anything about jungwon’s sudden silence.
you wanted to say something. you wanted to ask why he came back only to disappear again, why his eyes looked tired and distant the last time you saw him. but you didn’t have the words. maybe he didn’t either.
sometimes, when the palace was quiet and the sun was low, you found yourself standing near the library, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. but he never appeared. the empty space beside you where he used to stand felt heavier than any silence.
tho this morning the palace was louder than usual.
you had barely tied your apron when the head maid grabbed your arm and thrust a tray of covered dishes into your hands.
“to the golden parlour. now. her majesty is having a private breakfast with a guest.”
“a guest?” you asked, adjusting your grip on the tray. “shall i prepare tea, or—”
“princess navina of esthrene.” she cut in. “do not speak unless spoken to. and mind your posture.”
you offered a tight nod and made your way down the corridor, trying not to roll your eyes.
another one.
prince jungwon had been “introduced” to more noble daughters than you could count. you’d seen dozens. each one laced in foreign perfumes and draped in their kingdom’s finest silk. each one trying, and failing, to draw a smile from him.
jungwon never smiled at them.
you balanced the tray and made your way to the parlour. your chest felt calm. you had nothing to worry about.
he was yours.
even if no one knew it.
the doors to the golden parlour opened with a soft click, and you stepped inside, careful not to let the tray wobble.
the room was warm with gold accents, sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains. the queen sat at the head of the gilded table, elegance in every movement. across from her, a young woman, presumably princess navina, adorned in seafoam silks and delicate pearls. her poise was flawless. she looked composed. polished. untouched.
but it was jungwon who made your breath falter.
he sat beside her. straight-backed in his ceremonial robe, the one with black and gold threading reserved for national announcements or courtships.
when he saw you enter, tray in hand, something shifted. his eyes widened just slightly, lips parting as though caught mid-thought. he hadn’t expected you. not here. not now. and definitely not like this.
he looked down, then back up, expression unreadable again, face settling into calm.
but he wasn’t calm.
you bowed low, eyes on the floor. “breakfast is served, your majesties.”
“set it down.” the queen said evenly.
you obeyed, fingers steady, until you reached him. you didn’t look at him. but you felt him. he didn’t speak. didn’t move. but his eyes found yours. not cold, not warm. something in between. something stuck.
then, as if remembering where he was, who he was, he looked away.
you quickly stepped back to your post. hands clasped behind your back with posture perfect.
“well princess navina” the queen began. “we’re grateful your family agreed to the shortened engagement. a summer ceremony will be most fitting.”
your stomach dropped.
“indeed, your majesty.” navina answered softly. “my mother preferred a spring celebration, but i insisted. i would rather stand beside my husband from the beginning of his reign.”
jungwon didn’t say a word.
“the royal tailor arrives tomorrow.” the queen continued. “the wedding colours shall be gold and seafoam. the announcement will go out by week’s end.”
your heart fell to the ground before the silver tray.
because yes, you dropped it and the porcelain dishes shattered on the marble floor.
the entire room went silent.
you dropped to a bow without thinking, heart thudding against your ribs. “f-forgive me, your majesty.“
the queen didn’t answer right away.
you stayed in position, knees pressed to the floor, hands trembling slightly. the sound of the broken cup still echoed in your ears. it was foolish. you knew better. you were trained better.
but you hadn’t expected that.
you hadn’t expected her.
princess navina sat gracefully at the table, one gloved hand resting in her lap, the other holding a silver spoon just above her untouched plate. she didn’t flinch. didn’t look startled or annoyed. only concerned, the type of calm concern taught in finishing schools and royal drawing rooms.
she was beautiful, of course she was.
her dark hair was swept back into an intricate twist, not a strand out of place. her eyes, soft and almond-shaped, were framed with kohl and intelligence. her dress shimmered faintly with seafoam thread, and the pearl comb in her hair caught the light whenever she moved.
she looked like she belonged there.
next to him.
and that made your stomach twist.
you heard the queen shift in her seat. “get it cleaned.” she said sharply. “then leave us.”
you bowed lower. “yes, your majesty.”
you scrambled to gather the broken porcelain, careful not to cut your palms. jungwon didn’t move. not a muscle. but you felt his eyes on you.
you didn’t look up.
you couldn’t.
as you stood, you caught a glimpse of princess navina watching you. her expression unreadable. curious, maybe. or amused. or nothing at all.
you turned and walked out, heart pounding, cheeks burning, pieces of porcelain rattling on the tray.
you hadn’t cried.
not yet.
but gods, your eyes stung.
you set the tray down in the scullery with shaking hands. no one was there and the silence pressed in around you like a second skin. you stared at the shards, white and delicate, now ruined. like something else you couldn’t name.
you pressed your palms flat to the counter, trying to steady your breath. your reflection in the tarnished silver tray stared back, eyes red-rimmed and wide, lips parted like you might speak if you only had the strength.
you didn’t see jungwon for the rest of the day.
you kept your head down, kept busy, scrubbed the kitchens until your fingers ached. you avoided the golden parlour. you avoided everyone.
even gisselle, who cornered you by the laundry with furrowed brows and folded arms.
“you’re not made of stone.” she said, not unkindly. “you can talk to me, you know.”
but you couldn’t.
that night you lay on your straw mattress, the thin blanket barely keeping the chill away. the quiet was comforting — except for the absence of giselle, who was supposed to be nearby. she had left a few minutes ago saying she needed a bath before bed, wanting to wash away the day’s dirt and tension.
then your door creaked open and you saw him. soaked in rain, his cloak dripping onto your stone floor and hair flat against his forehead. you sat up fast, heart leaping,
your breath caught in your throat. “you can’t be here. someone will—”
“why?” he stepped fully inside, shutting the door behind him. “because if anyone finds out i’m marrying someone else, they’ll know i’ve been sneaking into a maid’s room at night for months?”
“you lied to me.”
“i didn’t lie.”
“you didn’t tell me.” you snapped, rising to your feet.
“i was going to tell you.”
“when?” your voice cracked, raw. “when, jungwon?”
“i didn’t think they’d agree to the shortened engagement.” he rushed out. “it was supposed to be discussed, just discussed. i was going to tell you, but not like this—”
“so you were just going to keep lying to me.”
“i wasn’t lying!” he said, louder now. “i wasn’t ready.”
“you weren’t ready.” you echoed bitterly.
“i was trying to protect you.”
you stared at him. “by marrying another woman?”
“i’m not choosing her. you know that. you think i’d stand at an altar with someone else, knowing what we have?” his voice sounded tired. defeated.
“you already are.” you whispered, voice breaking. “you sat beside her today. you let them plan your wedding.”
“and what would you have me do?” his voice rose. “declare my love for a servant before the entire court? bring scandal to your name? put a target on your back?”
“you already have.”
his face crumpled. “y/n…”
you looked away, blinking hard, throat burning. your voice came quieter this time. “you should go.”
“please don’t do this.” he stepped closer but you backed away quickly.
“go.” you whispered and crossed your arms, not to defend yourself, but to keep from shaking.
jungwon stood in the middle of the room like a storm himself, unwelcome, uninvited, and yet impossible to look away from.
he didn’t move.
he pressed a hand to his face, dragging it down slowly, as if trying to wipe the weight of it all away. “i thought i could buy us time. i thought—i thought if i kept things quiet, i could figure it out without hurting you.”
you turned away, gripping the edge of the small wooden table near your bed, trying to steady yourself. “you should go before giselle comes back.”
he stayed where he was.
“jungwon..” you said again, softer now, tired. “please.”
he looked at you like he was memorizing you, the distance between you was breaking something inside him. he opened his mouth, then shut it. and then, finally, he nodded.
“i’ll fix this.”
you didn’t answer.
you didn’t look back when the door creaked open again. or when it shut behind him.
your knees gave out the second the door shut behind him.
you dropped to the floor, hard, hands hitting the stone as you caught yourself. and then it all crashed in.
you cried.
you cried like it hurt to breathe, like the ache in your chest might never leave. the tears came hot and fast, spilling down your cheeks, dripping onto the floor. sobs tore through you, quiet but wrecking, the kind that left your whole body trembling.
because you loved him.
you pressed your forehead to the floor, eyes squeezed shut, wishing the stone would swallow you whole-wishing you could go back to before, when it was just you and him and a library full of stolen moments.
but those moments were gone.
ix.
the days following were torment. not just for him, but for you too.
the palace didn’t sleep. there were whispers in every hallway, servants sprinting across stone floors with velvet fabrics, golden plates, and endless flowers. everyone preparing for the arrival of the royal guests.
and you?
you kept your head down, hands busy, ears deaf. or at least, you tried. but every time someone said lady navina, it felt like someone dug their fingers into your chest and twisted.
you spoke only when spoken to.
and when you did, you called him, my lord.
the first time it left your lips, the pen slipped from his hand like it had burned him.
now jungwon was looking for you all over the palace.
in the marble corridors, in the garden, in the library where you used to sort the books by color just because he said he liked it like that.
but you were no longer in any of those places.
you had asked to be transferred to the kitchen.
away from the east wing.
away from him.
and still, jungwon kept looking for you.
through the hallways.
through the art gallery.
he even asked about you in the laundry room.
but you ignored him. more firmly each time.
you were never under any illusion, it was never meant to last. you knew he would come. and so he did. three days later, the doors burst open with such force, the very knives upon the table trembled in their place.
the kitchen fell still. not a word, not a breath.
even the head chef, midway through stirring, froze in silence. only the soup dared to continue its boil—blissfully.
“leave. all of you.” jungwon’s voice rang out—clear. commanding. no one moved at first. until he lifted his gaze. “i said leave. now.”
the cook dropped her knife. the helpers rushed to remove their aprons. one by one, they left, confused. you did the same. left the board, turned toward the back door, but his voice reached you before you crossed it.
“not you.”
you halted. and slowly, so slowly, you turned to face him. he came closer, closing the door behind him.
“my lord.” you said, with a curt nod. “if you’ll excuse me—“
“is that it?” he bit out, stepping forward. “are you truly going to keep pretending you don’t know me? that you don’t know what’s between us?”
“i’m not pretending anything, my lord.” the coldness in your voice was worse than any slap.
“don’t call me that. not you, for god’s sake.”
“but that’s what you are now. my lord.”
“no!” he took a step closer, his voice breaking with anger. “not after everything. not after the way you looked at me. not after those nights we spent talking about the world beyond these walls, dreaming of something more than
“that was before your engaged.”
his eyes softened for a second, like your coldness tore him apart. he walked toward you, slower this time, like he was unsure, like every step hurt.
“don’t look at me like that. not you.” he whispered.
“how am i supposed to look at you?” you asked, not with anger, just resignation. “like nothing happened? jungwon, you knew this was going to happen. you chose it.”
“they chose it for me.”
“but you accepted it. and i don’t blame you. you’re the prince. you have a duty.” your voice cracked a little, but you kept going. “i already knew my place. i’m just… a mistake in your story.”
“you were never a mistake!”
“but it seems like one. doesn’t it?”
he breathed heavily. you remained unmoved.
“you don’t understand.” he murmured, turning away and running a hand through his hair. “you don’t understand how hard it’s been to pretend i don’t care about you. how i ache every time i see you and can’t touch you. you don’t understand what it’s like to smile at a woman i never chose while thinking about the scent of your lavender-covered hands.”
you didn’t cry. you wouldn’t give him that.
“i love you..”he let out, almost a desperate secret. “don’t you get it? i’d do anything to give you the truth back, to turn back time. tell me you still believe me.”
“believing you isn’t the problem, jungwon.”
you looked him straight in the eyes, finally.
“the problem is that none of this matters anymore. because you have a duty. a kingdom. a crown. and i’m just a stone in the path to all that.”
“you’re not.”
“yes, i am. and you know it.”
jungwon lowered his gaze. he looked tired. his jaw was tight, eyebrows drawn like he’d been clenching them all day. but it was his eyes. red, a little swollen, like he hadn’t slept right in days. they kept flicking from your face to the floor, like he couldn’t decide where to settle.
“i didn’t expect to stay with you. i’m not that naive.” you added. “but i did expect you to be honest with me. after everything… i thought at least that much, you owed me.”
he closed his eyes, like your words were blades.
“i tried..” he murmured. “i tried to find a way out. i thought that if i postponed the announcement, if i delayed the ceremony… i could find you, explain everything myself. but things moved faster than i imagined.”
“it wasn’t your duty to delay it.” you said softly, eyes down. “your duty was to become king. i was just the mistake you made along the way.”
that broke him. you knew it because he stepped back, like he needed space to breathe.
“you weren’t a mistake.” he said again, firm, with a mix of pain and anger. “don’t say that. you were… the only real thing.”
jungwon looked at you as if hoping you’d interrupt him, say something, anything, but you just stayed silent. the kitchen was heavy with tension.
“say something. anything.” he pleaded, voice barely louder than a whisper.
“what do you want me to say?” you finally asked, still not looking at him. “that i understand you? because i do. that i forgive you? i do that too. but none of it changes what you are now.”
“you talk to me like i betrayed you on purpose.”
“i don’t blame you, jungwon.” you repeated calmly, but it was the kind of calm that only hides exhaustion. “i really don’t. i just… didn’t expect to find out while serving bread and tea.
jungwon shut his eyes tightly. “it hurts when you talk to me like this.”
“and you think it doesn’t hurt me?” you said, finally looking at him, eyes wet but no tears falling. “you were the only thing that didn’t make me feel invisible in this place.”
he stepped toward you again, desperate.
“i don’t want this to end like this. i don’t want you and me to…” his voice broke.
“but it already ended, jungwon.” you interrupted. “it ended the moment you signed the papers. the moment you swore loyalty to someone else.”
he looked at you with a mix of sorrow and fury. not at you, but at himself. for not protecting you. for losing you. for not having the courage to break from what was expected of him.
“if i could go back…”
“but you can’t.” you said, and this time you smiled, a sad resigned smile. “this was your destiny. i was just a pause in the middle of your duty.”
the silence stretched.
“and still, i love you.” he murmured.
that made you tremble. you lowered your gaze. you didn’t want to hear that. not now. not when you had already forced yourself to let him go.
“don’t say that to me, jungwon.” you whispered.
he stared at you for a long time. too long. and for a second, just a second, you wondered if he might say screw it. if he might reach for your hand. pull you close. risk it all.
but he didn’t.
he just looked down. his shoulders dropped a little. then he nodded, once.
“i’m sorry.” he said quietly.
you didn’t answer.
and this time, when he turned to leave, you didn’t stop him. you didn’t even look.
and maybe that’s what hurt most.
x. the bells said I died
the palace glowed as if it were already celebrating a fairytale you never asked to be part of. white flowers climbed the windows, golden velvet curtains hung from every arch, and a thousand scented candles waited to be lit once night fell. the grand ball in honor of prince jungwon’s engagement to lady navina was just hours away.
and you… you walked through it all as if you were just another piece of furniture. invisible. as if you hadn’t woken up before dawn for months to prepare the tea he always said he preferred when no one else was paying attention. as if you hadn’t memorized the sound of his breathing while pretending you were the only one in love in silence.
it was the day before the royal ball. the celebration in honor of the prince’s engagement to lady navina was already filling the palace with decorations. the halls overflowed with white flowers and golden ribbons, and every servant was rushing from one end to the other with trays, fabrics, crowns of leaves, while you just… walked through it all with your head down, pretending it didn’t affect you.
“more to the center, dear, that table must be perfect. the princess wants everything to look flawless.” ordered one of the ladies-in-waiting, adjusting her headpiece with a handheld mirror.
you were about to answer, but gisselle ran up to you, breathless.
“prince jungwon…” she said in a hushed tone, as if afraid someone else might hear. “he hasn’t gotten out of bed. the physician was called. they say he has a fever.”
you froze. “how bad is it?”
“i don’t know. no one is allowed near him. his mother isn’t letting anyone in except for her most trusted staff.” she lowered her voice again. “but he hasn’t eaten. hasn’t spoken. it’s been all day.”
“and navina?”
“she hasn’t even gone to see him. she’s too busy choosing the flowers for the banquet.”
you walked away without a word.
that night, as the sun finally disappeared behind the palace towers, you sat in your chambers pretending to sew. the thread slipped from your fingers more than once, and your stitches were uneven—your mind too loud, too far from the needle in your hand. you hadn’t truly been focusing, not for hours, but you kept your posture straight, lips pressed into a line, like you’d been taught.
across the room, giselle slept curled beneath a soft wool blanket. her back rose and fell in steady rhythm, face turned toward the window.
the only light came from a single candle on your desk. shadows danced along the walls, and every creak of the old stone outside felt louder than usual.
you were about to put down the needle when someone knocked on the door twice. you turned your head slowly, not wanting to wake giselle, you rose quietly, crossed the room, and opened the door just a crack. and when you opened it you weren’t expecting to see him.
prince ri ki was there, slightly out of breath, as if he had run all the way. you slipped into the hallway before he could speak, closing the door gently behind you.
“your highness?” you quickly bowed, trying to keep your voice steady.
he shook his head, glancing over your shoulder, making sure you were alone.
“no time for formalities. pack your things.” he said quietly but firmly. “only what’s necessary.”
“what?” you blinked. “i don’t understand.”
“it’s an order.” he repeated, gentle but serious.
you didn’t ask anything else. you didn’t have the strength to. with trembling hands, you stuffed what little you had into a small bag. giselle was still asleep, unaware of what was happening. you didn’t have time to say goodbye.
you paused for a second at the door, glancing back toward the bed where giselle was still asleep under the thick blankets, her breathing calm.
“don’t worry about her.” ri ki said quietly when he saw you hesitate.
as you followed him, you passed through corridors you were usually not allowed in. ri ki walked quickly but with ease, greeting every guard naturally, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
“can i know where we’re going?” you whispered, trying not to sound scared as you stepped through a back door into the garden.
ni ki didn’t answer. he just kept walking, circling one of the old fountains in the back.
and then you saw him.
jungwon. standing beside the oldest rose bush in the palace. no sign of fever. not a trace of illness. his back straight, his face lit by the moon, and his eyes fixed on you like he had never stopped watching.
“what is this…?” you asked, confused, dropping the bag at your feet.
“no time, milady.” jungwon said, walking toward you. his voice was urgent, different, like he knew every second counted. “we have to go.”
“go?” you frowned, stepping back. “what are you doing?”
“i’ll explain later.” he said, taking your hand. his palm was warm, steady, and that only confused you more.
“there’s a carriage waiting further down, at the north path,” said ri ki giving his brother your bag. “i’ll take care of the rest.”
ri ki looked at him for a long second, like he wanted to say something else. then he simply pulled him into a hug. strong, one arm across his back, the other hand resting on the back of jungwon’s neck.
“you’re going to be okay, alright?” ri ki murmured into his ear, voice trembling. “i’ve got it. you just… live, okay?”
jungwon nodded, biting his lip as he pulled away.
“thank you, brother. for everything.”
ri ki grabbed his shoulders and gave him a small shake, eyes glistening.
“don’t thank me now. thank me when you’ve got a home far away from here, a new name, and… her by your side.” he looked your way briefly before turning back.
you stood frozen, feeling the air shift. you still didn’t fully understand what was happening, just that it was big. too big.
“take care of him, will you?” ri ki said quietly, almost pleading.
before you could reply, he turned and walked back into the garden, disappearing into the mist and shadows of the palace.
jungwon didn’t wait another second.
“quickly.” he said, tugging your hand.
“what—? jungwon— where are we going?”
“trust me.” he said simply, and then started running.
your steps were clumsy at first, stumbling a little from the pace. the mud clung to your shoes, and soon the edges of your white gown were completely stained. the hem dragged dirt, leaves, branches. the cold bit at your skin, but jungwon didn’t stop.
and neither did you. because he didn’t let go.
the bells started ringing before you reached the carriage. one, then another. their echo sliced through the air violently, making you shiver.
taaan!
taaan!
taaan!
the sound spread through the valley, from the highest towers of the palace. it wasn’t any ordinary bell. it was the mourning call. the one they rang only when someone of royalty had died.
and then, you heard it. a distant scream from the east wing of the castle.
“prince jungwon is dead!”
epilogue.
the sky had that soft color that appears when the sun starts to set but hasn’t quite decided to leave yet. a shade between gold and peach slipped through the light curtains of the small country house they now lived in. it was one of those afternoons when everything felt calm, like even time itself had decided to pause for a few more minutes.
the kitchen smelled like freshly baked bread and mandarins. lots of mandarins. your daughter, barely five years old, was sitting on one of the high chairs with a wrinkled apron and sticky cheeks from juice. she had peeled four, or maybe five mandarins with more enthusiasm than technique, leaving a messy pile of peels on the wooden table.
“mom, look at this one, it’s weird.” she said with a smile, holding up a slice that, in her eyes, looked like a heart.
“it’s because it has love.” you replied, gently brushing her hair, feeling that warmth that only simple moments can give you.
the back door was open, letting in the sound of the wind, rustling branches. your youngest son came running down the stairs. barefoot, holding a stick he insisted on calling his “royal sword”.
“i’m going with dad!” he yelled, his giggles being contagios.
you barely managed to say “put on shoes” but he was already gone. you watched him run across the garden, where the grass was still wet with dew.
and there was jungwon.
his back turned. hair longer, tied with a leather strap. his body stronger, broader. arms marked by daily labor, broad shoulders under a white linen shirt rolled up to the elbows. chopping wood like he’d done it all his life.
the prince he once was, now just a man. a husband. a father.
“daaad!” the boy yelled, running toward him, barefoot and with mud-stained pants. jungwon dropped the axe instantly to lift him into the air, spinning once as they both laughed.
you stepped onto the porch holding your daughter’s hand. she kept eating mandarins while you tried to wipe the juice from the corners of her lips.
the image stayed with you like a painting: the sunlight filtering through the trees, your daughter playing with mandarin peels, your son clinging to jungwon’s neck, and him, looking at you from the garden as if he didn’t need anything else in the world but that.
you.
jungwon looked at you, and kissed your forehead when you got close. his hand was rough from working the land, but warm. real. your fingers laced with his almost without thinking, like your body did it on its own.
“today’s a good day to go to the lake.” he murmured.
“yeah… today everything feels right.”
you looked around. there were no carriages, no jewels, no titles. there were winters by the fireplace with everyone huddled under a blanket. there were summers running through flower fields, and laughter that disappeared into the wind. there were nights when jungwon held your hand in silence, saying nothing, but with eyes full of gratitude because you chose him. because you saved him.
the sacrifice.
the lie.
the freedom.
all to get here.
the kingdom you built together had no castles. but it was, without a doubt, the happiest one.
2K notes · View notes
faetealights · 1 year ago
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am at my limit
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rafedarling · 7 months ago
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drew dealing with rustyns tantrums yk when toddler go through that phase 🥹
love this 👶🏻 love seeing tantrum baby vs drew dad
𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞
request: open
pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader
summary: new year’s eve is a night for celebrations, but for drew and you, it’s also a reminder of how challenging bedtime has become with your three-year-old son, rustyn.
warning(s): english is not my native language. toddler tantrums, perenting struggles, firm discipline (not hard or abusive)
au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy
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(love this gif)
New Year’s Eve always been a fun and filled with laughter, music, and the fairy lights strung around the living room. Rustyn, who had been riding a sugar high from earlier snacks and dancing with his parents, was now sprawled on the rug, building a block tower with Drew.
You glanced at the clock: 8:30 PM. Rustyn’s bedtime. It’s always been Rustyn bedtime since he was 1 and you never had a hard time putting him to bed until now
“Rustyn, baby,” you called gently, leaning forward. “It’s bedtime, sweetie.”
Rustyn didn’t even look up.
Drew tried, his tone still calm but a little firmer.
“Come on, bud. You know what time it is time to go to bed.”
Your son continued stacking blocks as if he hadn’t heard a word.
You sighed, standing and walking over to him.
“Do you want Mama or Dada to put you to bed tonight, honey?”
For a moment, Rustyn paused, considering. Drew added, “Mama’s asking you a question, bud. What’s it gonna be?”
Rustyn finally glanced up and answered with a defiant, “No.”
You glanced at Drew, your face falling slightly. Drew caught your look and immediately stood, scooping Rustyn up from the floor despite his protests.
“That’s not how this works, Rusty. It’s bedtime, no arguments,” Drew said, his voice firm but not unkind.
Rustyn immediately began to whine, squirming in Drew’s arms.
“No! no bedtime!”
Drew carried him to his room as you followed a few steps behind, your stomach already twisting at the familiar wails. The moment Drew closed the door to Rustyn’s room, the real tantrum began.
“No, no, no!” Rustyn screamed, his little fists pounding against Drew’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to sleep! I’m not tired!”
Drew sat down on the edge of Rustyn’s bed, holding him firmly but gently in his lap.
“Rustyn,” he said in a low, steady voice, “stop. I need you to calm down.”
Rustyn wailed louder, his little body trembling with frustration.
“No! wanna play!”
You lingered outside the door, listening as Drew handled the meltdown with his signature combination of patience and authority.
“Rusty,” Drew said again, this time softening his tone, “look at me.”
He gently cupped Rustyn’s face in his hands, guiding his tear-streaked eyes to meet his.
“I know you don’t want this fun night to end. I get it and I don’t want it to end either. But you know the rules. It’s bedtime, and your body needs rest.”
Rustyn sniffled but didn’t respond, still glaring at his dad with watery eyes.
“You’re upset,” Drew continued, “but screaming and hitting isn’t how we solve problems, is it?”
Rustyn shook his head slightly, his resolve beginning to crumble.
“Good,” Drew said, brushing a strand of hair out of Rustyn’s face.
“Now, let’s talk about this. Why don’t you want to go to bed?”
Rustyn hesitated before mumbling, “I want stay with Mama. No alone.”
Drew sighed, his features softening even more.
“You’re not alone, bud. Your room is right next to ours. Mama and I are always close by. But we need time to rest too, so we can keep having fun with you tomorrow.”
Rustyn whimpered, burying his face in Drew’s chest.
“But I’m not sleepy…”
“You’re not sleepy now,” Drew acknowledged, rubbing soothing circles on Rustyn’s back, “but if you stay up, you’ll be so tired tomorrow that you won’t want to play. Is that what you want?”
Rustyn shook his head vigorously.
“Okay, then. How about you lie down, and I’ll stay with you for a few minutes until you feel sleepy. Deal?”
Rustyn considered this before nodding slowly.
Drew glanced at you, standing in the doorway, and motioned for you to join them. You stepped inside, sitting beside Drew on the bed. Rustyn reached for you, and you took his small hand in yours.
“You know,” you said softly, “Mama doesn’t like bedtime fights either. It makes me sad to see you so upset, baby.”
Rustyn’s lip quivered. “I’m sorry, Mama.”
Your heart melted.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Just try to be a good boy for Dada, okay? He’s only trying to help you.”
Rustyn nodded, leaning against Drew as his eyelids began to droop. Drew laid him down gently, pulling the blankets up around him.
“Goodnight, buddy,” Drew said, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s forehead.
“Night night, Dada. Night night, Mama,” Rustyn murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
As the two of you stepped out of the room and closed the door, you let out a deep breath.
“See?” Drew said with a small smile. “Easy.”
You gave him a look.
“Easy? He was screaming like we were torturing him five minutes ago!”
Drew chuckled, pulling you into his arms.
“Okay, maybe not easy. But he’s learning. He just needs consistency. And a little tough love.”
“You’re so good with him,” you admitted, resting your head on his chest. “I don’t know how you stay so calm.”
“It’s because I’ve got you,” Drew said, kissing the top of your head.
“We’re a team, and Rustyn’s lucky to have us.”
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nepenthendline · 8 months ago
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the not-so-good parts about dating them
a/n: I am nothing if not a red flag lover
includes: midoriya, todokori, bakugo, shinsou, kirishima, kaminari, iida, hawks, aizawa
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Midoriya -
Midoriya's priority list is '1. everyone' so, sometimes, it's difficult to feel special in his eyes. It's not that he doesn't see you as a top priority, he just often lets himself get caught up with other people and dealing with their problems so you don't get his undivided attention all that often. He doesn't mean to do it at all, but he has missed dates before because he was staying late at work to help his students or got stuck helping out a friend.
Bakugo -
🤨 Aside from his obvious anger issues, Bakugo often struggles to see you as a team and not just individuals. Whenever you argue, he often sees it as a 'me vs you' and not a 'us vs the problem', and he sometimes makes big decisions without talking to you first. He feels like he has to be better than you because he needs to be a provider and a protector, so he tackles issues on his own instead of talking to you and working things through as a team.
Todoroki -
Todokori has no reference to what a 'healthy' relationship looks like, and it terrifies him. All he knows is what, or who, he doesn't want to end up like, and it stops him from taking initiative in your relationship because he's scared of doing the wrong thing. He knows he's not like his father, but he still worries that he's going to end up like him anyway, as if it's fated. Because of this, things move incredibly slowly, and it can be hard to tell that he does love you since he doesn't often make moves or use words to show you. He knows he wants, and needs, to improve though, he just needs some guidance.
Kaminari -
Kaminari struggles with self-sabotage in your relationship - he convinces himself that he's not good enough for you or that he's making your life worse by being with you, and can push you away, cancel dates late minute or act like he doesn't need you. These actions never last long before he snaps out of it, and you're well aware by now of what's going on in his head when he starts acting like this, but he's always convinced he's going to fuck this up. And sometimes, he believes it so much that he does. The guilt eats away at him daily.
Kirishima -
(Absolutely nothing) Kirishima hates showing you when he's feeling down, weak, or 'unmanly'. He bottles up a lot of his negative emotions and thoughts away from you and they gnaw away at him. Its not that he feels like he can't talk to you, in fact sometimes he lets things slip because he feels so comfortable around you, but quickly tries to put a positive spin on his words so that you don't worry. It's more that he feels he shouldn't, and that you have enough things to deal with as it is. He wants to be a safe space for you, so dealing with his emotions is out of the question. He never blows up at you because things get too far though, you just wish he could rely on you more.
Iida -
For the first while in your relationship, it almost felt like you lost your friendship with Iida. The lines between being friends and being a partner were extremely defined to Iida for some time, and he felt that every interaction between the two of you had to be so formally-relationshipy - this meant things such as only spending time with you on pre-scheduled dates, affection felt like ticking boxes on what was 'meant' to come next in a relationship, or not letting you see his deeper, darker times. Things do get better after some time and conversations, but it kinda felt like the first year of your relationship didn't really count.
Shinsou -
Shinsou feels like being with you is the most selfish act someone has ever committed. Sometimes he even thinks that, somehow in a way he doesn't know, he's forcing you to be with him. He feels like you can do so much better than him, but he loves you too much to let you go (not that you would anyway). He thinks that he doesnt treat you as well as you deserve and so he goes overboard to 'make things up to you', when in reality he's the most caring, selfless person you've met. He often brings up the idea of you finding someone else, or that you can cheat on him and he'll stay if that makes you happy, and it breaks your heart every time.
Aizawa -
Aizawa feels like everyone he truly lets in, he has lost, and he is terrified that's going to happen to you. So, he tries to keep his feelings and thoughts for you as surface-level as possible. The problem is that he's terrible at doing that - he has such a big heart and he wants you in every way imaginable, which creates a lot of inner conflict for him. One minute he's telling you everything weighing on his mind and letting himself fall deeper into you, and the next he's keeping you at arms length. He's scared to admit that he relies on you or that he needs you, but he does it anyway and it tears him apart inside.
Hawks -
He lies to you more times that he would like to admit. Well, it's more that he's very good about skirting around a question or situation rather than telling you the truth. There's some things in his life, his past, or his thoughts that he feels are best not being part of your life, and so he will tell you little lies and make adjustments to the truth to fit a narrative that he prefers. He wants to protect you from any negativity or darkness that he can - he knows what going through that feels like and he does not want you to have to feel that too, but mostly, and most selfishly, he's terrified of you thinking he's a bad person because of some actions he's had to take. It can be almost impossible to tell when he's lying or telling the truth because he's extremely open and upfront with other topics.
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catboybiologist · 2 months ago
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I see you talk a lot about hrt and you seem pretty informed. I also see that you have had really good effects from hrt.
So what I wonder is how much you think it is luck and genetics vs you making the right choices. I can't help but be jealous sometimes. I've had rotten luck and ok genetics it seems.
What's your take on this? Do you think you've been lucky or do you think everyone can do it like you have if they just did it the same way?
So whenever I answer an ask like this, I end up getting spammed with a ton of hrt related questions, and it gets a bit exhausting. So here's my usual disclaimer: I'm not a doctor, nor any kind of medical professional. I'm not an expert on this. I have a little more knowledge about the theory behind hrt than the average person, but not the medical practice. I'm just giving my experiences here.
So I couldn't say for sure, but I think the answer is both? I can't say how much luck is a component, but that said, I think that there's a lot that helped me out just from the troubleshooting end.
This answer ended up being long, so here's a tl;dr:
Be liberal on your estrogen, conservative on your antiandrogen. Eat a lot, exercise a lot.
Huge ramble under the cut.
It's hard to say that I looked feminine pre HRT. I had (and still somewhat have) all of the "ultra masculine" skeletal features that make people think their transition is going to go poorly, but the soft tissue changes have reframed how they look and function. I used to think that I would never come close to looking feminine without super intense FFS, and that feeling is almost completely gone now. So I didn't feel particularly lucky going into any of this. Now I do, and I'm finally actually relaxing how good hrt has been to me.
I did several things that I think accelerated my hrt. Unfortunately, I can't have a control group here. I also operated over a short period of time, during a period where hrt has a variety of effects. I have no way to tell for sure if these things did anything, or if it's all just masked by standard hrt progress, which comes and goes in bursts.
Also note: I don't think anything has dramatically affected my "final" results. I think there's a lot of things that have accelerated my results. But with ongoing, years long processes like HRT, the biggest, key ingredient is PATIENCE. I keep seeing 2 years thrown around like it's the end of hrt progress. This is, quite frankly, ridiculous. 2 years is startup and troubleshooting time. Whatever development happens in the first two years is a bonus, not a normal timeline.
So never, ever feel like you've fucked up your transition for good. You can always tweak it. And, you can always wait.
That all said, here's the bulleted list of the things that I think contributed:
Intensely focusing on getting my blood estrogen high. Stop thinking about dosages, start thinking about levels. From anecdotes I've seen, most doctors will underdose your estradiol. You should be shooting for 200pg/mL minimum. Many doctors will use this as a maximum. That is outdated information. Your estrogen should be on the high side of cis women ranges. If you're lost, use cis women metrics as a guide, or the WPATH. Personally, I've been blessed with a fantastic provider that I've never had to push back to or argue with, but I've heard some nasty horror stories.
Note that achieving the level I said above is often difficult with pills. Pills do have a maximum safe dosage because of liver metabolism. This will vary from person to person. But if you're getting past 8mg oral per day, consider switching to injections, patches, or gels. These methods bypass digestion and (somewhat) dodge the liver, making it easier to safely get higher blood levels. Even if you try to take them sublingually, a lot still ends up consumed orally.
HRT methods that allow for large differences between estrogen highs and lows seem to be more effective than steady state HRT. This is completely shooting in the dark here, but from my vague anecdotes from comparing injections with peaks and troughs to more steady (but still lover bypassing) methods, it still seems like injections are somewhat more effective. That is not a scientific assessment at all. But that's the only explanation I could think of that matches a little bit of what's known about hormonal physiology
With everything above: if possible, drop your antiandrogen ASAP. A pattern I've seen over, and over, and over again, is trans women being overdosed on antiandrogens while simultaneously being underdosed on estradiol itself. Remember: sufficiently high levels of blood estrogen are antiandrogenic on their own. If you need a AA to keep your T or other androgens low, your E is likely too low anyways. There's multiple reasons why having too much androgen suppression without raising estradiol is bad, but for a whirlwind summary, there's two things I would break it down to. One, having too low of both T and E is really bad, and is basically one of the only ways you can do HRT "wrong" in a way that's medically harmful (the other being stressing your liver). It has effects both short term (mood, metabolism, and energy) and long term (bone density and general growth). Also keep in mind that cis women have androgens too- and you need to make sure you're not over suppressing androgens to below cis female levels. Two, antiandrogens are rarely just an antiandrogen. As opposed to hormones themselves, which are found in your body anyways and are "understood" signals for your genes (among other things), antiandrogens are operating based on how we develop their effects as pharmaceuticals. Does this mean they're intrinsically bad? No. Don't fall into a "natural is better" fallacy. However, it's worth noting that AAs can have effects beyond just androgen suppression because they're not an endogenous signalling molecule. One of these effects might be overall suppression of growth and development. That is wildly unconfirmed, I know transfemmescience disagrees and has a pretty thorough breakdown, but unfortunately there's too much variability in individual trans women's HRT regimens to have consistent studies on fine details like that imo. Again, this is my opinion as a patient, not as an expert.
Don't start progesterone too early. I'd say delay it more than the general advice. 6 months after good blood levels is probably good. Notably, it's probably not a good idea to start it 6 months after the first pill crosses your tongue. Wait for the levels. Probably not that big of a deal though.
This last one I'm incredibly reluctant to even talk about, but I've been coming to the conclusion more and more that it was a fairly major factor in my progress. I didn't do it intentionally but it 100% happened. And that is weight cycling. From January to August of 2024, I dropped almost 30 pounds from training for backpacking and actually doing rigorous backpacking for 3 months. I've gained back all of that weight since. Most of my notable soft tissue and appearance changes have happened as a function of putting that weight back on. This isn't just about chest or thigh growth. My face was thin at my lowest weight, and when I put weight back on, soft tissue in my face has grown back in with a far more feminine look. I do NOT like talking about this, though. Why? Because I think deliberately weight cycling is more dangerous and hurtful than it is helpful. Diet culture, counting calories, and constantly comparing your weight and progress to others is an easy way to an easier disorder. If you develop habits centered around those things, that will fuck up your life permanently. What would I recommend instead? High input, high output. Eat a LOT, exercise a LOT. Get into a steady state with that. It's much healthier long term. Remember, at best, weight cycling is an acceleration, not working towards better "permanent" results.
And uh, I think that's it? Again, keep in mind that the main ingredient is patience. All of this is about making things faster, not making things better in the long run. If any of this seems unattainable for you, then don't worry! All you gotta do is wait.
And again, not medical advice, not scientific rigor, just anecdotes and what worked for me.
I don't have a better way to end this other than good luck? And also that you're probably being too hard on yourself anyways.
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imbecominggayer · 7 months ago
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Writing Advice: How To Trauma
In seeing the recent explosion of my "How To Write Trauma With Humanity" post, I have decided to jump back into this topic!
This cute post will be covering how to write complicated individuals with Trauma. From the good, the bad, and especially the ugly since people tend to assume that victimhood is inherently seperated from assholehood
A) Being A Person And Afraid
In my experience, the majority of people with trauma have simultaneously existing fears and desires that often contradict, complicate, or outright hurt themselves.
I call them "fear combinations"
It's these fear combinations that cause people with trauma to often act in ways that seem confusing to outsiders.
For example, the person that's always on the hunt for a relationship but whenever an opportunity for romance strikes, they create relationship havok so the relationship can end
Or a person tries to always sincerely bring attention to themselves but whenver the attention is on them, they just shrug it off as not being worthy of it
This behavior seems kinda weird until you stop to take a closer look at their psyche.
Example 1 is based off of my character, Monday Vũ who has a tendency of jumping into relationships with a sincere desire to find romance until the honeymoon period ends as Monday realizes that if the relationship continues they might have to settle down, forgo their entire identity, and all of their freedom. Then they sabotage the relationship under the guise that it's a selfless endeavour.
Example 2 is based off my character, Niko Preyr who uses grand public gestures and his friendships to prop himself up as a person to be known but if you ever spoke to him then you would quickly see one of the most insecure yet attention-hungry individuals you have ever seen.
"Fear Combinations" are an excellent device in making your characters complex. In my opinion, the trauma-writing scene is just a little bit too neat in it's displays of trauma. It's too logical. It doesn't feel real to my personal experiences.
"he has trust issues because of trauma" What if he also had issues with being clingy to people he sees as trust-worthy?
What if your characters weren't so easy to understand? But I hear you wondering.
How? How do these people manifest such confusing behavior? Why should I add this into my characters?
I'll tell you
B) Instinct Vs Terror, Fighting Against Yourself
In my opinion, "fear combinations" are either caused by the distortion of a human fear or the event in which an intrinsic desire is contrasted against a "survival method".
Humans are born with certain "intrinsic" fears and desires. Humans are born with a desire for belonging, a desire for vulnerability, a desire for self-fulfillment, a desire for independence, a desire for security in themselves.
And with desire comes the fear of "missing out". The fear that you want something that everyone wants but for some reason you won't be able to get it. The fear that you'll loose it. And the fear that your desire might put you into danger. What if you get rejected? What if you never find that group? What if you never find freedom?
In not-traumatized individuals, while it may take some introspection, people can and often do reconcile their fears and desires in a movie-montage when they're children with the help of a strong support system.
In traumtized individuals, what tends to happen is that either the fear of lose and the fear of gain tend to be increased to unpredencented levels
Either that, or a lack of a strong support system doesn't allow the child to safely confront their fears in order to get what they want.
This causes "fear combination"
Niko Preyr has the natural desire to be validated as "good", as "special", as "worthy". A desire we are all born with. However, his upbringing convinced him that he is underserving of what we all need. This causes Niko Preyr to use attention as validation. However whenever he receives this attention, his gifted fear that he is undeserving causes him to reject the attention. But he continues searching for attention to serve that need for validation. A hellish cycle.
Monday Vũ has two understandable fears that we all have. The fear of losing two necessary things: indepedence and security. Monday fears being abandoned, fears being engulfed into relationships. While children and adults can often reconcile those fears in their childhood through a strong support system, Monday never had that. Instead she had her father who emotionally left her and her mother who literally left her. Monday only had herself to rely on, at least thats how she felt. And now, as an adult, Monday wants to fulfill that desire we all have. To be loved. To be connected. But she's afraid. Afraid of being blindsided. Afraid of not having the last laugh. Afraid of being apart of something.
What if that loner wolf found someone who they think is perfect. Someone worthy of their trust. Do you really think that all those years of yearning for love, for connection, are just going to be smothered when they have the perfect person to unleash their childish, half-developed, horrifying emotions onto?
But what next? After we have our character's contradictory fears and desires, after we have the justification for why they feel like this, what's next?
It's this:
C) Self-Destructive Habits: Why We Understand And Can't Change
Let me tell you, unless in very specific conditions such as certain personality disorders and so on, people tend to understand that their behavior is foolish, illogical, and hurting other people.
Monday knows that betraying other people, hurting their trust and faith in their relationships, and entering relationships when she understands her history is bad. It makes her a bad person.
Niko knows that their habits are actively hurting their chances at finding worth.
That "Lone Wolf" understands, deep down, that no single person can handle the high expectations and emotions.
They know it because they can see it. Many times. Monday can see that characters in movies who have their relationship history tend to be casted as the antagonist. Niko can hear the gossip. That "Lone Wolf" can see the way that their loved ones cracked under the pressure and guilt.
So why do they do it? It feeds into their idea of the world. It feeds into what they want to be perceived as. It feeds into their stagnancy.
If Monday can ignore how they hurt others, then they can live under the Martyr label for the rest of their life without having to come to term with the fact that this isn't selflessness, it's called being pathetic.
If Niko can ignore how deep that hurt goes, then they never have to actually make the effort to change. To take that potential and make themselves into something. To be responsible.
If "Lone Wolf" can ignore how nobody can meet their expectations without crumbling down, then they use everyone's failure to feed into their cynical, self-hating notion of how nobody's trustworthy. How they don't have the responsibility of being considerate.
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hauntingblue · 1 year ago
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Hancock being shy with luffy always gets me
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shallowseeker · 8 days ago
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#People would just think he was doing it as a bit#or to raise money/awareness for some charity via @destielrotsmybrain
Okay but what if pentathlon (for horny Dean reasons) via @melody-nelson333
#he wins easily and sam wants to kill him via @scoobydoodean
YISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Cas is a mysterious, minor celebrity now, and is especially known for competing in full coat... even during the swimming portions. He's also gone viral for his dry commentary on the course itself and his pinpoint-accurate predictions of his own time and performance. (It usually comes off as rude, which has somehow only won over more hearts, minds, and earned him the online nickname SugarCoat.)
All of this somehow manages to make Sam’s life worse—especially on his morning runs, where everyone seems to stare more now, often with looks of pity. It’s not a competition. Sam's not training for a triathlon; he's been running here for years. Haven’t they noticed him before now?
Sam’s not bitter.
It just makes zero sense that he, the tall, friendly guy who actually talks to people, has never been particularly well-liked—while Cas, trench coat cryptid and noted social etiquette disaster, is now Lebanon's sweetheart.
Cas, who once told a bake sale organizer her scones were "structurally unsound."
When Sam sees SugarCoat painted happily on the window of his favorite small-town café as its new signature drink, he just keeps running right past it.
cas should enter a triathlon
initially just to get on sam’s nerves
#you knew i'd bring in sam versus the entire town of lebanon#it's my special interest#sam vs cas#sam vs lebanon#sam vs the entire town of lebanon#turbo jock cas for funsies#tiny sad violin for sammy#i think eight pack mommy should also have a shout out to sugarcoat at some point cause she is in on the cultural milestone of it#also THEEE news anchor lady shyly says she met him in person once and she he was a fan on hers#jack senses sam's bad mood on this whole topic and very much does NOT want to be involved or invited by sam to do morning runs#jack admits to dean he tries to make sure not to outrun sam so he doesn't look so stressed out... sam overhears and is horrified#anyway after that sam wins a marathon but everyone is more into ordering pizza that night#rowena pretends to care for a hot minute tho with a big sigh because she thinks the town is silly and sam shoudn't care#about the backwoods opinions of peasant folk#it makes sam feel better#sam WANTS to ask rowena for a smoothie recipe to sabotage cas#but ofc he doesn't ask that... does he?#i said he WANTS to#and if cas loses in the middle of a race and has to stop cas isn't even humiliated#he just dryly describes the lactic acidosis in his muscles to the mic and says he will come in last place of this race#and if dean arrives to fuss in a low-brow cussin-up-a-storm manner then that just makes cas more popular in the end#somehow after all that a hungry foodie mary gets into the cursed eateries and outs the whole thing by passing out in sudden exhaustion#dean is very mad so sam throws rowena under the bus#rowena vows to never help sam again#but ofc she will <3
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