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#disney au fics
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I've got Pixar AUs brainrot and am here to share a few on the top of my mind because sharing is caring ;)
Up- Sherlock is Carl, John is Ellie, Hamish/Rosie is Russel..now fill in the blanks :))
Wall E - Jawn is Wall E, Sherlock is EVE. Why? Because cute wholesome robot romance (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)
Monsters Inc. - cuz it seems like a cute parentlock thingy
Coco- hard to explain but ya can imagine. Basically Original Watson-Holmes kid (or in this case, great great great ((however many greats there is)) grandchild as Miguel. Rosie/original Watson-Holmes kid is Coco. Sherlock as Héctor, Jawn (as mama Imelda) resented him, renounced him and detective work from the family when he didn't come back home to them. Erased him from the family yada yada coco plot. And generations later the Watson-Holmes grandchild is really into crime solving/detective stuff but family says no.
Turning Red- one word. OTTERLOCK
anygays- that's all. Can't think about anything else. tyvm!!
Hey Nonny!
Ah, I do love myself some good AU fics! :D Only one I'm unsure of is the Coco one, because while the story is AMAZING and I love it, I think as long as it's just inspired by and not a direct character-for-character replacement, it should be okay... BUT I'm whiter than snow, so I have no place to have a say on that at all.
That said, I LOVE a good Disney AU story and there's sadly not enough of them. I'll add this to my writing prompts, because I like having great prompts in that tag :)
Thanks for sharing, Lovely!!!
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lilacs-stars · 2 months
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moon + tides
this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) SUMMARY: you, ariel's daughter, find yourself in a strange relationship with the one and only infamous pirate captain, who's absolutely obsessed with you GENRE: yandere, a bit of angst, some comforting fluff here and there, especially at the end CW: a few mentions of violence, someone walking a plank, mentions of drowning, some suggestive material, nothing too graphic though WC: 4.2k
A/N: this req was really fun to write! I might have gotten a bit carried away, heh...this part includes the backstory of how you two got together and the first part of the req, and the second part will include the rest of it. hope you guys enjoy reading this cause I definitely put some hard work into it lol. also please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd really like to know your thoughts!
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If you could go back, would you change what happened?
This is something that you often ask yourself. 
You think about that fateful day frequently. It was the summer before your first year at Merlin Academy. You had finally convinced your parents, the famed mermaid Ariel and her Prince Eric, to let you go for a swim unsupervised. Being half-mermaid, half-human allowed you to transform back and forth at will. And although life on land was pretty good, your heart always ached to go back to the sea, to feel the cold, salty water as it engulfs you. To race along the reefs, tail swishing back and forth, allowing you to reach speeds far past what your human form can do. To leisurely swim amongst the many species of fish and plants that created the world of the ocean. To go back home.
Your parents had already gone over the rules with you hundreds of time, to the point where you could recite each one of them word for word: “Don’t go past the boundaries,” “Don’t approach any animals you don’t know,” “Don’t go so deep where you can’t see any light,” “Come out at the first sign of bad weather,” and, most importantly, “Do not, under any circumstances, interact with any humans.”
Your mother may be renowned for rescuing a stranger from the unrelenting grasps of the sea—if she hadn’t, you wouldn’t even be here right now—but that was a very rare case. Far more often than not, mermaid interactions with humans out on the waters ended up in the mermaid being tortured, held hostage, or even killed.
You knew the rules by heart, and yet, maybe it was because of your young age, you still broke them. You weren’t really aware of your actions in the moment; one second, you were swimming alongside a pod of dolphins, racing against the currents. The next, you heard loud voices and realized that almost directly above you, yet still a good few dozen meters away, was some sort of ship.
You had ducked down next to a big sponge, peering up apprehensively. It was at that moment you realized that you were far outside of the boundaries set for you by your parents. You should have turned back, should have swam back home, but there was something about the ship, something that intrigued you so much it forced you to stay in place.
A few moments passed, and seeing as there was no commotion, you let your curiosity get the better of you. After all, that ship shouldn’t even have been out there. Slowly, you crept closer and closer to the surface, making sure to remain in the shadows. The noises were becoming clearer; you could make out people’s voices now. But they still weren’t sharp enough for you to understand what they were saying.
Finally, you took the risk and poked your head out of the water near the rear of the ship. The sight before you elicited a sharp gasp, and made you wish you had just gone back when you still had the chance. 
Extended from the side of the ship was a long, wooden plank. Standing on one side of it (the safe end), was a man, gagged, blindfolded, and bound. He looked to be no older than forty, with a scraggly beard and ripped clothes.
A pirate.
Another figure emerged, walking to the edge of the deck. Your reflexes caused you to duck down quickly, so only your eyes were barely above the water. This figure was much younger, with dark brown hair parted neatly and angular features twisted into a wicked smile. He donned a maroon blazer that covered a white shirt with an upturned collar. Something in his left hand shined brilliantly under the sun’s bright rays.
The younger figure laughed, but not in the way one would laugh at a funny joke. He unsheathed a cutlass from his side, using it to poke the back of the man on the plank. 
“You see, Mr. Jones? This is what happens when you cross the most feared pirate captain in all the lands!” the young figure roared as he yanked off the older man’s blindfold, revealing to him his fate. The fear and panic that spread across the man’s face has been forever etched into your mind, even to this day.
You heard the man beg and plea for mercy, watched as every move he made caused the plank to sway even more violently. The pirate captain simply laughed, his crew along with him. Finally, when you suppose he tired of hearing the man grovel, you watched in terror as the captain gave the man a good kick in the back, finally sending him over the edge.
Suddenly, it was like the world was spinning in slow motion. The man plummeting off the wooden platform, falling, falling, falling. His screams muffled by the cloth around his mouth. Then, all too soon, he made contact with the water with a loud splash. 
He sank quickly, devoured by the ocean’s waters within the blink of an eye. Your young, distraught face watched as a few bubbles rose to the surface. Then nothing. All that remained of the man’s existence, all there was to give proof that he had ever even been there, were a few ripples in the water.
That was it.
You were frozen in shock. How–what–why? Your brain could barely string together a comprehensive sentence. All you were sure of was the feeling inside you. You couldn’t quite put it into words, could barely even understand it. But it made your tail ache to move, made you feel as if you simply couldn’t stay in one place any longer.
You dove beneath the surface, frantically swimming towards the direction where you saw the man go under. You kept looking around, searching, but to no avail. You decided to dive deeper, swimming lower and lower until the water around you was near pitch-black. You were growing more and more panicked by the second, because every second you wasted was another second the man grew closer to death.
Finally, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Hope flaring, you darted towards it, the figure becoming clearer the closer you got.
It was him.
You reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to prevent him from sinking farther. His eyes were shut and he wasn’t breathing, but you could still hear a heartbeat. There was still time left.
Wrapping your arms around him, you started the difficult journey back to land. Thankfully, you knew of a small island not too far from here. Swimming with the added weight of a fully grown man was incredibly difficult, especially for a young mermaid, but you persisted. After all, this was his life on the line.
You swam as hard as fast as you could, and thankfully, by some blessing from the heavens, found a warm water current going the direction you were. You let it carry you, the rushing stream multiplying your efforts. Finally, after what seemed like hours but must have only been a couple of minutes, you reached the island.
Letting the wave wash you up on shore, you settled the man down on the soft sand the first chance you got. You rolled him to his front, which was quite the endeavor itself. His heartbeat had grown more shallow, but it was still there. There was still hope.
Using the skills your mother had taught you, you started to nurse the man back to health using your melodic voice. Ever since you were young, she had explained to you the gift bestowed upon mermaids, the power of healing through song. She taught you to sing before you could walk, and it was the one thing that you were sure you could do right.
As you sang your strange and melodious tune, it finally occurred to you that you were breaking the most sacred of rules. Not only were you interacting with a stranger, you were coaxing him back to life. Like mother, like daughter, you thought. I suppose healing strangers who were drowning at sea runs in my blood.
The only caveat to your healing powers is that it takes quite some time to have its full effects. You don’t know how long you sat on the beach, but it had been quite some time. You probably would have been there for much longer had it not been for the boom voice that sounded behind you, waking you from your trance of song.
“Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t a mermaid.”
You practically jumped out of your fins as you turned around, startled beyond words. There, towering above you, was the evil pirate captain you saw earlier. He was even younger than you had previously thought. In fact, he couldn’t be much older than you. You wondered for a fleeting moment how a kid like that could command an entire ship full of grown—and scary-looking—men, but decided you have bigger matters at hand to worry about.
A few members of his crew lurked behind the captain, and you could see a small lifeboat docked to the ground near the coastline. Further beyond that, his ship swayed in the ocean waves, dark against the bright horizon.
You followed the pirate’s gaze down to your tail, which was still out. You silently cursed yourself for forgetting to transform back into your human form, being too distracted by saving the man to pay attention to your own safety.
You wanted to yell at the cruel pirate for trying to kill this man. No matter who he was, what he had done, he didn’t deserve to die. At least not like that. But the words got caught in your throat, so while a war raged inside your mind, you were completely quiet on the outside, simply staring up at the man with wide doe eyes.
“You have a lovely voice,” the man said, with a tone that you wouldn’t quite imagine a killer using. He must have overheard me sing earlier, you thought to yourself. “Tell me, little mermaid, who taught you to sing?”
“M-my mother,” you replied weakly, your voice far more meager and small than you wanted it to be. You were still staring up at him, afraid of what he’d do to you.
“Your mother? Well, that’s quite interesting.” The captain raised his left hand to scratch at his chin, which is when you realized that it wasn’t a hand at all. Instead of a hand was a curved metal hook, with a sharp point gleaming at the end. So that must be the shiny thing I saw earlier, you thought.
“Oh, where are my manners?” laughed the pirate abruptly. “My name is Captain James Hook, leader of the Jolly Roger. And you are?”
You blinked, almost forgetting your own name. If it were a less tense moment than this, you would have laughed at the fact that his name is rather befitting for him. “Y/N,” you respond.
“Y/N…Now, where have I heard that name before?” He tapped his chin with his hook again.
“Sir, that’s the name of Princess Ariel’s daughter,” one of the big, meaty pirates behind him answered in a gruff voice.
“That’s right!” Hook exclaimed. “You’re the mermaid’s daughter. You know, rumor has it you’ll be joining me at Merlin’s Academy in the fall, is that right?”
For some reason, your voice seemed to not work anymore, so you settled for nodding. Join him? you pondered. You didn’t know that he was also a student at the school you were planning to attend.
Hook started pacing along the beach, arms crossed with his hooked hand extended, deep in thought. You watched him, fear growing by the second. A sly smirk spread across his face, which only served to fuel the flames of your worry. 
“You know, you directly defied my command by saving that man,” he started. Slowly. Deliberately. Choosing every word precisely and carefully, like a shark circling its prey. “Do you even know why I made him walk the plank?” You shook your head no, the panic in you reaching record heights.
“That man”—he vaguely gestures towards the unconscious body laying on the beach with his hook—“stole an entire week’s worth of rations from my ship. An entire week’s worth of food and rum for an entire crew. Had he gotten away with it, we likely would have starved to death out at sea. Does he seem so innocent now, little mermaid? So worth saving?”
Again, you shook your head no. Although you agreed he definitely wasn’t an innocent man, you still didn’t see making him walk the plank a justifiable punishment. Despite your thoughts, you kept your mouth shut. Angering the captain further was not going to do you any good.
“Now, if anyone else had done something like this, I wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head right off,” Hook said menacingly, and with a swish, unsheathed his sword once again. You flinched—hard—and scrambled to back away from him. 
Hook took note of this, and, sheathing his sword, crouched down to get on the same level as you. “But don’t worry, little mermaid. I won’t hurt you. You see, you’ve piqued my interest. Plus, it would do me no favors to have a little girl’s blood on my hands.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. So he’s not going to kill me, right?
“But, alas, you can’t leave unpunished, now, can you?” he added. Your eyes grew impossibly wider, your entire body shaking in fear. This was it. He was going to kill you, or do something equally worse.
“I demand”—you already felt a tear slip down your cheek—“that you write to me for the remainder of the summer.”
Wait, what?
“W-write?” you asked in disbelief. “As in…”
“Letters,” Hook finished for you. “Write me letters. I’ll give you the mailing address of the Jolly Roger. Write me everyday, and I’ll promise I’ll write you back whenever we dock. How does that sound?”
“O-okay,” you reply, still taken aback by the peculiar, and far more lenient than you’d expected, request. That was all you had to do? Write letters? As punishment for saving the life of someone he’d ordered to die? You must be dreaming.
“Oh, and,” Hook said, voice lowered as he leaned in close to you, until he was just a hair’s breadth away from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, his alluring scent of salty winds and something richer, deeper, filling your lungs. “I look forward to seeing you in the fall. Don’t forget me, my little mermaid.”
With that, he stood up, smoothing out the lines on his pants. “You wouldn’t happen to need a ride back home, would you, love?”
You shook your head no, too terrified of him changing his mind to spend another moment in his presence. You glanced back at the man lying behind you, still unconscious. “W-what about him? What will you do with him?” you managed to choke out, somehow finding your voice again.
Hook pondered this for a long minute, before finally answering, “He can live.” You let out a shaky breath. “But only because of you, little mermaid. And only this time. You go against my wishes again, and trust me, your punishment will be far more severe.”
And with that, he went back to his ship and sailed away.
You still muse about that day, thinking how different things would have been if you had changed just one little thing.
You kept your promise of writing him letters, too afraid to know what would happen when you had to inevitably face him in the fall to break it. At first, they started out simple. Ordinary recounts of your day, your favorite things, what you liked to do. As the weeks passed, you started writing more personal letters. How you felt about certain things or certain people, including your parents. You never spoke a word of that fateful day to them, knowing that you’d be grounded for life and forbidden from swimming ever again if they caught even a whiff of the danger you had put yourself in. 
Hook kept his promise, too. He wrote you back, although it was far less frequent than your letters. Even though he kept his responses short and concise, you always ended up hearing his voice in your head as you read his notes. You soon found yourself checking your mailbox daily, even getting to know the mailman rather well. The rush of dopamine you got every time you opened it to find a letter awaiting you was unmatched; you would always run upstairs to your room, lock the door, and pour over the note. Reading every line, every word over and over again, committing them to memory. 
You don’t know why you enjoyed these little letters so much. Maybe it was the thrill of having a secret that no one else knew of, or the absence of your usual loneliness every time you were reminded that somewhere out there, across the seas, was someone awaiting your letters, reading them, and writing back to you. Whatever it was, your heart started to form an emotional attachment to him without you even realizing it. 
Unbeknownst to you, that had been his exact plan all along.
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It’s safe to say that once you started school at Merlin Academy, Hook’s—or James’s, as he insisted on you calling him—grip on you only grew. Things started out pretty normal: light conversations in class and stolen looks exchanged across the hall, mostly initiated by him. After the first few weeks passed, things between you two only grew. Secret meetings during lunch hours, rendezvous after school, and small gifts exchanged between the two of you. From there, it became brushing your hands together whenever you passed by each other, soft pecks on the cheek or forehead where there were prying eyes, and more passionate kisses when the two of you finally found time to be alone.
Truth be told, you don’t really know what you two are now. Normally, you would consider two people that partake in such actions to be courting, and you kind of assume you are. But James has never said anything about a relationship to you, and in all honesty, you’re too afraid to ask him. You feel terribly confused at his intentions towards you; on the one hand, he approaches you every day without fail, even if you try to ignore him or when your schedules don’t match up. Somehow, he always finds a way. On the other hand, he never asked you to be his lover, never even vaguely mentioned anything of the sorts. So, you decided, with a heavy heart, to not be too confident and consider yourself his partner. And unfortunately, that meant that he wasn’t yours, either.
Really, you never meant to grow so involved with the bastard pirate that threatened to kill you on the beach that day. But for some strange reason, instead of treating you coldly like he did everyone else, especially the other hero kids, he was softer with you. Considerate, even. You had half-expected him to want nothing to do with you after your first few interactions, but he kept seeking you out. You often opened your locker to a note inside, or entered your dorm to find a letter slipped beneath the door.
Today was one of those days. You had gotten a note telling you to wait for him in your usual place in the evening, after classes. So here you are, waiting, staring at the water fountain in the courtyard. You’ve always been transfixed by the way the water spurts out the center and splashes all around. It seems that whenever you’re alone with your thoughts, they always end up back to that fateful day you met James, and everything that’s happened since.
“Wait for me long, my little mermaid?” a deep voice whispers in your ear from behind. You jump only a little, far more used to James sneaking up on you now than you used to be. For some reason, it seems he loves to startle you by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close from behind, or speaking softly in your ear.
You twirl around, a delighted expression on your face, although you try to mask it with a feigned annoyance. “And if I say I did?”
“Well then, I’d have to find a way to make it up to you then, wouldn’t I, darling?” he purrs, using his hook to spin you around in his arms so you’re face-to-face. His lips make his way to yours, pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his head closer to yours, not able to get enough of his touch. 
The feeling of his skin against yours ignites something in you, and you find your mouth opening to give him more access as a soft whimper escapes your lips. One hand reaches into his hair, tugging at it gently from the base of his head, while the other one trails down the front of his shirt.
James leans into you even further, your bodies flush against each other now, as he deepens the kiss. You find yourself leaning against the edge of the water fountain, the cool sprinkles providing a welcomed contrast to your heating-up bodies.
Once you’ve completely lost your breath, you pull away just slightly, a love-drunk smile on your face. “You had a request for me?” you whisper, panting, eyes full of adoration for the man you were interlocked with. 
James breaks into a grin. A genuine one, not one of the smirks he flashes to uphold his patented suave demeanor. “Ah, yes, how could I forget, my love?”
He pulls further away to give you two enough room to breathe, yet keeping his good hand on the small of your back. “I was reminded today that it's been quite some time since I’ve heard your voice, my little mermaid.”
You give a little smile, deciding to mess with him a bit. “Whatever do you mean? You hear my voice every day. I mean, you’re even hearing it right now.”
James cocks his head to the side and raises a single eyebrow, clearly aware of your antics. “Your other voice, love.”
You giggle. “Fine, all right. Only for you,” you say, giving him a peck on the nose. 
You sit down on the ledge of the fountain, turning back to stare at the water again. Although it has been a long time since you stretched your tail and went for a swim, simply seeing the rushing water soothes you. It isn’t quite like being immersed in it, but it still gives you some semblance of comfort. 
You reach into the pool at the bottom, letting the cool water rush along your fingertips as you inhale a deep breath. Through your mermaid abilities, your voice twists into an otherworldly song, filling the space with a mellifluous sound. 
James takes a place on the ledge next to you, reaching into the water to hold your submerged hand. You don’t really feel it, too transfixed on the rushing waves. You don’t see the way James gazes at you, like you’re his entire world. The softness, the tenderness in his eyes, which he reserves for you only. He looks at you not as if you’re his sun, something too bright to ever stare directly at, something violent and explosive and harmful, but as if you’re his moon. 
As if you’re the figure he watches every night before he closes his eyes, and the one he wishes to see again when he wakes up. As if you’re the only thing he notices every time the darkness envelops him, your presence never falling off the pedestal he places it on in his mind. Never losing its worth. He looks at you, your soft glow and mesmerizing shimmer, as if you’re the only thing filling up the night sky. The stars and constellations pale in comparison to you, especially on your best nights, when you shine so magnificently. 
You are the moon, and he is the tide of the ocean, constantly being pulled in by you. Never being able to escape the grasp you have on him, the grasp you are so blissfully unaware of. He stares at you in awe and wonder, bathing in your gorgeous light, so close yet always so far away. Sitting all alone against the dark backdrop of the evening sky, waiting for him to come back to you. And without reason, you always disappear. Always leaving him wanting more, waiting till the moment he can bathe in your presence again. 
As you sing, the tide gets pulled in by the gravity of the moon. Your lyrical voice bounces off the stone walls, surrounding you both, just as the moonlight surrounds the waves on that mystical night. 
But the moonlight is only a reflection of the sun’s glow, is it not? When daylight comes, the moon will pull away from the waves, its absence in the sky all but forgotten in the sun’s presence. And as dawn breaks, so too will the pull between the moon and ocean. 
on to part 2! ->
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edenesth · 3 days
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ATEEZ as Disney Princes
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Pairing(s): disney prince!ateez x disney princess!reader
Word Count: 14.4k
A/N: The title says it all. I thought it'd be fun to do something like this for the first time, deviating from my usual one member per story format teehee. Special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for helping me decide which Disney princes San, Mingi, and Wooyoung should be💘
ATEEZ MASTERLIST
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Hongjoong ↠ Li Shang (Mulan)
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• Leadership • Discipline • Protector •
"The Huns have struck here, here, and here," the senior General Kim pointed to the map, his voice steady and commanding. "I will lead the main troops to the Tung Shao Pass and stop Shan-Yu before he destroys this village. You will stay behind and train the new recruits. When Chi Fu believes you're ready, you will join us, Captain."
"Captain?" Hongjoong repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. This was the moment he had been dreaming of for as long as he could remember. He had trained the hardest and longest among his batch, fighting tirelessly to prove his worth to his commanding officer. It was finally his time to shine and demonstrate his capabilities.
"I believe you will do an excellent job," General Kim affirmed.
"Oh, I will. I won't let you down, sir," the younger man replied with determination.
It was during the Imperial dynasty in China that, as the Huns attempted to invade, the nation plunged into war. Yet, not all hope was lost. The young and fiery Captain Hongjoong was assigned to take charge of the new recruits. He would motivate them and push them to reach their full potential. His ability to inspire and lead by example would soon become evident as he transformed a group of untrained soldiers into a disciplined unit.
Throughout the training, Hongjoong enforces strict discipline among his soldiers. He sets high standards and expectations, ensuring that the recruits develop the necessary skills and physical conditioning through rigorous exercises. His disciplined approach is crucial in preparing them for the challenges ahead.
You would know this firsthand. Despite your best efforts, you had lost hope, feeling out of place because, at the end of the day, you were not a man. But Hongjoong didn't know that. No one in the camp knew.
"You're unsuited for the rage of war. So pack up and go home," he had said, shaking his head in disappointment as he stalked off.
There was something about him that made you want to fight harder, to prove that you could do what the other soldiers could. To his pleasant surprise, he emerged from his tent the following morning to see your fellow soldiers applauding you for successfully completing the toughest task in the camp.
This was exactly what he wanted to see.
You used to fear him for his harsh and uncompromising behaviour, but now you understand. In the face of war, no one would show you kindness or consideration. Captain Hongjoong was doing exactly what he needed to prepare everyone for that reality.
"You think your troops are ready to fight?" Chi Fu scoffed. "They wouldn't last a minute against the Huns!"
Hongjoong scowled, clenching his fists. "They completed their training."
"Those boys are no more fit to be soldiers than you are to be a captain. Once the general reads my report, your troops will never see battle," Chi Fu sneered, gesturing for the younger man to leave.
"We're not finished!" Hongjoong called out, grabbing the man's arm.
"Be careful, Captain. The general may be your father, but I am the Emperor's counsel. And I got that job on my own. You're dismissed," Chi Fu said snarkily, pulling open the flap of his tent.
There it was—the comment Hongjoong hated most. Being called the son of General Kim. He had heard enough whispers of nepotism, undermining his hard-earned success. He didn't want to be seen as just the general's son; he had worked tirelessly to earn his position.
He stormed out of the tent, surprised to see you standing there. "Hey, I'll hold him, and you punch," you joked nervously, but he frowned and continued walking. "Or not." You bit your lip as he walked away. "For what it's worth, I think you're a great captain."
His steps faltered for a moment, and he turned to meet your eyes briefly. In that fleeting glance, his eyes seemed to show what looked like a hint of appreciation before he continued on his way.
At least someone still believed in him.
And that someone was… a girl.
Hongjoong discovered this during the mountain battle when the Huns ambushed and you saved him. You had lied, fooling everyone, even him. How dare you? How dare you… try to save your father's life by volunteering to fight in the war? After the initial feelings of disappointment and betrayal, he realised just how brave you were—a quality that put cowardly men to shame.
Not only that, your perseverance had ended up saving China, something he couldn't have done without you.
Guilt overwhelmed him after leaving you behind, injured and alone on the snowy mountain, after you had risked your life to save his. The image of you lying vulnerable and exposed in the small tent haunted him—your hair finally let down, revealing your true identity; your petite frame contrasting with the fabric tightly wrapped around your chest to hide your gender. In his emotional turmoil at the time, he had abandoned you. But if he could do it over, he knew he would have done everything differently to protect you.
That's why he was determined to make up for his mistake by protecting you now, even though he knew deep down that he would have protected you regardless.
"Where is she?! Now she's done it! What a mess! Stand aside! That creature's not worth protecting," the Emperor's counsel screeched, trying to push past Hongjoong, who was shielding you. He gestured toward the destroyed portion of the palace from your earlier battle with Shan-Yu and his men.
The captain stood his ground. "She's a hero."
"She's a woman. She'll never be worth anything."
"Listen, you pompous..." Hongjoong growled, grabbing Chi Fu by the collar.
"That's enough!" the Emperor roared, breaking the two apart. The focus shifted to what was truly important: the fact that the war was finally over, thanks to a certain female warrior.
While Hongjoong possessed exceptional leadership skills, discipline, and a protective nature, he still had moments of foolishness.
"You, uhh... you fight good."
Was that all he could muster? After everything you had been through together, perhaps you were overthinking it. Maybe he didn't see you in that way at all. Maybe you were just another good soldier to him.
"Oh. Thank you."
Like an idiot, he watched you depart, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. Unbeknownst to him, the Emperor appeared beside him, clearing his throat before speaking, "The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all."
"Sir?" Hongjoong blinked in confusion.
"You don't meet a girl like that in every dynasty," the Emperor remarked, indirectly calling the captain a fool, shaking his head in disbelief before returning to the palace.
Finally grasping the meaning behind His Excellency's words, Captain Hongjoong hastily mounted the nearest horse and rode swiftly to your family estate. He should have recognised the affection he felt for you sooner. Gosh, he truly had been clueless.
He arrived just in time to interrupt your tearful reunion with your father. "Uhh… you forgot your helmet!" he stuttered, turning awkwardly to the elderly man beside you, the one you had gone to war for. "W-well, actually, it's your helmet, isn't it? I mean…"
You suppressed a smile, feeling your heart flutter as you understood his obvious reason for visiting. Stepping closer to him, you reached out to accept the helmet. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"
He blushed. "Dinner would be great."
Seonghwa ↠ Prince Charming (Cinderella)
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• Gentlemanly • Graceful • Loyal •
"Miss! Are you alright?" the prince called out after helping you rein in your horse, which had been racing out of control. You huffed in frustration. "I'm fine, but you nearly scared the life out of him."
He frowned, confused. "Who?"
"The stag," you replied incredulously. How could he act so innocent when he and his group had been hunting down a poor creature? "What did he ever do to you to deserve being chased like that?"
His Highness struggled to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. The way you spoke of the animal as if it were a dear friend was endearing, and he could see that you genuinely cared for the animal. Not many girls your age, at least those he had met, would show such compassion. "Miss, what do they call you?"
Your smile faltered, memories of the cruel names your stepmother and stepsisters used flashing in your mind. "It doesn't matter what they call me."
"You shouldn't be this deep in the forest alone," he pointed out.
"I'm not alone. I'm with you, Mister...?" you said lightly, before pausing and glancing at him curiously. "What do they call you?"
Realising you had no clue who he was, he chuckled. "You don't know who I am?" His expression softened when he saw that you truly didn't recognise him. "Well... they call me Seonghwa. At least, my father does when he's in a good mood."
There was something refreshing about meeting someone who didn't know his royal identity, and he felt strangely free at this moment. Determined to keep it that way, he quickly came up with white lies to conceal the truth. Just then, you noticed the group of men who had been hunting with him gallop by, and you swallowed nervously. "You'll leave the stag alone, won't you?"
He paused, captivated by your sincerity and beauty—both inside and out—before nodding slowly. "I will."
"If I must marry, why not a good, honest country girl?" Seonghwa slyly suggested, posing for his portrait as part of the preparations for the royal ball, where he was expected to find a bride. Ever since meeting you that day in the woods, you hadn't left his thoughts.
The Grand Duke barely held back a chuckle. "And how many strong alliances will this 'good, honest country girl' provide us? How will she strengthen the kingdom? We are a small nation surrounded by powerful states, Your Royal Highness, and it's a dangerous world."
His Majesty sighed at the man's sarcastic tone and approached his son. "Listen, boy. I want to see you safe—and the kingdom secure."
Seonghwa's expression darkened at the gentle rejection. "Alright, Father, but on one condition. Let the invitations go to everyone, not just the nobility. The wars have brought grief to all of us."
That was all it took to set things in motion. "A ball for the people, a princess for the prince," the advisor muttered, unaware of how determined His Highness truly was. His plan to see you again was falling into place.
Days later, as you wandered through the town market, you heard the town crier make the announcement. "Know that in two weeks, a Royal Ball will be held at the palace. At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the prince shall choose a bride. Furthermore, by the prince's request, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or commoner, is invited to attend. Such is the command of our most noble king."
Eager to see the apprentice—at least, that's what he claimed to be—whom you'd met in the forest just the other day, you rushed home to share the news with your stepmother and stepsisters, brimming with excitement. But, of course, things were not going to unfold the way you had hoped.
"You shall not go to the ball!" were your stepmother's cruel words after she ripped apart your mother's old gown.
Yet here you stood, in front of everyone in the grand hall, now adorned in a magical gown and sparkling glass slippers, thanks to your fairy godmother. The prince's face lit up the moment he saw you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world—and to him, you were. No one could ever compare.
"Mr. Seonghwa," you called softly as the crowd parted, allowing you to approach him. His heart melted at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's you, isn't it?" he asked, smiling. "It is," you replied with a smile of your own.
Gathering his courage, he swallowed nervously. "If I may—it would be the greatest honour if you'd allow me to lead you in this first dance."
Your heart fluttered, and you nodded. With your permission, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. The proximity made your breath hitch as your hand rested on his shoulder. He spun you around, and for a moment, you caught the eyes of the crowd. "They're all looking at you," you whispered, turning to face him again.
He smiled softly, shaking his head. "Trust me, they're all looking at you." In that moment, nothing else mattered to him but you. Holding you close, he couldn't tear his eyes away, not even for a second. He could stay like this forever.
"So, you're the prince!" you exclaimed as he led you away from the crowd into a secluded room, offering you both a moment of peace and quiet.
"Not the prince, exactly," he replied with a playful grin. "There are plenty of princes in the world. I'm just a prince."
You chuckled softly. "But your name's not really Seonghwa, is it?"
He laughed. "Oh, it is. My father still calls me that—especially when he's not too irritated with me."
As you both shared a laugh, your eyes landed on a portrait hanging on the wall. "Is that you?" you asked curiously, moving toward it.
He sighed. "Ugh, I hate how I look in paintings. Don't you?"
You shrugged. "No one's ever painted my portrait."
He paused, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "No? Well, they should."
For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as you stared at one another, neither wanting the moment to end. Reluctant to part from you, Seonghwa led you out into the palace garden.
"What's bothering you?" you asked, noticing the flicker of concern in his eyes as you strolled down the grassy paths.
He forced a smile. "When I go back, they'll try to marry me off to a lady of their choosing. I'm expected to marry for political advantage."
You gave him a gentle smile. "But surely you have a right to follow your own heart."
He sighed, wishing that were true. Not wanting the evening to end just yet, he guided you to a hidden spot. "A secret garden," you murmured in awe, stepping into the beautiful, secluded space. In the centre stood a swing, and at his insistence, he pushed you gently, laughing together until one of your glass slippers slipped off.
Like the gentleman he was, Seonghwa immediately knelt down to help you put it back on. Once it was secure, you found yourself sitting close to him, your breaths catching as he remained on his knees, gazing up at you.
"Won't you tell me who you really are?" he asked softly, a hint of desperation in his voice.
You swallowed nervously. "If I do, everything might change."
His expression tugged at your heart. "I don't understand... Can you at least tell me your name?"
You hesitated, then whispered, "My name is—"
The loud chime of the clock rang out, striking midnight. Panic surged through you. "I have to go! It's... hard to explain. Thank you for a wonderful evening. I've loved every moment!" were your final words as you hurried away.
"Miss, you are requested and required to present yourself before your king," said the captain of the royal guard, as your cruel stepmother finally unlocked the door to your attic room.
The king...?
That could only mean Seonghwa, with his father having recently passed. Despite your stepmother's desperate attempts to stop you, she could no longer keep you from meeting him. With nervous breaths, you made your way down to the living hall where he waited. Would you be enough? There was no magic to help you now.
"Who are you?" he asked, holding the single glass slipper in his hand.
With a deep breath, you finally spoke your truth. "Your Majesty, I'm no princess. I have no carriage, no parents, and no dowry. I don't even know if that beautiful slipper will fit. But if it does, will you take me as I am? An honest country girl who loves you."
A soft smile spread across his face. His loyalty has only ever been to you and only you from the very beginning. "Of course I will. But only if you will take me as I am."
In that final moment of truth, you sat before him just like that night, and without hesitation, Seonghwa gently slipped the shoe onto your foot. It fit perfectly. After searching the entire kingdom to find you, you were finally here, his at last.
A few days later, you stood beside him in a wedding gown, facing the people as their queen. "My Queen," he whispered, cupping your face amidst the cheers of the crowd.
"My Hwa," you murmured, just before he pressed his lips firmly against yours.
Yunho ↠ Prince Phillip (Sleeping Beauty)
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• Brave • Romantic • Strong-willed •
"We want you to go pick some berries! Lots of berries! But take your time, dear. Don't wander too far, and remember—no talking to strangers! Goodbye, dear," your three godmothers chimed in unison as you waved them off. They were so charmingly silly, and though you knew they were up to something for your 16th birthday, you played along and agreed to leave the cosy little cottage you'd grown up in.
What you didn't know was that your godmothers were feeling bittersweet. After the celebration, they would be returning you to your true parents—the king and queen. They had kept you hidden all these years from Maleficent's curse, and now, believing it was finally safe, they prepared to send you home. Or so they thought.
Completely unaware of this, you happily made your way to the forest where you often spent your days, swinging the empty basket in your hand and singing a familiar tune.
Not far off, Yunho caught the sound of your voice—the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He pulled his horse to a stop, biting his lip in wonder. "What is that? It's... beautiful." Turning toward the source of the melody, he couldn't resist. "Come on, let's go find out."
In his haste to reach you, his horse galloped ahead, easily leaping over a low log—unfortunately, not quite low enough for the prince. Yunho yelped as he was thrown into a shallow pond, landing with a splash. He groaned, unamused, as his horse sheepishly returned, having noticed his rider was no longer on board.
So much for chasing the magical voice. Now he was stuck with wet clothes, needing to dry off before he could continue his search.
"Why do they still treat me like a child? They never let me meet anyone..." you sighed, speaking to the animals gathered around you. "But guess what? I tricked them. I have met someone—a prince. He's tall, handsome, and... so romantic. We walk together, talk together, and just before we say goodbye, he takes me in his arms, and then..." you teased with a playful smile. "I wake up."
"Yes, it's only in my dreams."
Pushing aside your wistful thoughts, you continued to sing softly while gathering berries. But to your surprise, another voice joined in—a deep, masculine voice. Before you knew it, a pair of arms gently mirrored the way yours had been swaying in your daydream.
"Oh. Oh!" you gasped, pulling away as you realised this wasn't a dream. A man was standing before you, real and not imagined. Not wanting to frighten you, he kept his distance and bowed politely. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
You blinked, trying to calm your racing heart as you took in his features—he looked exactly like the man you had seen in your dreams. "Oh, it's not that... it's just that you're a..."
As you instinctively stepped back, he gently reached for your hand. "A stranger?" he finished for you, and you nodded. Before you could pull away, he smiled and held on softly. "But don't you remember? We've met before."
"We... have?" you whispered, your voice faltering.
He nodded, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Of course. You said so yourself. Once upon a dream."
You couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips as you turned away, amused by how he cleverly quoted your song. At first, you resisted, but soon you found yourself in his arms, dancing to the tune you had been singing. Except this time, you were no longer alone—you were dancing with him.
As if caught in a dream, you eventually leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you stood beneath a tree, gazing out at the beautiful view. His voice was soft when he asked, "Who are you? What's your name?"
"My name..." you started, staring up into his eyes, momentarily mesmerised by them. You almost gave him your name, but then reality hit you—you didn't even know him. With a gasp, you pulled away from his hold. "No, no, I can't. I—I have to go! Goodbye!"
Yunho panicked, not ready to let you slip away. Call it love at first sight, but he knew, deep down, you were the one. "But when will I see you again?" he called out, his eyes filled with longing as he watched you retreat into the forest.
"Tonight! At the cottage in the glen!" you blurted out, against your better judgement. Deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of leaving and never seeing him again either.
"This is the happiest day of my life!" you exclaimed, admiring the beautiful dress and the delicious cake your godmothers had made for you. "Everything is so perfect. Just wait until you meet him!"
"Him? Y-you've met a stranger?" one of the fairies asked, concerned.
You smiled dreamily. "Oh, he's not a stranger. We've met before—once upon a dream."
The fairies exchanged worried glances, their hearts breaking as they realised... you were in love. "Oh no, this is terrible. You're already betrothed."
"Betrothed?" Your heart sank.
"Since the day you were born, dear. To Prince Yunho."
You frowned in disbelief. "But that's impossible! How could I marry a prince? I'd have to be..."
"A princess," they finished for you. "And you are, dear. Tonight, we're taking you back to your father, King Stefan."
Shaking your head, you struggled to process the sudden revelation. "But... I can't! He's coming here tonight. I promised to meet him."
"We're sorry, child, but you must never see that young man again," one of them said softly.
It felt like a cruel joke. Just when you had finally met the man of your dreams, it all crumbled. That night, you cried yourself to sleep, your 16th birthday turning into something far from the magical day you had hoped for. And it was only going to get worse.
With a curse of eternal sleep.
"Oh, come now, Prince Yunho. Why so melancholy?" Maleficent's sinister voice echoed through the dungeon as he lifted his head, his hands shackled in heavy chains. She had trapped him during his visit to your vacant cottage and now kept him imprisoned on her Forbidden Mountain. "A wondrous future lies before you," she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You, the destined hero of a charming fairy tale come true."
With a wave of her hand over the glowing crystal ball atop her staff, she smirked. "Behold, King Stefan's castle." A vision slowly materialised in the crystal, and his heart sank.
"In the highest tower, dreaming of her true love, lies the princess," Maleficent sneered. "But in a cruel twist of fate, this sleeping beauty is none other than the peasant girl who won your heart just yesterday." Her grin widened as the image shifted. "In an ageless sleep, she rests, untouched by time. A hundred years will pass in the blink of an eye for a steadfast heart."
The crystal revealed an older, wearier version of His Highness. "And now, the gates of the dungeon open, and our valiant prince rides forth, tall and noble, to wake his love with a kiss—proving that true love conquers all!"
Her wicked laughter filled the air as the prince surged to his feet, straining against the chains. The revelation hit him hard—you were his betrothed all along. His heart shattered at the sight of you, cursed to an endless sleep. But he refused to wait idly for a century. No matter the cost, even if it took his life, nothing would stop him from reaching you and breaking the spell.
Through trials that nearly cost him his life more than once, Yunho pressed on, driven by a love that burned stronger than fear. Every step, every swing of his sword, had been for you. Now, as he climbed the winding staircase of the tower where you lay, his heart pounded louder than it ever had. Strangely, facing you was far more terrifying than battling a dragon or plummeting from a cliff.
What if his kiss didn't wake you? What if he wasn't the one you dreamed of all this time? His mind raced with doubts, but all of them vanished the moment he laid eyes on you.
There you were, peacefully resting, untouched by the passage of time. His breath caught in his throat as he knelt beside you, his hands trembling slightly, almost afraid that if he reached out, you might disappear like a fading dream. Gently, he lifted a hand to brush your hair away from your face, his fingers lingering as they drifted down to caress your cheek. The softness of your skin beneath his touch made his heart clench. God, you were beautiful. Even in this endless sleep, you were breathtaking, and the thought that you were his—the one his heart had longed for—was almost too much to believe.
Ignoring the wild rhythm of his heartbeat, he leaned in closer. He hesitated, his lips hovering above yours, terrified and hopeful. Slowly, he closed the distance, pressing his lips tenderly against yours, his touch as gentle as a whisper. Time seemed to stand still. His entire world narrowed down to that single, precious moment.
Then, something incredible happened. He felt you stir, your lips moving ever so softly in response to his. Tears welled up in his eyes as he pulled back slightly, his gaze searching your face, desperate to see the miracle of your awakening. "Please," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "come back to me."
A soft smile played on your lips as your eyes fluttered open. "I'm here, stranger," you murmured. Yunho let out a tearful laugh, pure joy flooding his heart as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Nothing had ever felt so perfect.
Yeosang ↠ Hercules (Hercules)
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• Strength • Determination • Humility •
A scream pierced the air, and without a second thought, Yeosang urged Pegasus to dive down past the clouds toward the waterfall, where a damsel was clearly in distress. This was it—his first real chance to prove himself as a true hero. Soon enough, he'd restore his godhood and join his parents back in Olympus.
"I swear, Nessus, put me down or I'll—" you growled, struggling in the grasp of the River Guardian, a centaur who was supposed to be an ally on your mission for Hades, but he was proving to be more trouble than he was worth.
"Ooh, I like 'em fiery," the creature sneered, pulling you closer as you tried in vain to wriggle free.
The hero-in-training gasped, his blood boiling at the sight of you being manhandled. Not on his watch. Ignoring his trainer's advice to assess the situation, he charged forward recklessly. Phil groaned. "This kid is losing hero points fast!"
"Halt!" Yeosang called out, though his voice wavered when Nessus towered over him. "Excuse me, sir," he continued, much to the centaur's surprise. Who was this polite little pest? "I'll have to ask you to release that young la—"
You shot him a frustrated look. "Keep walking, junior."
He blinked, confused. "But... aren't you a damsel in distress?"
"I'm a damsel, I'm in distress," you snapped. "I can handle it. Have a nice day." Despite your sarcastic smile, you were still stuck in the centaur's grip, struggling to break free.
Yeosang, however, wasn't one to give up so easily. A bit flustered by your brush-off, he unsheathed his sword. "Ma'am, I think you might be too close to the situation to—" Before he could finish, Nessus sent him flying across the field.
After several clumsy attempts and a lot of trial and error, he finally managed to free you from the River Guardian's hold, though you both ended up soaked in the river. Quickly, he lifted you out of the water as if you weighed nothing and set you gently on a nearby log. "Oh, gosh, miss, I'm really sorry. That was... kind of dumb."
"Yeah," you replied with a crooked smile, wringing out your hair. Before you could say anything more, he dashed back into the fray. You smirked, amused by his naive determination and innocent sense of righteousness. It had been a while since you'd seen such a genuine do-gooder. "Is Wonderboy here for real?"
"So, did they give you a name to go with all those rippling pectorals?" you teased, bending over to adjust the skirt of your dress.
The hero's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he stared at you, now bathed in the golden light of the sunset. You were a sight for sore eyes—more beautiful than Aphrodite herself, he dared to think.
He chuckled nervously, stammering like a shy schoolboy. "Uh, I'm—I… uh…"
You smirked, standing back up and retrieving the shoes he had been awkwardly holding for you. "Are you always this articulate?"
"Yeosang!" he blurted out, watching you walk away. "My... my name's Yeosang!"
Making your way to a nearby log to sit down, you glanced up at him with a playful grin. "Yeosang, huh? I think I prefer Wonderboy."
He bit his lip, completely unaware of how poorly he was hiding his emotions. It was obvious to anyone that he was completely mesmerised by you. "So, how'd you get tangled up with that..."
"Pinhead with hooves? Oh, you know how men are. They think 'no' means 'yes' and 'get lost' means 'take me, I'm yours,'" you quipped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. He blinked, clearly confused by your response. You rolled your eyes and gestured toward his trainer. "Don't worry, shorty here will explain it to you later."
Phil shot you an irritated glare, but you just waved him off. "Well, thanks for everything, Yeo. It's been a real slice."
You had barely taken a few steps when the hero called after you again, his voice full of determination. "Wait! Can we give you a ride?"
You glanced at Pegasus and Phil, both clearly unimpressed with you, and smirked. "Nah, I'll be fine. I'm a big, tough girl. I tie my own sandals and everything."
Leaning in, you gave him a quick boop on the nose, chuckling as he stood there with that dreamy smile still plastered on his face. "Bye-bye, Wonderboy."
You hadn't expected to see him again so soon, but there he was, and you had to act fast. Running up to him, you let out a false cry. "Please! Help! There's been a terrible accident!" You hated dragging him into this, but with Hades holding your freedom hostage, you had no choice. You had to lure him into the trap.
The hero's face brightened the moment he saw you, your name escaping his lips with excitement. After his earlier failure in Thebes, seeing you lifted his spirits. He needed this—he needed you.
"Wonderboy! Yeosang! Thank goodness!" you exclaimed, stumbling into his arms with an air of desperation. His grip on you tightened protectively, his eyes wide with concern. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice full of worry.
Sniffling, you wiped your fake tears away. "Outside of town... two little boys. They were playing in the gorge. There was a terrible rockslide. They're trapped!"
"Kids? Trapped? This is my chance! Come on!" Before you could object, he had already hoisted you onto Pegasus despite your protests. "No, wait! I... I have a terrible fear of heights!" But it was too late—you were already in the sky, holding on tightly as the wind whipped past.
When you finally arrived, he noticed how shaken you seemed. His brow furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"
You nodded weakly. "I'll be fine." But even then, he gently pulled you close, helping you down. The flutter in your chest was unwelcome—you shouldn't feel this way. You stayed back, watching as he rushed forward, unaware of the Hydra waiting to destroy him. Hades had set it up perfectly, and this was Yeosang's end. You should have focused on your own survival, but you couldn't help whispering under your breath, "Get out of here while you still can..."
Despite everything, he wasn't deterred. Time and again, he fought against what seemed like a certain defeat, his determination unshakable. Even after facing near death, he refused to give up, ultimately defeating the monster.
As much as you hated to admit it, seeing him fight with such bravery and resolve stirred something inside you. His courage, his power—it only deepened your admiration for him.
"Wow, what a day," Yeosang said with a wide grin, descending the stairs into the picturesque garden. "First, that restaurant by the bay, and then the play!" His voice was animated, clearly still buzzing from the events of your date. Meanwhile, you struggled to maintain your smile, Hades' voice echoing in your mind with his latest demand. His patience was thinning after so many failed attempts. Now, he wanted you to find the hero's weakness.
When he turned to you, thanking you for such a wonderful time, you winced inwardly. "Don't thank me just yet," you muttered, setting your plan into motion. You deliberately tripped on the stairs, conveniently falling into his strong arms.
"Oops! Weak ankles," you murmured, biting your lip as you savoured the feeling of being so close to him. His grip was firm yet gentle.
"Yeah? Maybe you should sit down for a bit," he suggested like the gentleman he always was, carrying you over to a bench and setting you down with care. But how long would he stay a gentleman?
You shrugged, letting one of your dress straps slide down your shoulder, flashing him a seductive smile. "So, do you have any problems like this?" you asked, testing the waters as you slowly lifted one leg onto his lap. "Weak ankles, I mean."
His eyes widened, and he cleared his throat, gently but firmly pushing your leg back down. "Oh, no. Not really..." he stammered, inching away while you leaned in closer.
"No weaknesses at all?" you teased, pressing against his chest. "No trick knee? Ruptured discs?"
Yeosang just chuckled nervously, his face reddening. Instead of falling for your flirtation, he reached over and pulled your strap back over your shoulder. "Nope. I'm... fit as a fiddle," he said, quickly moving away toward the fountain, where he clumsily tossed a coin and knocked over a statue.
You sighed, walking over to him. "Wonderboy, you're perfect," you muttered with a teasing laugh. Time seemed to freeze as your eyes met his, a flicker of something different passing between you. Biting your lip, you quickly looked away. Maybe, just maybe, he really was different from the men who had hurt you before.
"You know, when I was a kid, I would've given anything to be just like everyone else," Yeosang said softly, his eyes tracing the path of a shooting star across the night sky.
You scoffed, crossing your arms as you moved away to sit by the water, staring at your reflection with a bitter frown. "You wanted to be petty and dishonest?" You knew what people were like—you were one of them.
His smile faltered. "Not everyone's like that."
"Yes, they are," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.
"You're not like that," he said gently, appearing behind you. You smirked, feeling a tightness in your throat as you tried to keep your emotions in check. "How do you know what I'm like?" you croaked, wishing he'd stop making it so hard for you.
"All I know is you're the most amazing person with weak ankles I've ever met," he teased, his voice full of warmth. You chuckled until he continued, "When I'm with you, I don't feel so alone."
You avoided his gaze, your heart aching. "Sometimes it's better to be alone."
His smile faltered again. "What do you mean?"
You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper. "Nobody can hurt you."
He sat down beside you, reaching out to take your hands in his. "I would never, ever hurt you."
If only he knew...
Before you could say anything, he was already leaning in. Against your better judgement, your eyes fluttered closed, anticipation hanging between you. But just as your lips were about to meet, Pegasus and Phil appeared, breaking the moment and pulling Yeosang back to his training.
"I'm sorry for getting you in trouble," you murmured, feeling conflicted.
He just smiled, shaking his head, and handed you a small flower, gently pressing a kiss to your cheek. As he walked away, you were left behind—completely a mess.
"Wonderboy, why did you…?" you croaked, your voice weak after returning from death—literally. Yeosang had been crushed when he learned of your betrayal, discovering you had been working for Hades all along. But as you sacrificed yourself to save him, he realised none of that mattered anymore. Why hadn't he thought deeper about your reasons? If only he had understood that maybe you didn't have a choice.
In his selfless determination to exchange his life for yours, he had finally become a true hero. Tears welled up in his eyes as he helped you to your feet, pulling you gently back into his loving arms. "People always do crazy things when they're in love," he whispered—the same words you had said to him before your death.
So, he had felt the same all along.
"Now, at last, my son, you can come home," Zeus said, resting a proud hand on Yeosang's shoulder as he gestured to the now-open gates of Mount Olympus. The hero, now a god, beamed as the other gods swarmed him, celebrating his return.
From afar, you watched with a fading smile. Of course, he belonged to a different world. You were foolish to think you could ever truly be with him. "Congratulations, Wonderboy. You'll make one heck of a god," you whispered to yourself, turning to walk away.
But while the heavens rejoiced, Yeosang only had eyes for one person. His heart sank when he saw you leaving. "Father, this is the moment I've dreamed of my whole life, but…" He trailed off, racing after you and catching your hand. "A life without her, even an immortal life, would be empty. I… I wish to stay on Earth with her. I finally know where I belong."
And with that, he pulled you into his arms, the divine glow fading as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours at last.
San ↠ Kristoff (Frozen)
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• Down-to-earth • Hardworking • Quirky •
"I was just wondering... has another young woman, maybe the queen, passed through here?" you asked, trying to sound casual, even though the bitter cold from Elsa's winter had you shivering uncontrollably. You were gathering what supplies you could from Wandering Oaken's Trading Post on your journey to find your sister. You needed to fix this, and to do that, she had to return to Arendelle.
"The only one crazy enough to be out in this storm is you, dear," the store owner chuckled, and you offered him an awkward smile. Before you could respond, the door suddenly swung open and slammed shut just as quickly. A man, completely covered in snow—literally—stepped in with a weary sigh, shaking off the frost by the entrance.
"You and this fellow," Oaken added, gesturing to the newcomer.
Without a word, the man walked straight to the counter, forcing you to step aside awkwardly. "Carrots," he muttered, stepping closer.
"Huh?" you blinked, confused by how close he was.
"Behind you," he clarified, and you realised you were blocking the carrots he was reaching for. Feeling a bit foolish, you quickly moved aside. "Oh! Right, sorry."
Through his conversation with the store owner, you caught a crucial piece of information. "The North Mountain..." you murmured to yourself, eyes narrowing in thought. That must be where Elsa had gone. At least now you had a lead—north it was.
"That'll be forty," Oaken said, ringing up the man's items.
"Forty? No, ten," the man countered, clearly unimpressed.
Deep in thought, you barely registered the tense negotiation between the two, both stubborn and unwilling to compromise. You only snapped back when you heard the man explain his dilemma—he sold ice for a living, and in this weather, he wasn't making any money. "Look, ten is all I've got. Help me out."
Before Oaken could respond, you jumped in. "Wait, just tell me one thing. What's happening on the North Mountain? Did it seem… magical?" There was desperation in your voice.
With an exasperated sigh, the man pulled down his scarf, revealing, to your surprise, a strikingly handsome face. For a second, you had thought him a brute. "Yes! Now back off while I deal with this crook."
Big mistake. The store owner stood up from his seat, towering over the both of you like a giant. "What did you call me?" And before the man knew it, he was tossed out of the shop—minus his carrots.
"Nice duet," you quipped, pushing open the door to the shack where you heard the man from earlier, now singing and impersonating his reindeer, Sven.
Startled, San jumped up defensively, only to relax with a sigh when he saw it was just you. "It's you again. What do you want?"
Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward with determination. "I want you to take me up the North Mountain."
He remained unimpressed, sinking back down to resume his sleep. "I don't take people places."
You should've known it wouldn't be that easy. "Let me rephrase," you said, tossing a bag at him. He jolted up, wheezing from the impact. "Take me up the North Mountain," you repeated more firmly, though you softened a little as he raised a brow. "Please?"
Sven started sniffing the bag, drawing his attention. San opened it to find the tools he'd been after. You bit your lip. "Look, I know how to stop this winter."
With a sigh, he pulled his beanie over his face. "Ugh, we leave at dawn." Just as you were about to celebrate, he added, "And you forgot the carrots for Sven."
Frustrated but undeterred, you hurled another bag at him, this time hitting him square in the face. He grunted in pain, sitting up again. Your eyes widened in panic. "Oops! Sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—" you stammered before regaining your composure. Clearing your throat, you declared firmly, "We leave now. Right now." You turned and marched out, letting out a breath of relief the moment you were out of sight. He really was intimidating.
Unbeknownst to you, he watched you leave, eyebrows narrowed. Not out of anger, but something else—a mix of mild annoyance and, oddly enough, admiration. You were quite the character.
"So, uhh, tell me—what made the queen go all ice-crazy?" San asked, trying to pry some information as the two of you sat on his sled, the cold winter night biting at your skin.
You gulped, unsure where to begin. "Well... it was kinda my fault. I got engaged, and she freaked out because I'd just met him that day, you know? She refused to bless the marriage and..." You trailed off, noticing the way he was staring at you.
"Wait, hold on—you got engaged to someone you just met that day?" he asked, his face a mix of disbelief and judgement.
You nodded, waving it off like it was no big deal. "Yeah, anyway, I got mad, she got mad, she tried to leave, and I grabbed her glove..."
He blinked and turned fully towards you. "Hang on! You're telling me you got engaged to a guy you just met that day?"
"Yes," you sighed in frustration. "Pay attention. The point is, she always wore gloves, so I figured maybe she has a thing about dirt or something."
San couldn't believe what he was hearing. You'd agreed to marry someone you'd only met that very day? Even if that someone was a prince, at the end of the day, he was just another man. The idea of it baffled him to no end. He couldn't help the surge of protectiveness that welled up in him. Sure, you seemed a little silly and unhinged compared to the girls he'd met, but you were still an innocent young woman—too trusting for your own good. And that could get you in serious trouble.
If judgemental had a face, it was sitting right next to you. "Didn't your parents ever warn you about strangers?"
You paused, the comment sinking in, and shifted uncomfortably, inching away from him. "Yes, they did. But Hans isn't a stranger."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That led to a back-and-forth about how much you really knew the Prince of the Southern Isles. The more you talked, the more San found himself silently shaking his head at your naivety, though he couldn't help but feel a small, growing fondness for you, as crazy as your story was.
Suddenly, he stiffened. "Stop talking."
You scoffed, still mid-argument. "No, no—"
Before you could finish, he slapped a hand over your mouth. "No, I mean it," his voice tense, eyes scanning the dark forest ahead.
"Wolves?" you asked anxiously, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of your chest. "What do we do?"
"I got this," he said, busy moving around like he knew exactly what he was doing. But your nerves wouldn’t let you sit still. "Just… don't fall off and don't get eaten."
You frowned, stepping up beside him. "But I want to help!"
"No!" he barked, pulling you back.
"Why not?!"
"Because I don't trust your judgement!"
Your jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
"Who marries a guy she just met?!" he shouted as he pushed you behind him and kicked away a wolf that had nearly pounced on you.
"It's true love!" you yelled back, swinging his guitar wildly. Startling him, but you managed to knock another wolf away. "Woah!"
Slightly impressed, he froze for a second, but in that moment of distraction, a wolf sank its teeth into his jacket, pulling him off the sled. You gasped, screaming, "Santiago!"
He grunted, grabbing onto the sled's rope, and glaring up at you. "It's San!"
"Ow!" he yelped as the wolves bit into his back. Despite barely knowing him, your heart dropped, hoping he wasn't seriously hurt. In a burst of quick thinking, you grabbed a bundle of cloth, lit it on fire, and threw it at the wolves, scaring them off.
As you regained control, you realised the sled was speeding toward the edge of a mountain. Your breath caught in your throat—the only way to make it across was if the reindeer jumped. "Get ready to jump, Sven!"
San shot you a look. "You don't tell him what to do. I do!" He shoved a bag into your arms before tossing you onto Sven's back. As you neared the cliff's edge, he shouted and cut the rope tying the reindeer to the sled. "Jump, Sven!"
After landing dangerously close to the mountain's edge, San's sled lay in ruins below, and he muttered something about just having paid it off. The narrow escape from death weighed heavily on you, especially when you saw him lying on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes in sheer exhaustion. He was so done.
"I-I'll replace your sled and everything in it," you mumbled, guilt creeping into your voice. "And... I get it if you don't want to help me anymore." With a heavy sigh, you turned and started walking away, your heart sinking. Of course, he wouldn't want to stick around now. You'd caused him nothing but trouble, and he hadn't even volunteered to come with you—it was all your fault.
San groaned in frustration, his reindeer nudging him persistently, nodding toward your retreating, disheartened figure. "Of course, I don't want to help her anymore," he grumbled, sitting up. "This whole mess has cured me of ever helping anyone again."
"She'll die out there on her own," Sven's eyes seemed to say.
"I can live with that," San muttered, though his voice lacked confidence.
"But no new sled if she's dead!" The silent reasoning gnawed at him.
He slumped, casting an irritated glare at Sven. "Sometimes, I really don't like you." But as he heard you stumbling and fumbling your way through the snow, likely still trying to reach your sister, he rolled his eyes in dramatic defeat before shouting, "Hold up! We're coming!"
You turned around, your face lighting up before playing it off coolly. "You are? I mean... sure, you can tag along."
He chuckled, shaking his head, though he couldn't quite hide the smile tugging at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, he found you... kind of adorable. In fact, you were probably the most adorable person he'd ever met, if he were being honest. Not that you needed to know that. Hans was a lucky guy... maybe.
As the journey dragged on, San found himself increasingly drawn to you in ways he hadn't anticipated. He had written you off as reckless, even naïve. But the more time he spent by your side, the more he found himself softening.
It began with the small things—your silly jokes, the way you smiled at him even in the direst of situations, and the surprising concern you showed for his struggling ice business, despite the weight of your own problems. A part of him tried to deny it, chalking up his protectiveness to simply being a decent person. Yet, as the days went on, the truth became harder to ignore, especially as you started to weaken.
The first time he truly noticed was when you faltered, clutching your chest as the icy curse gripped you. His heart clenched painfully at the sight of you, pale and fragile in a way that scared him. At first, he didn't understand what was happening—until he saw the streaks of white creeping into your hair. His stomach twisted in fear as he watched you shiver uncontrollably.
San tried to fight it at first, keeping his feelings hidden behind casual smiles and forced reassurances. He'd wrap you in his cloak, telling himself that he was just looking out for you like anyone else would. But inside, he was terrified. Each time you winced or stumbled, the protective instinct inside him flared, and it became harder to ignore. He wanted to hold you, to keep you safe, but he told himself that keeping his distance was for the best.
Until it wasn't.
After watching you grow weaker, he couldn't stand it any longer. You were so cold, so frail, barely able to keep yourself upright. Your hair had turned almost entirely white, and the violent shivering never stopped. When you could no longer walk on your own, San didn't care anymore. He scooped you into his arms without hesitation, cradling your fragile body against his chest. Your icy fingers clung weakly to his sleeve, barely able to hold on.
Perhaps the trolls had been right. Maybe what you needed was true love's kiss. The thought sent a wave of fear through him, not because he doubted it, but because he wanted it to be him. Holding you close, trembling as he tried to keep you warm, he swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in his throat.
"We've got to get you back to Hans," he whispered, though the name felt like a sharp blade twisting in his chest.
"A-are you g-gonna be okay?" you asked, voice weak and trembling as you struggled to stay conscious. Your eyes fluttered open, full of worry, and San's heart ached even more.
He forced a smile, though the pain in his chest was undeniable. "Don't worry about me," he said, though the crack in his voice betrayed him. He couldn't tell you the truth—that the very thought of giving you to Hans was tearing him apart.
As he left the castle gates, his arms now empty without your fragile form, the weight of his feelings bore down on him, suffocating. Even Sven could sense it. His reindeer nudged him softly, as if to say, you can't let her go.
San clenched his jaw, shaking his head at the reindeer's knowing gaze. "No, Sven! We're not going back! She's with her true love."
But none of that mattered the moment he noticed the fierce snowstorm suddenly engulfing Arendelle. His eyes widened with panic as he realised something was terribly wrong. Without a second thought, he sprinted back toward the castle, his heart racing, your name ripping from his throat as he shouted through the howling winds.
Snow and ice whipped through the air, blinding San as he fought against the wind, desperately searching for you. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the roar of the storm. Then, through the blizzard, he saw you—a frail figure swaying weakly amidst the violent storm.
His breath hitched, a strangled cry escaping him as he realised how dire your condition was. Your hair was completely white, and your skin had started to turn into a translucent blue, as if turning to ice. Panic surged through him, and without hesitation, he dashed toward you, every muscle in his body straining against the storm.
You took tiny, shaky steps towards him, your voice barely audible above the howling wind. "San..." The way you uttered his name sent a jolt through him, a painful reminder of just how close he was to losing you. He pushed himself harder, the distance between you seeming to stretch endlessly.
"Hold on!" he shouted, though he wasn't sure if you could hear him over the storm. He could see the effort it took for you to move, each step a struggle against the encroaching ice.
Just when he thought he might finally reach you, you changed direction abruptly. His heart stopped as he watched you rush towards your sister, trying to protect her from Hans. The realisation hit him like a thunderclap: in your attempt to shield your sister, you were sacrificing yourself.
He watched in horror as you turned completely into ice, your form crystallising before his eyes. The storm seemed to quiet for a moment, a heavy silence descending as you stood there, frozen.
Desperation clawed at him, and he fought through the storm to reach you. When you returned to your normal state, he was already there, cradling you in his arms. He refused to be a coward again, not after everything you had been through. The fear of losing you was unbearable, and he was determined not to let go.
Holding you close, he buried his face in your hair, breathing in your warmth, feeling your heartbeat against his chest. "I'm not letting you go," he whispered fiercely, his voice breaking with emotion. "Not now, not ever. If you'll let me, I'll hold you close forever."
His heart ached as he clung to you, the world around him fading into insignificance. The storm may have raged on, but in that moment, all that mattered was you.
Mingi ↠ Flynn Rider (Tangled)
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• Charm • Wit • Adventurous •
"Is this… hair?" Mingi croaked in confusion as his eyes fluttered open to the unexpected realisation that he was tied up. The last thing he remembered was climbing up a tower hidden in the forest to escape from the royal guards and the Stabbington brothers.
"Struggling…" came a feminine voice from somewhere in the shadows. "Struggling is pointless."
He furrowed his brows. "Huh?"
"I know why you're here, and I'm not afraid of you," you said, gripping your frying pan tightly as you slowly emerged from your corner and finally stepped into the light.
Oh me, oh my. What do we have here?
The intruder looked genuinely confused as he took a moment to register your appearance. You were a sight to behold, that much was undeniable, but you were also threatening him with a kitchen tool, and truthfully, he wasn't very into that.
"Who are you and how did you find me?" you asked, glaring at him.
But man, were you beautiful.
"Uh huh…" was all he could muster.
Frustrated, you repeated yourself, raising your weapon higher. "Who are you and how did you find me?"
Clearing his throat, he began his rehearsed speech for situations like this. He had yet to meet any lady who wouldn't fall for his charms. As much as he would love to hang around, he had more important things to do. "I know not who you are nor how I came to find you, but may I just say…" He looked down momentarily, then met your gaze again with a rather... questionable expression. "Hi. How you doin'? The name's Flynn Rider. How's your day goin', huh?"
To his surprise, your hostility persisted. "Who else knows my location?" you demanded, aiming the pan at him.
Man, how did the smoulder not work?
Mingi let out a long sigh, staring ahead in exasperation as you ran circles around him with boundless enthusiasm. Lord, how did he get himself into this? He was stuck in this ridiculous situation because he needed the crown he had just stolen from the palace. The deal was simple: he would take you to see the lanterns and bring you back.
But he had no time for that.
Determined to avoid the whole ordeal, he hatched a foolproof plan. He would take you to the Snuggly Duckling, a tavern with a motley crew of thugs and ruffians. Surely that would scare you off.
As you twirled around, he muttered under his breath, "This is going to work. It has to work."
You paused mid-spin. "Did you say something?"
"Nothing!" he replied, forcing a smile. "Just… thinking about how much fun we're going to have."
He let out a sigh of relief as the Snuggly Duckling came into view. He couldn't help but grin at the look of horror that flashed across your face when you saw the rowdy tavern. This was going perfectly.
"You don't look so good, blondie. Maybe we should get you home, call it a day. This is a five-star joint, after all. If you can't handle this place, maybe you should be back in your tower," he said, trying to sound sympathetic while suppressing a smirk.
Just as he thought his plan was working, Mingi cursed under his breath as the main door slammed shut, and a burly man pressed a "Wanted" poster of him against it.
"Is this you?" the man growled, squinting at the poster.
Crap, crap, crap. This is not good.
The thief's eyes widened in dread as he moved the man's finger off the painting of his nose. His heart sank even further. They had gotten his nose wrong... again.
"Now they're just being mean," he muttered to himself, more upset about the artistic injustice than the actual danger he was in.
The last thing Mingi expected happened. As the thugs closed in, you suddenly began to sing a silly little song about having a dream. At first, he stared at you in disbelief, but then something miraculous happened. The roughest and toughest of the bunch started to join in, swayed by your infectious innocence and charm.
A reluctant smile soon spread across his face. As impractical as it seemed, your innocence had saved you both. "I can't believe that worked," he muttered, watching the formerly hostile crowd now swaying together harmoniously.
But the relief was short-lived.
The doors burst open, and royal guards flooded the tavern. "There he is!" one of the guards shouted.
"Time to go!" He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards a hidden exit. The chase led you to a dangerous cave, the sound of the guards echoing behind you.
The thief's adventurous spirit shone brightly as he led you through perilous situations, always thinking on his feet and embracing the thrill. He expertly navigated the cave, his confidence never wavering even as the path grew treacherous.
But things took a dire turn when the cave began to collapse. Rocks tumbled down, trapping you both under the debris. Water started to fill the cave, and panic set in. Despite his fear, he remained focused. He pulled you out of the water when you dipped back under, refusing to let you drown.
"Hey, there's no point. It's pitch-black down there," he said, gently moving some hair out of your face, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability.
You felt a pang of guilt as you saw the hopelessness in his expression. "This is all my fault," you whimpered. "Mother was right. I never should have done this. I'm so sorry, Flynn," you cried.
He sighed, gazing at you sobbing pitifully before whispering, "Mingi."
"What?" you turned to look at him, confused.
"My real name is Song Mingi. Someone might as well know."
You smiled softly through your tears. "I have magical hair that glows when I sing."
His eyes widened in exasperation. "What?"
Just as he thought he couldn't possibly be more amazed, his admiration and affection for you only grew. He watched in awe as you healed his injury with your glowing hair, the pain ebbing away under your touch. Listening to your story, he saw the depth of your courage and determination, traits he deeply admired.
For the first time in his life, Mingi felt comfortable enough to open up about himself. He let down all the walls he had built over the years, sharing his dreams, fears, and the loneliness that had always shadowed him. Something had changed since then, and neither of you had been more certain about your feelings for each other than on the night of your birthday.
He had kept his promise and taken you to see the lanterns. As you both floated on the water, surrounded by the magical glow of thousands of lanterns, he realised that seeing you happy meant more to him than the riches he had dreamed about for so long. This moment, this connection, you—mattered more than anything.
The thief realised that none of the money or recognition would ever mean anything if it meant being without you. Perhaps Flynn Rider was so much more than just a witty and adventurous prince; he was also a romantic at heart. This truth became painfully clear as he prepared to sacrifice his own life to free you, the love of his life, from the clutches of your kidnapper.
On the verge of his own death, he made a heartbreaking decision. He would rather cut your hair, stripping it of its magical properties before you could save him, than allow Mother Gothel to use you any further. With a swift motion, he severed your once-blonde hair, watching as it returned to its original colour.
"Mingi!" you cried, watching in despair as the magic faded. You pulled him into your arms, cradling his face. "No, no, no. Mingi," you pleaded desperately. "Look at me. I'm right here. Don't go. Stay with me."
He smiled weakly, his strength fading. He cupped your face with a trembling hand. "You were my new dream."
Your heart shattered as tears streamed down your cheeks. His hand fell limp beside him, his eyes closing as his life slipped away.
"And you were mine," you whispered, your voice breaking as you held him close, the pain of losing him overwhelming.
But things took a miraculous turn. Your magic, which had always been tied to your hair, still remained in the essence of your tears. As you cried over him, a single tear fell onto his face, glowing brightly before seeping into his skin.
Suddenly, his breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered open. Life returned to him as the magic worked its way through his body. You gasped, pulling him closer, barely able to believe what was happening.
"Mingi!" you exclaimed, joy and relief flooding your heart.
He looked at you, his eyes filled with wonder and gratitude. "You're magic," he whispered, holding you tightly. Without another word, he pressed his lips firmly against yours, pouring all his love and thankfulness into the kiss.
As he held you close, he silently thanked the heavens for granting him a second chance at life. He vowed to start over and be a better person for his princess. At that moment, everything felt right, and he knew that his new life with you would be the greatest adventure of all.
Wooyoung ↠ Aladdin (Aladdin)
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• Energetic • Street-smart • Charismatic •
"Hey! You there, stealing from my brother!" the merchant barked through the bustling market as you handed two starving children the bread you had taken.
You blinked, caught off guard. "Stealing? No, I—"
"You either pay, or I take the bracelet," he sneered, his hand reaching for your mother's bracelet clasped around your wrist. "Let go of me!" you cried, struggling in his grip.
Before the situation could escalate, someone swooped in and pulled you free, placing you protectively behind him. "Easy, Jamal," the young man said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. But the merchant only glared at you. "Kalil turns his back for a moment, and this one," he jabbed a finger toward you, "steals the bread!"
You huffed in frustration. "Those children were starving!"
The young man sighed, turning to you and lowering his voice. "Do you have any money?" You shook your head. He smiled softly, then gripped your bracelet. "Okay, trust me." Something in his gaze made you feel secure, so you did—against all odds, you trusted him.
You watched in disbelief as he removed your bracelet and handed it over to the merchant. "Here, this is what you wanted, right?"
The merchant grinned, satisfied. "Yeah, thank you!"
"And here's an apple, for your troubles," the young man added with a grin, tossing the merchant a fruit before quickly pulling you away, ignoring your protests. "Hey! I'm not leaving without my bracelet!"
He pulled you closer as you hurried through the market. "You mean this bracelet?" he murmured, revealing the very same bracelet in his hand. Instantly, your worry melted. "Come on."
As you both moved, you suddenly heard the merchant shout behind you, "Wooyoung! Jung Wooyoung! Thief!"
You turned, your breath catching. "Are we in trouble?" you asked. He smirked, his confidence unwavering.
"Only if we get caught."
"I can't believe..." you trailed off, staring at the breathtaking view from his balcony. "I can't believe we actually did that. That I did that. That we made it out alive!" you exclaimed, still reeling from the intense chase that had led you here. You couldn't shake the memory of him holding your hands, guiding you to safety.
"Thank you... for getting me out of there. Wooyoung, right?" you smiled bashfully, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a little shy. "You're welcome..." he gestured toward you, waiting for your name.
You froze for a split second. "I... I'm Dalia," you blurted out, using your handmaid's name as a cover. No one could know your true identity—not even him.
"Dalia... from the palace," he said, his tone more knowing than surprised. You stayed silent, your back to him. How did he— "Only someone from the palace could afford a bracelet like that," he continued. "And that silk? It's imported, comes straight to the palace from the merchant ships. But not for most servants, which means... you're the handmaid to the princess."
You sighed, finally turning to meet his eyes, a small smile on your lips. "Impressive."
"If you think that's impressive, you should see the city from up there," he said, pointing to the second floor of his humble home. You didn't need to be told twice and eagerly headed up. "Agrabah... it's beautiful. I really should get out more."
He chuckled. "You should tell the princess that." Your smile faded slowly. "The people haven't seen her in years."
Your fists clenched slightly. "They won't let her. Ever since... the queen was killed, the sultan's been terrified. She's kept locked away."
He looked down, a touch of sadness in his voice. "Seems like everyone's been living in fear since then. But the people of Agrabah loved her. The queen."
Your heart warmed at his words. "They did, didn't they?"
As the conversation shifted to his past, you were saddened to learn of the hardships he had endured. He sighed deeply. "Every day I hope things will change, but it never seems to. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just..."
"Trapped," you finished for him, your voice soft. "Like you can't escape what you were born into?" He nodded, meeting your gaze. For a moment, you thought you could trust him. But that hope wavered when he struggled to return your bracelet at your departure.
"So you are a thief," you said, your voice tinged with disappointment. "I'm so naive."
"But Dalia, I was born for more than just marrying some useless prince!" you argued after meeting yet another potential suitor from Skanland that afternoon.
Your handmaid sighed. "If you had to marry a useless prince, you could certainly do worse than this one. He's tall, handsome, and yes, a bit dim, but it's just a marriage. Although, I suspect you'd rather marry that boy from the market," she finished, and you scoffed.
As she went off to prepare your bath, there was a knock at your door. With a frown, you opened it. "Can I help you?" you asked, and the person turned around. Your eyes widened in shock. "You? You! What are you doing here? Get in here!"
Wooyoung smirked. "I came to return your bracelet."
"My bracelet? Where is it?"
"On your wrist," he replied, and you gasped, glancing down to see it securely in place. "Wait, how did you get past the guards?" you asked in disbelief.
He grinned mischievously. "That was tricky, but I have my ways. While the princess is out, how about a stroll? We can chat."
You crossed your arms, half-irritated, half-amused. "You are unbelievable," you muttered, annoyed at his audacity but even more so at how attractive he was. "You can't just break into the palace and act like you own the place!"
"If you don't have anything, you've got to act like you own everything," he shrugged, flashing a grin. You stared at him, realising you'd never met anyone like him—because no one was like him. "So, what do you say?"
"No! You need to leave, now!" you insisted, pushing him toward the door.
"Fine, but I'm coming back tomorrow," he said confidently. "Meet me in the courtyard by the fountain when the moon is above the minaret." He gestured behind him, and before you could react, he removed your hair clip, waving it teasingly. "To return this."
Your breath caught when he leaned closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His voice was a whisper. "I promise." Perhaps you were a fool; you should have known better than to believe him.
The next time you saw him, you barely recognised him, thanks to the Genie's magic. He was now Prince Young of Wonderland—a clumsy prince who seemed to be trying to "buy" you with his riches, or at least that was what he said, as he awkwardly stumbled over his words. His first impression was far from impressive, and despite his best efforts, nothing he did seemed to win you over.
After countless failed attempts, he finally realised what he needed to do: just be himself. "There's a whole world beyond these books and maps. You should see it."
"How? Every door is guarded," you replied, a bit wistful.
"Who said anything about a door? Sometimes, princess, you just have to take a risk," he said with a grin before climbing over your balcony and leaping off. You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth, heart in your throat. "What just happened?"
Moments later, he reappeared on a floating carpet. You sighed in relief. "Is this…?"
"A magic carpet? Yes," he smirked, offering his hand. "Do you trust me?" Your heart skipped a beat as those words echoed something familiar. "What did you say?" you croaked. He repeated, his eyes steady on yours. "Do you trust me?"
You hesitated before nodding and placing your hand in his. "Yes."
As the carpet soared over a village, you watched the people below celebrating around a fire. You smiled as the prince draped his coat around your shoulders. "Of all the places you've shown me, this is the most beautiful."
"Sometimes, you just have to see it from a different perspective," he replied. You shook your head gently. "No, it's them—the people. They make it beautiful. And they deserve a leader who understands that. I don't know why I think it could be me."
He turned to you, his expression sincere. "Because it should be you."
"Do you really think so?" you asked softly. He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and for a moment, you froze. Only one other person had done that before—
"Does it matter what I think?" he asked, breaking the spell.
By the end of the night, you learned he was who you had suspected all along, though you were now convinced he had been a prince from the start. Wooyoung, caught up in the joy of the moment, kissed you goodnight, only to later drown in constant guilt and worry that the lie he was still hiding could ruin everything.
But none of that mattered when you discovered it had all been a lie. Even caught up in the battle against Jafar, Wooyoung was still the one you trusted most. And you knew you were right to trust him because, despite the difficult situation, he chose to return to your side and protect you. His actions proved his genuine care for you.
Your feelings for him deepened when he made his third and final wish. Instead of using it to abolish the law that required the princess to marry royalty, he selflessly used it to free the Genie.
"You shall be the next sultan," your father said. "As sultan, you can change the law." He gestured to where Wooyoung had stood moments earlier, but now he was gone. Your heart sank, and your father gently nudged you. "Go after him before it's too late."
And you did just that.
Breathless, you found him only a few steps outside the palace, your hair clip still in his hands. "Stop, thief! Your sultan commands it!" you called after him, your tone teasing.
He turned, biting his lip and holding up the clip. "Sultan? Does that mean I'm in trouble?"
Your heart fluttered at those familiar words. With a smile, you approached him. "Only because you got caught," you whispered before kissing him. The crowd around you erupted in cheers as he pulled you close, returning your kiss with equal passion. At that moment, he realised his wish had come true after all.
Jongho ↠ Prince Eric (Little Mermaid)
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• Kind-hearted • Brave • Dependable •
"Max! Come here, boy," the man on board called out to his dog, who had momentarily been distracted by your presence near the side of the ship. Your eyes widened as you took in his striking features—he was human. You'd never seen one this closely before.
Carefully staying hidden, you continued to watch as an elderly man stepped forward to quiet the crew. "Silence, silence. It is now my honour and privilege to present our esteemed Prince Jongho with a very special, very expensive, and very large birthday present," he announced, gesturing toward a massive object draped in cloth at the center of the ship.
"Ah, Grimsby, you old beanpole, you shouldn't have," said the handsome man, whose name you now know to be Jongho and that he was... a prince.
The old man smiled bashfully. "I know. Happy birthday, Jongho." With that, the cloth was pulled away to reveal a heroic statue of the prince. Instead of reacting as Grimsby had likely hoped, the prince grimaced slightly. "Uh, gee, Grim..." he cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's, uh... really something..."
"Yes, I commissioned it myself. I had hoped it would be a wedding gift." Grimsby's tone was hopeful, but Jongho just chuckled. "Come on, Grim. Don't start. You're not still upset that I didn't fall for the Princess of Glowerhaven, are you?"
"Oh my, it's not just me. The entire kingdom wants to see you happily settled down with the right girl."
Jongho smiled, leaning against the railing. "Well, she's out there somewhere. I just... haven't found her yet. But trust me, Grim, when I do, I'll know. It'll hit me, like lightning—no question about it."
Your heart fluttered as you listened from just below. You'd never felt this way about any merman, but you wanted to be that girl for him. He seemed so near, yet impossibly far at the same time.
Perhaps he shouldn't have said those words—maybe he jinxed it. What started as a cheerful celebration turned into chaos within seconds, as lightning struck and set the ship ablaze.
You watched anxiously from the sidelines, praying he'd be alright. But your heart sank when you saw him dive back into the ocean from a lifeboat, only to return to the ship to save his dog. Though he managed to rescue the pet, he put himself in grave danger, trapped as the ship exploded. Gasping, you swam toward him, just in time to see him weakly cling to a plank before slipping into the water.
Without hesitation, you dove in, gripping his larger frame and fighting through the waves to bring him to the surface. With sheer determination, you swam to shore, finally laying him on the sand as the sun began to rise.
"Thank goodness, he's still breathing. He's... beautiful," you whispered, gently brushing his wet hair and caressing his cheek. As you sang softly, a familiar tune you'd often hum when dreaming of life on land and now... of him, you saw his eyes flutter open. He smiled at you, placing his hand over yours.
Before you could say a word, you heard Grimsby's voice echo along the beach. In a flash, you were gone before Jongho could fully grasp what had happened.
"Jongho! Oh, Jongho! You really enjoy testing my poor heart, don't you?" the old man grumbled, helping him up.
"A girl... she saved me. She was singing... with the most beautiful voice," the prince murmured dreamily, his eyes still scanning the horizon. Grimsby chuckled. "Ah, Jongho, I believe you've swallowed a bit too much seawater."
You watched from afar, your heart aching as they walked away. Did he feel the same way you did? Was this... love? Because you missed him already.
Humming the melody that had lingered in his mind ever since you rescued him, Jongho was interrupted by the sudden arrival of his dog. Max sprinted across the sandy beach, barking and leaping excitedly at his owner. "What's up, boy?"
The dog darted forward, and without hesitation, he chased after him. You gasped when Max ran up to you, quickly scooting back onto a rock to keep your distance from the unfamiliar animal.
"Max? What's gotten into you?" the prince's voice called out as he appeared, just in time to see his dog circling you. His breath caught when his eyes landed on you. "Oh... I see."
"Are you alright, miss?" he asked softly, stepping closer. "I'm sorry if this troublemaker scared you. He's harmless, I swear..." His voice trailed off as he looked from his dog to meet your eyes. "You look... familiar. Have we met before?"
You nodded immediately, a beaming smile lighting up your face.
"It's you, isn't it? The one I've been searching for," he murmured, gently taking your hands in his. "What's your name?"
But when you opened your mouth to speak, no sound came out. That's when it hit you—you had given your voice to Ursula in exchange for legs, and now had only three days for Jongho to kiss you with true love's kiss, or else you'd belong to the sea witch for an eternity.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned. You pointed to your throat, shaking your head. "You can't speak? Oh..." His expression fell. "Then you can't be the girl I thought..."
Frustrated, you frantically waved your hands, trying to show him that you were the one. In your desperate movements, you lost your balance and stumbled forward—right into his strong arms.
"Woah, careful!" he said, holding you close to steady you.
For a moment, the world seemed to freeze as the two of you stood still, his arms wrapped securely around your waist while your hands clung to his shoulders. He gazed into your eyes, his expression softening. "You've been through something, haven't you? Don't worry—I'll help you."
Despite finding your quirks a bit odd, Jongho couldn't help but be charmed by your playful nature. On top of that, you were easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He had noticed it when he first met you, but after the maids had cleaned you up and dressed you like a princess, he could barely tear his eyes away. For a moment, he even forgot about the girl he had been searching for, now looking forward to spending the next day showing you around town.
Time flew by, and your second day on land seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. You wandered through the streets together, hands intertwined, sharing meals, dancing, and laughing. Each moment felt magical, filled with heart-fluttering closeness that made it feel like the two of you were already a couple. It was the best day of your life, a world apart from anything you'd ever known. It would've been perfect—if only he would just kiss you.
But there was still time, and you held on to hope. That evening, he took you on a romantic boat ride, and it felt like the moment was finally about to happen. He leaned in a few times, but each time, he hesitated, as if reminding himself you weren’t the one he thought he was looking for. Your heart sank with every pause. Still, after learning your name and feeling a deeper connection, he came so close...
Close enough for Ursula to interfere.
That night, he stood outside, looking melancholy as he hummed the same song that had haunted him since he was rescued. "Jongho, if I may," Grimsby said gently, approaching him. "Sometimes, the best match isn't a dream girl, but someone of flesh and blood—someone warm, caring, and right before your eyes," he suggested, gesturing toward your room, where you were absentmindedly brushing your hair with a fork once again.
Jongho chuckled softly, shaking his head at your antics. Perhaps Grimsby was right. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you weren't the girl he had been searching for... after all, you made him happy. But before he could think further, a woman named Vanessa appeared, casting him under a spell that blinded him to everything—especially you.
Wiping away your tears, you knew you had to find a way to get to him. Your heart was shattered when you heard he was marrying another woman, but deep down, you should have known something was off. Of course, it was the sea witch and her wicked schemes.
Thankfully, Max, the loyal dog, seemed just as frustrated with Vanessa as you were. He aggressively tugged at her dress, refusing to leave her alone. In the chaos, her seashell necklace—the one that held your voice—fell to the ground and shattered. At last, the spell was broken, and you could speak again. The moment Jongho heard your voice, recognition filled his eyes. "You're the one. It was you... all along."
You nodded, your voice trembling with emotion. "Yes, Jongho. I've been trying to tell you."
"No! Stay away from her!" Vanessa screamed, but the prince ignored her, pulling you close and leaning in to kiss you. Before he could, you gasped, falling to the ground as your legs transformed back into a tail. Ursula's wicked laughter echoed as she returned to her true form, slithering towards you and grabbing hold. "So long, lover boy," she hissed.
His heart nearly stopped as he watched the witch drag you into the depths of the sea. But he wasn't about to lose you again. This time, he would fight with everything he had to save you.
And he did. The battle was fierce and exhausting, but he remained determined. Jongho cleverly commandeered a ship and steered it straight into Ursula, risking everything to put an end to her reign of terror.
Even in his exhaustion, he didn't rest until he found you. This time, you had legs—real, permanent ones—granted by your father after seeing the love you shared. And when he finally reached you, he pulled you close, refusing to let go. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long, but I'm yours now if you'll have me."
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I'm aware the format for each story is kinda inconsistent HAHA but that's because this has been in the works for a while now, and the time taken to finish these one by one was long enough for me to develop a new style for nearly every story when I get to them.
Not sure if this was any good. While proofreading, I realised there's a chance this might not make much sense for readers who have not watched these movies. But y'all, let me know your thoughts! <3
General ATEEZ Tag list:
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@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |
@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |
@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |
@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |
@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte |
@bangtannie7 @vtyb23 @khjoongie98 @scuzmunkie @anxiousskylar |
@bunny4yungi
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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dolliels · 1 month
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I'VE BECOME THE FIANCÉ OF THE VILLAIN?!
leona x gn reader
synopsis: going to bed after reading a horribly self indulgent romance novel, you seemed to wake up as an extra of the series. what stories will unfold while on a mission to find a way out?
author’s note: this is a mini series. no idea if i'll finish it tho.
[one] [two] [three] [four] [epilogue]
the whirring of the fan was the only other sound that you could other than your nail tapping on your phone. 
it’s been a full day now and you’ve done nothing except lie on your couch and read a horribly self indulgent novel. the weather was too hot and the chewed up popsicle stick flung around in your mouth.
I’ve become the fiancé of a villain?! was an all-time hit novel, written by an anonymous writer. you’ve heard about it and the plot clearly interested you, but there were only 5 chapters when you discovered it so you let it marinate for a while. today you found out it was completed, so you sat down and spent your entire day reading.
much to your disappointment, the story sucked.
it was about the main character, roselia, who fell asleep in the middle of class and woke up in the middle of a fantasy world that she wrote when she was bored!
leona kingscholar, a jealous second-born son who wanted to be king more than anything, devises a plan to kill his older brother. fortunately, roselia wrote the story so she knew leona like the back of her hand. unfortunately, she was the betrothed fiancé of leona, someone he took advantage of to execute his plan. when she found out about his goal of murdering the king, the fiance tried to warn everyone and leona finds out, killing her. the novel focused on roselia trying her best to not get murdered and falling in love with leona in the process.
it wasn’t like the idea was bad, you’ve read thousands of stories like that before and enjoyed them all. it’s just that this one was incredibly self-indulgent, with leona’s cold, merciless eyes that turn into metaphorical hues of warmth when he sees the girl he used to hate, the girl he was reluctantly betrothed to, the girl who is now the woman of his dreams. (you almost threw up reading that)
how was this novel even popular? with plans to complain about it tomorrow, you passed out on your bed.
birds chirped and you soaked in the warmth of the sun. you felt incredibly gross and dirty that morning, and wanted to freshen up. heading to the bathroom, you tumbled your way to the door (was the floor always this slippery?) as you groggily looked into the mirror, you saw yourself………..? huh? is that you? wait no, you don’t look like that…. what?!
after much looking around, you figured that this wasn’t your body (obviously) but you were you, and the body you were in definitely wasn’t what you remembered looking like the other night. you examined your face carefully, you frowned. what is this? some sort of isekai? it has to be. but that sounds completely unreal! aren’t isekai’s…fake? you felt way too overpowered knowing what an isekai even is in the first place. most leads in these novels don’t know what the word means at all. you felt too advantaged.
what crazy novel were you reading…?
you frowned until an imaginary light bulb popped up.
i’ve become the fiancé of the villain!
does that mean you’re roselia…?
no, that couldn’t be right. roselia woke up in a grand but empty bedroom that she shared with leona. you… woke up in a boring commoner’s room.
you looked around your messy bedroom, trying to gather any hints of who you are and what you do.
after rummaging through the entire house, you concluded three things.
1. you ran a small bookstore. which is honestly a win because you’ve always wanted to run one without financially skinning you alive. you seem to be stable so that’s a pro in your head.
2. you were just some character extra that didn’t matter to the plot.
3. you were assigned to stock up some books for the royal library. the kingscholar royal library.
from reading the novel, you knew leona did nothing but stay in the castle all day. that gives you a glimmer of hope that you’d see roselia.
the things, there are two possibilities as to where the story is going.
the first possibility is that the roselia in this universe is the roselia that you read in the novel. which is more likely, because it is the story that you read.
the second possibility is that this may be the original story and you might be the only person in this whole story that has been isekai’d. which means leona would kill her eventually.
either way, you had a strong feeling that roselia was the key for you to get back home. and that was the only thing that was on your mind right now. and no, you are not going to be like those other leads that just settle for a life in another universe that does not belong to them. you are determined to go back.
on that fateful morning you luckily packed the boxes of books the day before, or any other day, you can’t recall anything in your current self. but the person who held consciousness of this body already packed the books, which means you should be able to just drive your cart to the castle. the castle is huge and you can see from your window. there should be no problem getting the, right?
-
“…you’re late.”
you huff and puff as you bend your knees. you got lost as to where to go and ended up carrying the boxes of books yourself around the place before finding the area.
“i’m sorry. i got lost.”
“lost? you’re never lost. you’ve been here plenty of times.”
you had no excuse for that. but whatever, you got the job done, right?
the man with neat blue hair clicked his tongue and scratched something off of his paper.
“well?” he said, staring you down.
“well what?”
“aren’t you gonna go bring the books inside?”
oh, right.
-
you weren’t a huge bookworm, unless you count the copious amounts of isekai novels you’ve read. but looking at the glamorous library, it suddenly made you thirst for all books that exists, even the classics, something you’ve tried to enjoy but struggled to fully digest. hey, don’t blame anyone! thou shall not lie, thou shall not cheat aren’t the best ways to use english in the modern world.
as you stack the books into the shelves, you find yourself browsing through the already existing books, browsing your fingers across the spines, feeling each and every gold brim.
maybe this world isn’t as bad.
you were originally under the assumption that you had to just drop off the books and go, but you soon found out that you’re also responsible for the library archive, not like you needed to keep track anyway.
you sighed and smiled. so a small bookstore wasn’t enough to hold you up financially after all. you ended up getting a side in the royal palace of all places! the pay must be pretty good.
you know… as you think back, you remember roselia coming into the library, attempting to find any other information of escape and accidentally bumping into the book stocker… could that possibly be you?
then that means roselia is bound to bump into you any moment!
as you eagerly keep your eye out for the pretty princess, you take your time putting the books away. there should be no problem how long you take, right?
“hey.”
roselia? no. the voice is gruff, and deep. that… no. roselia is definitely a girl… so that is not the lady you are waiting for.
you turn around.
leona kingscholar. 
he’s exactly as he’s described. the novel mentions leona’s good looks so much it was practically shoved in your face. but you felt like the words itself couldn’t properly describe his beauty.
he had the kind of hair that gently parts around his shoulders, comfortably setting itself down on top, a sleek, shiny glow to it that is only prominent and glittery at certain angles of the sun, making you want to stare at his hair alone even more.
his skin was smooth, almost doll-like with little to absolutely no imperfections. it scrunched up perfectly, creating deliberate folds across his face as his eyebrows pursed together, frowning. his emerald-esque eyes staring directly at you. he looked like the kind of guy you’d want to make a good impression to.
unfortunately, you don’t look like you’re doing your job, with a book open and a box full of them that haven’t been organized yet, and your mouth… was agape. it seems like you forgot that you are actually in the universe, looking directly at what you deemed to be the handsomest man you have ever met.
you seemed to thank the skies and above for gracing you with an opportunity to be able to place your eyes on someone so perfect that your brain completely lagged.
you had to remind yourself, leona is not real! and you won’t ever see his kind of beauty anywhere in the real world. he’s a fictional character!
suddenly, you felt like you were pulled back into reality.
oh right, in the novel, leona is actually a huge dick in the novel!
before leona fell in love with roselia, he was demanding, lazy and scheming. he was smart, and used his wits for his own gain (ultimately leading to roselia and his brother’s demise in the original story.)
speaking of, where is roselia?
you distinctly remember that roselia was supposed to bump into you and then afterwards leona walks in on her.
it seemed as if the story was going as planned, but without roselia.
“well?” the same voice caught you alert again, and you remembered that you had to act like a normal person.
“oh. uh. hello…?”
you didn’t know what to say. you spent the entirety of the day before in your world reading about him, his backstory and everything else that talking to him as if he’s a treasure box to be unlocked was surreal.
“hello? hello??” leona scoffed. “first, you’re not doing your job properly, snooping around the royal collection and no etiquette remaining at all.”
you bowed down, trying to look as shameful as possible. there was no hierarchical respect for him lingering at all. you assume this is because you saw him as a fictional character first and foremost.
“I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
“psh.” he replied, waving his hand back. “hurry up. I’ll come back later.”
you snickered to yourself as leona walked away. the clacking of his fancy shoes on the glass floors echoing throughout the library. when you snorted, you heard the walking pause then continue again, as if leona heard the laugh but wasn’t bothered enough to say anything.
-
you sat in your chair, frowning, your elbow propped up against the table under your chin.
it has been nearly a week since you woke up in this world so far, and you haven’t seen roselia anywhere.
of course, roselia being a princess after all, rarely ever left the palace, but in the novel, the new roselia went out and about in many places.
after you were able to catch up to the timeline when leona walked into the library, you tried to follow your memory as much as possible and wasted your time lurking in places roselia should’ve been at.
could this possibly not be the novel you read after all? maybe… this roselia isn’t the roselia you know.
you shake your head. your hopes were diminishing, but it wasn’t like there was no hope at all!
plus, the bookstore you ran had minimal conversations, people would browse through and purchase. this meant you had all the time in the world to try and figure out other alternatives.
cling
the bell of the door clang a few times before quieting down. the array of bookshelves blocked your few from seeing whoever entered, but you could hear the pitter patter of rain hitting the ground outside when the door opened. you hoped they didn’t get anything wet.
“welcome!”
no reply.
you shrugged and went back to scribbling down on your paper.
stomp, stomp, stomp
you looked up. something was oddly out of place.
holding the nearest weapon you had (a paper cutter, ridiculous.) you slowly got out of your seat in between the many shelves of your bookstore.
the paper cutter firmly between your hands, you pointed it out just in case.
“who’s… who’s in here?”
no reply.
stomp, stomp, stomp
“I said… who’s in here?”
no reply, but you heard an annoyed grunt.
BOOM!
just as the thunders outside clashed, you finally reached the last shelf to see a figure entirely hidden by the lightning.
as it died down, you saw the trail of blood on the floor under your soft yellow lights and an injured man who stood right in front of you.
before you could react, the man completely slumped to the ground, giving you an opportunity to safely approach him.
you lifted the familiar locks of chocolatey brown hair to see… leona kingscholar. bloodied, injured and unconscious.
TO BE CONTINUED...
an: lowkey really got into the story rather than the romance... oops. if this fic receives well i'll focus on romance on the next part :)
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aquasarsstuff · 2 months
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Arrange Marriage ft. Lilia Vanrouge part. 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
Tags: Lilia teases you, fluff, historical au, there will be part two, reader is implied to be a woman, but no gender is mentioned, is it obvious I love teasing Lilia, twst what do you mean Lilia ain't a prince
Summary: Frustrated about your upcoming marriage, you ranted to your bestfriend who seems to be more than enthusiastic to listen.
Masterlist
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Lilia bursted into a laugh — a loud one — as you continued dissing your fiancé, a man you never even once met or heard of. You weren't afraid to run your mouth about a powerful figure without a care, which amuses him greatly though slightly worried. He'd make sure to remind you to that walls have ears.
You grumbled at his reaction, clearly expecting to receive sympathy from him.
"Lilia!" You whined at him. "Stop laughing at my predicament! I'm about to be married off!
"My, such hostile reaction. You haven't even met the man fufufu," he chuckled and shook his head. His cheeks looking more fuller doing so. Looking at him, you'd never imagine in your life that you'd be this casual with a commoner, and a man at that. You met him while you snuck out of your household to enjoy the festival normally. Amidst the crowd, you accidentally bumped into your now cheeky companion. It was only one night, but both of you hit it so well. You remembered smiling on your way back, only to not be able to sleep when you were slapped with the reality that you might not see him again. Only for the devil to reappear in your room, apparently sneaking past security.
You didn't question how he was able to do that.
"This is no laughing matter, Lilia." You crossed your arms, a little bit annoyed at your best friend. "Because of this marriage — because of him, my parents have been stricter lately. One of these days, I might just wake up looking like a dried stick."
"All those efforts might be worthwhile once you laid your eyes upon his highness," he answered, sipping on his tea.
"Please, I'm not someone who is easily charmed," you huffed. "Stop pushing the idea. You're supposed to be on my side, not his. It's not like you know him well," you complained. He sighed and smiled at your already irritated form.
"It is a wise choice to side with him, no? A commoner have no chance against your prince. He might let you get away for badmouthing him. As for me however, he'd have no reason to spare me," he pouts. "By then, you will not ever see this adorable face you adore so much."
You rolled your eyes. "It's not like we will see each other as often once I married that prince."
"I have snuck in here without a problem sweetcheeks. That isn't going to be an issue for me." He winks at you.
"The palace is more secured, Lilia."
Lilia took note of the sudden change in your behavior. He was almost fooled into believing that you were affected by his teasing, for the first time when your cheeks were adorned with a soft hue of red. You turned your head away from him, curling your back against the chair.
"Besides, someone has my heart already. Prince charming wouldn't be able to charm me that easy," you confessed bashful. Gathering enough courage, you proceeded to look at him. You stared at his eyes searching for any signs of jealousy at those ruby orbs. His lips molded into a grin, and you swear you have never ever hated his smile before.
"Oh, and who was able to capture your picky heart?" He grinned, as if knowing the answer already.
"I knew it was a bad idea to tell you."
"You wound me sweetcheeks. Do you not trust me enough to confide with your secrets?"
You just grumbled a threw a pillow at his face, in which he was able to catch easily with no problem.
He watched you closely. Your fiancé might just forgive you for insulting him in front of his face, as long as you continued spoiling him with such cute reactions. The idea of shedding his disguise suddenly seemed more tempting to Lilia.
---
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marigoldwriter · 1 month
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I'm going to post something that anyone who's reading 'Where are the Stars? I'll Sing them Lullabies' will like.
Glassheart's daughters' appearances.
They were drawn by @werewolfvanillapotato, right at the beginning of the fanfic's development, therefore, they're just initial appearances.
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(The first one is Letty, the middle one is Rosa, and the last one is Cherise)
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rylxdreams · 6 months
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I still can't get the unused concept art of Wish out of my head so I've been reading a lot of rewrites and looking at a lot of Wish redesigns...
So... I got inspired. I'm currently conceptualizing my own Wish "rewrite/redesigns", but with a twist. It's gonna be a spiritual "prequel", cuz idk I feel like being meta since we'll be using the original concepts before the final concepts/decisions made for the final movie XD
Many of my "prequel" characters will be stand-ins for the canon characters! So "Asha" will be renamed "Amala", "Magnifico" will be called "Mamoun", and so on. Think of Pokemon Legends: Arceus regarding the relations of these "OCs" with the canon characters.
Anyway, here are the designs I have so far! I only have the designs for Amala and the Star for now. Hopefully, I can get to draw the other characters soon, especially Mamoun and his wife.
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The story will be called "Once Upon a Wish"
Here's an overview of what I have so far... Some details may change if I feel like my other choices serve the story better. (Also, small disclaimer, this is just a veryyy self-indulgent AU made by yours truly, so some details may not be accurate with the canon lore present in Wish)
The story takes place on the same island of Rosas, but from many years ago. If my research is right, canon Wish takes place in the 1200s, so maybe my "prequel" can take place in around the 900s-1000s. Rosas definitely wasn't called Rosas back then, but I'm still figuring out what to call it so I'm just gonna refer to it as "an island".
Amala is a shy, meek, but hardworking apprentice of the island's head sorcerer Mamoun (hence, her color palette looks similar to Mickey's outfit from The Sorcerer's Apprentice). Despite all her hard work in her magic studies, she doesn't really excel at using magic, making a lot of accidents during training. If there's anything she really excels at, it's the act of storytelling (She can draw/animate, sing, and write stories like fairy tales).
Amala also has a little sister Ayah, who I can imagine is the Lilo/Anna to Amala's Nani/Elsa. Ayah is spunky and cheerful, but she has an illness that makes her disabled. The sisters are orphans, but they live under an old family friend they affectionately call Grandpa Dabir. Dabir is a retired bard turned doctor who was part of a troupe with 6 other former bards, all of whom he and the sisters still interact.
That's all I can share for now. Feel free to ask me any questions about stuff about this AU!
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chio-chan2artbox · 4 months
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Cinderella AU! Perryshmirtz
This is @mammalsofaction version of Heinz as Cinderella 🥰✨
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azuretiger · 2 months
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I was doing other sketches for my fic but I had to do some horse ones.
Come read if you like horse friend
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svnny-days · 7 months
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- ready to love | L. Castellan
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━━━ ◦ ⋅🔱 swim lessons
a.n: 99% of the stuff in here may not make sense but it will eventually, i promise! it also may jst feel really, really weird nd awkward but i'm still getting the hang of making this stuff... it's a little trial and error and that's okay! (i was really overthinking posting this or not 😭) also the next part MIGHT be an actual written chapter, i'm not too sure yet.
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slight-gaming-addict · 2 months
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Once upon a dream
malleus
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ
once upon a dream
0:24 ─●──────── -2:59
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pairing: malleus draconia x gn!reader
warnings: soulmate au, fluff, slight angst
word count: 0.8k
a/n: i've decided to make this a soulmate au because i feel like this concept would go with the song the best i hope you like it and i apologize for taking so long to get it out
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He watches you as you spin around in the forest, a smile on your face looking up at the trees. He wears his own smile on his face watching you with an endearing expression. He loves the freeing look on your face, and the giggles that leave your throat as you eventually flop down next to him on the blanket laid out.
You smile up at him and lay your head in his lap. "I love you, Mal."
"I-" He attempts to say it back, but before he can get the rest of the words out, the world shifts and he's back in his bedroom. The dreams have been getting more and more vivid as of late, so vivid that when he wakes up, he tries to reach for you.
He blinks rapidly trying to focus his mind to the present. He's still getting used to being able to actually see things when he's sleeping. It used to be just a dark void when he slept, but suddenly a week ago you started appearing to him in his dreams.
Ever since his dreams no longer consisted of a dark void, and became more clear and consistent, he would spend most of his time getting as much sleep as he could trying to dream as much as possible. Dreams typically get more clear as you get older, eventually letting the form of your soulmate take shape the closer you get to meeting them. It was different for Malleus though. With how old he is, he didn't dream at all until a week ago when you've started appearing in them. He thought he'd have to still wait centuries for you to come to him, but was very pleasantly surprised to find out that that was not the case.
He scared himself awake that night he first started seeing colored pictures appear before him, expecting to see just another black void. He was quick to make himself fall asleep again because he knew what it meant, and that he finally found you.
He's so excited that he finally knows what his soulmate looks like, and he spends most of his time sleeping, trying to imprint your image in his brain. The time he's awake, he spends looking for you in any way he can, but he just can't seem to find you.
He's slowly beginning to think that maybe he started dreaming too early, and that there's still years left until he actually finds you. He sighs, pushing himself out of his bed and walking out onto his terrace. He sits there, breathing in the fresh air and admiring the night sky as he thinks about you.
He's about to turn and walk inside when he sees something move in the corner of his eye. There's a person walking down below, and he wouldn't think anything of it, but he could recognize those features from a mile away. It was you. He's sure of it.
Malleus is on the ground in a flash, body moving towards you. He gets close enough to touch you, lightly grabbing your wrist to spin you around to look at him. Sparks immediately erupt from the place you're connected and he stares at you, completely entranced by your beauty. The dreams didn't do him justice as he stands before you right now.
You recognize him before he's even turned you around to look at him, the sparks in your arm telling you everything you need. He's more mesmerizing in person, and you catch yourself just standing there, staring at him.
He lets go of your wrist and you want to grab it and put it back, but his hand instead goes up to cup your cheek, lightly caressing it with his thumb. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch in an attempt to get closer. Every day you wondered when you would run into him, how you would feel when you first saw him. You'd make up scenarios in your mind of endless possibilities, but none of them come close to the feeling you feel right now.
Soon, his other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, your face now held in his hands. He can't believe you're standing here in front of him. He's scared this is just another dream and that he'll wake up any minute, still longing for your presence. However, when he feels your hands lightly grip his wrists, looking at him with those eyes, he knows it's real.
He can't wait any longer and brings his lips onto yours, fireworks exploding inside him as he feels your warm lips on his. You grip onto him tightly, as if he'd disappear any second as you kiss him with so much passion. You've both found your home, and couldn't be any happier.
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buy me a coffee ♡
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versusvirtuous · 2 months
Text
red and chloe but its a spider-man au. red is spider-woman and chloe doesn't know and this causes issue in their realtionship because red is kinda flakey. but then red fights like a villian or whatever and chloe finds out. i really want to write this but i feel like no one would read it. also i have zero clue how ao3 works
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lilacs-stars · 2 months
Text
aiming for your heart
this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: you agree to a tutoring session with your pirate classmate, but things end up taking an...unexpected twist. GENRE: pure fluff, a bit of banter CW: nothing much, just mentions of societal pressures WC: 7.9k (they just keep getting longer...)
A/N: I decided to finally do something cute and fluffy after days of working on dark angsty stuff and this felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air. it was so fun to write, so thanks to the anon who requested this for the fun idea! <3 please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd love to know your thoughts!
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Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, circle, flick. Up, swish, cir—
“Ahh, oww!” you cry out as a very solid metal object collides with the side of your skull. Your hand instinctively goes up to the spot on your head—which you can already feel starting to swell—as you wince in pain. 
You’re supposed to throw the ring in the basket, not at my head, idiot, you think to yourself as you grimace. 
“Oh my gosh, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you, I swear!” you glance around the room, locking eyes with your classmate just a few tables away, whose wand is still poised in their hand and a bewildered expression planted on their face. “I just can’t seem to control…this gosh darn wand…”
You let out a little sigh, trying your best to not be impatient. After all, you couldn’t expect everyone to be as experienced in this field as you are. 
You glance back at the student, who’s rereading their textbook pages for what’s probably the tenth time. As you watch them struggle, a pang of guilt hits you for being so mean and irritable. It’s not like they were trying to hit you, and even though it was just a thought passing through in the privacy of your mind, you still feel as though thinking something mean like that is wrong. 
You push your chair back and rise from your seat, wand tightly gripped in one hand. Walking over to your classmate’s desk, you give a small smile as you ask them, “Need any help?”
They look up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, yes, please! Enchantment of Magical Objects is literally the hardest class ever!”
You grin again, keeping your demeanor light and friendly, like always. “Okay, so first, you go up, then swish, then circle your wand back around, and finally flick, and then…”
You copy the movements with your own wand as you speak, small magical sparks flickering off it at your gestures. After you complete your little demonstration, you both watch as a hand-sized sleek metal ring, somewhat resembling a circular horseshoe, levitates off the desk and neatly lands in a bucket in the center of the room. 
Today’s assignment in your Enchantment class is to use the Aiming Spell to throw the rings into a bucket. Safe to say, it wasn’t really going well for most of the class. 
“Wow, that was amazing! You’re so good at this Y/N!” your now starry-eyed classmate exclaims. “And I can barely get my rings off my desk…”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get there,” you smile reassuringly. “After all, I’ve had a lot of experience around wands and enchantments.”
“Yeah, I suppose that is right. I guess not everyone can be as talented with magic as the Good Witch’s very own daughter.”
A small laugh escapes your lips, and you bid farewell to your classmate as you make your way back to your seat. They aren’t wrong, after all. Your mother, Glinda, taught you how to use a wand as soon as you could walk. You’ve been watching her use magic for ages, so it’s not a surprise to anyone that you’re top of your class. 
You sit back down, getting back to work. Even though you know you’ve already mastered the spell, you still have some class time left, which you decide to use wisely and continue practicing the spell. 
Staring at the pile of metal rings in front of you, you take a deep breath and begin the task of making each one levitate off your desk and make a perfect arch towards the basket. 
Up, swish, circle, flick. Up—swoosh!
A flying ring shoots straight past your face, barely missing you by only a few inches. You stumble backwards in your chair, quite startled. Still, it isn’t unusual to see objects flying around the classroom, or rather, objects flying where they’re not supposed to.
A moment later, another one whizzes past you again. Then a third, which gets so close to your face that you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Annoyed, your head snaps to your right, trying to figure out who keeps nearly decapitating you. 
You glance around, finally locking eyes with what seems to be the culprit. Chair leaning against the wall, tipped back on its hind two legs, sits a figure with deep brown eyes and smokey eyeshadow look to match. A smirk is planted on his face, a mischievous glint in his gaze. He wears a dark red jacket on top of a black dress shirt, the collar disheveled and his tie loose around his neck. Contrary to his tousled outfit, his medium-length brown hair is neatly slicked back. One of his hands leisurely holds a wand while the other rests behind his head, and combined with the way he has a leg crossed over the other, one would think he’s enjoying a nice day at the beach instead of sitting in class at one of the most prestigious academies in the land.
You fix him with a look, your gaze subconsciously morphing into a glare as he jerks the wand up, causing one of the metal rings in front of him to levitate a few inches off his desk. With a flick of the wrist, he sends it flying across the room once again. Having learned your lesson, this time you duck down, eyes following the disk as it soars across the room. You watch as it shoots straight towards its target, who expertly crouches as the metal ring hits the wall behind him with a thud, falling to the ground and joining the previous disks.
The target of these attacks is a boy you recognize to be a good friend of the ring-throwing troublemaker, with light brown hair brushed away from his forehead and dressed in a dark green shirt with a black choker around his neck. Morgie le Fay shoots a glare across the room to his perpetrator, making a face that could only mean “You’ll pay for this later.”
Another disk comes shooting at his head, and he ducks down yet again. This time, the metal hits the wall so hard, you worry it left a dent. Unable to take their child-like behavior any longer, you get up from your seat for the second time and stomp your way over to the disk-thrower.
“Hook!” you say as you reach his table. The man in question tilts his head towards you, looking up with an amused grin.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, lassie?” he replies, his accent crisp and unmistakable. 
You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, knowing it would be terribly rude, even if he was getting on your nerves like no other. You settle for fixing him with another look. “Could you please stop hurling those disks around? It’s not the assignment, and you practically hit me!”
“My apologies, love,” Hook replies, still peering up at you, unbothered. You honestly doubt he means it, so you frown and try again. “I’m being serious, Hook.”
“As am I,” he replies, making you want to smack that stupid smirk off his face. Deep breaths, deep breaths, you remind yourself. Violence is never the answer. You find it funny how you can almost hear your mother’s voice as you repeat those words in your head, the ones she always tells you.
“So you’ll stop?” you ask, raising a brow and putting your hands on your hips to show him you’re not messing around.
“Ah, well, you see,” Hook starts, and it takes every ounce of benevolence in you to not internally combust at whatever excuse he’s planning to come up with. “I’m having a tad bit of trouble with this spell, love. No matter what I do, I simply can’t seem to lock on to the right target.”
At this, you raise your eyebrows again, disbelief laced through your every cell. “Why don’t you give it a go,” you say, jerking your chin towards the basket in the middle of the room. “You never know until you don’t try.”
Hook leans forward in his chair, righting it again so it stands on all four legs. He raises his wand, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s actually concentrating on the task at hand. One of the metal disks rises into the air, levitating a meter above the floor.
Hook flicks his wand forward and the disk sails away, missing the basket in an almost laughable attempt at execution. Instead of the proper target, it lands on the edge of a file cabinet in the far corner of the room. You pray for the poor soul that will inevitably open one of its drawers, only to be smacked in the head by a piece of solid steel.
Eyebrows raised, Hook unabashedly turns back around to face you with that grin of his. “So how was that, love? Satisfied?”
“Not quite,” you huff, shaking your head at him. “Honestly, I haven’t seen anyone make such a…uh, interesting attempt at this assignment.” Deep down, a little part of you really wants to say much meaner things, but you bite back your words, knowing that showing contempt never did anyone any good.
“Interesting, eh?” Hook’s smirk grows, and you can see him already scheming inside that villainous little mind of his. “Say, Y/N”—he uncrosses his legs, leaning in your direction—“you’re the top student of this class, are you not?”
You narrow your eyes at him, but refrain from saying anything you know you’ll later regret. “Yes, and?”
“Well, as you can clearly see here, I require a bit of assistance with this assignment. After all, not everyone grew up waving wands like you,” he quips, flourishing the wand in his hand as if it were an ordinary stick. Abruptly, he stills his movements and drops the wand on his desk, before turning to face you directly, locking eyes. “Would you be so kind as to teach me a few things?”
You quirk your brows, albeit attempting to keep a straight face. “Are you asking me to…tutor you?”
Hook grins yet again. “This evening, 7 o’clock, the common area in the East Wing.” He puts his hand on his knees as he gets up, now leering a few inches above you. Still holding your gaze—although he has to tilt his head down to do so—he asks, “I’ll see you then?”
You blink twice, mind replaying the events that led to you getting yourself stuck in this situation. On the one hand, you definitely don't want to have a one-on-one study session with a villain—and an annoyingly smug one at that. Honestly, the few interactions you are forced to have with him in class are far enough for you. 
But on the other hand, he is asking for help to improve his grades…after all, it’s not every day someone the likes of him shows interest in learning. Plus, you know that it’s not right to turn away a person in need of your help, no matter how insufferable they are. Especially if they’re always flashing you a smile filled with shining white teeth and full, plump pink lips.
A sigh escapes your mouth before you can stop it as you resign yourself to your fate. “Alright, I guess. But come prepared to learn. That means you need your wand, your textbooks, notebo—”
He cuts you off with a passive sweep of his hook, much to your annoyance. Leaning in just a little closer to you, enough to make your palms slightly sweaty, his face tilts down even nearer to yours. “It’s a date, then,” Hook says, his voice soft but still with that teasing tone it always seems to carry.
“It’s not a date!” you call out as the bell rings, but he’s already making his way out of the classroom, sauntering off to do who-knows-what.
Heavens, what have I gotten myself into, you think, placing a hand on your forehead as you breathe out a long, heavy sigh.
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The evening rolls around far too quickly for your liking, and before you know it you’re making your way out of your doom room and up a set of stairs.
You keep on thinking about how you had ample time to back out of this arrangement; plus, you would be lying if you said you didn't consider it a number of times. But each time, you remind yourself that you are doing a good deed for someone obviously in need of a good influence. That you have to be selfless and put aside your personal feelings to serve a good cause, as all heroes do. That your opinions don't really matter—after all, the best heroes are the ones who make the deepest sacrifices, right?
So that’s how you find yourself dragging heavy feet across a corridor, a tiny voice in your head begging you to turn around, as you finally reach the common area set as your meetup spot. You glance at your wristwatch, which reads 6:55. You had decided to leave a bit early so you could arrive with a few minutes to spare. As your mother always reminds you, “It’s better to be an hour early than a minute late.”
Pulling out a chair at a nearby two-person table, you sit down, plopping your bookbag next to you. You had stuffed it full of your personal notes, your wand, and several textbooks you thought could help Hook. 
Tapping a pencil on the wooden desk, you sigh, glancing at your clock again. 6:57. Thinking back on your previous decision, you wonder why you left so early. After all, you have Hook down in your mind as the type to be extremely unpunctual. Leaning back in your chair out of sheer boredom, you start to clearly picture Hook showing up a good hour late. Heck, you’d be surprised if he even shows up at all. 
The clock hits 6:59, and you begin to debate how long you’re willing to stay here before giving up and returning to your dorm. Would ten minutes be enough? Fifteen? Thirty? The more you think about it, the more you can imagine this being some sort of elaborate prank to trick you. After all, why would a delinquent villain like Hook ever be interested in planning a tutoring session?
You sigh once again, angry at yourself for being so naive as to fall for his little trick. Drumming your fingers on the table as you put your head down, you mentally punch yourself for your gullibility. 
Which is why you nearly jump out of your own skin at the sound of a loud thud sound from in front of you. You jerk back into your chair, arms flailing as it tips, causing you to nearly topple backwards. With your reflexes kicking in, your hand latches onto the edge of the table—thankfully—and you manage to pull yourself back to a more stable position.
Hand clutching your pounding heart, you roll your head back to be greeted with that stupid little smirk that haunts your thoughts. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright, love. After all, we were planning to meet up, were we not?” Hook says, tone extremely smug and a tiny bit pitiful at your frightened state. 
You raise your arm and flick your wrist, reading the time displayed on your clock. 7:00. He…he showed up exactly on time, you think, praying that your shock isn’t displayed on your face.
As if he can read your mind—and in all honesty, maybe he can—Hook says, “You didn’t doubt me, now, did you, darling? How could I skimp out on our little date?”
“It’s not a date,” you tell him once again, not even trying to hide the annoyance in your voice this time.
“Whatever you say.” Hook gives a little grin as he raises his eyebrows for a second. Before you can continue to argue, he pulls out the chair across from you and sits down. You eye a small black leather satchel that dangles from his hook as he drops it down on the floor. Huh, he even came prepared.
He leans in, arms resting on the table, as he fixes you with a sly grin. “So, Miss Teacher, what are you going to teach me today?”
You hate to pass on the opportunity to make a snarky remark, but you know that rubbing Hook the wrong way is not going to make these next few hours any less sufferable. Instead, you simply go for a “How about you start by getting out your materials?”
“As you wish, m’lady.” An irritated sigh escapes your lips, and you realize you’ve been sighing a lot more than usual ever since you got in this…predicament. You watch, somewhat impatiently, as Hook reaches down and draws a single notebook and his practice wand out of the leather satchel. Glancing at his materials, then back at yours, you realize that you came a lot more prepared than he did, even though you’re not the one trying to learn here. Well, I guess him putting in some effort still better than nothing.
You pull out one of the thick textbooks from your bag, the used animal skin cover peeling at the edges and the pages yellowed from the wear of time. 
“First, we’re going to get started with the theory of enchantments and spells.” You flip through the pages until you land on the first of many detailing the basics of spellcasting. “Even though we’re going to be focusing on the Aiming Spell, the underlying principles are pretty much the same for all spells you use. Now, you see here, highlighted in the chart are the five main…”
You chance a glance over at Hook, voice trailing off when you realize he isn’t listening. In fact, he's not even looking at the textbook placed in the middle of the desk. Instead, his gaze is fixed on…
…you?
“Hey! Why are you staring at me like that, you weirdo!” you exclaim, pulling back from the table. Hook remains unflinching, his chin in his good hand as he stares up at you with a sparkle in his eye. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, love. You’re just so…so entrancing.”
You blink hard, recoiling at his words. He’s not flirting with you…is he? No, there’s no way. Don’t be overly arrogant, you convince yourself. This is just his personality, how he usually acts. The same way he calls everyone “love” and “darling.” There’s absolutely nothing more to it than him saying anything he can think of to fluster you and throw you off track.
…Right?
You ignore the stupid little flutter your heart does at not just being called pretty, or beautiful, or any of the normal compliments. No, you aren’t normal, you’re entrancing…
Snap out of it! you internally scold yourself. This is just another one of his little antics. You’re just letting him win by getting in your head. 
“Look, I didn’t come here and set aside this chunk of my valuable time to tutor you, only for you to not listen. If you came here to mess around—” you rant, but you’re cut off before you can get everything off your chest.
“I apologize, lassie. I promise, I’ll focus from here on out,” Hook vows. You eye him with a glare, feeling very distrustful, but you’re only met with his rather sincere gaze.
You let out another breath, once again regretting agreeing to this. “Fine. Get out your notebook. You’re going to want to take notes on this.”
Hook nods and reaches into his satchel, which is still lying on the floor. “If I’m being completely honest—which I assume you must hold in high regard, being a hero and whatnot—I really didn’t expect you to be so…irritable.”
You shoot Hook another glare, before realizing that you’re just proving his point. You give a brief roll of your eyes as you attempt a smile. “I’m not usually like this,” you say, fighting to keep a decently pleasant expression on your face. “You just really find a way to, how should I put this, you really—”
“Push your buttons?” Hook finishes for you, raising his eyebrows.
“I was going to say you really find a way to get on my nerves, but that too,” you respond, with obviously forced cheerfulness. “Whatever, we need to get back to studying. For real this time.”
Hook replies with an “Of course, m’lady,” before you begin your lecture again on the foundation of enchantments. This time, he makes sure to periodically glance down at the textbook pages and occasionally nod or ask a question, all to ensure that you don’t catch him staring at you again. Unbeknownst to you, adoration shines bright in his eyes as he studies your features, committing them to memory every time you’re not looking his way.
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You spend some time going over theory with Hook, until you can feel him growing restless, causing you to start wondering if people like him have a capacity for how much information they can absorb at one time. Deciding that theory is no good if it’s not put to practice, you slam the textbook shut once you reach the end of a page, standing up.
Hook looks up at you, a slightly startled expression on his face. “Come on,” you say. “Now we’re going to see how much you paid attention by putting your lesson to good use.”
You hope to see a look of fear flash across his face, but his demeanor stays completely even. Feeling a bit let down, you remind yourself that he still has to actually cast the spell. Watch him mess it up, you think. Let’s see how smug he is then, huh?
Reaching down into your bookbag, you pull out a small bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth. You open it to reveal a handful of metal disks, similar to the ones you had used earlier in class. You empty them out on the table before walking over to the middle of the room and placing the cloth down on the floor, a good number of meters away from your table. “This is your target area,” you explain. “Stand by the table and get those rings to land within the borders of the cloth.”
Let’s see how well you fare now, pretty boy.
“Aye, that’s not fair,” Hook says, scrunching his brow as he gestures towards your setup with his hook. “That cloth’s much smaller than the basket we used in class. And the distance is far greater.”
“Well, if you learn how to get the spell right with tougher constraints than the requirement, you’ll be sure to do great for the real thing.” You flash him a wink as you watch his jaw part slightly, an incredulous expression painted on his face. “That’s how I always ace my exams.”
Hook draws in a breath, putting his ever-famous smirk back on his face, although you can feel his unease this time. He picks up his wand, turning around to point it at disks on the table. 
Up. He rolls his hand upwards, and one of the disks starts to levitate a foot in the air.
Swish. Hook jerks his wrist to the side, causing the disk to start gently vibrating with potential energy. 
Circle. He rotates his hand counterclockwise, drawing a circle with the tip of the wand.
Flick. You watch with bated breath as Hook flicks the wand towards the cloth in the middle of the room. 
Both of you follow the disc’s arc through the air with tense anticipation, as it soars, soars…
…and ends up missing the cloth by a good three feet.
Hook gives a small, halfhearted laugh, trying to keep up the suave facade. Yet you notice the way his shoulders slump forward, the way his body stiffens in an embarrassing shock. 
Part of you feels a wickedly twisted satisfaction at his failure—but as soon as you recognize it for what it is, you shove it away, repulsed at the thought of you even coming close experiencing such an emotion. Plus, the majority of you feels rather disappointed at the undesirable outcome. Whether it’s Hook’s chagrin rubbing off on you, or the voice in your head whispering that you, as his teacher, failed at your job, you can’t help but feel a bit let down at his messing up.
“Hey, it’s fine. Let’s try again,” you say softly, your usual eager-to-help manner coming back at the sight of someone needing comforting.
And so, Hook tries again. And again. And again.
Finally, after the seventh or eighth try, he puts the wand back down on the table. “I don’t know what to tell you, love. No matter how hard I try, it’s simply not working.” You sigh, looking at the floor before you, which was now littered with disks. “Hey, at least you got closer each time! That’s still progress.” You attempt to raise his spirits a bit, but he just fixes you with a look that tells you he’s not one to fall for your false positivity.
“Uhm…” You hesitate, not quite sure what to do next or how to fix this. “How about you see how I do it, and try to copy that?”
Hook gives a small nod and you fish out your wand, pulling up your sleeves and taking a deep breath to prepare. Focusing on one of the disks on the table, you start the particular movements. Up. Swish. Circle. Flick!
Both of you watch in somewhat astonishment as the ring curves perfectly through the air, flying with grace, as it lands directly in the center of the cloth.
Hook looks at you with raised eyebrows. Although that little part of you wants to rub it in his face, the fact that a hero, out of all people, bested him, you decide that torturing him with your teasing is only going to make him less likely to get the spell right.
“You see that? Now, try to copy it yourself,” you instruct.
And so, Hook makes a few more attempts, landing closer to the cloth each time, now only a couple inches away—yet never actually making contact with it.
You study his movements carefully as he casts the spell, trying to figure out what he’s doing wrong. After a few more of his failed attempts, you decide to try a different approach.
“Okay, watch me do it again, but this time come hold my wand from behind so you can get a feel for how I cast it,” you say, glancing up at Hook. “After all, it’s all in the wrist.” You recite a line your mother always says, one that often replays in your mind as you cast a spell. In your opinion, her guidance is the main reason that you’re so good at spells.
You’re still sitting down in your chair, pushing it in a little to provide room for him to come up behind you and reach your wand. 
You were expecting Hook to get rather close; after all, there aren’t many ways for two people to hold the same wand in the position you were in without a tight proximity. What you weren’t expecting was the way he comes up from behind you leisurely, deliberately. The way his chest presses into your back as he leans in, arm brushing against yours as he extends it towards the wand. The way you can feel his exhales on your skin, breathing down your neck—literally—causes goosebumps to rise up and down your arms. The way his natural aroma engulfs you completely, overwhelming your senses all at once. How his large hand feels on yours as he places it on top, curling his fingers around the wand—and yours, as well. The way you can feel the smirk dancing on his face, looking down at you with what you expect to be half-lidded eyes. 
And the way your heart races, good heavens. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought you just ran a marathon. Your body simultaneously heats up and freezes at his touches, no matter how small, your mind becoming overly aware of every point of contact you have with him. You fight against the overstimulation flooding your senses, resisting the urge to wipe your sweaty palms on your legs, while hoping that the wand doesn’t slip out of your hand as perform the incantation. 
Truth be told, although you definitely won’t admit this to anyone: you really haven’t had much experience with romance, or anything of the sorts. All your life, you’ve focused on doing good deeds and keeping up with your studies, aiming to be the best of the best in the hero world. Which is probably why no boy has ever taken interest in you; instead of going to dances or out on dates, you've always spent your Friday nights locked away in your room, studying hard to make sure you ace your exams. Plus, with your goody-two-shoes streak, you aren't exactly the most sought-out person in your class.
Which is why with the way Hook flirts with you, and now, the way you can feel his inhales and exhales against your skin—subconsciously trying to match the rhythm of his breathing—your brain is short-circuiting. The lack of romantic attention you’ve received your whole life is behind why you don't know how to react to Hook's antics, while still internally freaking out at his movements and words.
You inhale a shaky breath, trying to steady your quivering hand and hope that Hook doesn’t notice your reaction. But after the amused little hum he gives, your embarrassment grows by the second. Trying your best to focus on the task at hand, you say, “Okay, here goes.”
Up. You feel Hook’s grip tighten around your hand, just a little bit but still enough to make your heart skip a beat.
Swish. The disk vibrates with extreme intensity, to the point where you’re afraid it’ll break apart, despite the metal structure.
Circle. As you circle your wrist around, you feel Hook’s arm rub against yours even more, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Gods, the things this man is doing to you.
Flick. You flick the wand towards the cloth yet again, jerking your head sideways to follow it as it flies across the room. Agonizing in how it ignites every nerve in your body, you feel Hook’s head brush against the top of yours as he follows your movements, watching the disk soar.
It seems, for a minute, as if it’s going to land right on top of the previous one. But to both your shocks, it falls just outside the borders of the cloth, barely touching the edge.
Your face absolutely burns in embarrassment, palms dripping with sweat now. Hook tilts his head towards yours—which you feel all too well—as he says, far closer to your ear than you would’ve liked, “Well, it seems like even the master makes mistakes, love.”
Fuming, you finally give into the urge and drop the wand to wipe your hands on your clothes. Screw him, you mentally curse. It’s all his fault. I’ve never messed up this spell before.
And as much as you want to blame him, you know that it’ll do you absolutely no good to tell him the fact that he was so close to you made your brain short-circuit to such an extent that you messed up a spell you could do since you were five.
You shake your head, refusing to accept your failure. “No, I…I don’t know what happened. It must have been a faulty disk. Just…I’m going to try again.”
Hook raises his eyebrows at you—or at least, you’re pretty sure he does, as you can’t see him from behind. You grab your wand again, and without even telling him to do so, Hook leans in and places his hand back over yours, your fingers trapped between his and the wand.
Internally, you find yourself growing impossibly more annoyed at him. Honestly, did he really have to go back to that position, the one that made you mess up the spell in the first place? You take a deep, steadying breath, forcing away all thoughts of Hook and how his dark brown eyes, beautiful and rich like the bark of the trees back in Oz, are boring into your skull right now. You simply can’t afford to get distracted again. Messing up the spell once is one thing—sure, everyone makes mistakes, don’t they? But twice? It would be absolutely inexcusable.
Twice would mean that you are not as adept as you thought you were, not talented enough in the one thing that you've been sure of for your whole life.
Remember the words.
Up, swish, circle, flick!
Fueled by your self-directed rage, you ensure that every movement you make is precise, sharp, and without a single tremor going through your hand. This time, the disk slices through the air with a clean, aerodynamic curve, and lands…
…right on top of your first one.
You beam, regaining your former confidence in your spellcasting abilities.
“The master may sometimes make mistakes, but they’re still the master,” you gloat. “Now come on, you need to practice till you get as good as that.”
You and Hook spend quite some time on practicing the spell, with you giving him pointers and him—surprisingly—improving. It seems as though your hands-on demonstration really helped him, as his skills greatly improved. 
Soon, in every set of ten rings he practiced on, he was consistently getting six or seven of them within the boundaries of the cloth, with one or two more landing on the edge, half-in. 
After one round where he managed to get nine of the disks touching the cloth—his personal best so far—you decide he needs something even more challenging.
“Woah, that was a really good round,” you praise. Hook turns to face you, and if you didn’t know any better, you would say that his normal smirk seems a little less snarky and a little more…genuine. 
“Still not as good as you, though, love,” Hook replies. You can tell he’s trying hard to maintain his nonchalant front, especially when it comes to academics, but the pride in his eyes and the earnest grip on his wand tell a different story. Honestly, you like him better this way. Less of him pretending to be a bad boy villain, and more of his real personality.
And in this moment, as you subtly study his features and think about his change in behavior over the past few hours, a thought that’s never even come close to crossing your mind suddenly pops up. What if villains, just like heroes, feel pressured to uphold a certain facade? The same way that you’ve always felt like you just have to be good, no matter the cost, no matter how hard it is for you, maybe villains feel the same way. Maybe they believe they always have to be bad, troublesome, and cruel. Even if that’s not who they truly are.
And through the lens of your new insight, you start seeing Hook in a different light. Just like how you feel as if being good and helpful and cheery all the time is a burden, how sometimes you wish you could just let loose and be selfish, maybe villains feel like being evil is a burden. Maybe Hook feels compelled to act smug and suave, even though that isn’t who he truly feels like being all the time. 
You begin to feel a deep sense of guilt for judging him based on his demeanor and criticizing his performance in class. Reflecting back, you realize that you had been unnecessarily harsh on him for something that is likely beyond his control. Gosh, I'm such an idiot, you think, shame burning your cheeks.
Shaking off your remorse, you put on another bright smile and try to respond as cheerfully as possible. “Hey, it’s still a huge improvement from sending the rings flying on top of a filing cabinet in the corner of the room. Or at innocent bystanders’ heads!” This time, you don’t encourage him because you feel pressured to do so, or because that’s who you know you’re supposed to be. You do it because deep down, in your heart, it’s what you feel like saying.
“Hmm, true,” Hook replies, angling his head to the side as he considers your point, the smallest of smiles still dancing on his lips.
“Now, for your final test.” At your statement, Hook raises a brow. “You need something different, something truly challenging. Something to prove your mastery of the Aiming Spell…”
You rack your brain for ideas, but nothing comes to mind. After a moment in silence, Hook speaks up. “I may have an idea.”
Glancing over at him, rather surprised—you were the teacher, after all—you gesture for him to go on. 
“Go stand over there by that wall,” he instructs, motioning with his hook to the wall opposite you two. “And put your hands up.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, fixing him with a look of wariness and doubt. You don’t move for a second, still too distrusting of him as you try to imagine what standing in that position has to do with casting a spell. Noticing your hesitation, Hook nods towards the wall again. “Well, go on, love.”
Still suspicious of him, you cave in and walk over to the far side of the room. Pressing your back against the wall as you raise your hands up, the position makes you feel as if you've just been caught red-handed in the midst of a crime. Hook still stands by the table, waiting patiently. You try to think back to the textbook pages you went over with him, wondering if you had accidentally taught him some sort of attack charm that he was planning to use on you.
Feeling your anxiety build, you wriggle your left fingers, wrapping your thumb and middle finger around the base of your pointer. You always wear a special, very pretty ring on that hand, a gift your mother gave to you a few years ago. Fiddling with it while twisting it around and around helps to soothe you, especially when you feel nervous.
But this time, when you go to repeat the same movement you always do, you feel the absence of the familiar metal surface and engravings etched into it. Glancing up at your hand, you confirm that your ring is indeed missing. The only trace of its former presence is the two parallel, circular indents in your skin from wearing it for so long.
Your panic skyrockets now at the loss of one of your favorite possessions, practically forgetting about Hook and the unease that accompanied his bizarre request. That ring had come with a special message; the night you got it, your mother had told you, “Remember when you were younger, and I told you that people are either good or bad? Well, that’s not quite true. No one is really black or white. We’re all just shades of gray. Some people are lighter gray, and some people are darker gray. And although we might be different shades, we all fall under the same color. Remember that, Y/N.”
And you have remembered it. Every time you go to toy with your ring, those words echo in your mind. Your mom had embedded the ring with a marble featuring a swirl of many different shades of gray, a reminder of the message that came along with it. You were too young to truly understand her words back then, but now, especially in these recent moments, you think you’re starting to fully grasp what she meant.
Snapping back to the present, you realize the serious problem you have at hand. “My ring!” you cry. “I could have sworn I had it when I came here…”
“Looking for this?” Hook’s smirk is back in full force. His left arm is raised, and on the crest of his polished metal hook, your precious ring glimmers under the golden lights projected from the ceiling.
“You…! When did you even…” your voice trails off as your mind catches up to your mouth. It must have been when he leaned in, while you were demonstrating the spell. That was the only time he had gotten close enough to you, although you don’t know how in the world he nicked it off your finger without you having the slightest hint.
Then you remember, quite painfully, how flustered you had been in that moment. If you were so distracted that you couldn't even cast a simple spell right, then you certainly wouldn’t have had enough brainpower to notice a skilled thief steal from you.
“Hey! Give that back!” you exclaim, huffing angrily, a frown etched deep into your face.
“I will, darling,” Hook replies smugly. “Now, raise your hands up again. And don’t wiggle your fingers around this time.”
“Give me my ring back first!” you demand, your previous annoyance towards him coming right back.
“Let me do this first, and then you’ll get your ring. Hands up.” At your glare, Hook tilts his head to the side and gives you a look. “Don’t you trust me?”
Well, of course not, is the first thought that pops into your mind. You’re a liar and a thief, and above all, a villain.
But then you remember your mother’s words, your earlier revelation and how, just for a moment, you glimpsed Hook through a different light. So, although you definitely won't go as far as saying that you trust him, you still empathize with him enough to give in to his request.
Wordlessly, you raise your hands back up to your sides, palms facing in front of you, while fighting the urge to fidget again. You debate whether or not it’d be best to close your eyes for this, but you ultimately decide that if Hook does try to pull any more of his little tricks, all your senses should be sharp and aware.
And so you stand, frozen, as Hook raises the wand. For a second, you think he’s going to cast the spell on you. But instead, he uses his good hand to remove the ring from where it’s stuck in his hook, instead placing it dangling from the tip. He points his wand at the ring, repeating the maneuvers you two practiced so many times.
Up. The ring lifts off his hook and levitates just in front of him.
Swish. It starts vibrating like the disks, but due to its small size, your cherished ring begins to rotate on its axis.
Circle. With Hook’s circular movement of the wand, the ring’s spinning accelerates, locking on to its target—whatever that is.
Flick. For one final time, Hook flicks his wrist, this time towards you.
You watch, your heart pounding as fast as ever, as the ring—your ring—curves through the sky as it falls, getting closer and closer to you. You slam your eyes shut for just a beat, unable to bear the anticipation, before remembering your earlier rationale again.
Eyes flying open instantly, you regain your vision just as the ring falls, falls, falls, landing…
…directly on your finger.
But not the finger that you previously wore it on. Your eyes widen again in disbelief as it slips perfectly around your ring finger.
“Uh…I…uhm…” you stammer, confused and shocked and overwhelmed with far too many things at once to form a coherent sentence. How in the world did he cast such a precise Aiming Spell, in a situation where it wouldn’t have succeeded had he been even a centimeter off? And if he was so precise with his location pinpointing, then why in the world did he put it on your left ring finger??
“Come on, spit it out, love,” Hook replies teasingly. “You can say it, don’t be afraid.”
Your mind is working far too hard for you to shoot him a glare, but you mentally do it anyway. “That was…impressive,” you finally admit, although you wish you didn’t when Hook’s smug grin grows twice as wide. Ugh, his ego is already big enough. I did not need to inflate it like that.
“Could you always cast the spell that well?” you ask, still stunned at his precision. You honestly couldn’t see how anyone who had been sending disks flying all across the room a mere few hours ago was now casting spells with the accuracy of someone who had been doing this for years.
“Why, of course not. You saw how I was earlier.” Hook’s grin grows even wider as he adds, “It’s all because I had a wonderful teacher.”
You still frown at him skeptically, walking back towards the table where he stands. “I highly doubt it’s because of that. I mean, I don’t know if even I could pull something like that off with such little practice.”
At this, Hook gives a little laugh. “What do they say, the student exceeds the teacher?”
You roll your eyes at him. “No, they call it ‘beginner’s luck.’ You should be happy you got it right this time, because you might not get so lucky on your exams.”
Hook grins again, and as much as you detest the pleasure he gets from teasing you—and though you’d never admit it—a small, dark gray part of you enjoys the playful banter between you two.
“That’s why I have you, darling. If I ever need more help, I’ll know who to run to.” He leans in close to you, so close, until his mouth is right next to your ear. You start having flashbacks to your previous experiences with Hook being in a close proximity, and the combined feelings from both your memories and his current actions causes your body to heat up in a way you didn’t even know was possible. 
He tilts his head down ever so slightly towards you, his lips feathering across your ear. “And you won’t be able to get out of helping me, my little goody-goody.”
Your mind is absolutely spinning at his words, his touch, his presence, his everything. You desperately struggle to formulate some sort of response, but just as you open your mouth, ready to question his choice of ring placement, a deep, low horn sounds, reverberating off the walls.
Curfew.
Hook breaks away from you as you glance down at your wristwatch. The clock shows exactly 10:00. Gods, how did the time pass by so quickly?
You glance back up at Hook, deciding to ignore the way he so alluringly whispered in your ear just seconds ago. “Well, uh, we have to get going, then,” you awkwardly say, scratching at your neck.
Hook stands there for a moment, staring at you whilst completely motionless, making you wonder what he’s thinking and what he’s planning to do. Just as you’re about to bid him a goodnight and turn away, he reaches his good hand out, grabbing your left one. He holds it delicately in his hand, his palm cupped upwards with your fingers resting gently on top.
Slowly, and while keeping his head up just enough to maintain eye contact with you the entire way down, he bends into a bow in front of you. Only does he avert his gaze when he finally reaches your hand, looking down at your ring, which still sits on your ring finger, as he places a kiss on the bright stone.
He peers back up at you, deep brown eyes wide and expressive.
“Until we meet again, m’lady.”
on to part 2! ->
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a/n: the demons I had to fight to not name this "if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it" haha. anyways thanks for reading!
do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.
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madwomansapologist · 1 year
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being pampered by shan yu would include
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Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Prisoner/Bride AU | AO3
synopsis: It was a surprise that you were able to spend so long at camp without getting sick. Freezing rains, sun that seems to multiply with each passing hour, inhospitable nights. It was a matter of time before your health couldn't handle it. But Shan Yu will always be there to support you. Ever.
warnings: sickness (nothing serious). hurt/comfort. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020). female!reader. baddass!reader. kidnapping.
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• At night you kept on tossing and turning in your sleep. You spent more time trying to find a comfortable position than sleeping. During the day your energy was minimal, and there were several times when you decided to leave your horse with the caretakers and continue your journey inside the carriage.
• Shan Yu did notice that something was wrong. You letting him ride alone, thinking loudly at night, talking less and less. During your economics classes, you didn't understand the content. In meetings with the Hun leaders, you did not interfere. During dinner, you turned the food around on your plate, thinking no one would notice.
• But of course Shan Yu noticed. Shan Yu would never ignore anything about you. Not the way your eyes didn't wrinkle when you smiled. Or how your laugh started to cease so fast. Not even how your gaze, something that always seemed to burn, got so pale.
• Its not been long since he recovered from the illness. Shan Yu remember the pain, the coldness, the lonely feeling of falling down. Then everything turned black. And when Shan Yu woke up, he had you on his arms. He will never forget that.
• Shan Yu will never forget how you hold him close. As if he would run away from you if he had the chance. Shan Yu will never forget the natural way you confessed your love. How your words came as sweet whispers, how your eyes glared at him with passion, how you asked him to not break your heart. He would never do such a thing.
• He swore to protect and care for you the day he first saw you, and that night Shan Yu swore to never dissapoint you. To never make you regret giving him your heart. To never make you feel anything but completely, perfectly, incandescently happy.
• And for sure you weren't feeling like that lately. And that was his problem to solve.
• Shan Yu hunt on your name. The largest animals, with the tastiest meat and warmest skins. Only the best for his empress. The elders were ordered to make the best teas and bath oils for your health. He is a man of actions, not words. To say he pray for your health don't change a damn thing, but to actively fight for it... this is more Shan Yu's style.
• And he asked — demanded — you to stay inside the carriage. No classes, no meeting, no problems that you decided you were the one that should fix. And sadly this include not riding beside him. If you can't rest at night, than you better stay at bed all the time you can.
• He will take care of everything. You don't need to move a inch of your body. It's his duty to care for you. Shan Yu will make sure that you eat, that you have your favorite books with you, that your bath is at the perfect temperature.
• If you're coughing, Shan Yu will be there with a cup of water for you. If you finally can sleep, Shan Yu will be the one closing the curtains. If your eyes can't focus on the letters from your book, Shan Yu will read out loud for you.
• It's his duty, but that does not mean Shan Yu don't get any pleasure for treating you like that. Everytime you let him take control, that you trust him, that you let him be near you: it is like a dream come true. For months he tried to win your heart, and now he finally have it. He wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.
Shan Yu's light sleep meant he always knew when your throat wouldn't let you rest. When he opened his eyes he saw you sitting on your bed, pulling the sweaty sheets away from your boiling skin, your body shaking from the incessant coughing.
“It’s okay,” you said between coughs. The moon illuminated your body, Shan Yu could see how shaken you were from being unable to rest for long enough. "Go back to sleep. I'm fine."
And before he could say anything, a strong crisis took over his body. Shan Yu stood up, approaching your bed, and filled a glass with water for you. You couldn't held it, so he placed the glass against your lips and helped you drink it.
You held his hand, eyes closed as you drank the water. Such a simple gesture, just your fingers on his, but it made Shan Yu's heart race. You looked away from the glass, eyes staring at something on the bed, but you didn't stop touching him.
"I feel so lonely", you murmured. Your fingers caressed his. "Lay with me."
Shan Yu held your hand, stroking your fine skin. He ran his nail down your fingers, along the lines in your palm, over the tips of your nails. Then he kissed your knuckles. One by one, Shan Yu kissed them.
"Of course, my moon." He kissed each of her fingers. A man as big as Shan Yu treating you with such care would never stop being a novelty. "Anything you want."
He sat in the empty space on the bed, and reclined against your pillows. They smelled just like you. Shan Yu stretched out one of his arms, inviting you.
Slowly, you lay on his chest. As you breath in, you got yourself comfortable. You intertwined his leg with yours, hugged Shan Yu's belly, curled up against his body. Shan Yu hugged you carefully, and spent the night stroking your back with his fingertips.
That night, you slept.
• Shan Yu has your heart, just as you have his.
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dolliels · 1 month
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I’VE BECOME THE FIANCÉ OF THE VILLAIN?! pt4
synopsis: going to bed after reading a horribly self indulgent romance novel, you seemed to wake up as an extra of the series. what stories will unfold while on a mission to find a way out?
author’s note: freaky ass chapter lol
[one] [two] [three] [four] [epilogue]
"why do you come over so often?" you asked leaning back against your couch.
leona was comfortably resting his head on your thighs. "you said you liked your house better than the palace." he replied.
"ohhh so that's what the question was for." you said to yourself out loud. leona just grunted and leaned in closer.
it had been about a week since what you would call 'the incident.' (the kiss. don't be embarrassed!) and you found that leona really did enjoy lounging around your house. it was like he was living here again, except he went home after dinner because after disappearing for months (and hiding at your place) he was apparently scolded very hard and had two sets of guards follow him everywhere.
they were the two royal guards that asked you about leona's whereabouts before. it seemed as if only those two and leona were the only ones who knew (and figured out) that you had been unknowingly hiding him and keeping the royal family very vulnerable with leona’s disappearance. (oops!)
you've heard people whispering about the second prince's whereabouts, which was why you were so insistent that he goes back home to the palace. which he did. way later than he should've.
the two guards were named ruggie and jack. you kinda felt bad that they had to stick around waiting for leona all day so every time you cooked a meal, you'd prepare little lunchboxes for them to enjoy, and gift them books you think they might like, free of charge.
jack, apparently, was new to the job. he looked very righteous, definitely a guy who trained to work for the royal family his entire life. he did not look at least one bit bored waiting around for leona all day long. he was also reluctant to eat the food you made, but after seeing leona wolf it down and snag a few from your plate when you weren't looking, jack started to take them a lot more comfortably.
ruggie, on the other hand, seemed to be a seasoned veteran. not in battle though. just dealing with leona.
apparently, ruggie had been on leona's ass since they were teenagers so everyone thought it would be better to just let ruggie stick with leona even after he was promoted to knighthood.
ruggie was fine with it. he claimed it was easy money and he didn't mind sticking with leona. he said it was a lot easier now that you could take care of him (you flushed at this comment) and greedily took the food you offered without a second thought.
you laid your head back. the fire was cackling and the hot cocoa was letting out steam. winter was really near, and the house was often cold so you mostly stayed around the living room or bundled up tightly in bed. you were too scared to leave the fire on overnight to warm the house, so it got pretty chilly at night.
these were the days you really missed modern living with their heaters and air conditioners. summer was pretty hard to deal with as well, heavy heatstrokes hitting your house every second of every hour. but the cold days were the worst. you could just wear less layers during the summer, but the winter meant you had to be prepared. you thanked the heavens that leona was warm and toasty, as you started to often hold onto him for warmth.
you weren't sure what you'd call whatever you and him had. a relationship? a couple? your boyfriend? you shook your head. you had no idea if this world had some sort of courting tradition and leona just threw away the rules and kissed you right then and there, but you didn't really care. you still had intentions to leave this world, even if that seemed to be way far out of your reach.
sometimes, you'd compare the leona who was hogging your thighs right now to the leona you read in the novel. in the novel, leona rarely showed any physical contact with roselia, nor did he kiss her until the very end of the story, where it was left to a happily ever after. he was often shy with his advances and would rather show his affections and love through the sidelines, doing things for her ambiguously. this leona, however, was very, very handsy. the moment you guys kissed, he hadn't been able to keep his hands off of you. hand on your waist, holding hands, little pecks on your face, a hug, you name it, he's done it. he had zero shame.
"hey, do you want to eat out tonight?"
"sure. i'm tired of cooking. where?"
"isn't there a branch of mostro lounge nearby."
"what? that place costs so much!"
"did you forget who I am?"
there was one thing that the novel got right about leona's preferred way to show affection.
both versions of leona loved to flaunt their money.
-
a month into whatever the hell was going on between you and leona, you were skimming through a book about transmigration. the hope of leaving never really left, even if you seemed to be pretty settled (and even in a relationship)
sometimes, when the body's owner wake up in a completely new body in a completely new life without their consent, they tend to almost never find a way out, no matter what they try.
hah, you'd been there.
however, some speculate that the only way to go back home in those situations is through feeling alone. if the transmigrator doesn't have a 100% unchangeable desire to go back home, the chances are zero to none. this is why those who end up settling down at a life in their new world usually have a hard time getting back. especially those who form meaningful bonds. those who are stuck in the middle are called to have a 'transmigration conundrum.'
you thought to yourself. do you truly like it here? like, before you met leona and started liking him like that. were you truly content? you were mixed with emotion.
if the transmigrator really does have a strong desire to go back home, they find themselves suddenly awake in their beds as if no time has passed and no changes had happened at all. those who claimed that they have experienced this state that they were usually able to go back home after they resolved some complicated feelings they had with those in the other world.
your eyes were starting to get droopy. you were relaxed, lying down on your bed, leona right next to you, snoring as loud as a person would possibly be. it was nearing dark and you wanted to wake leona but you got distracted staring at his face.
for a prince, he looked pretty unguarded. but then again, he did have two royal guards standing right outside of your door. 
you kissed the top of his forehead and looked up at your ceiling.
attachments… what were you attached to in this world?
leona, for starters, was very special in your heart. the bookstore was quite special too, you guessed. you've come to grow fond of the smell of vintage yellowed paper pages or the way fresh ink would glide smoothly from your quill.
you were also a little fond of ruggie and jack, and the fresh produce you were able to get (you eventually became friends with the grocer after bargaining with the guy so much) and the delicious foods you were able to make with it.
but you were also fond of the extremely processed, sugar snacks, and the easily accessible internet, transportation, phones and your bedroom.
you truly did have a transmigration conundrum.
you were getting sleepy and felt like dozing off, but you knew leona couldn't sleep over so you slowly shook him.
"hey. leona, wake up."
he growled and turned to sleep over you. you groaned and smacked his back. no reaction.
"leonaaaa wake upppp you know you're not allowed to sleep over and i don't want ruggie or jack to bust into my house again. if they break my door again you better buy me a nicer one."
you sniffed. something was burning.
"leona. do you smell that?"
you saw him scrunch up his nose, then open his eyes.
"something's burning."
leona stood right up and you followed behind.
your house was fine, so you had no idea where the burning smell was coming from. leona probably thought the same as he grabbed your hand and proceed to head to the back door. the door connected to the bookstore.
the moment he opened the door, a rageful fire bursted through and he immediately closed it back. you eyes widened. the books!
letting go of his hand, you ran out the other door to walk out and see your bookstore in full. it seemed as if both jack and ruggie had just noticed the fire as they scurried right behind you.
the entire bookstore… it was in flames. but how? never mind that. you needed to put the fire out!
-
you had never felt so desolate in your life.
by the time you managed to stop the fire (with the help of ruggie, jack and leona– jack especially) the entire placed was screwed over. the books were pure black in ash, the supports were fallen off and the roof was just, not there.
the fire somehow transported itself to your house as well, so some of the area was burnt off. but you still had a livable house, luckily.
leona offered to pay to rebuild the place but you just shook your head. the words transmigration conundrum echoed in your head and you had a subtle urge to try and let go of this place you've come to love.
you still had some books lying around your house. thank the sevens you had stacks of them at home.
but the comfort of a leatherback storybook wasn't there. just a pitted void of what you used to do. you also didn't have a job anymore. so what now?
leona was beside you once again, this time wide awake. he still did look sleepy.
"i have no job, and i'm deadbeat broke most of the time… what am I to do now?" you laughed weakly. you could still see the hints of burnt wood creeping on your walls and you felt even more devoid.
"you could live with me. then you won't have to work at all. or work at the library archive." leona suggested, leaning his head onto your shoulder.
"living with you? in the palace? me? with the royal family? that's insane. you'd need a good reason to house someone perfectly healthy and fine like me."
"what about amalgamation?"
"amalgamation? like marriage? haha."
"yea."
you turned your head. he looked dead serious.
"...what?"
"i'm saying we could be engaged, or something. then you could live in the palace."
that's right… roselia had no reason to worry about food or housing, because the palace took care of that for her… the pros of being a prince's fiancé.
but you had to be smart. you were just a commoner. the royal family didn't know you, the kingdom's people didn't know you, you didn't even know yourself.
you also weren't sure if people would take it to liking when leona randomly announces a wedding engagement.
the words transmigration conundrum still echoed loudly in your head. the desire to go back home seemed to have been ignited brightly once more.
"...no." you decided.
leona genuinely looked surprised. "no?"
"i can't… i just can't." you fumbled your words. you couldn't bring yourself to explain why. you wanted to spill your guts out with reasoning, but you could not find the right words.
"so if i asked you seriously and proposed, would you say no?"
you felt tense. "I… I guess so…"
leona straightened up. "then you should've said so in the first place. then i wouldn't have bothered with you or this relationship at all."
he walked out the door, his tail swished left and right rapidly. he was upset, you could tell that easily. but you didn't have the strength to get up and chase after him. you were tired. tired of this world, tired of somehow having the worst luck, and being struck with guilt over everything.
huh, so did leona intend to marry you in this relationship?
that wouldn’t be a good idea. right?
you probably wouldn’t be able to fully commit to it— considering your position right now.
were you not able to or did you just simply not want to?
you saw snow fall outside the window.
transmigration conundrum.
-
it had been two or three days since you last saw leona. you couldn't remember, as you laid in bed all day, mourning over who knows what (you felt as if you got over the whole bookstore thing– the responsibility of running it did take a toll on you. so what was making you so miserable now?) (you knew. it was because leona wasn’t there.)
he visited nearly everyday. this was the longest time you've gone without seeing him since the beginning of your relationship.
relationship? what relationship?! what even were you two? he just kissed you and got all touchy with you. and you, being touch starved and miserable without your friends or family, probably just leaned into the attention! and- not even two months in and he asked about marriage. what is this?! is this world really that weird or is leona just a freak?
you groaned into your pillow. being welled up in your own home was suffocating. this entire world was suffocating. you needed a breath of fresh air.
it was nearing sunset, and you decided you wanted to take a quick walk on a whim.
bundling up in your warmest clothes, you stepped outside to experience winter in this universe for the first time. it was truly beautiful, with its flawless, untouched and pristine white snow, the way the sun dimly makes the shadows appear in dark and warm hues of blue… you wished you weren't so frustrated so that you could appreciate it properly.
stomping in the snow, you huffed and breathed in the cold winter air as it entered your lungs. you were suddenly starting to feel better, and your mind was emptying.
however, due to your enjoyment of simply taking a breather outside, you realized it was nearing nightfall. you have to go home as soon as possible, you had no light source with you.
stomp, stomp you could hear your shoes step into the snow as you trudged through them like the total athlete you are.
you could barely see ahead of you, as it was dark at this point, so you were just following the footsteps in the snow you left. but it was snowing again, and your markings were fading away. you had to hurry.
stomp, stomp, stomp…
gotta hurry home…
stomp, stomp, stomp….
transmigration conundrum?
stomp, stomp, stomp…
you laughed at yourself. no way you're stuck in the middle. what conundrum is there?
stomp, stomp, stomp…
you just want to go home. done deal.
stomp, stomp, stomp…
who cares about anything else?
stomp, stomp, stomp…
who cares about leona king- OOF!
you were too engrossed into your thoughts that you ran into someone.
“I’m sorry.” you said, not bothering to look up. the shoes the guy was wearing looked fancy.
“y/n.”
you finally realized what you were doing and look up in hurry. it was leona.
“why are you here?”
“i followed the footsteps from your house.”
“oh. okay then. bye, i guess.”
psh. you didn’t care about leona either. you lost interest in everything. you wanted to go home.
“wait.”
transmigration conundrum.
leona grabbed your wrist. you turned around, both your faces fleshed in red from the cold. you didn’t want to see leona anymore. the more you looked at him, the more the guilt grew.
ultimately, the only thing keeping you from leaving this so called ‘conundrum’ was him.
if you decided to stay all for the sake of him, like roselia did, instead of going home, then you wouldn’t be able to go back. you’d lose everything you’d ever known. your friends, your family… although you were pretty boyfriend-less in your world, you were still happy because everyone and everything you loved was still there.
you missed your bed, your parents, your friends. you missed fast food and sodas and reading comic books. you missed having a cool AC to fight against the summer heat, unlike now where you had to just deal with it while withstanding a wrist-pain inducing fan.
leona was here, but everything else was there. you just couldn’t give it up.
leona’s eyes were wide, his chest heaving up and down as the winter fog surrounded you both.
“i love you.”
you blink.
“y/n. y/n i love you.”
you felt tears well up in your eyes.
“i-“
“i love you. i love your tryhard cooking, your shitty medical skills. the books stacked around your house— i did enjoy reading them. i love you. why can’t you understand that? what is blocking you from being with me? is it because i’m a prince? is my status scary? i’m not even after the throne. i have no interest. i just want to be with you.”
wow. so your guess was right. you thought that leona maybe lost interest in going after the throne. this was a red flag.
leona lost interest in all his evil schemes when he finally settled and accepted his feelings of roselia. which meant only one thing— he accepted his feelings for you. from how early on he stopped caring for the throne, he’s accepted his love for you a long, long time ago.
“i— i don’t mind settling down in a small town. i don’t care if my reputation crashes. we- we could rebuild that bookstore together. and not through my family’s money. we can actually work for it.”
this was bad. he was willing to lose everything. the leona kingscholar, who only cared about the throne, was now showing the most emotion you’ve ever seen, in person or in novel— for you.
you heart tightened. you truly did believe that leona could work something out. that you guys could work something out together and live happily, a happily ever after, like he originally did with roselia.
no. he didn’t deserve you. going home was still at the very top of your mind now, more than ever before. he deserved someone like roselia, someone who was willing to loss it all for him, like he would for you.
except you weren’t roselia. you could never be her, and you would live the rest of your life with a huge hole in your left because you lived feeling unfulfilled.
you had to put a stop to this. his desperation tugged at your heart. you couldn’t handle it anymore.
“you don’t know me like you think you do.” you started. you let go of leona’s grip on your wrist.
“i’m not from here.” you sighed. “i can’t explain it. but I’m not from here, and i need to leave. that was my objective from the very beginning.”
“i can’t… i can’t be with you because i don’t belong here. not because of you, but me. it’s because of me.”
leona seemed to understand the situation. perhaps your mannerisms, the way you speak, all the books about transmigration, your current avoidance, it seemingly all connected.
he grabbed both your hands.
“i… okay. i understand. at least, i think i do.”
the crisp winter air danced between you two.
“thank you. for everything.” leona said.
you laughed weakly. ‘you’re saying thank you now? what gives?”
“just because. it feels like i’m never going to see you again.”
you wrapped your arms around leona’s back, hugging him tightly. the soft, fluffy clothes protecting you from the cold smushed between you too.
and then you woke up.
to be continued...?
a.n: thanks for anyone who stuck around all the way to here !! if this was ao3 i would expand on it more but i feel like the romance got a little too rushed (i tried to make it evenly paced as possible but that added the whole doc to 20k words my phone cannot handle all of that i WILL lag and screw something up) so i hope its not too negatively silly!!
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aquasarsstuff · 2 months
Text
Arrange Marriage ft. Lilia Vanrouge x reader part 1, part 2, part 3
Tags: Lilia is a flirt, reader is easily flustered, romance, twisted wonderland au, series, fluff, historical au, my longest fic
Summary: Lilia convinces you to go out on a date with him.
Masterlist
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"Again, what exactly are you here for?" you dusted the crumbs off your lap, letting it fall to the floor, and inevitably for the ants to consume.
"I was looking for a very specific herbs, last night," he pondered for a bit, as if trying to recall his memories from the previous night. You leaned on your chair, expecting to hear another story of his chaotic adventure.
"For a potion?"
He shook his head, "I intended to use it for a new dish, but instead, I stumbled upon a picturesque spot in the mountain." You wince, and here you thought you've already diverted the talk away from culinary.
"You... went there in the middle of the night?" You looked at him from your seat. "Are you sure you weren't seeing things or just being tricked at?"
"Pray tell, what led you to such conclusions?" he took another piece of sweets on the plate, munching them to his heart's content.
"Well... I heard faes are more likely to appear there, after the sun sets and play tricks at humans," you said, a little worried.
"Are you scared of such creatures? Isn't your fiancé one too? Who knows? He might be listening," he poke around, teasing you.
"I would've have probably caught a generation curse if he did," you grimaced at the thought, remembering how vengeful and petty they are if provoke, or rather according to what you've heard from people.
He couldn't helped but burst out laughing, making you look at him. There was a generous filling spread around the skin, near his lips. You can't helped but sigh at how messy he looks. You would've irked at the sight, if he was just some people you don't know. You stood up from you seat and pulled out a handkerchief out of your pocket. While he was busy enjoying the sweet treat, you took the chance to grab his chin to face you. You casually wiped off the fillings from his face, that you didn't noticed how his eyes widen as saucers. When you raised your eyes to meet his, it was now looking at you lidded and filled with mischief.
"Touching me now casually, are we? Do be careful, I don’t want to get the rough end of the stick, by having your prince after me."
You pushed him away, embarrassed at your own actions. He just let out a small laugh, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Shut up," you retorted. "I just can't stand such behavior in front of me. For someone who keeps complaining about aggravating my fiancé, you sound way too happy."
He hums in return. "Alright, if you say so."
"Just continue what you wanted to tell me earlier," you waved your hand at him, sitting on your seat previously. You closed your eyes at how hard your heart was contracting between your lungs. If you didn't put up an end to his teasing far earlier, one of your vital organs might have exploded.
"The stars look absolutely stunning in there, like someone in here."
"And then?"
"I was eager to show it to you, so I came here as fast as I could," he smiled at you gently.
You looked at him, as if he just said the most ridiculous thing ever. "It's Horse Hour currently. The only star available at the moment is too stunning that'll it make me blind."
"Awh, that was a mean thing to say to the ball of life," he pouted.
"Besides, father is in the house. He hasn't visited my room yet, but he often makes rounds in my room in random intervals. He might have different thoughts if he caught me again, gone here. I don’t want him to enforce even more stricter rules for me."
"I've been here since morning, and I can assure you that I haven't come across your father or caught a glimpse of his presence."
"What?" you said abnormally calm, despite reeling in shock. "What were you doing all these hours?" he brought a forefinger to your lips, shutting you down.
"I only know the way to your room, so I went to every room to pull of this perfect disguise. Now, come on. Do I still need to get on my knees, to get you to say yes?" he smirked at you, taking a hold of your palms. His touch was unexpectedly cold to the touch, despite of the fiery sun outside.
"Not without a ring," you pulled your hand away from him, flustered at his actions. "Get out."
"Throwing me out already? It took great effort to devise and even accomplished the heist, you know? I'm not letting the treasure get out of my sights, when it is in front of me. I'm not one to missed chances, sweetcheeks," he whispered in your ears, appearing behind you, in a blink of an eye.
One of your eyes twitched. "I need to get dress," you firmly said.
"I can just turn my back. I promise I won't take a peek."
"No," you were about to push him to door, when he spun around like a basketball and bounced to the window stool. He took a quick looked behind him and winked at you before leaping out. You stood in your room, shocked. It's a wonder he still hasn't broke a limb or two with his random stunts.
Lilia whistle, waiting for you. He sensed something move behind him and saw you threw a long fabric down from your window.
"You can just jump to my arms, sweetcheeks!" he looked up. Your feet sat still on your window, but due to some carvings you overlooked, you slip down. Your heart leaped from your chest. Scared of the upcoming pain, you closed your eyes, but instead. you felt yourself floating in the air. You snapped your eyes open, only to see the petite man carrying you with a smile.
"And what did I just say earlier?" he brought you down to your feet. "You could've had a terrible concussion."
"Thanks," you meekly said. Your heart now continued to beat erratically for a different reason. You swear, he's gonna be the death of you sooner or later.
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